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Plain Brown Wrapper

Do not read if under 18 years of age or if offended by

graphic sex or the idea of fantasy mind control. It *is*

fantasy. *Yum.*

(c)2001 by Sara H



----

Plain Brown Wrapper

by Sara H

Categories: FF, F-solo, Mast, MC

----

Jeanine looked at the box for quite awhile before

carefully cutting through the tape. It hadn't been the

easiest thing she'd ever done to get up the courage to call

in the order, and now that it was here, she was shaking

with both anticipation and guilty embarrassment.

It was much larger than she'd expected.

"The Climax Modulator! *The Next Generation in Sexual

Fulfillment!*" the flyer had read, and Jeanine had thought

it incredibly silly. It certainly wasn't a sexy name. But

in the back of her mind, there was a continuing chant of,

*what if,* that finally made her dial the 800 number and

order this "little" toy.

"And it's discreetly shipped?"

"Yes, as the saying goes, 'In a plain brown wrapper with

no distinguishing address,' of course," said the woman who

took the order, giggling.

But that wasn't the end. She was surprised that she had to

give out all kinds of odd measurements, like "hips to

underarms", and "nipple to nipple, horizontally, when

erect". Thankfully, Vicki, the woman who was taking her

order, was able to joke about it enough to keep Jeanine

from hanging up. "Don't worry," she had assured Jeanine.

"Once you see how this feels, you won't have a second

thought about whether it was worth it!"

"You *have* one?" Jeanine asked, not quite believing her

ears.

"Oh, yes. It's changed *everything* for me. I'm a proud

owner of one of the prototypes!" chirped the happy, sing-

songy operator. "By the way, the Modulator is a bit complex

at first, but using it will become second nature after a

few times. But just in case you get lost trying to put it

together, we include a videotape that will help you if you

get too frustrated."

It had seemed kind of silly, and was probably just a pitch

for more gizmos, but Jeanine didn't argue.

And now, she was glad she hadn't. Looking at the multitude

of straps and plugs, as well as the rather large control

box, Jeanine was at least sure that her money had bought

her more than an overgrown vibrator. She recognized certain

parts... a dildo, butt plug, tiny nipple cups, sitting

among a few other things that weren't familiar at all...

and all strung together in a kind of intricate webbing that

seemed much more complicated than necessary. *Well, I

didn't invent the thing,* she thought, sighing.

She had no choice but to get out the owner's manual.

"Congratulations," it said, "on your purchase of the

finest, most passion inducing sexual pleasure unit ever

created, the *Climax Modulator!*" Jeanine blushed as she

read on about the abandon and orgasmic bliss she was bound

to experience, and, "experience soon!"

She shivered again in anticipation. She had enjoyed sex,

but had never *once* known the earth-shattering orgasms her

friends sometimes talked about, their eyes glazing over in

momentary relish.

She'd finally confided in Alice, her best friend at work.

Alice, blushing, had given her the flyer later that day.

"One of our clients," she said. "But it... works. I hope

you don't mind."

"No," Jeanine had said, although it was an awkward moment.

But, it was also good. It was as if they had both made an

unspoken admission... something that brought them even

closer.

And it was something that might take her to new levels of

pleasure.

Jeanine wanted that. And now that it was staring her in

the face, she was going to have it. She deserved it.

Back in the present now, she let her mind wander for a

moment, the image of her own body slick and shiny with

sweat, writhing mindlessly on the floor filling her with a

kind of fascination mixed with helpless dread. On an

impulse, she let her finger wander to her slowly waking

clit, and cooed softly as she felt the familiar pressure of

her own need. She removed her clothes and, carefully

reading the instructions, began to attach the thing to

various points on her body.

----

Three hours and an adventure in frustration later, she

thought she had it right.

It was a good thing she hadn't known where everything went

to begin with. She might never have started. Beyond the

dildo and plug, there were all kinds of oddities she'd

never imagined. From the tiny clip that attached to her

clit and the nipple cups that grabbed her with a little

start of pleasure, to the adhesive pads that attached wires

to the bone just behind her ears, under her arms and behind

her knees, she felt like she was wired up like a monster in

Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory. "It's alive! *Alive*!" she

giggled as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She had to admit though, looking herself over, that it was

sexier than she'd imagined it might be. In fact, it looked

pretty hot. Her blond hair cascaded down over her

shoulders, and somehow, the latex straps and webbing made

her already attractive body look more lithe and alluring.

