Dreams of Darkness. Part 1 — All in the Mind.
By Writer345
6. Life goes on in our New World Order.
Generally speaking, I felt much the same as I had before Anjika mind-fucked me. Oh, there were differences but they were subtle and the main ones were that I was no longer stressed nor did I feel that I had to take charge and be dominant. We could now have an intimate life together which is what I had always craved. In simple terms, I was her wife: not that we intended to start a family. Or at least: not a conventional one.
It took until Thursday to process Emily: the extra time no doubt being needed to overcome her homophobia. On the surface very little had changed other than she seemed to be more relaxed and at-ease with herself. Anjika informed us that, as far as ‘work’ was concerned, the girl was away on a fortnight’s holiday, so we had plenty of time to get to know her. Anjika’s position as Human Resources Manager gave her free access to all employment records including the holiday rota which certainly came in useful.
Next, she instructed the younger red-head to move in with us and so save money on rent. Emily readily agreed—not that she could dream of doing anything else. As far as she was now concerned, Mistress Anjika was She Who Must Be Obeyed! As for me? Well, everything seemed to be as it had been before except that it now felt perfectly natural for me to comply with my bff’s wishes and to acquiesce to her whims and suggestions no matter what they happened to be.
Was she still my bff? Well yes, she was, but she was now much, much more. Pleasing Anjika Gupta had suddenly become my reason for existing. Oh, she was still my mate Angie: but somehow, well she seemed to have grown into infinitely more and my whole world revolved around her.
Changes came slowly, like I said, Emily moved in and life went on. We still worked at the same place doing the same jobs as before although I must admit that work no longer seemed to be as important as it had been before. The weeks drifted by and I am pretty sure that no outsiders noticed any changes in the three of us, well perhaps a few thought that Emily was a little more self-assured, a little more confident and a lot more efficient. Hell, it was more than a few as she soon earned a promotion to team-leader in the accounts department: a promotion and a healthy pay rise.
Anjika took charge of ‘family’ finances; for that is what the three of us had become: a real-life family. The other change was that at home, Emily took on the role of maid and home-maker: oh, I pitched in and did my share, but the young red-head seemed to want to serve us all in that capacity. Anjika? Well She made plans and organised us all. Our changed status meant that neither Emily nor I had any real need for our own money and this resulted in there being much, much more available to spend on the house and on family needs. She didn’t need a car either as she never went anywhere without her Mistress, so her Ford Focus was sold and the money that would have been needed to run it went into the kitty.
The builders made the first of many visits and we began with a reduction in the number of bedrooms: Anjika had the three smaller ones at the back knocked into one. This meant the loss of her study, but She took over one of the downstairs rooms—I did say that it was a large Victorian house, didn’t I? My savings... Emily’s savings... Salaries... Spare cash... It all went into the kitty and the house was completely renovated so that it gained an airy interior, central heating, modern panelling and false ceilings to become a thoroughly twenty-first century dwelling while the exterior retained its previous nineteenth century grey-stone charm.
Anjika retained her own large front bedroom but I lost mine for in the new scheme of things I was required to move into what Mistress termed ‘The Maintenance Room’ along with her other girls, er, or rather ‘girl’, for that is how things stood at this time. Anjika loved girls, which was something that we always had in common, remember? She had always loved girls but now she seemed to need to ‘own’ them...
...and why shouldn’t she? If my Anjika wanted her own sex-slaves, who was I to oppose her? As far as I was concerned, my bff not only deserved to own girls, She was entitled to. More than that, it was my duty, as her oldest friend, to support and assist her in attaining this very reasonable and noble ambition.
The Maintenance Room, as it took shape, contained a row of identical black reclining chairs: each one with its own attached computer station. The stations were a much simpler version of the three processing units down in our basement, and it was my duty to install all of the kit and to get it networked and working efficiently. Oh Anjika still assisted me, but the bulk of the support work was now carried out by Emily.
