Memory Reinforcement

Tags: #dom:f #sub:f #brainwashing #conditioning #bondage #tech_control #headphones #memory_manipulation

Summary:

Even the nicest memories can get in your way when you need to become Mistress' perfect slave

Disclaimers:

All the people involved in this story are explicitly adult - their ages are 21 and 22 years old, respectively.

I stare at the spiral, trying and failing to stop focusing on it. The low, constant mumbling that escapes my lips is made completely unintelligible by the gag between them, even for me. But somehow, I can't stop myself from mumbling more.

I know that I'm repeating something, the same thing coming out of the headphones, but I can't even focus on what it is. Not when there's so many other things assaulting my eyes, my ears, my body. It's all making it so hard for me to think.

The sound of a door opening and closing isn't enough to make me react. The soft kiss on my cheek and stroke on my exposed chest barely does more than making me lean into it.

"Hey honey." whispers my Mistress. "I'm home. Sorry for being late."

"S'kuh." I try to reply through my gag, more automatically than out of real reassurance. The casual words are still ingrained in me even after all of this, but I find it harder and harder to remember why that's my answer.

"So, are you still all here?" She asks, her voice staying warm and casual.

"Yush." I mumble back, focused on her presence just as much as the spiral. It's hard to think, but I know I must always answer my Mistress as truthfully and obediently as I can. That's my duty as her slave.

The spiral already drilled that into my head.

"Aww. That's a shame, I was really hoping that you'd be done by now." Mistress sounds a bit disappointed, as she always does when she hears my answer. "But that's okay, we can still have fun. Here, let me get you out of there."

The spiral turns off. The whispered words coming through the headphones keep going, and keep me fuzzier than usual, but I'm still a little more awake now. I can focus on the room around me a bit.

Mistress reaches behind my head and unstraps my gag, removing both the ball and the flexible tube inside of it. It isn't painful in any way - the tube just stops in my mouth, and I still have to swallow when it gives me food and water. But it is useful, it means that I'm lower maintenance for Mistress while Her spiral is training me.

As Mistress' fingers roam down, I feel the straps around my arms getting unwrapped, caresses around the marks that the leather left on me. I didn't struggle too much today, not as much as I did at first. But I still did. A bit. Sometimes.

I never struggle when Mistress is here, of course. I never have to struggle, because I never need to. Mistress takes care of everything, so that's why I don't have to fight back.

Everything is always so nice when Mistress is here.

I'm pretty sure I thought that even before the spiral drilled it into me.

The straps around my legs all get removed as well, and Mistress guides me up. I lean on her a bit as my shaky legs support me once again. They're always a bit shaky after looking at the spiral. I haven't moved since this morning, when she strapped me in.

"Here you go." She coos. "Good girl. Do you feel sore, or hungry, or thirsty?"

I swallow, and shake my head. I don't feel like much, right now. I'm really not either of these, though. Even after sitting for hours, I did struggle enough to prevent myself from getting numb, and the tube did keep me fed and hydrated.

"Good." says Mistress as she guides me through the door and towards Her bedroom. "I would like to talk with you for a bit, see how far you are right now. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Yes. Anything for Mistress." I answer, half-droning the words.

"Good girl." She whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear through the wireless headphones. I still let myself feel the rush of pleasure it gives me.

The other litany of whispers and mantras help make it feel so, so much better. They are still assaulting my ears, even now. They haven't stopped in days. I guess Mistress doesn't plan on turning my headphones off anymore... She did at the start. I think I remember them being turned off, at least.

I wonder why She hasn't stopped them since then. I hope I'm not bothering Mistress by not breaking fast enough.

Once she sits on the bed, she makes me lie down and put my head on her thighs. She starts stroking my hair as I stare up at her.

Her eyes are just as addicting as the spiral. I'm already getting lost in them.

"So, honey." She asks, and her voice as she calls me honey fills me with joy. "Did you manage to obey the spiral completely today?"

"No." I answer. I must always answer Mistress truthfully.

"Ah." She doesn't sound too surprised, but I can feel that she's disappointed. "How many times did you fail to obey?"

"Once." I answer again, blank and obedient in her hands.

"That's way better than yesterday, honey. Good girl." I let myself smile at the praise even as more pleasure flows through me. I know she worked on me a lot yesterday, to make it easier for the spiral to work. I love making her proud. "Tell me when you didn't obey the spiral, and why."

"The spiral was telling me to forget more memories." I start, recounting the events as they happened. "It told me to pick one memory I could remember, to focus on it, and to make it disappear. Then, to do it again. And again."

"Did you completely fail to obey that part? Do you still remember everything?"

I think about it, and shake my head no. "There is just one memory I couldn't forget. I don't remember the others."

"Good girl." She says again, scratching my head. "I really like how well you followed my orders. Good girl."

I lean into the feeling, letting my Mistress reward me. I love making her happy, making her proud at how well I'm doing. I love being her slave.

"So, honey. What is that last pesky memory?"

My eyes refocus almost instantly. I don't like Mistress calling that memory pesky. She's... Mistress is always right, but she just doesn't know...