She posed for herself, letting her hands wander over her

breasts in a moment of private pleasure, and felt her pussy
begin to leak in anticipation.

To deepen the mood, she lit some candles, and turned out

the lights. Over the time she had spent, she had gone from

nervous anticipation, to being ready, to raw craving. She'd

hardly noticed, but there was no doubt about it now, and

she felt a bemused recognition in the change in her

demeanor. She blushed slightly at how much she'd gotten

into the idea, but now, like it or not, here it was.

*No turning back now, girlfriend,* she whispered inwardly.

After carefully checking again where everything went, and

inserting the various plugs into the proper places in the

Control Unit, she finally reached out, and with a last

moment of resolution, turned on the power.

She closed her eyes and waited, her lips twitching

nervously, body trembling.

She tensed as the control unit began to hum and then...

then...

Nothing.

Not one jolt. Not one hint of anything.

*Shit,* she muttered under her breath.

Now, she was pissed. There was no other word for it. She

wanted to quit, but she'd spent too much time, and she was

determined that it wouldn't be a waste. She'd already

neglected to shower or make her nightly call to her mom and

besides, "real life" kinds of things were nothing but a

distraction from what had become her activity for the

evening.

She had no more time for moral dilemmas or rational

thought. She was hot and bothered. *No,* she thought with a

deliciously naughty rush, *I'm* horny. *Nasty.*

And beyond that, she was determined to prove to herself

that she hadn't been ripped off. She stood, walked over to

the cardboard box, pulled out the video and slammed it into

the VCR.

She glowered angrily as the video flickered to life. She

wasn't encouraged as a rather smug man appeared on the

screen and began to talk about how great the "Modulator"

was. As if he had heard her original doubts, it turned out

to be mostly a sales pitch for his personal philosophy and

more expensive, but equally complex gadgets. Jeanine was

about to turn it off when a beautiful model walked in and

took over the instructions.

"Congratulations! Good for you! You made it past the

barrage to the real instructions," said the model. "My

name's Christy, and I'll be showing you how to properly set

up your Modulator.

"Sorry about the aggravation, but the proper use of your

custom Modulator requires a certain... willful

determination. Not only that, but it seems to work better

if you've recently been in an emotionally heightened state.

But if you're here, you've certainly been *there.*"

Christy smiled warmly.

Jeanine smiled and relaxed.

"First, we need to properly calibrate your Modulator. It's

easy to do. You should have a long grey cord among the

cords that you haven't used. Plug it into the "Audio Out"

jack on your VCR and into the "Calibration" jack on the

Control unit. Right now, press pause on your VCR, and come

back when you're done."

It took her a minute to figure it out, but compared to the

rest of the instructions, this was fairly easy. Coming back

to the front of the TV, she pressed "Play" again.

There was a moment of waiting, and then Christy began

talking again. "Now that you've done that, do the following

three things when I tell you to begin. One, put the VCR on

pause again. Two, turn the volume completely down on your

TV. Three, start your VCR again. An audio signal is going

to be sent to the Control unit, and all your tv will put

out is noise. What's going to happen is that the signal

will activate a special mode in the unit and allow it to

calibrate itself. Then, you'll be able to complete the

instructions that will send you into oblivious...

*pleasure*...

"Begin now."

Jeanine paused the VCR, turned down the volume on the TV,

and then, just as instructed, pressed "Play".

*"Please move as little as possible while the calibration

is in progress."*

The voice, barely audible, sounded like it was coming from

the center of her head, right in the middle of her brain,

almost like it was her own thinking. Strange. The skin

behind her ears tickled and she realized that it must have

been coming from the little buds she had attached there.

*Finally, something amazing.*

*Still not sexual, though,* she pouted.

She began to hear a light hum, and listened more closely.

She couldn't tell at first if it was really getting louder,

or if it was her hopeful imagination. It was a high pitch

mixed with something else she couldn't quite make out. She

almost cocked her head but caught herself. She didn't want

to screw this up. Instructions of this complexity were

important, and she knew what failure felt like.

