Lorenzo Marks' Deviant Tales
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The Mentalist

 

© 2015 by Lorenzo Marks. All rights reserved. Not for sale.

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Emma awoke with a start. She had been in a disturbed sleep, but she had no recollection of her dream other than a lingering vision of a cloud of white powder floating towards her face.

 

At first she had no idea where she was, but raising her head groggily, she realized that she was lying on the sofa in her living room. As her faculties slowly returned, she also became aware of two other things – it was getting dark, and her doorbell was ringing. With some effort, she raised herself up, swung her legs over the side of the sofa, and looked at her watch in dismay – it was nearly six!

 

Good God! I must have been sleeping here all day!

 

With the persistent doorbell exacerbating her throbbing headache, she picked up a printed document from the coffee table. Then she remembered – it was Saturday, and she had been planning on spending the weekend interviewing prospective tenants for her vacant spare room. Blinking to focus her eyes, Emma scanned the tenancy agreement, and with a start, saw that it had already been filled out and signed, both by herself and a certain Mr. Felix Tanner.

 

Her heart pounding, she had no absolutely recollection of meeting this person, and besides, she had only replied to e-mails from female applicants. But here in her hand was physical evidence that not only had she interviewed a man, but had also apparently decided to take him on!

 

The doorbell, which had paused for a moment, now resumed its assault on her senses, and she rose unsteadily, the completed form still in her hand. Using the wall for support, Emma went into the hallway and, after peeking through the spyhole, opened the front door with the safety latch on.

 

A somewhat rotund middle-aged man was standing on her porch with a couple of shabby leather suitcases. Seeing  Emma, he broke into a rather plastic smile and said, “Emma! There you are! I was beginning to wonder if you had gone out!”

 

Emma blinked at him, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Dressed in an Edwardian style three-piece suit, he had a round, pink face, a moustache that looked as if it had been waxed, and a red, veiny nose.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “Do I know you?”

 

The smile faltering momentarily, the man said, “I should hope so. We were talking in your living room only this morning.”

 

Emma frowned and shook her head. “No, we weren’t.”

 

“Surely you haven’t forgotten. The advertisement? You were looking for a lodger.” Felix gestured at the tenancy agreement in her hand.

 

“No, that’s impossible” Emma said. “I can’t have signed this.”

 

“But you did, Emma. Look at the signature. It’s yours, and I watched you put it on the dotted line – right beside mine.”

 

The stranger fished around in his pocket and poked a cream business card through the gap. It read, THE AMAZING FELIX TANNER – MENTALIST EXTRAORDNIARE, with a cell number underneath.

 

Emma looked incredulously at the card and then at the tenancy agreement in her hand.

 

“Yes, that’s me,” Felix said impatiently.

 

Now Emma’s eyes shifted towards Felix’s luggage and a wave of panic swept over her.

 

As if reading her mind, Felix said, “That’s right. You told me I could move in this evening.”

 

In spite of her disorientation, Emma detected something not quite right about this man. His face did look slightly familiar, although she was still certain that she had never met him, but there was something disconcerting about his manner, the way he seemed to be greedily appraising her which made her feel increasingly uneasy.

 

I’ve been drugged. That has to be it!

 

“Look, I’m sorry, there’s been some kind of mistake,” she said. “I was only considering female applicants.”

 

She started to shut the door, and then Felix quickly said something that stopped her in her tracks.

 

“Cunt lips!”

 

Emma stared at him, open-mouthed. “What did you just say to me?”

 

“Open the door, Emma,” Felix said. “That’s a good girl.”

 

“How dare you!” Emma yelled, but even as the words left her lips, to her horror, she was already pushing the door to, and then she unhooked the chain.

 

What the hell am I doing?

 

Panicked, she helplessly stood aside to allow the freaky looking man inside, inhaling his spicy aftershave and oily hair as he passed by.

 

“Get out!” she yelled. “Get out of my house!”

 

Felix regarded her calmly and then said, “Please don’t make a scene, Emma. I’d like you to lower your voice from now on. Don’t want you disturbing the neighbors. My bags, if you please?”

 

Her head in a spin, Emma watched the strange man disappear into her living room, and then, as if driven by an unknown force, she obediently picked up the suitcases and carried them inside. To her growing dismay, Felix was already making himself comfortable on her sofa.

 

“Take them up to your bedroom please, and then you can welcome me with a nice cup of tea. Milk but no sugar.”

 

Rage now mingling with her confusion and fear, Emma opened her mouth to scream at him again, but this time, her words came out soft and even. “Who do you think you are? You have no right to be here, ordering me around like this.”

 

Felix gave her an amused smile and said, “And yet you are obeying, are you not? Now hurry along.”

 

Emma certainly couldn’t deny that as, unbidden, her legs carried her up the stairs. The question was: Why?

 

Blinking back tears of frustration, she dumped his bags on the floor of her bedroom and went downstairs to the kitchen. Automatically, she filled the kettle and switched it on before taking a cup and saucer out of the cupboard.

 

 As she waited for the water to boil, Emma tried to slow her racing thoughts. He’s done something to me, that much is obvious. It must have been when he was here earlier. All those lost hours while I was unconscious! He’s had plenty of opportunity to program me like this.

 

Program? Is that was it was? Had he somehow managed to override her sense of free will while she had been out of it?

 

Emma suddenly felt lightheaded as the ramifications hit her like a sledgehammer. What else could he make her do? What did he have in mind? And most chillingly, how long would this last for?

