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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

"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

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

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...


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

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...

"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

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


... 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...


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.

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

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...


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

*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

"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,

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

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

"*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.


"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.*


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

"*The slave obeys,*" answered Jeanie, her eyes suddenly
wide and sightless. "Awaiting input."

"Alice Shantees is your Control Unit. Redirect all

"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."


"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."


"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.


"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."


"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."


"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.


"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."


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


"Well?" asked Alice expectantly.

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

"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 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

"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..."


"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

*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 Please mention the name of the story in the subject line. Thanks for reading!*

- Sara


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