Katie 02: Demonstration of Power

Chapter 2: Demonstration of Power

My consciousness regained not all at once, but in starts and fits. As I opened my eyes, I blinked repeatedly at the purple spots in the corner of my vision. My eyes hurt. My head hurt.

As my vision cleared, I became aware of the room around me. I noticed shelves. I noticed cabinets. I noticed eggshell white walls. Looking down, I noticed patterned bruising from my wrists, up to my forearms and shoulders. Though I didn't realize it at the time, the patterned bruising went up to my neck and into my eyes. As I shifted my head around, I felt a stiffness in my neck.

An IV was attached to my wrist. I later learned that I had to be given fluids intravenously due to the length of time I was out. Shaking my head from its stupor, I tried to lean forward to get up.

"There now," Adam's voice reassured me as I tried to get up, "lay back down. You've been out for a few days, and I don't want you hurting yourself."

I obeyed.

"You poor baby," Adam continued while placing his hand on my leg, "you've been poked and prodded like a pincushion for the last couple of days. The company uses a proprietary cocktail of neurochemical changes and sensory stimuli to generate its cognitive reconditioning. I don't know if you were conscious enough to notice the headphones, the VR headset, and the prods. I could imagine that would have been intimidating for you, so I wish that they would have waited until you were completely under before hauling all of that in."

I smiled sweetly. I wanted to put my hand on top of his but wanted to avoid shifting any of the needles. I opened my mouth to speak--I wanted to tell Adam that I wasn't intimidated at all and that being anything and everything he wanted was worth any of the pain--but I found myself unable to form any words. My mouth opened and closed vainly, but no words came out.

"Ah," Adam observed my plight, "so we're already observing the changes. Under the reconditioning, I've been assigned as your 'master.' And part of your programming disallows you from speaking unless your master has given you permission."

Adam moved his hand to the side of my face, gently caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. "You had a tube down your throat during part of the procedure, and I'm worried that speaking would exacerbate any internal abrasion, so I'm not going to allow you to speak yet."

A cocktail of feelings swirled around my mind. First, I was astounded by the profundity of this new change. I would have obeyed him anyway, but I felt as if my body was incapable of speaking. How could Adam have such control over me with a mere verbal statement? What did they do to me when I was out?

Second, I gushed that Adam cared so much for my wellbeing. He learned exactly what would happen, and took the time to make sure that I wouldn't hurt myself. Despite the awkward circumstances, my love for Adam deepened.

Adam continued caressing my cheek. "Your only concern right now is getting better." At his words, my thoughts cleared and became tranquil. Adam had mastery over my very thoughts. Adam could see the change in my face. "Good girl. Now go back to sleep." Instantly, I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, my throat was less sore. I further noticed that there were no more tubes or needles in my arms. I assumed that I was in some sort of outpatient room. I slowly raised my head and looked around. The room was empty. I tried to call out for help, but I still couldn't open my mouth to speak. Adam's command not to speak was probably still in effect. I later learned that Adam hadn't realized that commands would last perpetually until reversed.

After a long hour, Adam entered the room. I inferred from the bag of leftovers in his hand that he had just come back from lunch.

"Well good morning, Beautiful! Although," he looked at his watch, "'good afternoon' is more accurate. Sleep well?"

I nodded and smiled.

"Good girl! Let's get you into the car and to your new home."

My 'new home'? I might have missed that part, but was I moving in with him? If I ever agreed to that, I couldn't remember it.

Adam continued: "I've already had your belongings removed. After a polite conversation, your landlord agreed to release you from your lease and forego any penalties or amounts due." Knowing Adam's reputation as a feared lawyer and negotiator, I worried about what he meant by "polite conversation." I never liked my landlord, but I pitied him if he tried to say 'no' to Adam.

"From this point forward, everything that used to belong to you will legally belong to me. I have some paperwork at home for you to sign that will tie up any loose ends. Your social security card, birth certificate, family photos, and the like are in a drawer at the office. The rest of your belongings--your boy clothes, your video games, tennis rackets, etc.--have been liquidated or destroyed. You're mine now. You'll be focusing on my needs. From this point forward, I decide what you enjoy. I decide what fulfills you. I decide what makes you happy."

I didn't realize it at the time, but the cognitive conditioning that I had just undergone gave Adam such power over my thoughts and feelings that what he was saying was literally true.

Adam helped me out of the bed and out of the outpatient clinic. He handed me a garment that looked like a baby-blue nightie and ordered me to put it on. I held onto Adam's arm as he walked me out of the clinic.

As we drove toward our new home, Adam rested his hand possessively on my thigh.

"Once we're home, you and I will have some fun," Adam explained, "I'm not going to lie: I'm inclined to make you suck my cock right here in the car."

My mouth watered at the thought. I shifted in my seat so that my shoulders were squarely toward him. I licked my lips to moisten them and bit my lower lip.

Adam chuckled at my enthusiasm. "No, not yet, Love. I've been looking forward to this since I met you. And for our first time, we're going to do it right."

