My name is Naz. That much I know. But who am I, beyond a name? I have no idea. But that isn't right, is it? People know who they are, don't they? Sure they do...I think. So why don't I?
A mirror tells me some things. I'm a woman. I'm attractive...that's subjective, I guess, but I'd personally find someone else who looks like this attractive. I'm short, slender, and well proportioned. My hair is straight, black, and down to my neck. My complexion is smooth, my skin tone dark.
I'm wearing a white tank top and navy leggings. I won't say they don't flatter my figure because, well, they do. I'm not wearing anything on my feet. That's also a good look for me, oddly enough. Or not odd at all, who knows? No, I feel like it is odd. I feel like I'm the kind of girl with a closet full of shoes and drawers full of socks, tights, and stockings. But am I? If I was, wouldn't I be wearing some? This isn't the beach or a pool, or even a park, so why am I barefoot?
Until I can answer those questions, I need to focus on what I know. And what I know is my name and what I can see in front of me. Yeah, it's superficial. But it's all I have. I don't have a wallet or phone. I don't have keys or remember a car or address they'd go to. But I know that keys go to cars and homes, and I know that most people have those things.
This is weird. And I don't know how to fix it. I just don't remember anything. Well, no, that's not entirely true. I remember knowing...I just don't remember what I knew. What happened to me? It's almost there, whatever caused this. It's like a dream that I didn't write down, slipping away the more I chase it.
Maybe if I don't try, it'll come back to me. Maybe if I relax and think of something else, or just let my mind wander, I'll be able to recapture it. What else can I do? So here I go, not trying. La, la, la, la, la...mm, mm, mm, mm, mmmm….
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It worked. I can remember...at least some things. Not who I am, but what happened to me. Some of what happened to me, anyway.
The farthest back I can go is sitting in a chair. It's some kind of recliner. My legs are raised up. I'm wearing the same clothes, and my feet are bare. Maybe not wearing shoes is normal for me. No, I feel like it isn't. Weird.
But no, not weird compared to the rest of it: I can't move. My head, torso, arms, and legs are immobilized. Thick metal bands hold me in place. All I can do is open and close my fists, and wiggle my toes. I do both as I try my hardest to break free. No luck. I'm held fast.
The chair and I are illuminated by a bright light overhead. I can't raise my head high enough to see its source. Everything else is shrouded in darkness. I am totally scared and freaked out. I call out for help. Many times. No one answers. What the hell is going on? Why am I here? Why am I a captive? Who are my captors? What do they want?
Then it gets weirder. And worse.
From behind my head, I hear a hum. It grows louder, and I can sense movement. I feel something move down over my head. It cradles my scalp. It's snug, like a helmet. Then, the sensations start.
First, there's gentle pressure as if dozens of fingers are pressing against my head. Next, there's tickling. The tickling doesn't make me want to laugh, just squirm. I want to get away from it, but of course I can't. It grows more intense. I cry out. I beg for it to stop. I plead for my release. Nope. It keeps going. Keeps increasing. I scream. I keep screaming. It's relentless. It's driving me insane. It's--
Over. It stops. Dead. My screams subside to whimpers. Then I sigh in relief. But my relief isn't just from the lack of tickling. It takes me a moment to realize that...I feel something new. The pressure from the "fingers" is still there, but instead of tickling, it's more like a massage. A soothing massage. Across my whole head, no...all over my body.
It's unlike anything I've ever felt. It's better than anything I've ever felt. No touch, drink, or drug has ever given me this much pleasure. I can't think. I'm losing myself to it. I've lost myself to it. Don't let it stop. Don't let it ever stop.
What is that? A voice? Asking me questions? Of course I'll answer. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don't stop this feeling. Statements now? Demands? Sure. I'll listen. I'll consent. I'll agree. Just, please, don't stop. Submission? Obedience? Yes, yes. I will submit. I will obey. Whatever you want for the pleasure to continue.
Remember what you tell me? Yes, master. Anything for the pleasure. Forget all else? Yes, yes. I will. Forget who I am? Yes. Forget my na--
What? What happened? The voice has stopped. And the pleasure is gone. No! The light above me has gone out. The metal bands have released. I...don't understand. I hear other voices. Loud, rushed, jumbled voices. They shout words and phrases that I recognize but don't quite comprehend:
Power outage...system failure...prisoners escaping...recapture them...or hell to pay....
I want the pleasure to return. I'll listen to the first voice again to get it. I'll submit, I'll obey. But the feeling is gone. Neither it, nor the voice comes back.
And neither do the things I knew before but can't remember now.
I climb out of the chair. I stumble through the dark. The other voices grow distant. I keep walking until I finally find...a door. It opens. I go through it. Daylight blinds me.
Maybe I black out, or maybe I just wander in a daze. I don't remember waking up, but eventually my senses return to me.
So, here I am. I've remembered what happened to me, even if I don't understand it. Along with my name, I know that much now. If I'd been in that chair under that helmet any longer, I don't think I'd even know my name anymore. I was willing to forget it. Wow! That pleasure was so overwhelming that I was willing to give up my own name, and everything else that made me who I am.
Something else comes back to me: I don't know who did it. Or why. But I know what they were doing. The person I called master--who I was willing to submit to, obey, and forget everything for--was brainwashing me.
I've been brainwashed. Maybe not all the way. I got away before they finished with me. But not before I lost everything but my name. So what do I do? Can I shake this off? Can I make myself remember more? What if I can't? Where do I go? Who will help me?
Huh? You'll help me? Who are you? Do I know you? I do? No, your name doesn't ring a bell. But then, nothing does. I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror. You've been looking for me? You can take me home? Well, that sounds good. I hope it's not far. I'm not wearing shoes, as you can see.
By the way...do I normally wear shoes? Why are you laughing? I really don't remember. I don't remember anything. What do you mean, I ask too many questions? Ow! What the hell was that? Did you just give me...a shot? Let me go! No! You're not a friend of mine! You're the one...the one who was...was brain...washinggg...meeeeee….
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Utter blackness falls away as I open my eyes. Stark white light replaces it. As my vision adjusts to it, a nightmarish site greets me: I see my arms, body, and outstretched legs covered by metal restraints. I clench my fists and scrunch my toes. No other movement is possible.
Then I hear the familiar hum behind me. Next comes the pressure over my head. I steel myself against the maddening onslaught of tickling. But prepared or not, there's nothing I can do. It starts, and my screams begin soon after.
At last, my torture ends again. Now I both dread and yearn for what comes next. The pleasure will erase all that's left of me. I'll know nothing. Remember nothing. I'll be completely brainwashed. My master will control me. Yet the memory of that ecstasy makes me tremble in anticipation despite myself.
I feel the first caresses of the massaging fingers. Ahhh. The feeling grows and spreads. All tension and anxiety drain away from me. Ohhh. Don't let it stop. Don't let it ever stop. Submission? Obedience? Yes, yes. I will submit. I will obey. Whatever you want for the pleasure to continue. Remember what you tell me? Yes, master. Anything for the pleasure. Forget all else? Yes, yes. I will. Forget who I am? Yes. Forget my name? I have no name, master. Let me feel the pleasure, master, and I am yours to control forever….
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My name is...slave. That much I know. That and whatever else my master tells me.