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Rochelle03 Harmonic Conversion
*This owes a debt of gratitude to a few of authors, not
the least of whom are trilby else and Tabico; trilby for his
keen insights as the progressed, and Tabico, for her
ingenious devices... thank you both very, very much.
- Sara
"If you are younger than eighteen years
Or sex is for your neighborhood peers
If you are aghast at frank, sexual sleaze
Take your eyes elsewhere - immediately please."
Please ask permission before posting this elsewhere.
(c)2000 by Sara H*
----
Harmonic Conversion
by Sara H
Categories: (FF, FD, MC)
----
I. Prelude - *Andante*
Cheryl was finishing up the last sample of the day, running a
resonance test on a new titanium alloy. It was boring work.
Most nights, and tonight was no exception, she watched while
the computers did the real work, finding the harmonic resonance
of various shapes and sizes of different materials.
She was watching the shopping networks when she was startled by
a tentative knock at the door. Frowning slightly, she peered
over at the security monitor at the far end of the lab, and saw
that it was Keith, the IPS driver who brought her regular
deliveries. She quickly relaxed. Deliveries at nine o'clock were
unusual, but not unheard of.
She opened the door, smiled, and said, "Forget one this
morning, Keith?"
"Yes ma'am; I found it when I got back to the depot. It was so
small it must have gotten lost in the truck behind some bigger
packages."
"Well, don't worry... you've just extended my workday by a
couple of hours," she grimaced with mock anger. The truth was
that she didn't mind staying... she liked her job very much, and
a few more hours wouldn't make a difference, anyway.
She signed the clipboard, and set the small box on a cart that
was sitting nearby. "Now, be a good Keith, and go *home*,"
she joked, closing the door.
Returning to the shrill whine of the resonating titanium, she
turned up the a little to try and drown it out.
----
As Keith drove back to the IPS depot, his cell phone rang.
"Hello?" he said as he held the phone to his ear, puzzled at who
would be calling.
"Hello, *Rubberhead*," said the female voice on the other end
of the line.
Keith's face went blank as he responded, "Your slut obeys,
Mistress."
"Did you deliver the package I gave you, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Did you use the fake signature sheet?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good boy. Destroy it. You never delivered the package. You
pulled over for a moment and fell asleep, and no one must ever
find out. Do you understand, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good. I never called. There was no one on the phone.
*Obedience is pleasure.*"
Disgusted at the silent caller, Keith disconnected the call,
and then dismissed it as he thought about getting back to the
docks. *Jesus, it's a good thing I'm not the only driver coming
in late...* Tearing off the top signature sheet, he tore it into
confetti and threw it out the window a little at a time, over
the next two miles. Then, yawning, he dialed his wife.
"Hi Barbara... no, just a late night... I'll be home in about
forty-five minutes... okay, love you too, sweetheart... yes, of
course I would love for you to fuck me in the ass tonight...
Hmm? After I lick your boots? Certainly, my Queen... you, too...
kisses."
Keith smiled happily to himself. *God, it's so nice to have a
normal marriage. So many people these days think a should...
fuck his wife,* he thought, as he shivered in revulsion and
clenched his asshole in anticipatory pleasure.
*Whatever happened to traditional values?*
----
II. Allemande - *Allegro*
Cheryl turned off the powerful transonic resonators and put the
titanium back in the sample drawer. So far it had proven to be
the most impervious to vibration, and with a little luck, the
folks at Randeyer Aviation would be *very* happy with the
results.
Turning to the new package, she opened it. Despite her
professional persona, she still had a childlike sense of
curiosity. She had been wondering what it was since it arrived.
It turned out to be a two-inch long sliver of amber. She wasn't
sure why she would be given something so insubstantial to test,
but hers was not to question why, hers was just to... well, load
the resonance chamber and start the computer. *I'll be glad when
this phase is over and I get to do some real work again,* she
thought, mildly frustrated.
