May cannot remember how she got here. It's the first thing on her mind, the worrisome note that surpasses all other thought. She's confined by rounded white walls and a ceiling that's only six inches from her face. The space beneath her is solid and padded, and her head rests on a thick, marshmallow-esque pillow. She lifts her arms tentatively - there's something that pulls near the bend of her elbow; it's warm, tight, and pinches. It's like May moves in slow motion as she tries to control her body. If she ever wondered what a coffin felt like, May guesses this is a close approximation.
But do coffins usually come with this weird humming sound? It's buzzing behind, in front of, and on either side of May. If she strains, there's someone speaking just underneath waves of static and a sort of repeated clicking. When May thinks she can make it out, the background noise grows and the voice is lost. It gets harder to understand the more she tries, like the static fills her brain more than the room (if it can be called that).
When May has the humming all but tuned out, she squeezes her eyes shut and is determined to fall asleep. Maybe it feels like she's underwater because she's dreaming. It's happened before. So she lets her thoughts go and tries to drift, hoping her brain will restart and she'll come back to reality in a couple hours. As she tries to relax, images and sounds bounce around her head. Moaning, obedience, fingers poised to snap, cold glasses of milk. She doesn't try to make sense of them, but allows the scenes to wash over her.
May's as close to unconscious as she can be when a bright, horizontal crack of light appears on her right. The lid of her enclosure lifts and she's blinded by the space around her. She winces and tries to cover her eyes, but her body is still slow to answer her. Great. The dream isn't over.
"Woah there, girl," a gentle, southern voice soothes her. "You've got a lot of energy, huh?"
It sure doesn't feel like it as May struggles to sit up. The room comes into focus slowly, and she finds a still small space of sterile white walls and tile. The man eyeing her over her isn't someone she recognizes, but looks kind all the same. He has gentle brown eyes, soft blonde hair, and a five o' clock shadow that fits his plaid shirt tucked into bell bottom jeans. His cowboy boots bring May back to the present; Vic gave her the card for Shaw Farms – this place where they make girls disappear.
"Who are you?" May slurs, her mouth not following instruction, either.
The man cocks a half-smile and talks more to himself than to her. "They said you'd be a fighter. Never had one come awake so quick, let alone ask me questions. Alrighty, girl. Up you go."
He drags a step stool to her side, and hoists May upright. The man swings her legs over the side, and steadies May as he helps her down. The tile is cold under May's bare feet, and the air hits her bare legs with a shiver. May forces her eyes to her own body and finds herself in a tight white t-shirt and paper thin matching shorts.
May tries to ask, "Can I have some socks?" but the man shushes her before she can finish.
"Come on now, Essie. Let's get this IV before you rip it out."
He takes May's arm between his own and his body, an angle that prevents May from seeing what's done or moving it while he works. She feels a release and the familiar sense of a bandage removed, and it's over. He guides her toward a door and opens it with his key card. May tries to file this new knowledge away. She never knows when she might need it.
They're walking down the hallway before May can process it. People in lab coats and familiar pink scrubs pass her by, none of them sparing her a second glance. Their heads are bowed over paperwork or they stare dead ahead with no recognition, making their way as quickly as they can. May doesn't see any other girls like her, but if no one stops them, she figures this must be normal procedure.
They swing into another room the man must unlock. He sets her down in front of a low table, so low that she sits on the ground rather than in a chair. May's vision is clearing up and her body becoming more stable the farther she is from that IV. The man is at a counter on the far side of the room, rearranging things. He picks up what May recognizes as VR goggles and starts preparing them. She notices a lanyard hanging from his neck, now. His keycard is attached, as well as a small plastic box. May has no idea what it does, but isn't sure she wants to know. She tries to ignore the rectangular metal structure and its harnesses in the middle of the room, unsure of how a person would be positioned inside it.
The man is called to her side of the room by a knock at the door. He opens it to another aid in pink scrubs. "Her breakfast, Tommy."
"Thanks, Reid. And don't worry, usually she'll eat in her room. This is just for today."
Reid nods and gives Tommy a smile. "No problem, man. See you around."
Tommy says goodbye and turns to May with a plastic pink cafeteria tray in hand. He takes it to his counter without giving her another word. She watches as Tommy cracks three blue pills into a glass of milk, and shuffles around the remaining food. She clears her throat.
"Your name is Tommy?" she asks, her voice cracking.
Tommy doesn't acknowledge her. He comes back to her table with her breakfast and starts laying it out for her.
"Milk first," he instructs.
May looks at it skeptically. "What'd you put in it?"
Tommy doesn't answer, but lifts the glass to her lips. May hesitates, wondering what all would get her kicked out of the program. She keeps her mouth shut.
Tommy sighs. "We're doing this the hard way, huh?"
He reaches over and plugs May's nose, immediately popping a gasp from her lips, and tilts the drink into her mouth. She swallows her first gulp before backing away. Tommy deftly keeps the rest from spilling, and watches as May swishes the milk from cheek to cheek.
She swallows, rather than spit it on the floor.
"Not so bad?" Tommy asks, sighing. He puts the glass down. It stands beside a plate of eggs and bacon, ham, and hashbrowns. May's stomach rumbles.
Tommy laughs. "If you want the rest, you gotta finish what you started."
May feels the cool milk pass down her throat. It tastes completely normal, though she knows Tommy's added something. She scoots closer to him and the spread before her. May tries to find any other choice, particularly one that involves her still eating, and can't find one. Under Tommy's watchful eye, she gulps back the remaining drink.