It was definitely louder. Loud enough, in fact, to make

the room look fuzzy with rapid vibration. She didn't

exactly *hear* it though, as much as she *felt* it.

*I love this.*

Had she thought that? Or had it been the "calibration"

voice over the humming? It was so nondescript, and she was

having trouble thinking over the distracting vibrations. It

didn't seem like what she would think, but then again, she

was finding it... enjoyable.

*I love this.*

Yes. Love. Definitely her. She loved it. It was wonderful.

The vibration increased. She could feel it in her neck

now, vibrating her Adam's apple. She opened her mouth and

moved her tongue and lips and the sound came forth. "I love

this."

It was mechanical. Her words. Someone else's voice. Kind

of...

"*Sexy.*"

... sexy. The most delicious thought entered her head. It

was light and strange, vibrating in tune with the

increasing frequencies. She remembered how odd this would

look to anyone walking in. No one would be walking in. She

could let go. Let go. She formed the deliciously silly

thought with her mouth.

"*I obey.*"

The vibrations moved to her shoulders and armpits. If it

wasn't before, it was sexy now. She'd had no idea that her

underarms could be so *sensual*. She closed her eyes and

let the new, tingly, seductive sensation wash through her,

over the back of her scalp and over her face to her lips,

which twitched in response...

"*The Control Unit controls.*"

Her eyes flew open wide as her nipples hardened to steel

with painful speed, the vibrations pouring into her. No,

out of her. She couldn't tell.

It was the Control Unit. *Maybe I should turn it off,* she

thought, barely able to think over the incredible

vibrations, vibrations showing her that...

"*THE CONTROL UNIT CONTROLS.*"

Yes. Controls. Teaching her. Teaching her to be...

"*Sexy. Obedient. Slut.*"

... aroused. As if it was the silliest thing to have

forgotten, she consciously decided to let her thoughts go.

No more analysis. Let the Control Unit talk for her. Talk

through her. Teach her. *Train* her.

"*I obey. The Control Unit controls the sexy. Obedient.

Slut.*"

A low moan escaped her, mixing with the frequencies

cascading out of her open mouth, forming a delicious,

dissonant, lullaby of lust.

Her belly was on fire. Holy, sexy, unquenchable fire. It

had never been so good.

"*Slaves obey. I obey. I am slave. The Control Unit

controls. The slave obeys.*"

The room was hard to see now. She looked more intensely at

the tv screen. Christy was shimmering. Kneeling. Christy

looked just like *her*.

Christy knelt. Jeanine knelt. Christy and Jeanine, bonded

by sisterhood and slavery. One thought. One mind. Obey.

Control. Slave. *Surrender.* She felt herself lose track of

the screen and her own vision, it was all becoming one, one

great, obsessed volcano of molten, golden pleasure. She

looked at Christy looking at her. They were the same thing.

They were one.

"*The slave surrenders.*"

The vibrations stopped. Jeanine shook her head at the

shock of silence, trying to break herself out of her

blissful daze. The room still looked fuzzy... almost like

the walls were breathing in and out and in and out and in

and out... bulging... bowing... and she was helpless to do

anything but open herself more and more to the silence,

aching for the next word, the next touch.

Something was terribly wrong. She tried to lift herself,

but couldn't move. She lifted her arm slowly. Even her

rebellion against the seductive pleasure and tingling only

made her feel it more... and it was so *hard*... and so

*easy* to give in... *to let go...*

"NO!" She was shocked at the sound of he own voice. But

her tingling body betrayed her again, and her lips finished

the phrase with, "... reason to stop..."

She closed her eyes, trying to build up her resolve.

*Calibration complete,* said the now-familiar voice inside

her head. *Commencing primary pleasure and conditioning

cycle.*

Blasted by white light and sound so clear and high that it

was beyond her ability to ignore or escape, Jeanine fell to

the ground, writhing as unseen hands brought her to higher

and higher plateaus of mindless orgasm... again... again...

*again*...

----

The drive to work was simply awful. The morning had

started with a bit of a funk it was already going downhill.

Traffic was slow for no good reason, and Jeanine felt

particularly impatient. When she finally pulled into the

parking garage, she was in even more of a sour mood.

