Conspiracy of Dreams
Copyright© 2009 by corsair
Chapter 6: Amanda Is A Good Girl
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 6: Amanda Is A Good Girl - Set in Falconer's Capitallia, someone is subverting the political process. Set in the year 2136, this story of intrigue concentrates on the unintended consequences of controlling society's lowest strata.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Mult Consensual Romantic Reluctant Coercion Hypnosis Slavery Gay Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual TransGender Hermaphrodite Incest BDSM DomSub MaleDom Spanking Humiliation Torture Swinging Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Black Female White Male Oriental Female Hispanic Female First Oral Sex Anal Sex Petting Sex Toys Lactation Water Sports Pregnancy Cream Pie Exhibitionism Voyeurism Body Modification Violence Prostitution Nudism Military
Amanda existed on the verge of panic. She kept repeating to herself: 'Amanda is a good girl.' Amanda's blush extended from the roots of her scalp hair to her belly button in front, down both arms to the wrists, and down her back to the crease at the bottom of her buttocks. Amanda's skin twitched and was covered in goose pimples. At the same time Amanda's skin bore a thin sheen of perspiration. More than mere sweat trickled down her inner thighs. Amanda was in distress over being naked, over seeing others totally nude, and her body was betraying her by exhibiting signs of extreme sexual arousal.
Nancy held Amanda's left elbow and Susan held Amanda's right elbow as they steered Amanda down the dusty street. A chubby child waddled in front of the trio, its thumb in its mouth. The child stared up at the three women. At that age the differences between boy and girl is very hard to determine. The child took its thumb from its mouth and asked, "Why are you crying, lady?"
"She's new to all this," Susan said. "She's still afraid of what people will think of her."
"Oh," the child replaced the thumb in its mouth and toddled off.
"Amanda is a good girl," Nancy said.
"Was that a boy or a girl?" Amanda asked.
"Does it matter at that age?" Susan replied. "It was a kid."
"How old was she?" Amanda was talking and that was good because she wasn't obsessing over her own nudity. Being naked was only half the problem. "Why was she out here alone?"
"Dale?" The speaker was a slender woman with waist length brown hair. She appeared to be young, but had a full black pubic pelt and hairy legs. Tufts of black underarm hair stuck out from underneath her tanned arms. "Oh, hi, Nancy. Hi, Susan. Have either of you seen Dale?"
"Chubby little girl with brown hair and brown eyes, about this tall?" Susan held her hand below her hip. "We just saw her, Heather."
"Him. Dale is a boy," Heather grinned. "I guess it's hard to tell when they are just three. He wandered off. I need to find him for lunch. I'm dripping milk."
"That way. I can still see him," Nancy pointed at the retreating child.
"Thanks! Gotta run." Heather took off at a trot. There were even coarse black hairs visible on Heather's back and butt. When Dale saw his mother, he waved at her.
"What was that?" Amanda asked.
"One of the resident cultists," Susan replied. "That's how humans naturally appear. They tend the gardens and the animals. The cultists run craft shops. They even have regular customers at the brothel. A few of them have become slaves and work in the clinic ahead with Dr. Kingbee, our resident physician. We're here now." "I need to go potty," Amanda said.
"Just a moment. Doctor Kingbee will want your pee and poop," Nancy told her. "That door is the clinic. We're almost there. Just a little longer."
The door was a normal door, not even marked. Inside was a small and modern clinic. A naked woman sat at the reception desk.
"Hi Susan. Hi Nancy. And you must be Amanda." The woman patted her chest. "I'm Emma. Dr. Kingbee will see you right after we draw samples. Iris is waiting for you in the lab."
The three women herded Amanda into the lab. Iris was a pregnant and naked brunette of average height. She was plain, neither pretty nor unattractive, but did have a healthy glow about her. If not for her nudity, she would have drawn no attention when working in any medical laboratory. Iris took Amanda's hand and led her to a commode along one side of the room.
Amanda had retreated from the real world. When she was asked questions, she responded in a child's voice and with the singsong chant of a little girl. The professionals quickly drew the samples over protests that Amanda didn't want to be watched while she "made potty."
"You can watch me, Amanda," Nancy stood before the commode with her feet apart. She tilted her pelvis forward and used both hands to hold her labia open. A stream of urine emerged from Nancy's girl parts and splashed noisily in the bowl. When she finished, Nancy licked her fingers and used them to clean herself, as if Nancy were a cat. "You'll need to be able to do that in two days."
"Nancy," Iris chided, "you are scaring her.