'Since he met me'? How could he have known that I was into this? That I was like this? I'd only shared this part of myself anonymously with other anonymous users online. Unless someone had hacked my laptop or had somehow tracked me online, how could anyone have known that I would be the type to agree to this kind of thing?

My thoughts were interrupted as we pulled into a vast driveway. As I looked out the window of the car, I saw one of the biggest houses I've ever seen in the city. As a partner in the firm, I knew that Adam was well-to-do. But I didn't realize exactly how well-to-do.

Adam gracefully slid out of the car and around to the passenger's side. He opened my door and waived me out. As we approached the steps of the vast front porch (do you still call it a "porch" if it's attached to a certifiable mansion?), Adam grabbed my upper back with his right hand and swept my legs out from under me in his left. I felt profoundly small and delicate as he carried me up the steps and toward the front door.

Did he not trust that I could climb the steps by myself, having just come out of surgery? Or did he enjoy sweeping me off my feet and carrying me through the threshold like a bride on her wedding night?

I inferred the latter, as Adam continued to carry me until we made it through the threshold. I was in awe of the extravagant house that I was standing in. In all my life, I didn't recall ever stepping into a home with a grand entrance hall with a grand staircase in its center. The staircase, lined with crimson carpet over dark hardwood flooring, ascended into the middle rear of the room into a mezzanine with doors on either side.

Adam took me by the hand and led me up the grand staircase. Near the top of the steps, before parting to the left and right to the mezzanine level, there was a gorgeous and expensive piece of artwork on the top center wall. The piece looked extremely old, as the canvas was worn, the paint was faded, and the figure's proportions didn't match their distance in the foreground or background. It was extraordinarily tall. The base of the painting started at the floor of the platform and the top of the painting extended several feet above my head.

In the center of the painting and a little toward the top, sat a man with a crown on his head, a whip in one hand, and a cluster of grapes in the other. Surrounding the figure was a series of smaller figures, of varying ages and genders, kneeling in front of the man with their heads bowed.

Adam stopped us in front of the painting. "Katie, have you read any of Jeremy Bentham's work? A simple nod or shake of the head will suffice."

I shook my head.

"Gotcha. I didn't think so. 'Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do as well as to determine what we shall do.' Do you know what that means, Katie?"

I shook my head.

"In short, the master of your pain and pleasure is essentially the master of you."

I nodded; the principle seemed straightforward enough.

"As of your operation," Adam continued, "you've handed me control over your pain and pleasure. And thus, you've given me you. I want to demonstrate what I mean."

Adam turned to look at me and gripped my chin with his hand, raising my head to look him directly in the eye. "Katie, you're a good girl. Daddy is so proud of you."

Warmth grew in my torso, starting in my stomach and filling my chest. The warm glow seemed to radiate into my extremities and through my face, which was beaming in a goofy, ridiculous smile. I was on cloud 9.

"You're conditioned to, among other things, hang completely onto my approval or disapproval. Not that you would, but since your operation, you wouldn't be able to disobey me or even try to disappoint me."

As if to prove a point, Adam moved his hand from me and placed both hands on his hips. He looked down on me crossly and shouted, "Bad girl! That's a bad girl! Daddy is not happy!"

While I was startled by his sudden change in demeanor, that didn't explain why I started to hyperventilate. An icy-cold pain started in my stomach and grew to fill my chest and extremities. I couldn't breathe. Or I could breathe, but I didn't feel like I was getting air. My heart rate increased rapidly as if it would burst out of my chest. Tears filled my eyes as I fell face-forward onto the ground. My posture looked like a hybrid between curling into a fetal position and prostrating myself before my master.

Adam spoke up quickly, "It's okay, Love. I'm not mad at you. Things are okay. Daddy is happy with you."

The icy pain subsided. My breathing slowed. I stopped crying. My heart rate slowed.

Adam helped me to my feet. "There's a good girl," he cooed as he held my face to his chest, "I apologize for making you go through that. But if you ever try to disobey me or disappoint me in any way, I want that to be an informed choice."

I appreciated that he said that, but it didn't sound like I had much of a choice at all.

With his right hand still holding the side of my head against his chest, Adam reached out with his other hand and manipulated a hidden switch on the side of the painting. Amazingly, the painting slid to the side, revealing a hidden room behind.

Adam laughed at my astonished gasp. "It's neat, right? Back in the '90s, I was into the alternative home-improvement scene, with trick doors and hidden rooms. I was also a Resident Evil fan. The foyer of my home looks a lot like the foyer in that game, so I thought, 'what the hell?'"

As Adam led me into the hidden room, I quickly understood why he chose to hide this chamber. The walls were lined with riding crops, whips, chains, collars, leashes, and other devices that I didn't recognize. The floor was filled with varying pieces of furniture that one wouldn't typically have out in the open; a wooden chair with built-in restraints, a device that looked like a massage table and was clearly designed to lock someone into place as you fucked them from behind, two cages, crossbeams with cuffs hanging from them, and some other pieces of furniture that I couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Raise your arms," Adam commanded. Even before I realized what I was doing, I had my arms raised. Adam slid the blue nightie off of my body. I was naked and completely vulnerable in front of him.