 

Suppressing a sob of despair, Emma carried the teacup into her living room, desperately clinging to the notion that perhaps she was still asleep, and this bizarre scenario was all part of some awful dream. Unfortunately, the mentalist – her new tenant! – was still here, shoes off, relaxing in her home as if he now owned it!

 

“Ah, thank you,” he purred. “Put it on the coffee table and come and kneel on the floor next to me. It’s time we had a little chat.”

 

Yet again, even though she resisted mentally, Emma submissively complied with his request. As rapidly as these frightening and surreal events had transpired, it was fast becoming obvious that she was completely under his spell for now, and that she would have to try and calm herself in order to figure out a way to extract herself from it.

 

Kneeling on the carpet, looking up at this caricature of a man, Emma took a deep breath and asked, “What have you do done to me?”

 

“What makes you think I’ve done anything?” he asked, reaching out and stroking her hair.

 

“Don’t touch me!” Emma said, flinching away. Her instinct had been to get up and run, but her knees remained frozen to the carpet. Also, she had intended to shout, but again her words had left her mouth quietly and demurely. What had he said earlier? I’d like you to lower your voice from now on. And that was exactly what she was doing – permanently it seemed, unless he told her otherwise.

 

As she digested this realization, a knot of fear twisted in her stomach. If this was true, she was nothing more than his puppet, and he could make her do anything he wanted!

 

“Please keep still, Emma,” he said, and this time, to her alarm, she remained kneeling at his feet while he played with her brown, shoulder-length locks. His long nails teasing her scalp made her skin crawl and she shuddered involuntarily.

 

Seeing the goose bumps on her forearms, Felix said, “You like that do you?”

 

“No!” Emma gasped, her voice little more than a whisper.

 

“Then why are you letting me do it?”

 

He was toying with her now, pretending that he was the innocent party, but the fact was, to an outside observer, it certainly would appear as if she was allowing him to touch her without resistance. Only her speech gave any indication of her non-consent, but actions speak louder than words. What if he decided to rape her, by instructing her to actively make love to him? How could she prove to a court of law that she hadn’t been a willing partner?

 

These awful thoughts tumbled through her mind in a microsecond before she said, “I’m not. You’ve done something to me. It happened this morning.”

 

White powder.

 

“You drugged me,” her voice was quavering now. “Why? What do you want from me?”

 

“Hmm,” Felix said, his fingertips now trailing down the nape of her neck, making her grimace. “Let me see. Well, you are a very attractive young lady, Emma, and I am a lonely old man, looking for female company. What do you suggest?”

 

Subconsciously, Emma had already suspected this was coming, but now that he had articulated his intentions, Emma began to suffer palpitations.

 

“What… what are you saying?”

 

“Let me spell it out for you. Over the coming weeks you are going to surprise your friends and family, your boyfriend if you have one, by falling for a much older man – that would be me, by the way – and your infatuation will be so intense that you will do absolutely anything to make me happy. That includes sacrificing relationships, social circles, even your career. Your sole purpose in life will be to serve ‘The Amazing Felix Tanner’ in every conceivable way.”

 

Emma was shaking her head slowly, the walls of her living room receding rapidly, her heart thumping in her chest. “No… I won’t… I can’t…”

 

“I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter, dear,” Felix said, taking her hand. “You can, and you will. As of this moment, you and I are going to be lovers. Now come up here and give me a kiss.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Her nightmare spiraling rapidly out of control, Emma’s body automatically perched itself beside the portly old stranger on her sofa, and turned her face towards his.

 

Oh God! I have got to fight this! she thought desperately. But it was useless to resist! Her body was instantly complying with every single one of Felix’s verbal commands, and she was powerless to prevent it from happening!

 

Screwing her eyes tight shut, she planted a light kiss on his saggy cheek and then pulled away in disgust.

 

“Well, that wasn’t much of a kiss, was it?” Felix said. “You’re supposed to be in love with me. I want a nice wet French kiss on the mouth. I want to taste your little pink tongue. Tell you what, come and sit on my lap, and we can try it again.”

 

“Please…” Emma said, her arms and legs shaking now. “I’ll give you money, anything, if you’ll just let me go!”

 

“Well, yes, you will give me money – everything you have in fact. I’ll be holding the purse strings for both of us from now on. In the meantime you’ll need to learn how to satisfy a man properly. Come along now, hop on.”

 

No! No! No! Emma screamed in her head, but his magical spell over her was absolute, and she promptly sat on his lap. To her horror, she could feel his erection beneath her buttocks, and she jerked upward.

 

“Stay in place,” Felix said, his breath warm on he neck. “Now put your arm around my shoulders and give me a lingering wet, kiss.”

 

A tear of despair trickled down Emma’s cheek as she opened her mouth and placed it over the revolting man’s lips. As her tongue made contact with his, an image of her boyfriend Steve, unexpectedly popped into her head, and she sent a choked sob down Felix’s throat. She was cheating on her true lover! What if he found out about what she was doing right now? And what if he were to witness a scene like this – or worse? How would she explain it away? That she had been somehow hypnotized? There was no way that he, or anyone else for that matter, was going to believe that.

 

Felix had said that Emma was going to surprise everybody by falling in love with him. She knew that would never happen, but as their tongues continued to thrash around together, it occurred to her that if Felix had the power to make her speak quietly, then it was also quite plausible that he could tell her what to say. That meant he could force her to break up with Steve, and also happily explain to her friends that she was indeed infatuated with this ugly invader! A new terror pulsed through her as it suddenly dawned upon her how utterly trapped she was.