"She has to be in Florida on Thursday," Susan said. "She will be assisting Master Hank on business."
"I have her medical records," Emma was holding a Palm Slave. "She has a severe case of gymnophobia."
"What's that? Nancy asked. "Fear of the gym?"
"It means fear of nudity," Emma explained. "The word comes from the Greek gymno, the same root as gym. The Greeks used to exercise in the nude. There are some additional notes that the underlying cause is an inability to trust others. Amanda keeps everyone at a distance."
"Go potty now," Amanda's voice sounded far away. Her eyes were focused in the distance.
"I'll fix you right up, honey," Iris said. Amanda survived having another woman collect urine and stool samples because Amanda's mind was elsewhere. Amanda's mind was 'else when, ' back at age three when her mother was potty training the young Amanda. Iris became concerned when Amanda giggled. "Can we take off those handcuffs?"
"I'm afraid we left the key behind." Nancy smirked. "Those are OMI issue cuffs. They aren't coming off without a key."
"Unless Amanda wasn't making empty promises about her tradecraft," Susan said. "Amanda, get out of your handcuffs. Hank told me that the first thing OMI agents learn is that there are no barriers, no restraints, no limits to the human mind. Show me something other than a scared little girl, Amanda. Show me that you've earned the right to accompany my master on a hunting trip."
"'Kay," Amanda twisted her hands behind her back and held up the handcuffs. Modern handcuffs in Capitallia do not have keys in the traditional sense. Handcuffs are intended to secure people against their will. In the history of American law enforcement several police officers were imprisoned in their own handcuffs, so Capitallian-made handcuffs were designed to be programmable. The "key" is really a memory stick that records when the handcuffs are opened and closed and where those events took place. Capitallian handcuffs all have a locator chip in them. Should the police officer assigned to a pair of cuffs wind up in their own restraints, it is a simple matter to wipe a thumb across the lock and gain release. That, and when the cuffs are closed around the wrists of the officer assigned to them, the officer's agency is immediately notified. Amanda handed her cuffs to Susan. "Did I do good?"
"Amanda is a good girl," Susan replied. "How did you do that without keys?"
"Tradecraft," Amanda blinked and looked around. "Is this the clinic?"
"Yes," Iris said. "Let's get finished here. If you aren't mentally all there then you can't voluntarily enslave."
"That's not right," Amanda responded. "I signed up for a medical enslavement. My doctor, my father and I agreed that giving up control of my life would cure my problem. I'm already a slave. My participation in today's ceremony is just to hand me over to Hank. I belong to my daddy. I'm already a slave."
"So stop obsessing!" Nancy scolded. "You are not responsible for what is happening. You are a slave. You are blameless for what your master makes you do. Your master wants you naked. Your master wants people to touch you. When Amanda obeys her master, Amanda is a good girl."
"Amanda is a good girl," Amanda said. "I'll be good. It's hard, but I'll be good."
The rest of the medical routine went smoothly. Amanda seemed resigned. Her face lost that zombie look. At last, Doctor Kingbee stepped into the examination room.
"I'm Doctor Roger Kingbee," Unlike most of Silver Orb, Doctor Kingbee dressed for work. He wore a lab coat over a retro Nehru suit and matching blue boots with zippered sides. "I was just wondering when you were going to object to being poked and prodded. Your Jakefield Unitary bio digital slave control implant makes most of the medical tests redundant. People lacking implants would need to be connected to a series of EEG, EKG, polygraph, MRI and other outmoded machines to get the same degree of information about a person. Your Jakefield does all those functions at once. I can even read blood/oxygen level, blood chemistry and have the ability to alter the blood chemistry remotely, given this." Kingbee held up a remote control. "So when were you going to object, Amanda?"
"Amanda is a good girl," Amanda shivered. " Good slaves do what their masters command. Daddy is helping me to get better. Doctor, do you know about the Stockholm Syndrome."
"I fix the body, not the mind," Doctor Kingbee said. "That's Hank's specialty. I remember something about it. Bank robbery about two hundred years ago."
"The Stockholm Syndrome is the label given for hostage bonding with their kidnappers," Amanda explained. "OMI teaches that humans in danger naturally bond with each other. It is the basis of all military training. Boot camp and the use of drill sergeants use this to turn scared young boys into fighting teams. Daddy told me that if I went on a mission or two with Hank, I could bond with him."
"You're holding back something," Kelly emerged from the hall door. She was accompanied by a pregnant woman and two young men. "What can Hank do for you that your father can't? Unless..."
