Stainless steel walls surround you. The ceiling one continues light panel, the floors that same stainless steel, specs of blood dried in, unsure if it's yours or the many previous Hounds.
You are restrained to a metal chair tightly, no room to wiggle, head pulled tightly to the headrest. There's a sea of wires and electrodes connected to your bare skin, the only thing that resembles clothing is that muzzle strapped tightly.
You've been in there for what seems like weeks. Pumped full of stimulants to keep you awake until they decide its time for you to rest and they push sedatives into that IV line connected to your neck.
Your every body function is controlled, when your body needs to use the bathroom you are drugged with some sort of twilight sedation and come too back in that same position.
The same routine to the minute.
That screen comes down, cameras hang off of it scanning your face and comparing to the brain activity those sensors pickup.
Pictures flash, family, friends, rebel propaganda, images of you before, mixed in seem to be an Increasing amount of images that contrast them all. Empire truths, words that flash too quick for you to read, and then the pictures of Her.
Accompanying the pictures is a Sheppard tone with whispers always playing, like the words on the screen you can't make them out, but they seem to pierce so deeply.
As every imagine from your old life comes up, the machine reads your brain and facial expressions, any detected response conscious or not is met with intense shocks that cover your body, the worst of them are the ones that pierce your brain. The shocks however aren't the worst part, with the shocks comes a red fluid from the IV that makes your entire body burn and causes your brain to have intense deep feelings of shame and distress.
Those shocks and that drug last only a minute before they fade. After a hour of that, tears running down your breasts pooling at your feet a image of Her comes into view and instantly a gentle tingling pleasurable shock runs through your crotch, breasts, the back of your neck, and brain. A separate IV line injects that green Liquid Starlight, a strong healthy dose and everything goes cool and the screen starts to glow, Her face piercing your brain as the Liquid Starlight massages your brain.
Your tongue hanging out of your slack jaw behind the muzzle drooling, tail wagging as your reality bends. None of what happened previously matters, only Her, only Goddess, only Handler.
The screen starts to lift, your eyes close momentarily to adjust and when they open your greeted by Her, standing there staring down at you.
"Time for phase two Hound"
Her lips move and the words that come out give you a near auditory orgasm, you feel the Liquid Starlight IV start to inject more, seeing that bag empty.. That bag that normally lasts days all pumped into your body in the span of one session.
Everything starts to spin as your eyes de-focus on reality causing your vision to duplicate Her, auditory hallucinations join the visuals as every sound seems to echo in your mind, like a tool digging into the grey matter carving out the bad, the past, you. And replacing it with Her will, Her words, Her.
Her words echo endlessly in your fucked brain, you can't tell if she keeps saying them or if it's all a hallucination, but you don't care, you just want more. Good Dogs Get More.
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
titsay
prguitarman