 

She became aware that Felix was sliding his hand underneath her butt and squeezing her left cheek. She willed herself to move away but her lips remained stubbornly glued to his! This deranged sicko could keep this nauseating kiss going for hours if he so desired!

 

His sickly sweet breath blew hot down her throat as his tongue danced over her teeth and then explored the roof of her mouth. This had already been taken to a deeply personal level, and woefully, Emma instinctively knew that he intended to take it much further.

 

Fresh tears began to course down her cheeks, and Felix finally removed his tongue from her mouth. But instead of her ordeal being over, he started licking away at her salty tears! The sensation of his soft tongue fluttering over her cheeks was so intimate that she felt even more violated than when he had just French-kissed her!

 

“There, there” Felix cooed. “It can’t be all that bad. Besides, with practice, I’m sure you will get quite used to it – and I can guarantee that we will be practicing a lot.”

 

Never! Emma protested in her head. You might have control of my body, but my heart belongs to me!

 

“Now that we are a little better acquainted,” Felix said, running his damp fingertips down the back of her neck, “we need to do something about your attire. As you might have noticed, I am a rather old fashioned person and I like my women to dress appropriately. I’m afraid your jeans and  t-shirt get up just won’t do, likewise the scanty underwear I’m sure you are wearing. That will all have to go – if fact, you can donate your entire wardrobe to Goodwill. I don’t even need to check it because I have seen how you modern missies dress these days.”

 

Emma stared at him, eyes wide. “All of my clothes?”

 

“Yes, everything. But don’t worry, I have brought some carefully selected apparel for you, and you will put some on in a moment. I’ve thought of everything. There will be a uniform for your housework, a special costume for gardening, some lovely nightgowns, and few outfits for outdoors.”

 

Emma’s stomach lurched at the ramifications of his words. The thought of even walking around in public with this vile man was mortifying enough, but what if any of Emma’s friends saw her dressed in some antiquated frock? She would quickly become the laughing stock of her social circle!

 

“Please,” she softly whined. “You really don’t have to change my clothing.”

 

Felix gave her a pitying smile. “You still don’t quite get it, do you, my dear? I can do anything I want with you, and I fully intend to. In a few months time, you will be quite unrecognizable to everybody that knows you – in both your appearance and behavior! Now let’s go upstairs to your bedroom and get you suitably fitted out.”

 

He patted Emma on the thigh and she dutifully stood up and then followed him up the stairs. As she watched his broad ass ascending her staircase, it finally hit her that this was all really going to happen! She was about to throw out all of her clothes and wear what her new, legally signed up lodger told her to! He had talked about housework and gardening. Did that mean she was going to be reduced to the role of his maid?

 

As they entered her own bedroom, Emma finally understood that her only hope of regaining her freedom was to find out what he had drugged her with. Then she might be able to reverse the process. She could only pray that – God forbid! – the effects weren’t permanent.

 

Felix placed one of his battered suitcases on her bed and opened it. Then Emma watched in horror and dismay as he began to lay her new wardrobe out on the bedspread. Her suspicions had been confirmed – these frocks and undergarments looked as though they were from the Victorian era! Where the hell had he got them from? A fancy dress shop? There was no way she could possibly be seen wearing this ludicrously old-fashioned stuff!

 

After deliberating for a moment, Felix selected some items from the main pile and arranged them separately on the other side of Emma’s queen-sized bed.

 

“I think we’ll start with these,” he said breezily. “A nice period chambermaid’s outfit. When you are dressed, you can empty your cupboards and drawers and put everything into bin liners for the Goodwill people. No time like the present. But first, you need to get out of the trashy clothes you are wearing now.”

 

Emma felt her throat go dry. “Here? In front of you?”

 

“Where else?” Felix said, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Surely you aren’t shy about changing in front of your new lover?”

 

“Please don’t make me do this,” Emma whimpered frantically. But already she discovered that she had unbuttoned her jeans and was now pulling down the zipper! That was the depth of control he had over her! He didn’t even have to bark the order or repeat himself. It was a simple suggestion, which meant that if they were ever together in public, he could convey his orders in the most innocuous fashion, so as not to arouse anyone’s suspicions.

 

Feeling helpless beyond words, Emma was reduced to being a mere spectator as her hands rolled her denims down her slender legs. Tugging the tight fitting cuffs over her ankles, she straightened up and caught sight of herself in the mirror. That morning, she had put on a pair of white boxers emblazoned with a Teddy Bear carrying a bunch of balloons. It was a childish indulgence – she had a matching nightshirt – that she had always kept to herself. Not even her boyfriend, Steve, knew of their existence. But now somebody else was looking at them – with an amused smile on his puffy old face!

 

“How cute,” Felix said. “How old are you, Emma?”

 

The ironic tone of his voice, combined with her partial state of undress, caused Emma to blush furiously. Placing her hands in front of her crotch, she turned her face away in embarrassment.

 

“Now don’t be rude,” Felix said. “Look at me, and tell me how old you are.”

 

Again, the request was delivered in a mild enough manner, and yet, like a pre-programmed automaton, Emma immediately turned to face him, and feeling like a silly little girl, said, “I’m twenty-three.”