'Unless what, Kelly?" Doctor Kingbee asked.
"There is a second way to bond," Kelly said. "Sex. I see why you and your father couldn't do that, even when you are his slave."
"Daddy said that field operations with Hank were safer than a trip to Orlando Land."
"Phyllis is here for her check-up. Yes, she has her full slave implants, but there are some things that require the human touch." Kelly rubbed Phyllis's bulging belly. "I brought Bo and Jeri with me to help out with your preparations. Now, Hank had some instructions for me."
"After I've given Amanda her mods," Doctor Kingbee said. "She doesn't have permanent sunscreen or insect repellent injections. Naked humans sunburn so easily here and in Florida. There aren't many insects here in Silver Ob, but Florida is bug heaven. Orlando Land does a good job of keeping the bugs from feasting on tourist with ultrasonics, but a few do get through. Outside of the tourist traps all sorts of bugs feast on humans. The stuff I have even makes good shark repellant. Doesn't do much against alligators--they hunt by sight."
"I'm not afraid of bugs, sharks or alligators," Amanda spoke in a more mature voice. "They're just dumb animals."
"I'm going to render you unconscious for a moment," Doctor Kingbee said. "People have an aversion to needles."
"Not me, Doctor," Amanda extended her arms. "I'm a cutter. When stress gets too much to bear, I cut myself. If you look at my contract, my master is supposed to give me the corporal punishment I need. I can be punished through my implants. I need my master to take full control over me. You have injections? I can handle the pain. I need the pain."
The clinic was silent until Doctor Kingbee picked up a pair of auto injectors and approached Amanda.
"This will hurt. After the initial stabbing pain, you will feel a burn for a few minutes. You may experience feverishness. Lean against that table. I don't want you flinching."
"I won't flinch, Doctor." Amanda's voice carried more confidence than she had demonstrated since arrival at Silver Orb. Amanda leaned against the examination table. She glanced over her shoulder. "Are you making me wait, Doctor?"
Jaws dropped. Doctor Kingbee recovered first. He took the auto injectors and closed the distance. Without fanfare the doctor pressed the injector against Amanda's meaty gluts and triggered the injector. The injector sounded like a gunshot. Amanda smiled.
"Sir, may I have another?" Amanda asked sweetly.
"Coming right up."
The second auto-injector was as loud as the first. Amanda beamed.
"Thank you, sir. I feel much better now."
When Amanda was led through Silver Orb's streets again, Bo held her left hand and Jeri held her right. Nancy and Susan led and Kelly followed.
"What grooming instructions did Hank give you?" Kelly asked. "Face forward. Keep walking. Just speak loudly."
"He said to ask you to shave me."
"Any special way?" Kelly asked. "Did he say head to toe?"
"No. Just everything below the neck."
"Amanda, we use a nanite lotion here. The green stuff is permanent and the pink stuff is good for 90 days. Did Hank express a preference?" "No." Amanda said. "What does permanent mean?"
"The hair has to be replaced when the green stuff is used. It won't grow back naturally."
"Mistress Kelly, may I please have the green stuff?" Amanda requested.
"I was hoping you'd ask. Hank prefers the smooth look." Kelly giggled. "A few months ago I went to Florida with three of the girls. We were all totally naked except for our slave collars. That's all I wore, too. It doesn't matter in Florida--if you wear a slave collar, you are fully dressed just about everywhere. Oh, yes, we shaved our heads too. We did that to demonstrate total submission. The only problems we had were that the children wanted to play in Orlando Land totally naked, too. They all had to wear panties and sandals except on the clothing optional days. I wish I could go totally naked in Reno all the time."
"Mistress," Bo spoke, "I was hoping that you would wear something in cold weather."
"It's not right for us slaves to wear clothing while our mistress goes naked," Jeri said. "Not right at all."
"How can we hold up our heads among the others slaves?" Bo asked.
Kelly laughed. "Who's opinion is important, boys?"
"Yours, Mistress Kelly," the slave boys chorused.
"Remember that!"
They entered the beauty shop and took Amanda straight to the rear, to a shower and sauna room. Bo and Jeri held Amanda by her wrists and bade her to keep them out away from her sides so that they could deal with the forests in her arm pits. Bo and Jeri hosed her down with hand-held showerheads. The showerheads sprayed soapy water or clear water or even blasts of warm air at the touch of a button as if at an old fashioned coin-operated car wash. Nancy used sponges to scrub Amanda's skin.
"Feet apart. Farther," Nancy commanded. "Amanda, you are going to have to learn to wipe better than this!"
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