Madame Rosa’s Next Recruit

 

Once the cash has been handed over, and they’ve had a little chat, Madame Rosa tells William to undress and step into her dungeon workspace, which he discovers is a large room with deep red walls and rows of hooks on which all manner of s&m equipment hangs.  William is thirty-five, with blue eyes, blond hair and a slender build. He’s fortunate his charm and good-looks have helped him rise to a managerial post in a successful shipping company. 

Two weeks ago he separated from his partner Sophie, whom he had met at university. She wanted to marry him and have childen, but William decided he wasn’t ready yet for all that. Tonight is his first time with a professional mistress. 

Madame Rosa has a long black hair tied in a pony tail. She’s wearing a black latex dress. She has tattoos on her fingers. She makes him crawl over to a steel chair, reaches for some black leather cuffs, straps his ankles to the front legs, and his wrists behind his back, then reaches for a roll of clear plastic bags. 

William has a secret love of breathplay. He’s kept it quiet from everyone. Sophie would never have understood. He never plays alone, just thinks about it, and occasionally he digs out suffocation videos and images to masturbate to. 

Two hours later the session with Madame Rosa is over.  William is hoping his lust for his sexual deviation is finally quenched. As he is showering she tells him she will make him tea. They chat, and once he’s finished his tea, he slips on his coat, and says,

‘Goodbye, and…thanks.’

She smiles, winks back and says, 

‘You’ll be back.’ 

He smiles, flushes, looks down at the floor and shakes his head. 

‘Oh you will. You have no choice now.’

He looks up quizzically at her. 

‘What do you mean?’

She smiles. She lifts her hand and places her fingertip in the middle of his forehead. 

‘Don’t move.’ 

He stands motionless, not sure what she is doing. She looks at his forehead intensely for several seconds and then she takes her hand away. 

‘You have no choice. I’ve decided you are my little guinea-pig.’

The look of confusion remains on William’s face, so she adds, 

‘I have decided to brain-wash you and turn you into my mindless slave. I am sure you will like the idea, and you are just the sort of man who will respond well to the programming. The process has started already. The tea you just drank had some little ingredients added which will help the process. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Soon you will notice the effects of the treatment. In the next few days you will forget something, and then you will remember this conversation, and the thought will come into your head that perhaps I was telling the truth and that perhaps there is something happening to your brain. And when you think this, you will start to feel aroused. You will dismiss the thought until the next time you forget something, when the same thought will return, and you will feel horny again. This will be proof the process has begun, your brain is being washed, prepared for re-programming, and there is nothing really you can do about it.  In the weeks that follow your mind will continue to dissolve away slowly and at some point you are going to get in touch with me again, so here’s my card, in case you forget.’

She hands him a red business card with her number on it, beneath her name: 

Mistress Rosa. William stares at her, wondering if she is winding him up, but she seems to be serious. 

‘Ok. Well, look I need to go. Thanks again. Bye.’

He turns quickly and leaves. He runs down the wide wooden staircase, pulls open the heavy wooden doors of the apartment buiding, out into the cool night air. 

All the way home he is thinking about the things she did, the way she teased him, spent an hour sitting on his knees, suffocating him playfully with a clear plastic bag. She laughed as he squirmed, and rubbed rub oil over his stiff cock, stuck up stiff between her thighs. She clearly had experience with this sort of fetish. She knew just how long to keep the bag on, before she pulled it off. His final orgasm had been mind-blowing, unforgettable, more instense than anything he had experienced before. 

A couple of weeks later he returns home from work and looks in the back seat of his car, for leather valise he was bringing home, full of important work documents he needed to study that evening. It’s not there. He panics. He left work with it, surely? He thinks back. He put it down on the ground when he opened his car door to lift in his other holdall, the one he always carries with him. He was speaking to his boss on the phone, so he wasn’t concentrating on what he was doing. He must have forgotten to pick it up and put it in the car. 

It must still be there in the underground car park. He has no choice. He has to go back for it. 

‘Damn!’ 

He is furious with himself. He drives off fast and starts the long tedious journey back into the city. He drives badly, overtaking dangerously, honking at drivers who don’t get out of his way. When he gets back to the underground car park, the leather valise is nowhere to be seen.

‘Shit! Shit Shit!’

Then he stops still for a moment and thinks. Did I leave it in the office? Luckily he has keys to the buiding. He races up the staircase, all the way to the fifth floor. He swiitches on the lights, dashes over to his office and there, on his desk is the leather valise. 