 

Felix nodded thoughtfully. “Thirty five years my junior. Still, I’m surprised that you are attracted to such juvenile underwear. Suppressed trauma from your childhood, perhaps? Never mind, we’ll soon cure you of your puerile tendencies. Now, the t-shirt, if you please?”

 

Even as her treacherous fingers started lifting the hem of her shirt, Emma’s knees began to shake. Although she had quite small, pert breasts, it must have been readily apparent to Felix that she was braless, because as her chest slowly came into view, he craned his neck forward for a closer look.

 

In the mirror behind him, Emma watched in growing despair as her perky, brown nipples revealed themselves to this stranger for the first time. She was briefly relieved of the sight of his hungry eyes as she pulled the shirt up over her head, before dropping the garment to her feet. She immediately cupped her hands over her nubile breasts, acutely aware that all she was wearing now were her suddenly very embarrassing boxers and a pair of pink ankle socks.

 

How could things have developed so rapidly? Not long ago, this despicable man was standing on my doorstep. Now I’m undressing for him in my own bedroom!

 

“There’s really no need for you to cover yourself, my child. By now, you will surely understand that I can look at you any time I please. Besides, you haven’t got much to hide anyway.”

 

His insulting comment suddenly triggered a burst of outrage inside Emma. Who the hell did this guy think he was? The last thing in the world she wanted was to display her naked body to him, but now she had to endure his unasked-for criticism too!

 

Instead of telling her to lower her arms however, Felix ran his tongue around his lips and said, “Let’s get those silly underpants off, and we can get you into some sensible clothing.”

 

 

 


 

Chapter Three

 

Wishing that the ground would swallow her up, Emma turned her back to him as her fingers dragged her boxers down to her feet. Then she stepped out of them, placing the back of her left hand between the cleft of her buttocks, whilst wrapping her right arm across her chest. She was effectively naked now, and she had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in her entire life!

 

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” she blurted out desperately.

 

“Yes there is,” came Felix’s patronizing voice from behind her. “You can start by taking off your socks and putting on that pair of bloomers.”

 

“No, I... I meant... to make you go away,” Emma said, hating how pathetic she sounded.

 

“Oh, I see. You’re still trying to find a way out, are you? Well I’m sorry to have to inform you that your conditioning is permanent and irreversible. It took over four hours to embed the suggestions that deeply into your subconscious mind. Quite exhausting work, I might add.”

 

Permanent! Irreversible!

 

Despite her uncomfortable and humiliating situation, Emma mournfully registered the fact that her hastily gathered theory had now been confirmed. He had drugged her and then somehow managed to hypnotize her while she was out of it. Now she had to try and find a way of reversing the process – if that was indeed still possible!

 

Meanwhile, as they had been talking, Emma, or whatever was controlling her, had bent her knees – keeping her legs together and her left hand still covering her ass – and worked her socks off with her other hand. Now she turned to her left and picked up the pair of old–fashioned bloomers.

 

Bloomers! The word itself conjured up images of nannies and maids, petticoats and garters! Emma felt as though she had stepped through a time warp as she nervously held up the hideous garment for inspection. Made of plain white cotton, they came down to just above the knee, with elasticated, frilly cuffs. But on closer inspection, Emma saw that Felix had included a rather unsettling refinement. Pulling the two legs apart, she discovered that they were actually separated, only joined together near the waistband, creating a large open area, front and back, that would leave her buttocks and vulva exposed!

 

Oh, dear God! What has this pervert got in store for me?

 

Not wishing to be naked in the same room as this hateful man any longer than she had to, Emma quickly pulled the bloomers on. They were quite a tight fit, which made her wonder what other sizes her new outfit would come in. There was no way Felix could have known her size, and yet he must have estimated it somehow. This brought her to her earlier question – had he purchased these clothes especially for her, or had them made to order? Or were they part of a larger wardrobe that he had already used on other victims?

 

These frenzied thoughts rattled through Emma’s mind in a split second as she automatically reached for the next item on the bed. This was a Victorian style corset, but again Emma discovered that its original design had been altered, because when she wrapped it around her middle, it only reached as high as the base of her breasts!

 

Keeping her back to her lecherous spectator, she reluctantly, but obediently, did up the hooks on the front until her naked boobs were thrust obscenely forward. It was then that she felt Felix’s hot breath on her neck, and she pressed her hands against her breasts.

 

“Stay where you are,” Felix whispered. “I’m just going to help you with the lacing.”

 

Despite her natural instinct to pull away, Emma’s body did as it was told and she remained passively still while Felix began to tighten the laces on the back of the corset. And tighten them he did, pulling harder and harder until Emma’s already narrow waist was tightly constricted!

 

She let out a gasp and said, “I can’t breath!”

 

“Of course you can,” Felix said, reprovingly. “All of the Victorian women coped with it.”

 

Yes, but not this tight! Emma thought frantically.

 

When Felix was done, he stepped back and said, “Now the petticoat.”

 

Struggling for breath, Emma was almost grateful for the ugly cotton petticoat, because at least it now covered up her buttocks, genitals and breasts.

 

“Okay, perhaps you’d like to turn back around now,” Felix said. Emma by now knew that this wasn’t a request, but a command, and when she turned to face him, she again caught her reflection in the mirror. The sight that greeted her would have been laughable if she hadn’t been in such a dire situation. The outlines of her nipples were clearly visible against the thin cotton petticoat, and below it, the elasticated bottoms of the bloomers bit into the flesh of her lower thighs. Even her mousy, shoulder-length hair seemed to look a bit ridiculous now that it was complimented by this antiquated underwear!