Once she had set it up, she turned on the high intensity
lights. She looked a little more intently at it and was startled
to see that it had taken on a weird sort of "glow", as if the
air was foggy around it. Dismissing it as lack of sleep, she
turned back to the computer and started the routine.
Then, it was, for better or worse, back to the shopping channels.
Cheryl turned up the volume on the a little more. The whine
from the resonance chamber was much louder this time, and sort
of thin sounding. Odd. She listened more closely as the machine
calibrated itself to the natural resonance of the amber. It was
as if the vibrations hit right against her skin... and then
eased deeper into her. She felt alarmed, but thought better of
getting up to check. There was nothing she could do, short of a
risky program abortion, until the computers shut down.
Then, she noticed that the was looking strange, too. The
people showing jewelry on the screen were getting wavy. No, not
wavy... putting off colored waves that matched the keening
amber. She realized through increasingly muddled thoughts that
something was terribly wrong and stood to abort the program.
It took a dazed moment to realize that she was continuing to
sit perfectly still.
Fear gripped her as she found that she couldn't budge, that her
brain was not moving her muscles. She *felt* the sound inside
her skull, wrapping around the crevices of her mind. Pulling
tighter. As the sound filled every empty nook and cranny, she
fought the waves as they invaded her thoughts and began to pulse.
*Ihavetohurryand....... getuptoturnoff.......
shutdownthetestbeforeI....... losethewhateverit.......
thinkthinkthink........graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.........*
As her brain fell into line with the high pitched monotone of
the vibrating amber, her eyes grew wide and stared blankly,
almost as if they were unable to see. Cheryl looked raptly at
the screen.
Occasionally a convulsive jerk passed quickly through her
otherwise motionless body. Inside her mind, there was no
thought, no motion at all.
----
*"...order NOW!!!"*
Cheryl, her face slack, eyes glued to the TV, picked up the
phone and ordered her fourth pair of ruby earrings. Robotically
she recited her name, address, credit card number, and the offer
number. Hanging up the phone, her attention returned to the
screen.
*"These ruby earrings are some of the most beautiful I've seen,
Brian, and you know... rubies are classic gemstones..."*
Cheryl knew that they were the most beautiful earrings she had
ever seen.
*"That's right, Betsy, and this has to be one of the best
values we've ever had here at Domestic Shoppers Club... I just
have to encourage our viewers to call in now and buy a pair--
there are only eighty left, and they are going fast!"*
*"You know, Brian, that I've bought four pairs myself! I'm
giving them to everyone on my Christmas list this year!"*
*"Hahaha! I think our viewers should buy a pair for everyone
they know! We're down to seventy pairs of earrings remaining,
and at only 250 dollars a set for this once-in-a-lifetime
bargain that will never be repeated! Order NOW!!!!!"*
Cheryl ordered all seventy.
And then, motionless again, Cheryl eagerly waited for her next
command. And her next command... and her next...
Cheryl did not notice the female form that quietly slipped into
the lab and watched her focused display with playful intensity,
whispering words to her in between the television's relentless
assault.
Finally, the room was silent, except for the sound of the
television still playing. Cheryl, still feeling dazed, looked at
the clock. Two A.M.! She tried to collect her thoughts, but they
were still buzzing with the sound of the resonating sliver of
golden power. She tried to grasp what had happened, but the
details were slipping away like the clouds of dreams in sunshine.
She remembered that she had ordered over 12,000 dollars worth
of jewelry... but she didn't feel any remorse at all. It was
what she was supposed to do, after all. It was such a bargain
that no one in her right mind would pass up this amazing one-
time opportunity to own such a beautiful collection of precious
gemstones, offered at near manufacturer's cost, and only to her,
a Domestic Shoppers Club Member, for a limited time.
When these were gone, there would be no more. She felt the grim
conviction in her thoughts at the remembered warning.
She had done very, very well.
