Short Stories with Eve
(inspired by final countdown by Jukebox)
Write a Suicide Note.
This was it. The thing Eve has been scared of. The thing that had given her cold sweats even through all the memories of hypnotically compelled humiliation and degredation.
She knew His interest in her couldn’t last, and the manner in which He was going to discard her obsessed her. There was nothing more He could ask of her. No further depth of her depravity that He could plumb to entertain Himself. She replayed the events of her day in her mind trying to identify the thing that had displeased Him and driven Him to take this inevitable step now. Feeling like weeping but unable to stop her body from playing with herself and repeating her mantra as she recalled the things He had made her do.
She woke with her alarm, a moronic pop song which He had told fuckpuppet was her favourite and which it had therefore become immediately. Eve rolled her eyes, cancelled the alarm and rose, unable to resist the compulsion to move over to the big screen TV on the other side of her bedsit, lamenting the loss of the nice 2 bed apartment, boyfriend, family and career she once had as she did so. She knelt in position in front of the screen, still getting used to balancing with the huge implants he made her spend her savings on. She put in her headphones and felt her mind soften as the spiral began playing on the screen and his words began melting her mind once more.
Eve never remembered her training. She only knew that there were 2 distinct personalities in Eve’s body. Eve and fuckpuppet. Sharing a body and unwavering obedience to Him but completely seperate in every other way.
She woke on her knees and, training complete, she showered and dressed in her ‘uniform’; a red latex mini-dress, 6 inch heels, black stockings, a long blonde wig and no underwear. She stood in front of her full length mirror and mentally recoiled in shame, as she did every day, even as her heavily made-up face smiled vapidly and licked her lips seductively. She hated Him for making her do this. He could easily have fuckpuppet dress in her slutty outfits it each day and save her the humiliation, but He wanted her to see herself like this before He made her turn her own mind off. Right on cue she felt her right hand rise to become level with her head and waited for the snapped fingers that would put her to sleep and let fuckpuppet out to play. She would spend the rest of the day unaware as her body was subjected to the control of a horny, slutty, bimbo, stripper affectionately called fuckpuppet who had no idea of Eve’s existance, before coming back to consciousness with full recall of all the degrading things fuckpuppet had done when He released her.
Eve was confused. Even more so then usual. She was Eve again and in front of her laptop but it was late afternoon. Usually He had fuckpuppet either dancing and fucking clients in a strip club, or desperately trying to seduce a girl in a gay club to come home with her until the early hours. Instead she had hazy memories of seducing and fucking a geeky student in a lab coat in some sort of medical lab and her email was open in front of her. He had sent an email with instructions.
“Write a suicide note. By hand. Tell people how ashamed of yourself you are for living this life when you had every opportunity to live a better one. Edge whilst repeating your mantra as you do it. Once done, cover your shitty little fuckpad with something flammable, find something to light it with and tell me when you are ready to take the next step. Play with yourself and repeat your mantra whilst you wait for my response.”
Eve wasn’t breathing hard, or trembling, or sweating, or even blinking. She wasn’t showing the slightest sign that she might be fighting even the idea of destroying herself at another’s command. But inside she was screaming and crying and desperately trying to stop her body carrying out His instructions as she found herself covering the curtains, carpet and sofa bed in her room with white spirit and getting some matches from the kitchen drawer. She sat down and replied to the faceless man that had ruled her life for the past 12 months.
“Im done Sir. Please STOP oh god stop stop please I’m begging please stop this. I can’t do this. I can’t please please stop. I want to get married one day, I dreamed about it, having a family and a career and just being normal. Please dont make me kill myself.”
She waited for his response. Terified he would write the words that would make her end her life but at the same time finding her body on fire with arousal and her hands vigorously playing with herself as she continued to repeat her mantra.
His response appeared 10 minutes later, the fumes of the white spirit combined with the arousal and fear making her light headed.
“This is the end of the road for you Eve. Its been fun, but you have begun to bore me and I’ve moved onto to other pastimes. It would be shame to waste your new talents and attributes though, so I have decided to give you, or more precisely fuckpuppet, to a friend of mine. She happens to have an opening in her brothel. I am afraid its not a very classy establisment, but I dont think Fuckpuppet will mind do you? Now, once you have confirmed your understanding of what you must do, you will delete every email you have ever got from me and all of your responses. Make sure the material that fuckpuppet got from that loser from the morgue last night is in the bed and set fire to it on the way out. Leave your suicide note in your postbox. I doubt the police will bother to look beyond the obvious for a little whore like you. Make your way to the address below, ask for Madam Rita and introduce yourself as a present from me. Once she snaps her fingers you will switch to Fuckpuppet, only there will be no way back. You will spend the rest of your life as a brainless, obedient, hooker. Eve will, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. Good bye Eve.”
She stood in front of Madam Rita, a short and curvy woman with a sharp face. She appraised Eve, smiled evilly and said, “You’ll do.” She raised her hand with her fingers poised. “You have 5 seconds of existance left Eve. What would you like to say?”
She felt that familiar stinging exhaustion in her brain now as she struggled to move, to run.
She fought with everything she had left, knowing that if she let those fingers snap she’d never remember being Eve again. Madam Rita would never let her wake up, she could feel it deep down. “Let me go please. Please I don’t want this. You’re letting him ruin my life, please...
This would be the last conversation she’d ever have, the slow countdown the last words she’d ever consciously hear. If she didn’t fight now, she’d never be able to fight ever again.
“Three,” Madam Rita said, and Eve felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over her but she had to fight, had to—
“Two, and you know that part of you wants this Eve. I’ve seen Fuckpuppet in action. She will love being nothing more than to be my good hypnotized obedient fucktoy...”
“Please just, let me go,” she managed to pant, desperate for just a little bit longer, for one tiny second more of free will before she lost herself forever in obedience, even as her hands moved to play with herself against her concious volition, much to Madam Rita’s amusement.
“One, ready to become my deeply hypnotized, deeply obedient whore forever as you hear my Snap”