 

“Socks next,” Felix said, and her cheeks on fire, Emma sat on the edge of her bed and donned the pair of knee length, black and gray hooped socks that were waiting for her. All of a sudden, she was beginning to feel a little hot!

 

Next, Felix directed her to the chambermaid’s dress. Nothing remotely sexy about this! A plain, black ankle length dress, which hung loosely over the rest of her ludicrous attire. After fastening a white apron around her waist, there were only two more items remaining.

 

Stifling a groan of disgust, Emma planted a white mop cap onto her head, before finally turning her attention to the ugly, brown leather granny boots sitting on the floor beside her.

 

As she leaned forward to lace them up, she grunted deeply as the cruelly tight corset restricted her movement. With some effort she completed the task, and then at Felix’s bidding, she stood up and faced him, flushed and out of breath.

 

She really wished that the mirror wasn’t so strategically placed now, because if she had looked comical before, now she looked positively hilarious – to a third party observer, at least. The worst part was that the outfit seemed to have aged her about twenty years!

 

She was already perspiring heavily under the layers of clothing, the only parts getting any air being her uncovered crotch and ass. How long was he planning on keeping her in this awful get up?

 

Felix allowed her to stand foolishly before him for a while before saying, “A marked improvement, I think. I really cannot abide the way you modern young missies dress these days. And that goes for your make-up, too. There will be no more of that from now on.”

 

He leaned forward to inspect Emma’s face. “You look like a tart, young lady.”

 

A tart? Emma bridled. She didn’t overdo her cosmetics as a rule, and today she had applied only a little eye shadow, a line of mascara, and some very pale pink lipstick. And besides, how could she possibly look like a tart in this belittling Victorian costume?

 

“In fact’” Felix went on, “all of your modern accessories will have to go. Jewelry, computers, your horrible hip-hop music, and that includes watching it on television. Yes, there will be no more exposure to the corrupting youth culture of today. That also means no internet access or social media, too...”

 

As Felix droned on, Emma felt the walls of her bedroom closing in on her. Quite clearly, this madman intended to make her a prisoner in her own home! If she was literally unable to help herself, then she needed to try and alert somebody outside. Frantically, she considered her options. Her parents were as good as useless, her father having left when she was young, and her irresponsible mother living out a promiscuous lifestyle in California. But her friends, nearly all of them colleagues at Bloomindale’s, would almost certainly become concerned when she didn’t pop up on Facebook or Line after a few days.

 

“… so from now on, you will refer to me as Mr. Tanner.” Felix was saying. “Even though we will be living as husband and wife, I am a firm believer in the male of the household wearing the pants.”

 

“But what about my job, and my friends, Mr. Tanner?” Emma interrupted. She had intended to unbalance him, but by unconsciously and instantly applying his new honorific title, the effect was somewhat diluted.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“If I can’t go to work or contact my friends, they’ll start to think something has happened to me. I’ve got to be able to at least use my phone.”

 

Catching her image in the mirror, Emma inwardly winced. She looked like a caricature of a Victorian chambermaid, and even she couldn’t picture herself holding a modern smartphone dressed in this ridiculously outdated costume.

 

“A good point,” Mr. Tanner said. “And one that we will address later on after you have finished bagging up your stuff. You can keep your cell phone and other online devices for now, but everything else has to go. On second thought, keep any valuables you might have too, gold chains, necklaces, rings, and bring them to me when you have finished. No point in wasting money, is there? All you need now are the items in the suitcases. From now on you will be living a frugal lifestyle, and your wants will be simple and few. Off you go, then. And wash that make-up off your face – this is the last time you’ll ever wear cosmetics in your life.”

 

Now fully prepared for her body to comply, Emma tried to imagine how Mr. Tanner was going to handle the complication of her work and friends. He didn’t seem unduly concerned about it, and that bothered her, because she thought she had found a loophole in his plans for her future incarceration. She rinsed her face in the bathroom sink and looked miserably in the cabinet mirror. She had, pretty, if slightly impish features – bright, oval, brown eyes, a stubby nose, and a cute, small mouth, all set in a roundish face under a head of shoulder-length mousy hair – and didn’t need a lot of make-up to accentuate them. But the previously unimaginable thought of never being allowed to wear lipstick or eye shadow ever again sent a chill right through her.

 

For the next hour or so, Emma sadly cleaned out her cupboards and drawers. She knew it was useless to resist, and despite the emptiness she felt she as she watched all of her clothes, fashion accessories, books, other reminders of her modern lifestyle disappear one by one into the growing pile of bin liners, her unfaithful body kept on going as if it didn’t belong to her at all!

 

I’ve got to stop this before it becomes too late to turn back! she thought desperately. Then, perspiring heavily under the thick layers of clothing, her breaths coming in labored gulps because of the crushing corset, she began to haul her precious possessions downstairs to await collection by the Goodwill people.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Clumping along the passageway in her tight-fitting granny boots, Emma caught sight of her face in the wall mirror. Apart from the endless embarrassment at being compelled to wear this absurd chambermaid’s costume, the main reason for her flushed features was the oppressive heat she was feeling. Underneath the unflattering dress, plain petticoat, and crushing corset, her slim body was soaked with perspiration. Even her uncovered buttocks and genitals were damp with sweat, making it decidedly unpleasant for her as she went about her pointless duties.