----
III. Sarabande - *Adagio Misterioso*
She looked over and was alarmed to see a strange woman standing
at the computer. Then it came to her through the fogginess of
her thoughts that it was only her associate, Rochelle, who was
in the process of removing a pair of earplugs. *So silly of me
not to recognize my... my...* Cheryl struggled. *...longtime
friend and co-worker,* came the strangely formal recognition,
slowly bubbling to the surface.
Rochelle turned around and smiled. Cheryl immediately felt
foolish for her moment of disorientation. "Jeez, Rochelle, I
thought you were a burglar or something!" she laughed, letting
her discomfort float away.
"Wow, you must have really been out of it," said Rochelle,
concern showing on her face. "You weren't really asleep, but you
sure seemed zoned. How come?"
"Something happened with the resonance test on that piece of
amber... not sure what. I was worried for a minute, but then I
sort of got involved in the TV." Cheryl got a distant look in
her eye for a brief moment, and then continued. "Actually, it
was kind of nice... I haven't felt so well rested in months."
"Weird. Well, I'm going out to grab a snack... I brought you a
video to watch, though. It's really good... I know it's boring
just sitting watching computers cogitate."
"You can say that again, girlfriend! But I guess that means you
think I should run the test over, huh?" queried Cheryl.
"Yeah, better safe than sorry. Tell you what-- maybe I should
burn the resonance wav file on a CD, in case something strange
is really happening." With a nod of agreement from Cheryl, she
added, "Want anything from the diner?"
Cheryl sat for a moment. Something was gnawing at the back of
her thoughts; something that was out of place. She shook her
head, dismissing it. *I guess I really* was *out of it...*
"No, I'll get some breakfast or something when this is done,"
she said, finally.
Rochelle loaded the videotape while Cheryl set up the sample
for testing and started the resonance program. "Later, dudette,"
quipped Rochelle, as she opened the door to leave.
Sitting back down, Cheryl called, "Later, Rochelle!" as she
settled in to watch whatever Rochelle had brought her. *Lucky to
have a friend like... like Rochelle,* she reflected, as the
familiar whine of the resonators came up to pitch.
----
IV. Gavotte - *Allegretto*
Cheryl felt herself rising from the depths. She glanced at the
clock... 7 A.M. She stumbled to her feet, nearly falling over.
"I've got to start getting more sleep," she mumbled quietly.
Thankfully, the daytime staff had not arrived yet. She put away
the television, pulled the tape out of the VCR, set it aside,
and walked over to the resonating equipment. She was surprised
to see a small piece of material, possibly amber, resting in the
supporting arms of the resonance chamber.
With a puzzled look on her face, she carefully lifted the
sample out of the complex contraption and placed it in beside
the tape. She felt a twinge of guilt at her slight theft, but
this lab was no place for unauthorized testing. She wondered how
on earth it had been placed there.
*I wonder if it's some 'outside' project Rochelle is working
on?* she mused. Checking the computers, she found the test logs
for the dark yellow-gold resin, and decided to erase them.
Testing of contraband was expressly prohibited, and it had been
performed on her "watch".
Walking over to the secondary computer, she noticed that the CD-
R drive was open with a disc sitting in the tray. *That's odd...
maybe Rochelle left it last night,* she thought, gaining more
evidence for the idea that Rochelle had been tinkering with the
sensitive equipment. She picked up the disc and placed it, along
with the other items, in the large bag she used as a purse.
Cheryl froze as she suddenly had a nebulous thought about the
general "wrongness" of the situation... more than just
Rochelle's possible carelessness. Why had she even come in last
night? Who comes to work when they don't have to? Her unease
began to rip through her like a scythe, scaring her, showing her
inconsistencies in her memories that she could not help but see.