She walked into the lobby of the building at One First

Avenue Plaza and took the elevator to the thirty-second

floor. As the elevator doors opened, she noticed how

depressing the beige walls were. She knew they were

designed to be welcoming and non-intrusive, but they only

made her feel worse.

Everything was making her feel worse.

She set her purse in its usual place behind the reception

desk and took her seat. *My work is a prison. A nightmare,*

she thought blandly. Funny, she'd always liked it, but

today it was as if she were seeing it with open eyes for

the very first time.

Alice and Dee, the office whores, walked by and smiled at

her. She smiled back, barely managing to keep it from

falling into an open sneer. Bitches. Funny she'd never seen

it before. She'd even thought of them as friends.

But now, she could see it all. She was surrounded by

nothing but fuckers and fuckees. Coworkers. Useless maggots.

Then, something broke through her glowering, brooding

musing.

*I'm happy when my pussy is happy,* came a vaguely

familiar thought. *The Control Unit controls.*

She knew that even yesterday the words would never have

crossed her mind, but it felt like she'd thought them a

thousand times. Maybe ten thousand. It was a thought that

made her smile and let go of her troubles.

The phone rang. She answered. "Nipples on fire, how may I

help you?" she asked cheerfully.

"What?" said an incredulous voice on the other end of the

line.

"Bickels-McGuire," she repeated.

"Oh... yes... Mr. McGuire, please."

"May I ask who he's balling?" inquired Jeanine, sweetly.

"Excuse me?"

"May I ask who's calling," repeated Jeanine, starting to

sound very perturbed.

By the time lunch rolled around, she was history.

----

Jeanine nearly dropped the boxes as she came in through

the front door and kicked it shut with her foot. She'd had

no idea how many personal things she'd kept at her office.

Four years was enough time to build up quite a collection,

apparently.

She dropped the load in disgust, and went into her bedroom

to slip into some comfortable clothes. To her dismay,

nothing seemed right. She had no choice but to stay naked.

*Well, what the hell,* she thought. *It's not like I'm

expecting company.*

She went back to the living room and collected her office

things, moving them to the back door for a trip to the

dumpster later. It wasn't like she had anything she wanted

to keep.

Coming back once more, Jeanine looked at the amazing

collection of wires, straps, contacts and plugs and

pondered the Modulator. She hated what it had brought out

in her. She was rebellious, angry, and worst of all, it had

cost her the only job she had ever really enjoyed.

She was surprised at the pulsing throb that started in her

pussy... her *cunt*... when she looked at it.

Shrugging, she went back to her brooding. Sure, it was

just a receptionist position, but she had been given

incredible perks along with very little responsibility. It

was part and parcel of working for one of the most

prestigious international law firms in existence. How could

she have let a sour mood and silly, Freudian slips lose it

all for her in a matter of hours?

Then again, she had expected at least a little loyalty

after four years. The only "loyalty" she got was a promise

of a good reference. *C'est la vie,* she thought, trying to

smile.

She sighed, and picked up the tangle of wired sex, and

took it out to the kitchen and placed it on top of the pile

of things to be discarded.

Better to be done with it, after all. Good riddance.

Back at the sofa, she plopped down and turned on the TV.

Finally letting go of the day, she waited for whatever was

on. The picture was black and there was no sound.

Laughing at herself, she turned up the volume. She'd

completely forgotten about turning it down.

She was greeted by a clear, high hissing sound. Jerking

her eyes down, she saw it. The Control Unit. She'd

forgotten that, too. She also hadn't noticed that the VCR

was still on, or the intricate maze of wires that now ran

between it, the tv and the Control Unit. *What did I do

last night?* she wondered, slightly troubled by her lack of

memory. Damn it.

She stood up and walked across the small room, bending

over to disconnect everything.

Just as she was about to close her fingers around the

metal box, she stopped. The sound from the tv was swirling,

forming something.

"*The Control Unit controls.*"

How odd. She hadn't expected to hear anything but noise.

She listened more intently, just for a second.

"*The Control Unit controls,*" the tv hissed, clear and

hot and bright.

Jeanine shook her head. This wasn't right. She wasn't

plugged into the thing. But she didn't move. Not yet.

"*Calibration confirmed. Commencing bi-directional

inductive communication.*"

Jeanine felt something "*other*" tug at her muscles. More

curious than scared, she relaxed and let herself be guided.