 

For the past two hours she had been going from room to room with an antiquated feather duster, flicking it against every surface she encountered. It wasn’t as if the place even needed it, because she employed a cleaner to come in once a week. No, now that she was beginning to understand the cruel workings of Mr. Tanner’s twisted mind, she new that this chore had been devised specifically to belittle her, and also to wear down her spirit.

 

The latter hadn’t even remotely happened yet, but she was forced to concede that her stifling attire – especially the restricting corset – and the endless tramping around her house, was beginning to make her physically wilt. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and entered her spare bedroom for the third time. She couldn’t see one speck of dust, but by now she was only too aware that her programmed body would keep on going at it until Mr. Tanner told her she could stop – and if he wanted, he could keep her at it all night!

 

Mr. Tanner? Swatting the idiotic-looking feather duster against the window – it was yet another outdated prop provided by her new captor – Emma realized with a jolt that not only had she started calling him ‘Mr. Tanner’, but she was even thinking about him by that name as well!

 

This brought home the chilling realization that it wasn’t just her speech and actions that were being controlled by him, but also certain aspects of her thinking! The implications here were beyond comprehension. What if, by means of a simple and seemingly innocent statement, he could for example, shift her emotions so that she became sexually attracted him? Or worse, programmed her to fall in love with him? Her entrapment would then be complete and irreversible! Not only would she tell all of her friends that she had fallen for this vile person, but she would even believe it herself!

 

Emma started to suffer palpitations as she considered this terrible possibility. Now her plight had taken on a new meaning – she might find herself fighting to preserve her very soul! Under the constraints of the vicious corset, she began to hyperventilate.

 

I must keep calm, and my thoughts under control, because right now, that is all I have!

 

She stopped her dusting and took several deep lungsful of air. When her breathing was normalized, she resumed her hateful task again, this time trying to keep her mind blank. After finishing the spare room, she headed back downstairs to the living room. This was the worst part, because Mr. Tanner was down there looking through her electronic devices. Acting out this Victorian maid’s role was bad enough, but doing it in front of him was considerably more humiliating!

 

She peeked around the doorway to see if he had maybe left the room, but there he was, paging through her social media accounts, learning about her friends, her job, and of course, her boyfriend Steve. Oh, how Emma, wished he would turn up now and confront the horrible old fiend. On reflection, that would actually be the worst thing that could happen, because he would see Emma in this comical outfit, and then she would almost certainly have to tell him that she was in love with her new tenant!

 

As she passed the duster across the surface of the dining room table, Mr. Tanner looked up and said, “I think that will do for now. You can take a rest while I inspect your work.”

 

Thank God! Emma thought. Her calves were aching and her feet were on fire! But if she thought that she going to receive a temporary respite, she was very much mistaken.

 

“Go and kneel in the corner of the room, facing the wall with your hands behind your head, and your back straight,” Mr. Tanner said. “It’s important that we work on improving your posture. Can’t have you slouching around like a modern youth, can we?”

 

For the next twenty minutes, Emma knelt in the uncomfortable and humiliating position, blinking back tears of frustration at her inability to do anything about her paralyzing predicament. During her demeaning and pointless cleaning session, she had heard her cell phone ring several times, and she desperately wanted to know who was trying to contact her. Certainly, most of the calls would have come from Steve. Because she had been anticipating a long day interviewing prospective candidates, Emma had cancelled their usual Saturday night out together – how she regretted that decision now!

 

She guessed that eventually Mr. Tanner would permit her to return her missed calls, but inevitably he would make her put Steve off in some way. Miserably, she now fully comprehended how much of a tangled web she was caught up in – and that she was actually assisting in creating in her own isolated prison!

 

“Well, young lady,” Mr. Tanner said, catching Emma unawares. “I’m afraid your housework has been most unsatisfactory. There were trails of dust in every room. I have no idea what you have been up to for the past two hours, but now I am going to have to punish you for your laziness.”

 

Still in her aching position, Emma tensed herself. Punish? This was a new and worrying development. What the hell did this freak have in mind now?

 

“Stand in the center of the room, please,” Mr. Tanner said.

 

Please? Emma thought bitterly as she promptly complied with his request. As if I had any choice in the matter!

 

Mr. Tanner settled down in one of Emma’s armchairs and said, “Now I’d like you to remove your apron and dress in order to facilitate your punishment.”

 

Emma’s stomach tightened. She was all too aware that her ridiculous bloomers would leave her buttocks and crotch exposed, and that her pert breasts would also be on full display. Now, as she untied the apron with trembling fingers, her mind went into a frenzied spin as she anticipated what was awaiting her next!

 

All too soon, she was standing in just her outdated and embarrassing undergarments before this sinister man who had so quickly and completely invaded her life. Reflexively, she clasped her hands over her exposed vulva.

 

“Place your hands on the coffee table and spread your legs, keeping them straight,” Mr. Tanner, said with a noticeable quiver in his voice.

 

Emma’s ultimate nightmare was now completely unfolding as she meekly obeyed, her cheeks turning crimson at the thought of how she must look right now! Mr. Tanner picked up the feather duster and moved around behind her small, lightly haired hammock and tight buttocks.

 

“Please,” Emma said, “I’ll do all the cleaning again. I’ll be a good maid, I promise. Just please don’t touch me!”

 

“Oh, yes, you will do it all over again, and again and again until you get it right, you lazy girl!” Mr. Tanner said, and suddenly there was a resounding crack from behind her as Emma’s buttocks caught fire!