Just as she was on the brink of discovery, the voice of her own
mind blasted out, *ROCHELLE IS MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE
WORLD. I WOULD NEVER BETRAY HER.* Cheryl cringed in near-pain,
and then calmed, the thoughts of confusion already forgotten,
along with the fear that brought them forth. Her head cocked
slightly at an angle for a few long moments... followed by her
continued efforts to tidy up the lab.
She was now swiftly coming to the conclusion that Rochelle had
definitely done some "personal" work. It was too bad Cheryl had
been sleeping... had she remained awake, she might have saved
herself the embarrassment of having to confront Rochelle about
her lapse in judgement. She felt like she should protect her
longtime friend, but she was *definitely* going to have to have
a talk with her.
*Definitely.*
She finally locked up and headed to her car. Still feeling the
humiliation of having fallen asleep the night before, she turned
the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.
She was driving home by rote, not thinking of anything in
particular, when she realized she had gone the wrong direction.
*Shit, I hate when this happens,* she thought, chiding herself.
She pulled off at the next exit, planning to turn around and go
back along the route she had just driven. But when she got to
the bottom of the ramp, she couldn't remember which way to turn
to get to the opposite ramp. Frustrated, she turned right,
thinking she would find a gas station or convenience store where
she could ask directions.
She drove three miles down the pleasant, tree-lined boulevard,
and she started to smile. This was so nice. So peaceful. She had
not enjoyed driving like this in years. By the time she snapped
out of her reverie, she had passed three gas stations.
Cursing again, she made a left turn onto the next side street.
Unfortunately, she couldn't find a place to turn the car around.
All she saw were driveways and cross streets, and they were
totally useless for the complicated task. She needed somewhere
she could pull in and back out and head in the opposite
direction. *Damn it!* she cursed inwardly, becoming totally
enraged.
Finally, she saw a street that would work. She turned right,
and quickly brought the car to a stop. But when she tried to
move the shift lever into reverse, it would not move past
neutral. She pushed, hit and jammed the lever, but to her
increasing dismay, it was totally immobile. She wondered how
much *this* was going to cost her. And damn it all, she still
wasn't headed home...
She put the car back in drive and, continuing down the street,
finally saw a cute little tan brick bungalow with green shutters
and a steep enough driveway so that she could coast back out and
turn the car around. *Just the sort of house I was hoping for,*
she thought absently. Pulling in, she had the inspired thought
that she should just ask for directions *here.* It made sense,
and besides, she didn't know what other problems she might face
in a parking lot with no way to back up.
She walked up to the front door and rang the bell. She was not
prepared at all for what she saw. She reeled backward in a swell
of absurd coincidence as the door was answered.
It was Rochelle. "Took you long enough," she said, eyes
twinkling.
Cheryl smiled back, despite her shock. What were the chances?
On the other hand, at least it wasn't some strange person who
was upset at her early morning intrusion. And what was with the
comment? Was it a joke, or was Rochelle really expecting her?
"Well, don't just stand there, Cheryl, come in!"
Putting aside her surprise, Cheryl entered the house.
----
V. Gigue - *Allegro Vivace*
Rochelle's house was nicely furnished; very casual, with lots
of lounging pillows in the living room, and an odd device that
looked like some sort of workout machine. Accepting Rochelle's
offer of a cup of coffee, she sat down.
"So, how did the late night tests go?" asked Rochelle, as she
headed back into the room.
"Fine, I guess. I zoned out, though. Overnights are very hard,"
Cheryl said. "Which reminds me, I think these are yours," she
remarked as she handed Rochelle the items she had retrieved from
the lab. "And I hate to say it, but you know how corporate feels
about unauthorized use of equipment."
"Oh, I didn't actually run anything but simulations. I just had
the CD there to listen to. One of those motivational things. You
were zonked when I got back from the diner, so I didn't disturb
you," Rochelle explained. "It's a CD I use for my workouts."
"I was wondering about that machine... but it doesn't look
typical, even for exercise."
"It's sort of my own invention... I plan to market it as soon
as I get the investment capital. You wouldn't like to try it,
would you?"