He’s delighted of course and heaves a huge sigh of relief before grabbing it and leaving. As he is driving back home he remembers the weird stuff the Mistress said as he was leaving, and sure enough he starts to get an erection. His mouth is dry. He tries to work out what is going on. Why does the idea that he is slowly being brain-washed arouse him? He realises it’s because it makes him feel helpless, a victim The more he thinks about his sexual fantasies, the more he realises that this is exactly what he wants. That night he cannot resist slipping a shiny bright orange plastic shopping bag over his head and tying it tight round his neck with his tie. He jerks off in the sink, looking in the mirror at his reflection. 

A few days later William is working away in his office and his boss calls to ask him why he isn’t at the board-meeting. 

‘Is is today?’ asks William, in total shock, because he’s completely forgotten about it. His boss is furious and hangs up. William sits back in his chair cringing with embarassment, and very annoyed with himself. How could something as important as that slip out of his mind? He starts to get aroused. He thinks about Madame Rosa. He remembers the tea she gave him. It had a slightly chemical taste. There was something it in, a drug that affected his thinking. He starts to imagine his brain slowly being washed away, his thoughts becoming more confused.

Later that week he’s back in his office and on the phone, negotiating with a buyer. He says,

‘So let’s say 50 units at seven thousand a unit would be, what..… erm… ‘ 

All of a sudden he cannot remember his times tables. He umms and aahs till the buyer gives him the answer and they laugh it off, but afterwards William is left thinking what a fool he must have sounded. The thought comes into his mind that he’s losing mental capacity. His cock stiffens at once.  This is Mistress Rosa. Her brain-washing programming is working. He gets hornier the more he thinks about it. He leaves his office. Goes for a walk in the park. Tries to walk off his erection. 

He sits on a park bench and suddently gets an image into his head of the inside of his skull and slowly all the contents are draining out, leaving the cavity empty.  

His cock makes a noticable bulge in his trousers. The image lodges in his mind for a while, till it’s interrupted by his phone ringing.  It’s Sophie. He’s been ignoring her calls for months. She still adores him, and misses him. He misses her too of course, but is too proud to admit it. He thinks for a moment, decides this is not the right time and switches off his phone. 

Over the next few weeks he finds himself forgetting more things, and this is because he is starting to concentrate less on everything, and to daydream more and more about being Madame Rosa’s mindless slave. He remembers what she said. He can’t do anything about it. It’s not his responsibility any more.  Now most evenings when he gets home, he masturbates in the bathroom, with a plastic bag over his head. This, he decides must also be is part of the brain-washing process. 

William’s safe, comfortable life gradually comes apart. He loses his job because one friday night he forgets to lock his office building and the place gets robbed. A few weeks later he’s told he must move out of his apartment because he left the tap on in the bath and flooded several apartments below.  

It takes a few months before he finds a bedsit to rent.  He arrives with the keys late one evening, and once he’s put his suitcases down, he sits on the grubby mattress ands stares across the dirty room at the brown stained net curtain, wafting playfully in the draft of the cracked window.  He’s lost the capacity for inteligent reasoning. His thoughts are all fuzzy. All he can do is daydream about how nice it is, being Madame Rosa’s plastic slave. He reaches in his jacket pocket for the roll of clear clear bags and a thick elastic band. He tears a bag off the roll and slides the bag gently down over his head, He fastens the band around his neck. He unzips his fly and starts to masturbate. He gets up and walks into the tiny bathroom. There is a cracked mirror over the brown stained sink. He jerks off. watching himself suffocate, watching the plastic stick tight to his face each time he sucks in air and then feeling the pleasurable sensation of the air squeezing his head, when the bag fills out tight like a balloon. When his jizz has finished dripping down into the sink, he thinks he’s ready to return to Mistress Rosa. He goes back into the main room, rummages through his jacket, but his wallet containing Madame Rosa’s card is missing. He sits back on the bed, confused and slightly dizzy from the orgasm, and struggles to remember what he did with his wallet. 

It dawns on him gradually that for all those years Sophie had been a sort of prison warden for him. She prevented him from going down pathways to hell, like the one he was currently on, and though when he was living with her he felt imprisoned, he didn’t realise then that it was safer that way for a man like him. 

At that moment his phone rings. 

It’s Sophie. Out of the blue. Just like that. This time he answers it without thinking. He tells her he needs to see her, then struggles to remember his address. She tells him she’ll be round as soon as possible.  

‘OK. Thanks.’ he says. 

Daniel Guy