 

“Aah!” Emma’s head snapped up and her hands shot back around to cover her burning ass cheeks.

 

“Resume the position,” Mr. Tanner said, “and stay that way until I give you permission to move.”

 

Her eyes stinging, Emma once again helplessly exposed her bare buttocks to this total stranger, and braced herself for the next swipe of the duster’s wooden handle. As confused and rattled as she was over the surreal events of the past few hours, Emma still found it inconceivable that she should be allowing this disgusting old man to spank her like a little girl in her own home. But no matter how much she tried to deny it in her mind, the sharp pains across her bottom were proof enough that this was actually happening to her!

 

The strokes were as humiliating as they were agonizing, and Emma was greatly relieved when Mr. Tanner said, “That should give you something to think about. Now let’s see if you can go about your tasks in a responsible manner.”

 

Emma waited anxiously for the order to stand up. She could only guess at the sick old fuck’s expression as he ogled her vagina and red-streaked buttocks. But what came next took her ordeal down to a whole new and disgusting level as with a shocked gasp, Emma felt the tip of the duster’s handle touching her asshole!

 

“No! Please don’t!” she murmured, unable to shout because of Mr. Tanner’s prior programming. But her protests were in vain.

 

“Push back, my dear,” Mr. Tanner said throatily. “I would very much like you to impale yourself on the feather duster’s stick, if you would be so kind.”

 

For the love of God! Enough already! What the fuck is this beast thinking of?

 

Even as she tried unsuccessfully to process this latest disgusting development, Emma braced her arms on the coffee table and began to ease her buttocks backward onto the wooden handle. New tears of exasperation and shame formed in her eyes as the tip of the handle pushed painfully against her tight sphincter. To an onlooker it would appear as if she was willingly defiling herself in this revolting way, because, once again, Mr. Tanner had actually asked her quite politely to violate herself with this object.

 

But it isn’t me! Emma protested in her head. I don’t want to do this hateful, disgusting thing!

 

And yet, how could she deny that she was doing it? He wasn’t pointing a gun at her head, was he? All he was doing was asking her to follow his commands. For the first time, Emma felt a wave of self-loathing as, with an undignified grunt, she pushed back harder, allowing the hard wooden rod to breach her sphincter muscle.

 

“Ugh! Oh!”

 

As the foreign object slipped deeper inside her, Emma felt a searing pain rip through her insides. She had never even so much as put her finger into that dirty place before, and the pain was almost unbearable.

 

“Keep going. Give me a little wiggle and work it in,” Mr. Tanner said encouragingly, and the arousal in his voice was now plain to hear.

 

Emma’s body instantly complied again, and she moved her narrow hips around, allowing even deeper penetration of the duster’s handle.

 

“Ooh! Please take it out!” she quietly moaned, the soft inner walls of her rectum now really on fire.

 

“Come now, I think you like it stuck up your bottom,” Mr. Tanner chuckled. “Why else would you be so obliging? Anyway, I think it’s stuck in far enough, so you can straighten up now.”

 

Her cheeks burning with humiliation, Emma stood up again, now in a total dilemma as to whether she should face him and show him her propped-up, thrusting breasts and exposed genitalia, or suffer the greater shame of letting him see the feather duster jutting ludicrously out of her rear-end!

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

“My goodness!” Mr. Tanner giggled. “You look like you’ve grown a tail!”

 

Emma could only imagine how absurd she looked, but of far greater urgency was the burning pain that the invading rod was causing her. It was as much as she could do not to cry out in anguish! Why was this sick man making her do these things? What pleasure could he possibly be deriving from it?

 

“Now you’re going to have to clean all of the rooms again,” Mr. Tanner said. “But this time, as I expect you have already deduced, you will be using the duster in a rather more unorthodox manner.”

 

Such was Emma’s current state of emotional distress that she hadn’t actually connected the practical use of the feather duster with the physical pain it was causing her. Now she comprehended – to both her disgust and horror – precisely what the old bastard meant. He expected her to dust all of the surfaces of her house by manipulating the instrument while it was impaled inside of her!

 

Oh, you sick, fucking dirty old man!

 

“It going to take you a few hours,” Mr. Tanner said from behind her, “and I know that you are already feeling a little weary, so I’ve got a couple of ideas that will help to keep you awake. Turn around dear, and present me with your perky little nipples.”

 

Her eyes welling up now, Emma awkwardly shuffled around to face her tormentor. She was nothing more than his puppet, and he could do anything that he wanted with her – and it was becoming quite clear that he intended to do just that!

 

Like a magician, he produced two wooden clothes pegs from his breast pocket. “These should keep your mind from wandering off.”

 

Then he reached across, and with one in each hand, pinched the pegs open. Emma’s instinctive reaction was to pull back, but again, the subtle power of his hypnotic suggestions kept her passively in position as he clipped the two pegs over each of her pointed nipples.

 

“Hugnh!” The sharp, clinging pain in her compressed nubs merged with the relentless stabbing inside her rectum, and now she did squeeze out a couple of tears. She looked at him appealingly, for the first time verbally acknowledging the absolute control he held over her. “Please don’t make me do this, I can’t take it anymore.”

 

“Ah, the youth of today, absolutely no stamina.” Mr. Tanner said, smiling with his mouth open so wide that Emma could see his black fillings. “Well, Emma my sweet, I’m afraid to inform you that you are no longer a part of today’s society. From here on, you are mere chattel whose sole purpose in life is to do my bidding. If you think this is bad, then you are going to be in for a rude shock in the weeks and months to come."