Adam walked away from me, toward a tall, crimson, wing-backed chair in the rear corner of the chamber. Adam sat in the chair with his legs spread and his arms spread out as if he was king of the world. And as far as I was concerned, he might as well have been.

"On your hands and knees," Adam commanded. My body complied before I even realized what I was doing.

"Crawl to me. Slowly." Putting one hand and knee in front of the other, I slowly made my way toward my new master.

"Be more sensual about it. Lither. Swing your ass and hips a little as you crawl." As if I had been training for years--or as if I was a slut to whom this came naturally--my body complied.

"Good girl." A wry smile spread across my face at the praise.

When I was a foot away from his knees, Adam snapped his fingers. As if I had been trained before, I raised myself so that I was still on my knees, but my torso was upright. I then lowered my ass so that it was touching my ankles, with my knees bent and spread. My elbows locked in at my sides, and my wrists came up to the top of my chest, limp with my palms facing down. I looked like a dog begging for a treat.

I then opened my mouth in a subtle 'O' shape, raised my inner eyebrows in a pleading posture, and tilted my head a little to the side.

Adam laughed and made a little fist pump as if he just succeeded at something that he wasn't sure would work. Even in his position of power and authority, I couldn't help but find him boyishly adorable.

"The reconditioning came with some pre-programmed commands," Adam explained. "I'll add more later, but the company is pretty confident in what commands a master will want a slave to have right out of the box. Obviously, for starters, you're programmed to be an expert in fellatio and cunnilingus. You also have some pre-programed commands like 'Slut mode,' 'Cock worship mode,' 'Dog mode,' 'Cat mode,' and some other fun ones."

I could guess what those commands probably entailed. But I wondered what else had been programmed into my brain.

Adam unzipped his jeans and pulled out a massive, veiny cock. It was flaccid, but still one of the biggest I'd seen. No wonder he carried himself with such confidence.

Adam snapped his fingers, "cock worship mode."

My thoughts blurred and my mind slowed. It seemed that fog had descended on the room, as the only things that my eyes and brain could comprehend were Adam and his massive, godlike cock. Time seemed to stand still. Space and distance seemed to contract around me, narrowing the distance between me and my new god: Adam's cock. I no longer felt the cold air against my skin. I no longer felt the weight of my body between my knees and the floor. I had no sensory input but for the one thing in the universe that existed at that moment: Adam's cock.

Beyond my sensory inputs, my memories and identity disappeared. I had no ego. I had no id. I had only a mouth. And that mouth belonged all over Adam's cock. I forgot my life. I forgot my name. I was only aware of my position in space and its proximity to my god.

My back arched, my mouth widened, and my jaw relaxed as I prepared to receive his massive member. I barely noticed Adam's devious grin as I approached my new god, my mouth watering and ajar.

I firmly, but reverently, held my new god in both of my hands. As it grew in my hands, it extended beyond the width of both of my clenched fists and extended enough to fill my mouth. I moaned as I kissed it up and down with big, wet kisses. I looked up at my master as I rubbed the shaft with my hands and put the head in my mouth.

I had no sense of time or direction as I bobbed my head up and down his cock. Each moment seemed stretched for an eternity. I was blissfully mindful of his taste, and the feel of each vein and ridge. After several minutes--and a puddle of drool on the ground that I wasn't coherent enough to be embarrassed about--I felt my god pulsating.

Excitement filled my chest as my lips were wrapped around my Lord and Master. I waived my arms excitedly, as I knew he would fill my mouth with a warm reward.

"Fuck," I vaguely heard Adam say, "remember: good girls swallow."

I later realized that 'good girls swallow' must also have been a pre-programmed order, as I knew exactly what to do as his cum filled my mouth.

Keeping my lips sealed around the head of Adam's cock, I pulled up on the shaft and sucked the tip to make sure that every drop went into my mouth. I then pulled back, sealing my lips as they left the foreskin. I tilted my head up to look Adam in the eye and opened my mouth to show him the load that he gave me. I then closed my mouth, swallowed every drop, then opened it again to show him what a good girl I was.

'Cock worship mode' must have been programmed to wear off as soon as he came, because my senses came back to me. I was suddenly aware of the drool coating my chin. I could see--to my embarrassment--the puddle of drool on the ground in front of me. My jaw and throat suddenly felt excruciatingly sore.

"That's a good girl," Adam assured me. He looked at me with a relaxed smile as he patted the side of my face. "You did a great job for Daddy."

I beamed.

"Now clean this up, Love. There are paper towels and other cleaning supplies in that cabinet in the corner. Once that's finished, meet me out in the entrance hall. Kneel at the base of the stairs until I retrieve you. On your way out of this room, use the switch on the side of the painting to close it behind you.

Adam walked away blithely, not bothering to look back at me.

I sat there for a minute before getting up to clean, a goofy, ridiculous smile plastered over my face. This was my new life. Adam was my new master. And I couldn't wait to see what changes he would instill next.

**TO BE CONTINUED**