Anjika’s girls needed to spend regular time in the Maintenance Room either relaxing or sleeping. It was during this that our conditioning was reinforced and we were instructed as to any tasks that we needed to carry out. I soon got used to sleeping in my reclining chair; beds were for fun and for sex while the chair was for rest and recuperation. The screen, head-set and computer were all part of this routine and I soon got used to the gentle sounds, soothing music and quiet voice whispering me to sleep. The shard of the old Siobhan’s mind that had survived intact knew exactly what was going on and recognised the brainwashing for what it was but the rest of me/her didn’t give a fuck. My time in the chair made Anjika happy and this knowledge made me happy so I wasn’t going to complain was I? I was property and she owned me so what else was there to say?
Other changes were introduced more slowly: clothing, for instance. Anjika began to insist that Emily and I dressed in an identical fashion: at least we did when at home. I’d never suspected that my bff might be a fetishist; She’d never given me the slightest inkling that she was into that kind of thing, and believe me, I probably knew her better than she knew herself. She dressed us both in ultra short, sky-blue shiny skirts that barely hid our pussies; tight white Lycra sleeveless tops and boots with three inch heels. Now I’d never been a high-heel girl so it all came as a bit of a shock. After the clothes came the make-up, nowhere near as subtle as what I had worn before and shortly afterwards came the new hair styles again as decreed by Mistress. Hair had to be straightened and worn in a ponytail at the back and a low fringe at the front. My hair had been medium length and I had been intending to get it cut shorter: (I was a dyke, remember?) but now I realized that I needed to grow it down to my waist. Realized? Well, I reckon that it was realised for me, but who cares? I certainly didn’t care about anything other than pleasing Mistress Anjika.
The other change was that Dr Wendy Dryden became a frequent visitor to our family home so I guess that I should say a few words about her as I know that Anjika respected her greatly. Initially I was more than happy that we were in contact with her former tutor: a woman destined to play a major part in all of our lives.
Wendy... Where should I start? Well she was a red-head, just like Emily and me, although hers was a richer red while we were at the sandy end of the spectrum. Her eyes? Ours were blue-grey while hers were the deepest green that I’ve ever seen in a human being; so green in fact that I wrongly suspected contact lenses. She was about ten years older than Anjika and me but seemed much more street wise and intelligent; well she was a woman making a success of a job rooted in the male dominated world of vicious university politics so she would have to be.
Wendy... A vivacious and out going lesbian with nice tits and a plump fuck-me body which goes to show that it takes one to know one or rather, to fancy one. She’d just been appointed as a lecturer in psychology when Anjika and I were undergraduates at Ludlow University and I remember that she had taken quite a shine to my bff and helped Her to settle in. I guess it was because they were both new to the place and both feeling a little lost that Wendy became more of a friend than a tutor. I didn’t have much to do with her at the time: just enough to make me wish that we had lecturers in the Computer Department that resembled Wendy Dryden. Sadly all we had were geeks who were way out on the boring end of the spectrum. I’m a geek and proud of it but I am definitely not a bore!
The Wendy that breezed back into our lives was still at Ludlow but was now Head of the Psychology Department and even more self-assured. Hell she knew how people’s brains worked so why wouldn’t she be? She came, inspected Anjika’s set-up, made recommendations, flirted with the three of us and left again. She was free with her affections and with her advice so what wasn’t there to like about her? For the first time in my life I realised why Mistress liked red-heads so much and why she seemed to be collecting them. With a role-model like Wendy, why not?
I suspected that Wendy was a ‘Mistress’ too because the woman who accompanied her on her frequent visits seemed strangely familiar, or at least, the way that she behaved was! Her name was Helen Blake and she was nominally Wendy’s secretary. But think about it. How many secretaries live with and submissively trail around after their boss when they are not at work? Also, her name might have been ‘Helen’ but Wendy always referred to her as ‘Andromeda’... Weird! There was definitely more to Dr Dryden than met the eye.