"I can't forget it." I say, trying to gather my thoughts about what to say. "I don't want to forget it."

"Honey." patiently says Mistress. "It's important that you forget everything, so I can remake you into my perfect slave. You know that, right?"

"Yes." I answer, truthful as always. "I know how important it is that I forget."

"Then why not forget this?"

"It's because." I start, and I feel tears starting to fill my eyes. "It's the first time we went on a date, Mistress. The day I ordered a mint milk-shake with extra caramel because you didn't believe the combo would ever work. The day..."

"Shh." Mistress stops my rambling and strokes my hair again. "I know, honey. I know that's an important day for the both of us. I remember it. I always will. But you, you need to let it go, okay?"

"Y-" I can't answer yes, even to this direct of an order. I need to always say the truth to my Mistress.

I swallow.

"I can't let us go, Mistress. I can't lose us. You."

Mistress' hands start stroking around my face. Her face is smiling, serene. It's an anchor that I have to hold on to while we're talking about this.

"I love what you're doing right now, honey, but you've got it all wrong. Here. Let me help you get over this."

She pushes my headphones off my head, and everything turns silent.

It's all jarring, not having Mistress' voice constantly worming its way into my ears. Not having a reassuring stream of half-thoughts to rely on.

There's just me, and Mistress. I shudder at the feeling.

Then, Mistress takes out her small pen light, and turns it on.

"I want you to focus on the light, honey. You know the light. You know how to do it. You know how to focus. You've become so good at focusing for me, honey. So, you can focus on the light again, simply and easily."

The light shines directly in my eyes, flashing from one to the other, and I'm already starting to drop so deep for Mistress. I know she yearns for a future where I'm always blank and obedient, but she still enjoys dropping me down.

I help her along as much as I can. Even as her voice continues to push me further and further down, guiding me along our often-treaded path to trance, I push myself to drop deeper.

"So deep" Snap. "now, deeper" Snap. "and deeper" Snap. "with each step" Snap. "that you take."

That one sentence always feel so familiar, so engrained. I half-wonder if it's one of my mantras or if I'm just that attached to it, but the thought fades away as fast as it appeared. I'm too deep to have thoughts.

And the rest fades away too, far, far from myself, leaving just me and Mistress' voice as she starts telling me the things I should know.

Mistress tells me that she's the most important person in my life. I know that. I love that.

Mistress tells me that whatever alraeady happened to me, and whatever will happen to me, she will always be the most important person in my life.

Mistress explains to me that it doesn't matter if I can't remember, and it doesn't matter if I lose memories of us. She's still so important to me, and I'll always remember that fact as truth even without any of my memories.

Then, Mistress starts talking about a memory. Our first day together on a date.

Mistress tells me how, on our first day together, we went to a small café together. I remember the place, the small open terrace that was closed for the winter, and the barely-filled interior with the table we picked.

Mistress tells me how I ordered milk-shakes for the both of us. I remember the cashier, the menus.

Mistress orders me to remember how good the milk-shake I drank was, to focus on the flavor, to focus on the texture. And I do, I focus on the flavor, the texture.

Then, Mistress tells me to remember something else. To remember how little of the milk-shake I drank, how little of it I tasted. How easy it is to change my memories when Mistress tells me to, since she knows better than me what actually happened.

And I feel the taste fade. I can remember the milk-shake in front of me, remembering it being more and more full until it was left untouched for the whole evening.

Mistress tells me to remember how we didn't order, how we just sat at the table to appreciate each other's company. I let the face of the cashier fade from my mind, let the memories of the menus disappear. All that's left is just me, Mistress, and our animated discussion.

Then, Mistress tells me to remember the lack of talking, how I just stayed still, basking in Her presence. And I remember just staring at her, filled with memories of her pretty face inside of the little café, just staring at her all evening, the details of our conversation fading away.

Then, Mistress tells me to remember how the place was empty, the same as it always is. How the whole event didn't happen in a café, how it was only in my mind, the same place where Mistress always is. And I can't remember what the café looked like, I don't remember what a café would even look like.

And all I'm left with is the memory of Mistress, how happy I am with her, and how much she always owned me.

Mistress tells me, again, that all other memories are the same. Memories of us together are memories of her owning me, molding me. And that the details of how, when, and why she did so are less important than her ownership. That anything I might remember gets in the way of her control.

And that, if the spiral tells me to forget, then I should also forget memories of her.

Once Mistress wakes me up, I look up adoringly at her.

"Hey honey." She whispers. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes." I answer. "I feel so good for you, Mistress."

"I'm glad." She says. And picks up the headphones again. "Are you ready to go to bed, honey?"

I nod, and let her slip the headphones over my ears. I'm back with the constant reinforcing whispers of her ownership, the one thing about Mistress that matters to me the most.

Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll finally be done.

Afterword:

Another of these stories that just happened without really any prompting; I just started writing the beginning, then it came together, then it ended up like this.

Inspiration mainly comes from Nevermind's Commands, which is very different from this but was still what I thought about the most when writing this. Also, Jukebox has a story called Take It All Away which has a very similar theme, even if it wasn't an inspiration when writing this!