 

For emphasis, he grabbed the feather duster and pushed it, causing Emma to yelp in agony, and in this way he maneuvered her back up the stairs. Emma blinked back tears of wretchedness as she waddled awkwardly and painfully along the passageway. She felt as though the duster’s handle was going to come out through her stomach as Mr. Tanner wiggled it around her stretched anus!

 

The old lecher steered Emma into her bathroom and said, “Start again, going from room to room, wiggling that cute little tush of yours until I tell you to stop.”

 

“I’m begging you, stop doing this now! I’ll do anything, I swear!” Emma said, even as she turned around, bent her knees, and began swiveling her hips so that the duster wiped over the top of the toilet seat.

 

“As I keep having to explain,” Mr. Tanner sighed, “you will do anything because you haven’t got any choice in the matter. But I’m getting rather tired of your protestations, so from now on, you will cease and desist with your banal chatter. No more complaining. In fact, I have an idea to keep that busy mouth of yours occupied – while you are working, you can hum nursery rhymes. The choices will be all yours, but they have to vary, and they may only be nursery rhymes, none of that crap you teenagers listen to on the radio.”

 

Nursery rhymes! This was just getting weirder and weirder! But as insulting and degrading as his latest request was, it came as no surprise to Emma now as she began to hum the first bars of Pop Goes the Weasel!

 

“How lovely,” Mr. Tanner beamed. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

 

And with that he was gone, leaving Emma dressed in her stiflingly tight corset, crotchless bloomers, knee-length socks and granny boots, a mop cap on her head, clothes pegs squeezing her nipples, and a feather duster sticking out of her ass as she wiggled it back and forth whilst humming a silly children’s tune!

 

As she went about her uncomfortable, degrading, and purposeless chore, it was not lost on Emma that she was subconsciously choosing the songs that she was softly humming – Humpty Dumpty, Jack and Jill, Little Miss Muffet , all apparently long-lost memories from her childhood, now rushing back to the surface. He hadn’t mentioned any of these rhymes by name, merely suggesting that she pick them herself, and it was her automatic choices that made her feel as if she was somehow collaborating in her own humiliation! This was it, then. A hint, a couple of words, and off she went – or rather, her treacherous body did – like a robot on autopilot, doing precisely what she was told.

 

Again, with nothing else to do except hum these puerile songs and rotate her hips, Emma’s mind gnawed away at the awful implications of what was happening to her. In this subservient state, Mr. Tanner could make her do absolutely anything, which could even mean forcing her into marriage – hadn’t he already said something about them living as man and wife? That might even involve bearing his children! She had a sudden image of herself, overweight and haggard after having given birth to half a dozen kids – all resembling him – while she demurely went about her housewife’s duties! And if he could make her degrade herself like this in such a short space of time, there would be no limit to the depths he could take her to. Even suicide wouldn’t be a way out unless he authorized it.

 

Still humming quietly, Emma moved from room to room, occasionally catching a glimpse of herself whenever she passed a mirror or glass reflection, and each time quickly averting her eyes. She looked absolutely absurd, and quite suddenly, the injustice of it all welled up inside her. Enough was enough, and it was time to take control of her own bodily functions again!

 

First of all, she had to remove that wickedly intruding duster from her sore rectum. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, told herself to be still, and then moved her hands around behind her back. Using every ounce of her willpower, she visualized herself gripping the wooden stick and easing it out of her body. But nothing happened. Her hands simply wouldn’t obey her, and instead she kept on humming – Sing a Song of Sixpence, now – and continued to pivot her rump, wiping imaginary dust off a chair.

 

The pegs, then. Let’s start with them.

 

She raised her right hand and, to her utter amazement and joy, she had absolutely no trouble at all in pulling the peg off her flattened nipple! Of course! Now she understood! Mr. Tanner hadn’t told her to keep the pegs in place, he had merely attached them himself without any verbal confirmation! But he had asked her to impale herself on the duster, and until he suggested that she could remove it, there it would remain.  Obviously then, her conditioning was verbally specific, and she would have to pay special attention to his exact words in the future.

 

Emma was just about to remove the other peg, when she had a sudden chilling thought. Bearing in mind the total domination Mr. Tanner currently held over her, if he was to discover that she had defied him, he would be certain to exact further punishment. So even though she had scored this minor victory, she was still trapped in a situation where it was better to follow his orders than risk angering him!

 

With an exasperated sob, Emma clipped the peg back onto her aching teat. Miserably, she had to accept that there was absolutely nothing she could do to fight this for now, and that her best course of action would be to humor the cruel pervert until she could somehow find a way out of this nightmare.

 

And so her night continued, dressed in her ridiculous outfit, wandering torturously from room to room, her feet, legs and back, aching terribly, her impaled rectum throbbing constantly, her restricted breathing coming in short gasps, as she progressed seamlessly from one moronic nursery rhyme to the next.

 

In a few short hours, this man whom she new nothing about whatsoever, had transformed her into a simpleton, willing and ready to act upon the slightest of insinuations. Quite suddenly, her life had been ruthlessly taken out of her control. Based on what he had told her earlier, Mr. Tanner had no intention of letting her out of his grasp, and judging from what he had come up with so far, her immediate future was looking decidedly bleak.

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

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