She stood straight up and waited, her eyes wide and rapidly

dilating.

"*Transmit primary operating protocol.*"

Jeanine shuddered. Completely by reflex, she felt her

thoughts form into words, and move her lungs, throat,

tongue and lips.

"The Control Unit controls. The slave obeys," said

Jeanine. She knew it wasn't right. She knew she was acting

insane. Those thoughts were not relevant. The Control Unit

controlled. She felt the "other" grow inside her mind. No,

the other was *her*. It was her silly, independent thought

that was alien.

*Yes.*

"Slave. Retrieve Modulator and re-attach for direct

connection and final programming."

Jeanine walked back to the kitchen and looked at the

Modulator atop the huge pile of trash. Curious. She

couldn't quite remember why it was there. It didn't matter.

The Control Unit controlled.

She pulled it out and wired herself into the Modulator

without a moment's hesitation. It was child's play.

A long, involuntary moan escaped her lips as the nestled

the dildo and butt plug in her... her...

*Receptacles,* she answered herself. Yes. Receptacles.

She walked back into the living room and plugged herself

into the Control Unit.

She was allowed brief satisfaction. "*Mmmm,*" she slurped,

feeling the familiar vibrations course through her body

again. She had forgotten how fucking *good* it was.

*"I live for this,*" her vibrating throat said.

"*Upload personality for modification via Control Unit,*"

she heard her hissing, vibrating voice command.

She did not know how long she did not think.

----

*"Download complete."*

Jeanie groaned and opened her eyes. She looked at her

living room. It looked the same, but a little less...

right. It needed something. Maybe some new artwork, some

different colors... something more conducive to... pleasure.

She slowly removed the Modulator from her body with a

twinge of aching regret that disappeared as quickly as it

had come.

She stood and went to the bathroom. She looked in the

mirror and gasped. Her hair was sticking out crazily, and

her face was a mess. Her body was grimy with dried sweat

and sexual ooze... she'd never seen herself in this kind of

condition. It was a little scary.

It was *hot*.

*It isn't the way I look now that is so fucking hot,* she

thought. *It's how I got here.*

She jumped into the shower, cleansing away the filth and

grime, and savored the delicate touch of the water flowing

down her body. Her fingers found her nipples and pulled. A

bolt of pleasure shot to her clit and exploded in her

brain. *God,* she gasped silently. *No. Goddess.*

*Goddess.*

She felt the orgasm sweep through her, washing away what

little was left of any reservations she had. It was just

too good to stop. Her fingers began dancing, faster and

faster on her opening cuntlips, the water flying and

squishing in time with her urgent finger-fucking. She cried

out as another climax washed over her, obliterating the

first, understanding that her... *obedience*... had done

this for her. To her. Made her a slut. Made her a hot

little fuck-me *slave.*

Her body cooled as the hot water ran out, waking her from

her reverie. How many times had she cum? It didn't matter.

*Obedience matters,* she thought.

She smiled. She loved this.

The phone was ringing.

She toweled herself off as she answered. "Hello," she

said, breathily. *Mmmmm was that sexy or* what*?*

"Jeanine?" It was Alice, from work.

"Jeanie, now. Hi, Alice," she answered. She hadn't thought

anyone would call, much less Alice. Well, Alice had been

her friend up until today. It made sense.

"Very *good* Jeanie. *The Control Unit controls,*" said

Alice.

"*The slave obeys,*" answered Jeanie, her eyes suddenly

wide and sightless. "Awaiting input."

"Alice Shantees is your Control Unit. Redirect all

protocols."

"Processing... processing... processing complete."

"Transmit primary protocol."

"Alice Shantees controls. Jeanie Breathitt, the sexy,

obedient slut obeys. She lives for this. She loves this."

"Perfect, Jeanie. Accept secondary protocols, now."

"Ready for input."

"Ownership Protocol One. Jeanie loves her Control Unit and

addresses her as Mistress or Mistress Alice at all times,

public or private. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Ownership Protocol Two. Mistress Alice's pleasure and

praise bring Jeanie incredible pleasure and joy. Mistress

Alice's anger and displeasure bring Jeanie pain, and an

increased desire to serve Mistress more completely. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Dildo Protocol. Jeanie Breathitt loves her Mistress's

strap-on dildo, and constantly desires to be fucked by it

in any orifice, to suck on it, to do anything no matter how

degrading or humiliating, to please Mistress Alice. This

desire and arousal is constant, but only acted upon when

Mistress Alice allows Jeanie to manifest this desire.

