as expected - the project

[lj]

"We need to get Linda into a short day-cycle to give the impression of a very long stay in the oubliette in as short a time as possible. That concrete floor is not very comfortable and we don't want sores to develop. Punishment is one thing, but hospitalisation is another. Is the sound system suitable for the subliminal training?"

"Oh, yes" said Mistress Alice. "I've been working on some new instruction sequences to reinforce good behaviour, and following this second escape attempt I'll add some reinforcement that Linda should not try again"

"I've been working on a little idea of mine" said Mistress Claire. "It might help add to the disorientation by, shall we say, adding a bit of additional discomfort. I just need to make up a pair of stocks with a difference"

Meanwhile, in the darkness, L shuffled slightly, trying to improve the very low level of comfort in the dark chamber. As it was totally dark, he had lost the feeling of claustrophobia, no longer able to gauge the limited confines surrounding him, and lapsed into a doze. He became aware of a light, minutes, hours later, and came awake just in time to see the small light by his head go out. He remembered he had been told the lights would come on to give him an opportunity to drink either water or liquid food. He had just missed the opportunity. He wondered how he was going to cope. Staying awake all the time was clearly not possible. Then the other light came on. He had fogfotten if this was the water or food dispenser. It was disgusting. Food was a bad, even totally incorrect, description. A sickly-sweet gloop, vaguely reminiscent of chocolate. But it would become a necessity if he was to survive. He sucked on the phallus until the light went out and the supply was shut off silently.

Time passed. For L, very slowly. The chamber had only the slight comfort that there was a panel of wood where L's head rested, so at least that part of him was on a smooth and slightly more comfortable surface. Suddenly, everything became very wet. The sprinklers turned on, drenching L, the water rising and then subsiding as it drained away. He gulped at as much water as he could as it drained past him. Shortly after, the other light came on. This time, L drank quickly, taking in as much as he could before the light went out and the water stopped coming.

The sequence of lights and water pouring down repeated exactly. L tried counting seconds, then minutes, then hours, to try to determine the interval, but his concentyration always lapsed, and anyway he often slept through the lights. Never the water, though. The constant wash-down did at least clear his waste, though with his bottom resting on the uncomfortable barred opening, the journey was thankfully short and little contamination travelled far. On the other hand, the chamber was constantly damp, although L noticed he was not excessively cold. Some heating must be provided, or he would surely have died of hypothermia by now. But how long is now from when he was first locked in.

He had been through twenty three cycles of food, water and wash. He no longer knew how long he had been there.Weeks? Actually, it was three days.

Light flooded into the chamber. The panel by his feet had been removed, and hands were unlocking the ankle cuffs. He was coming out? Free again?

The light level dimmed a little and his feet were lifted, then dropped back into what felt like two cups. The the light went out completely as something else was dropped into place. The sound of an electric screwdriver and some vibration at his ankles suggested he was being secured again. What he could not see was that Mistress Claire had fastened his ankles into wooden stocks which slotted into the sides of the chamber. Next he felt something wrap around the big toe on his left foot, another short vibration, and he could no longer move his foot, the big toe now restrained against the stocks. The right toe was similarly fixed. L suddenly felt absurdly vulnerable. He could not see what was happening outside the chamber, his feet were immobile and exposed. Nothing else happened. Perhaps that was worse than some awful torture.

Another three cycles. Just as the water drained away, L felt something touch his left foot. Then his right. Every few seconds, something ran from heel to toes, a scratch, a touch. Nothing much. Just repetitive. Then it stopped. Minutes, hours later, the touches to his feet. L became entirely focussed on the touches. When they stopped, he was waiting for the next. When they were happening, he wished they would stop.

Mistress Claire made some adjustments to her little machine, changing the brushes for stiff nylon rods. Now the rods scraped up L's feet, beyond a tickle, almost painful.
By now L was completely incapable of rational thought. The insistent scraping of the soles of his feet, the food,water,wash cycle.

Then it ended. The light flooded in, his feet unlocked from the stocks, the motor whirred and his hands were relased from their position above his head.

"Come out, Linda" said Mistress Claire. L slowly and very carefully shuffled down the chamber, and into the bright, so bright light. His back and buttocks were a mass of red pressure marks, from the rough concrete, but there were no sores, just very tender. The rubber corset had provided some protection for the rest of his back, its tension constantly reminding him of its restrictive presence. Mistress Claire unlocked the wrist shackles from the wire cables, and then removed the wrist and ankle shackles completely.