So what did Wendy’s visits really entail? Well afternoon tea and small talk for a start during which Emily and I got to wait on our visitors. The small talk was typically about everything and nothing in particular and seemed to revolve around psychology and the happenings at Ludlow University, such as who was in, who was out and what was happening to former staff and students. Me? I couldn’t care less about the place but Anjika still seemed to want to be part of that august seat of learning. Hey, is that sarcasm? Yep! I guess that it is!
After tea and small talk, Wendy, trailed by Helen/Andromeda, would inspect our set-up and comment upon the improvements that had been made since her previous visit. Then she would make her pronouncements which seemed as if she was grading the work carried out by her eager pupil. The commentary was invariably followed by ‘helpful suggestions’ which Anjika would avidly carry out during the following days and weeks.
I particularly remember one batch of observations as they affected me directly. “Anjika, dear,” she said sweetly, “the three of you are rattling around in this large empty house. Don’t you think that you should expand your coterie?”
Mistress looked a little crest fallen. “I don’t think I can afford to take on more girls just yet. They’re very expensive to feed and clothe.”
Wendy Dryden smiled knowingly as she walked slowly around our Maintenance Room, peering at this and that. “Hmm, if you inducted mainly girls with jobs then they would more than pay for their own up-keep.”
Anjika looked surprised; this is what Emily and myself were doing after all. “Yes, well...”
“Oh don’t tell me that this hadn’t dawned upon you? And I thought that you were one of my brightest students.” She chuckled and indicated that Helen/Andromeda was to recline onto one of the couches. “You seem to have space here for a dozen, er, pets so why don’t you use it?”
I could see Anjika’s confusion so I butted in. “Do you have any, err, pets, Dr Dryden?”
She gave me a strange look, almost as if she was surprised that I had thoughts of my own, suddenly her mouth turned up at the corners. “Why, yes,” she answered eventually, “I own several.”
She chuckled but didn’t give me time to answer; instead she turned towards Mistress Anjika. “Is she your special one?” She asked, faint amusement noticeable in her voice. “She’s the one that helps you keep organised, isn’t she?”
Anjika looked surprised. “Why yes, Siobhan is my oldest and best-est friend.”
Wendy looked pleased with herself as she walked over to my “oldest and best-est” friend and handed Her some more of those damned DVD’s. “Helen’s been mine ever since we were children so I know how you feel: she’ll always be special and these discs will help you make good use of her.”
Suddenly Doctor Dryden looked straight at me and spoke quietly although what she said didn’t make a whole lot of sense, or at least not on a conscious level. “Bananas are fruit too, Siobhan!”
I sat heavily down on one of the recliners. Frankly I was gob-smacked. The two of them were discussing me as if I was an object. Was that what I had been converted into? An object of amusement? A sex-slave? A pet?” Then I saw Anjika’s expression and knew that I hadn’t yet: Emily, possibly, but not me.
I tried to speak but words were impossible and when I tried to stand I found that movement was too. I didn’t understand what was going on and quite frankly it terrified me although my face refused to display any expression other than a placid, relaxed smile. If bananas were fruit then I seemed to be allergic to them.
Mistress Anjika looked at the pair of DVD’s with more than a little distaste evident in her expression. “What will they do? Will they hurt her? She’s my best friend, after all.”
Wendy smiled. “They’ll allow her to become your controller just as my darling Andromeda is mine. She’ll organise everything for you and look after your pets’ well-being. She’ll become your confidant and adviser while still remaining as your one true friend.”
I tried to speak but still couldn’t and in any case Anjika’s expression seemed to convince me that I shouldn’t even try. Why did she look so thoughtful? Was she actually considering Wendy’s suggestion?
Wendy glanced at me, winked and then chuckled. “Oranges are not the only fruit, are they, Siobhan?”
I recognised the title of Jeanette Winterson’s novel which is a coming-of-age story about a lesbian girl who grows up in an English Pentecostal community but somehow that was not what her statement referred to. No, she was actually giving me permission to speak and move once more. Suddenly it dawned upon me that the conditioning that Emily and I had received contained more levels than either Anjika or I had suspected. Unfortunately I was unable to do anything with this conclusion other than to keep it to myself.