"Well, I really need to get home and get to bed. Tonight's
another long night, you know," replied Cheryl, stifling a yawn.
"Oh, come on. At least sit on it, and tell me how it feels... I
mean, you've never been over to visit in five years, and I don't
want to wait another five to get your opinion!" said Rochelle,
cajoling her friend.
Cheryl felt impatient, but didn't want to be impolite, so she
sat on the strange machine. She found it was no mean feat to
figure out how to get the saddle out of her crotch, and she
stayed busy with it as Rochelle slipped the CD into a portable
player nearby.
It was an odd setup... the saddle actually came up in a sharp
curve, and then flattened across her belly, and in order to
reach the handgrips, she had to flatten herself against it. As
she reached forward, however, she found that it was surprisingly
comfortable.
"So how do I work this, exactly?" asked Cheryl, unable to
figure it out.
"It sort of works on an isometric principle," answered
Rochelle. "It's really simple. You just put on the headphones
and listen to the instructions, and as they tell you how to move
your body, you work against the machine. It has to do with how
you sit on it... it allows you to work your major muscle groups
without the machine having any moving parts. In fact, it's more
of an exercise chair... the term machine doesn't quite fit, in a
way."
Cheryl, a little intrigued now, put on the headphones.
"Now, just sit tight and I'll show you exactly how this works,"
enthused Rochelle, as she pressed the "Play" button.
Cheryl grimaced slightly as a whining hum, not unlike that of
the samples in the resonance chamber in the lab, filled her
ears. Different, though; sort of thin sounding. Odd. She
listened more closely to see if it was background noise or an
actual part of the CD program but couldn't tell. It was as if
the vibrations hit right against her skin... and then eased
deeper into her. She felt alarmed, but thought better of
mentioning anything. There was nothing she could do, short of
offending Rochelle, until the CD was finished.
Then, she noticed that Rochelle was looking strange, too. As
she stood in front of Cheryl, smiling, her friend was looking...
wavy.
No, not wavy... putting off colored waves that matched the
keening whine of the CD. She realized through increasingly
muddled thoughts that something was terribly wrong and tried to
remove the headphones.
It took a dazed moment to realize that she was continuing to
sit perfectly still.
Fear gripped her as she found that she couldn't budge, that her
brain was not moving her muscles. She *felt* the sound inside
her skull, wrapping around the crevices of her mind. Pulling
tighter. As the sound filled every empty nook and cranny, she
fought the waves as they invaded her thoughts and began to pulse.
*Ihavetohurryand....... getoffthephones.......
stopthisbeforeI....... losemywhateverit....... think.....
think........ graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.........*
As her brain fell into line with the high pitched monotone of
the vibrating headphones, her eyes grew wide and stared blankly,
almost as if they were unable to see. Cheryl looked raptly at
Rochelle, whose smile had taken on a look of dark triumph.
By the time Rochelle spoke, Cheryl could only accept the words
as they wrote themselves on the blank slate of her mind: "It's
been nice playing with your thoughts, lovely girl, and you've
managed to prove to me that I can take you where I want you to
be... where you belong... now, we begin in earnest."
A convulsive jerk passed quickly through her otherwise
motionless body. Inside her mind, there was no thought, no
motion at all.
----
VI. Finale - *Scherzo Fortissimo*
*"... obey NOW!!!"*
Cheryl, her face slack, eyes glued to Mistress Rochelle, felt
the waves of ecstasy course out of the Saddle of Obedience and
into her body. Dutifully she recited her name, her purpose, her
destiny and her obsession since birth. Enthusiastically orating,
her eyes, dilated and slightly wet, never left the feminine
center of the universe standing before her. As she finished
speaking, her mind opened once more to the words and whine that
filled her existence.
