Rose of Forgetfulness
The woman on the table let out a soft, feminine sigh.
The room and the woman in the room were both warm and damp. The woman on the table was lovely and shapely, her body was smooth, ripe and naked. The room was dark and soundless and kept hot and humid for nubile and naked bodies like hers. She was lying on her back, her thighs splayed open and up by restraints, her legs bent at the knee, pushed and held out of the way so to gain access to her most intimate and private of places. Her torso was held at a slight angle by the table she lay on, which was curved perfectly to fit a female shape, cradling and supporting her butt and gently arching her torso, leaving her breasts up and thrust slightly out. At her neck, the table ended and her head fell backwards until caught from falling further by a padded cradle that was centered in a series of concentric, whirring wheels, wheels that looked like something from a hospital. Her arms were pulled over her head and through the rings, and were gently bent at the elbows. At her wrist, elbows, shoulders, around her waist, her lower thighs, her knees and her ankles, large restraints secured her body and kept it centered and still. The restraints were very soft and wide and thickly padded, almost comfortable, but were completely firm and secure. But they were only useful now for positioning her body not restraining her as her whole body was without exception relaxed. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing deep. Her lips were desirable, full but not to excess, slightly parted. Her lips now pursed and made a slight “o” shape, and she breathed a bit deeper, and from her lips escaped a rich, feminine sigh.
The woman on the table sighed softly and then her lips grew still again, resting slightly parted. Her breasts were cradled in large cups made of semi-transparent medical grade rubber, flexible and soft, into which were deeply embedded wires and sensors, ending in dozens of tiny nubs on the inside, which rubbed and crowded insistently into her supple breasts. These led up to metal rings through which her nipples had been threaded. The rings had constricted slightly, leaving her nipples hard through them, and flexible probes were inserted into them. Lower down her body, her pelvic muscles throbbed with rhythmic regularity. A long, large probe had been inserted deep into her vagina, and against her clit a raised, triangular mound of sensors and probes that covered several inches of her sex was pressed and held firmly into her. Every so often it sent a pulse into her damp sex, and every so often the vaginal stimulator expanded and filled her completely, sending a wave of stimulating pressure from the tip of her sex lips to the tip of her womb.
The woman’s eyes, ears and forehead were hidden, shrouded by a large plastic helmet that reached almost to the bottom of her nose. It was fitted tightly, to prevent any light or sound entering the woman that was not desired. Inside the helmet, the woman’s eyes stared blankly at a strange, hypnotic pattern of lights and sounds, her pupils pulsing in time to the patterns being fed into her. Occasionally probes inside the helmet would make a pulse that was even deeper, sending invisible energies directly into her wide-open, receptive eyes.
The rings around her head were constantly turning and whirling. On the control equipment nearby was the image that the rings made. It was a picture of her brain. The image could see her brain’s activity, the location of her thoughts and how intense they were. Her brain was almost completely still now. The controller standing nearby watched her brain carefully. Occasionally a part of her brain would spontaneously shift, would light up. The controller selected that part of her brain on the machine. The whirring disks focused a burst of energy deep and directly into that place, penetrating and breaking the stray thought completely. As it corrected her, the woman on the table sighed meekly.
The controller now pushed a series of buttons and the hypnotic patterns being projected into her ceased. Instead, a series of apparently still images appeared. The controller spoke to the woman on the table through the headphones in her visor. “Use your eyes. Can you see the image?” There was a long pause, until the lips of the woman on the table moved. “yess” she answered with a quiet, docile voice. “Do you know what this is?” the controller asked. Before receiving the answer the controller looked at the display of the woman’s brain. The brain was completely still, and the controller knew the answer the woman would give. “noo” she answered, soft and unresisting. “Good.” Another image flashed before the woman on the table’s eyes. “Do you know what this is?” the controller asked. “noo” the woman on the table responded. “Good.” Images flashed, small and large. The picture of an umbrella, a sun-kissed hotel flanked by palms and a bay full of sails, a map of the world, a pair of heels, a dress, a valley in fog. “noo” The woman on the table responded. “Good.” the controller replied. Face after face flashed by. “noo” “Good.” Another person. A shockingly lovely young woman, with thick chestnut hair lifted by invisible wind, lovely brown eyes and rosy, kissable lips. Fashionably dressed, a winning smile, and eyes glistening like love. “noo” The soft sound of the woman on the table’s voice matched the state of her hypnotized and unresisting mind. “Good.” The images continued.
Behind thick glass overlooking the room where lay the woman on the table, figures cloaked in shadow stand together in near darkness, watching intensely. One of them speaks. “Why don’t you use her yourself?” it chuckled. Another voice, self assured and steady spoke up “Eventually,” the voice said with a smile “but she’s too valuable the way we use her now for that.” “I don’t care how good you say she is, she’s worth millions to us, and the buyers have secured the contract with a 1/4 fee. Why don’t we just kidnap them?” finished another voice, oily and gruff. “Too many loose ends, too many things that can and do go wrong.” said the steady voice “We’ve done this many times, it always works. We’re sending her as a love interest, the mother is a lesbian.” There was grumbling again from the unseen figures. “Don’t worry, we always have a failsafe plan. You’ll get your money… in one year.” Now there was howling. “You never said it would take that long!” “I’ll just get a van and my crew, this is bullshit! This is millions we are talking about here!” The steady voice remained calm. “Try and find a better return on your money in one year. Doing it right takes time.” “But the mark might get injured or get a blem-ish [and he enunciated blemish as if he’d never read it, as if he was speaking legalese about real estate, as if he’d been told what it meant in specific detail], she might get hit by a fucking car in a year! Will you guarantee my millions? We’ve been tailing them for months! We have substantial investments in this contract!” “Will you guarantee that your mark won’t get “blem-ished”, injured or hit by a fucking car doing it your way?” the steady voice retorted. There was no response. “Not to mention the mark comes fully prepared my way. No, this always works. You’re new to this, trust me. We’ve never lost a contract. In one year you’ll get your money”.