"You may take off the corset, Linda" L curtseyed to Mistress Claire, who fought against herself not to laugh. The subliminal training had clearly worked well, if even after all the sensory deprivation and pain Linda could still remember the rule "Curtsey after getting an instruction" Mistress Alice had modified the conditioning, so that Linda would curtsey whatever she was wearing, from now on. The other changes included reinforcement of the idea that escape was impossible and very undesirable. They would shortly put that to the test.

"Now go and have a shower, then change into your maids uniform. Do not shave"

L walked quickly from the shed to the kitchen door, letting himself in, then going through the Room, into the wet-room. Pausing to have a quick look around, he was pleased to see the maid's uniform was the one made from soft material. Remembering the warning he had been given the last time he took too long in the shower, he was quick to finish, and dress. Putting on the seamed stockings, he took care to make sure they were straight. The corset, now a routine accessory, was black, satin, to match the maid's uniform and he laced it tightly. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable when he wasn't wearing one, as though something important was missing. The tight panties, also black satin, held him tightly. The black bob wig was resting on the chair, and he clipped it into his own hair, itself getting long enough to be cut in much the same style.

As he left the wet-room, he wondered why Mistress Claire had told him not to shave. After what seemed an age in the oubliette, his beard had grown so the hairs were of a noticeable length. He idly though how incongruous the beard looked, when topping a clearly female body.

Mistress Alice was in the Room, and without saying anything, pointed to L, then to the heavy chair in front of the mirror. He had sat there several times over the past months, usually to have his face made up, which is what he expected now. L sat down. Mistresses Steph and Claire moved quickly to bind his wrists to the sides of the chair, then looping ropes around his ankles, drawing them off the ground under the chair, preventing him from moving himself, or the chair. Ominously, Mistress Alice spread a cloth over L's dress, pulling it up around his neck and tying it in place, like a giant bib.

Mistress Alice pulled a high table from the side of the Room, so that it stood next to L. Mistress Steph left the Room, returning shortly after with a tray, on which was a white bowl, a small paintbrush and a pile of thin cloth, apparntly cut into narrow strips. Taking up the brush, Mistress Alice dipped it into the bowl and advanced on L, who shrank back as far as he could. She brushed the light-brown liquid onto L's cheek. It was hot, not enough to burn, but uncomfortable. After spreading the liquid a little, she picked up a strip of cloth, and laid it on L's cheek, where it stayed in place, held by the sticky liquid. Mistress Alice continued, repeating the sequence of painting, then placing the strips, using the brush to press them flat against L's skin. Some of the liquid, now beginning to cool, rolled down L's upper lip and into his mouth. It was very, very sweet. As the liquid cooled, it stiffened, so L had the peculiar sensation of his skin becoming more and more rigid.

"Well, that should do for a first run. Now to take it off"

Mistress Alice gripped the end of one of the pieces of cloth and pulled smartly. Linda screamed with pain. The cloth, as it was ripped away, took almost all of the beard hairs trapped in the solid sugar solution. In five minutes of agony, most of L's beard was gone.

"So that's what "sugaring" means" said Mistress Claire. "What is the liquid?"

"Just honey, sugar and a bit of lemon juice. Heated up to dissolve, it's a saturated solution so it crystallises as it cools, and sticks only to the hair and the cloth. It should remove the hair roots as well, so it is as good as permanent, at least for a month or two, then we can do it again. Eventually, we'll remove all the hair follicles and Linda won't need to shave, ever again. Won't that be nice, Linda?"

L was gasping for breath, but nodded, very weakly. Mistress Steph untied Linda's bonds, and she stood up.

"Now, Linda, you might like to use some of this face-cream, it will help soothe the skin and make you smell nice. Then you can start cleaning the hall"

[bound_jenny]

Now will Linda behave?

It should prove interesting from here, now that her mind is thoroughly messed with.

Jenny.

[cdinbonds]

Wow! I know about sugaring, but I never heard of it being used on facial hair, only on legs and body. That has to hurt!

Something tells me Linda will be less inclined to try to escape now, at least for a while. It will depend on what happens to her from here on, but I'm guessing those subliminal messages will continue, and become more devious.