*"...being a slave is the most fulfilling thing in your life,
and Mistress Rochelle is the most beautiful Owner you've ever
seen or known... and you know... serving Mistress Rochelle is
the highest purpose anyone could know..."*
Cheryl knew that that Mistress was the most worthy and
beautiful Owner she had ever seen or known. Her slave-cunt
tingled with the constant arousal of her subjugation.
*"That's right, pleasing Mistress Rochelle is the most arousing
and erotic thing you do, and it's completely addictive. You only
crave more addiction and pleasure, to be a puppet, a toy, an
obedient, sapphic fuckslut for Mistress' use however she sees
fit... your own thoughts are idiotic, while Mistress Rochelle's
are the paragon of enlightenment... Having been owned by her all
your life, there is no greater honor than bringing your friends,
straight and gay, to Mistress for proper orientation... You
always encourage them to buy a Mind and Body Transformation
Chair... demonstrating it if they will not buy one... and you
will do it quickly and without hesitation so that Mistress
Rochelle will be pleased by slavecheryl..."*
Rochelle smiled at the stark contrast of slavecheryl's tensed,
immobile body and drooling mouth, set against the maniacally
intense purpose shining in her eyes as the slave's past and
future were dictated within her own pliant mind.
Slavecheryl began to buck and moan with increasing ferocity as
the resonance guided every word into her pleasure and motivation
centers.
*Permanently.*
*"There is nothing that does or can give you more pleasure than
obeying Mistress Rochelle, both sexually and otherwise, and
adding to her stable of slaves. First, your closest and
friends must be brought under her control... it is your destiny
to bring her new slaves, as it is their destiny to be owned..."*
*"Hahaha! You think Mistress should convert everyone you know!
They must know the wisdom and perfection of this once-in-a-
lifetime opportunity for happiness that cannot be gained in any
other way! Obey NOW!!!!!"*
Had she even been able, slavecheryl would not have had a second
thought. As it was, she only had the first thoughts she was
given.
Her life as a lab technician faded before the glory of her
lifelong Purpose. How could she have been so deluded? So
*misguided*?
With every moment of greater acceptance slavecheryl's pleasure
increased tenfold, aided by the vibrations of the saddle in
which she sat, her mind and body succumbing completely to every
thought and sensation that Rochelle commanded. The heat in her
overloaded clit and was searing her psyche, redoubling her
desire as every barrier crumbled and blew away on the hot winds
of obedience.
She felt her orgasm coming, beginning with the sparkling waves
in her clit and belly, spreading to her now clenching asshole...
creeping up and down her body, spreading in slow motion, as deep
as it was powerful. A word came to her through the sea of wanton
lust, as sex-pleasure soaked into every nerve ending, making her
a clitoral ocean, a clit-woman, a mindless being of pure,
unending, eternal orgasm...
*"Transform. Transform, slavecheryl... you are Mine..."*
Slavecheryl screamed in horrified ecstasy, the combined power
of losing her past and gaining her destiny creating unbearable
pleasure... melded forever into one newly obsessed and twisted
mind... and then, motionless again, slavecheryl eagerly waited
for her next command. And her next command... and her next...
**********************************
Opening her eyes, slavecheryl smiled as she saw Mistress before
her. Falling to her knees in worshipful reverence, savoring the
pleasure of compliant surrender, she did not speak but waited
for her Mistress' command.
She remembered her life in the lab, her unfulfilled existence,
and the revelation she had just been given... and she didn't
feel any remorse at all. It was what she was supposed to do,
after all. It was so obvious; no one in her right mind would
pass up the incredible honor to serve such a beautiful, worthy
Mistress and Owner, for the rest of her life.
Her life was gone, and would never return. She felt the
weight of conviction as she let old, painful memories slip out
of existence.
She smiled softly.
She had done very, *very* well.
*Fine*
----
*Please send any comments or feedback to cats_sara@yahoo.com.
In the subject line, please include the name of the about
which you are commenting. Thanks for taking the time to read
this story.
- Sara*