The woman on the table lay on her back, her legs splayed apart, her head cradled, her sexual body penetrated and owned. She lay helpless and open in every possible way to those that controlled her. Even her arms were stretched over her head so as to make her more receptive and vulnerable. Aside from the steady, deep throbbing of the muscles in her pelvis and her chest moving up and down as she breathed, she was completely still.
The controller looked away from her still body and up at the glass window. Several moments later, the controller nodded, looked down again, and tapped a sequence of keys. The images flashing in front of her eyes ceased and the deep hypnotic patterns began again. This time however the whirring rings surrounding her head began to send waves into her entire mind. One after the other, unfocused and strong, across her entire brain, like tides crashing against yielding, weak sand, washing everything away. The woman on the table’s mouth opened wider, and she moaned deeply.
The controller tapped at more keys and then walked away. She was left alone to receive the waves passing into her whole mind, over and over, endlessly, without rest or relief. Over and over, for long after the shadowy figures watching her had left. Over and over, for so long that her mind was left splayed open as wide as her legs were, helpless and vulnerable.
After countless hours, the controller returned and noted the responses to the waves in the scans of her brain. She was ready. The controller tapped the keyboard again and the waves crashing into her slowed considerably but also deepened and even strengthened, rocking her open mind back and forth dizzyingly. The sounds and patterns she saw in her visor also became more intense and rhythmic, setting the pace for the stimulation she received in her breasts, the stimulation she received in her sex. Her eyes were open and blank, and her pupils pulsed in time with the hypnosis that filled her and penetrated her to the core of her softened and unresisting mind. Her lips pursed slightly, a sound deep from within her escaped her reddened lips and flushed face, tinged with the deepest submission and acceptance.
On the screen monitoring her brain, parts of her mind were flickering weakly, coming alive again. These parts were exactly matching the mental patterns being fed into them. The woman on the table sighed as they came ever deeper into her. The new thoughts flowed so easily and smoothly into her, like pouring water into a vessel, there was no possibility of resistance; but her body shuddered slightly anyway. The controller noticed this shudder and smiled at the woman on the table, reached over and caressed her damp, warm thigh with her own soft hand.
…and then with her free hand, the controller tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and the waves rocking her mind grew even slower, stronger and deeper. Her body relaxed even more, and her mind blossomed open that much wider. The controller continued to stroke the woman on the tables’ thigh, gently and rhythmically, back and forth, helping her subconscious with softs caresses to submit to the deepest core of her hypnotized mind. The woman on the table’s lips pursed and formed a slight “o” shape. A soft, feminine sigh escaped her, a sigh from a body and mind that were both under complete control.
Rose awoke to a bespoke apartment in a fashionable part of town she had just moved into, because it was where the action was likely to be. She had recently come to the city to work in old media as a graphic designer—she didn’t really like social media and posting pictures of herself online, contrary to normal lifestyles—but the interviews were still in progress and in the meantime she was about to start working at the local coffee shop to keep herself busy and make a little easy money in the meanwhile (and maybe even meet someone, who knows!). The apartment’s decor was like Ikea splashed with Etsy, Scandinavian warm white woods and kitschy homemade decorations, nordic austere and maybe unusually empty, but with a feminine touch and just-moved-into cleanliness. She had gone to university several years ago for this career, but because of a bad relationship and even worse breakup, and being trapped on the wrong side of the world, never had the opportunity to pursue it. Now for the first time maybe in her whole life, she was free. Free of all the expectations, free of all the bad relationships, free to actually do what she’s always wanted to do and be what she was always meant to be. Free also just to sleep the day away. Rose yawned and stretched. She felt good. She felt really good.
Rose got out of bed, half undressed, shuffled into the living room in a bit of a morning daze and looked at herself in the tall floor mirror. Even she had to admit she looked a hot mess, and in a pretty irresistible way. Thick reddish-brown hair flowed in happy bed hair tangles down to her soft shoulders and framed her oval shaped face perfectly, her large blue eyes sparkled even when half-lidded and sleepy, her breasts were perky and firm and sat happily on her chest, which she could (and often did!) wear without a bra when she thought she could get away with it, and yet her waist and hips were no less attractive and begged to be caressed and enjoyed. She was a really a stunning woman, with the kind of rare kind of body that looked as amazing with clothes on as without. She looked at her body in the mirror and ran her fingers across her breasts and down to her belly while her other hand gathered up her bed-hair in a bunch and up to her head, and made a pouty, sexy face in the mirror. Feeling a cold gust, she turned around and noticed the silk print curtains which normally covered the large picture windows behind her, and should have been protecting her modesty from the rest of the city right now, were billowing free, leaving the windows naked and her topless body exposed for all lucky enough to see. She looked and noticed a balcony door still cracked open, which she must have left open last night, though she had no memory of doing so, letting the cold morning air in. Simply owning it, she turned facing the open window and to whatever audience she may have had, and posed the same way again. And then she laughed.