Accept."

"Accepted."

"Fetish Protocol One. Jeanie Breathitt has a foot fetish,

but only for Mistress Alice's feet. She loves her

Mistress's feet and giving Mistress Alice a pedicure and

tongue bath. She loves Mistress's dark green toenail

polish, or any color Mistress decides upon. When Jeanie

massages Mistress Alice's feet, she feels it in her clit,

with all-consuming pleasure. This desire follows the same

parameters as the Dildo Protocol. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Self Address Protocol. Jeanie Breathitt refers to herself

as slut in private, as slave among Mistress Alice's

friends, and as Jeanie in public. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Fetish Protocol Two. slut quietly worships Mistress Alice

at all times. This is demonstrated as she wears varying

amounts of latex clothing in private, and leather in

public. Her shoes, sandals and boots are always sexy and

have heels whenever possible, and according to current

fashion. The amount of public clothing is solely at the

discretion of Mistress Alice. In private she wears a

leather collar and in public, a gold chain, as a permanent

sign of her status, as well as that of Mistress Alice.

Accept."

"Accepted."

"Permanence Protocol. These and any future protocols are

permanent unless otherwise directed by Mistress Alice, or

in the event of Her death, after which the slave will

create a personal, private shrine in Mistress Alice's

honor. Accept."

"Accepted."

"Merge and acknowledge, and return to non-programming mode."

"Merged."

"Well?" asked Alice expectantly.

"Mistress, slut is hoping You will be here soon!" answered

Alice.

"Ooo, such a *good* little slut," cooed Alice.

"Thank You, Mistress," breathed Jeanie, overcome with

pleasure and joy.

"I might even allow you to be fucked up the ass by my big,

black dildo," teased Mistress Alice. She laughed as she her

heard her slave moan loudly.

"Slave, this is going to be... beyond your imagination. I

am pleased."

As her Mistress hung up, slut fell to the floor, her long

since dried body contorting into twisting lustflesh as the

Orgasm of Mistress Alice raced through her, smashing and

disintegrating her inhibitions. Her wide open eyes saw only

*Mistress... Mistress... Mistress...* as her drool puddled

softly on the carpet... and she came again, knowing how

please Mistress would be at her wanton display...

She dreamed of strap-ons, latex, and the feet of Mistress

Alice.

----

"*Alice Shantees, line two,*" the overhead page announced.

The new girl was short and petite, but no less beautiful,

in her own way, than Jeanine had been. Of course, Alice had

managed to get her hired. She allowed herself a brief smile

at the thought of Jeanie, her new slut, as she answered the

phone.

"Alice Shantees," she said.

"And did it work as advertised?" asked the male voice on

the other end of the phone.

"Oh, hello William... er... Mr. Sommers. Yes, quite well.

Amazing, in fact."

"Very good, Ms. Shantees. I'll expect the next installment

deposited by the end of the week. All fifty thousand."

"And worth every penny."

"Oh, and Alice..."

"Yes?"

"Recruitment Protocol One. Now."

"Yes, Master," answered Alice, before she hung up the phone.

Once her orgasm had subsided, she straightened her hair

and walked out to the reception desk. Smiling at the new

employee, she said, "Pam, how abouts we have lunch today? I

can put it down as an expense."

"Sure, Ms. Shantees!" bubbled the new girl.

"Call me Alice. We'll go at eleven. Miss the crowds."

"Great! Thank you!"

"No problem. Always glad to welcome a new team member to

the fold!"

Walking away, she heard Pam call out, "Ms. Shant -ah-

Alice, you left a piece of paper here!"

"Oh, keep it. Look it over if you want. I've got plenty of

others...."

*Hmm,* thought Pam, her brow furrowing as she looked over

the flyer. *Kinky. I wonder if something this good could

possibly come in a plain brown wrapper...*





----

Please send any comments or feedback to

sara_h2020@yahoo.com. Please mention the name of the story
in the subject line. Thanks for reading!*

- Sara