He picks up the little box on his lanyard and presses down. A click echos through the room and runs a tingle up May's spine. "Good girl," he praises. May blushes involuntarily, squeezing her thighs together. She doesn't look at him as he pulls plastic silverware from behind his back.
"Now you can eat," Tommy says, passing a fork and knife off to her. May hurries through her breakfast, plowing through with speed and gratitude. It takes her all of twenty minutes while Tommy fiddles with his toys at the back counter. When she's finished, she knows there's something different about her. Something that feels easier, like a part of her has snapped into place. She tries to ignore it, this thing that is definitely Tommy's handiwork.
Tommy picks up her empty tray and sets it outside their door. He looks to May with a challenge in his eyes. "Up," he commands.
May is standing. She doesn't know when it happened, only that it did, and it was because Tommy told her to.
"Good girl," he says and presses his clicker. May feels tight, hot pleasure.
"Now, over here," Tommy calls, patting his thigh. May is at his side.
Again, she's praised with a click, and May feels another rush surge through her. She wants to chase this high as often as she can.
Tommy smiles. "That's right, that's right. Now, let's get these out of the way."
He goes to her back. The sound of velcro ripping rings in May's ears as he peels her white shirt away, leaving her exposed.
"Wait, no," May protests, clinging to the loose front of her top. "I don't understand."
"Your IV didn't do nothin', did it?" Tommy asks, rubbing his stubble in thought. "Alright, we can do this the other way. Undress."
May moves more slowly now, her brain adjusting to the order. Where her resistance lies outside of a command, it becomes nothing but soft, malleable will when given instruction. May blames those little blue pills, but surely, manages to drop her shirt and unfasten the velcro at the side of her shorts, allowing those to go as well. She gets two clicks this time, reinforcing that she follow directions and be naked.
Tommy strokes her hair, giving May pause as she revels in the feeling, and takes out his phone with the other hand. He taps through it with his thumb until he's holding one end to his mouth and muttering into the device. If May were thinking coherently in that moment, she might recognize it as Tommy recording notes on their session. Instead, Tommy stands beside the metal stand in the center of the room, and pats the bar jutting from its front.
"Put your chin here," he orders. May's body wipes any apprehensions she may have held as she gets herself into position, placing her jaw on the padded rest just as Tommy said. To do so, she has to crawl onto her hands and knees. Tommy tells May to stay still, and she does as he locks cuffs around her wrists and ankles. There's another padded support in the center, just under May's stomach, that keeps her standing as well. May gets a click for her behavior, and she stifles a soft moan.
Tommy's turned back to the counter as he records additional feedback. When he next faces May, he's carrying the VR headset and a couple syringes. May whimpers at the sight and earns another few pets of her hair before Tommy straps the goggles around her face, and a pair of headphones over her ears. He flicks a switch above her forehead and pale pink light swarms her vision.
She can barely make Tommy out over the thick, insulating cushion of the headphones. "EMT299 is locked in place, double-checking for secure cuffs around the stockade now. All good to go. Visual and audio stimuli is not one of the standard sets; she tests too low on the OSS for any of our regular tools. That's already obvious in her behavior, way more lucid than anyone we've had in here before. The hope is, a double shot of hormones this early on and the specialty script recorded by Shaw will break her. Would be nice for a success on day one, but, eh, unlikely. Plan past this is continuing double shots, upping the intensity of her night training and the dose in her IV, and keeping her on the compliance aids as often as we can just to get through her training smoothly. I have permission from Shaw to include physical stimuli in this first run-through, though obviously she won't reach completion until that last milking. Alright, I think that covers it. Starting up the set, 'Shaw V. EMT 001', right about now."
May is breathing heavily as he finishes talking, clearly with no regard for if she hears him or not. Her body's stiff with fear. Break her? Why would she need to be broken? Vic had to have no idea. He would never send May here if he knew it wasn't some random dairy farm in the middle of ass-nowhere Montana. And for the love of God, milking? It's not something she's ever thought of before, or something she's ever tried, but she knew it was a kink some of Vic's coworkers got stuck with. Honestly, she wanted to know why they enjoyed it or why they kept going back other than good money, but didn't have the guts to ask.
May doesn't have any more time to swirl around all she's heard. Tommy flips a switch on the side of her headphones, and they become noise-canceling. He presses a button near the front of the goggles, and a white spiral appears in the center of her screen, of her complete vision. Another, purple spiral is overlaid on top, and May doesn't know where to look. The screen is so bright that even with her eyes closed, spirals dance in her sight.
And then, a voice. It's familiar, but autotuned to be deeper. As it begins to speak, May is enraptured. It tells her to focus on her breathing, to take slow breaths in and slow breaths out. May does as she's told because it's all she can do to avoid a panic attack, anyway. The voice has her mellowed and steady when May notices the background effects. There's the same low hum from her dreams, the same click that Tommy gave her, and May knows she's wet. She has been, but now, with no where to go but the spiral and deep into the voice's induction, she feels it slick between her thighs. The voice, somehow, knows it too, and preys on that to keep her attention. At some point her own thoughts fade from focus, and all she has is the voice. She is tethered to the voice, and the voice replaces anything she might have stored in her own mind. The voice overwrites the pain she feels when two sharp stabs hit her asscheek one by one, and tells her it's all part of being a good, obedient, thoughtless girl. But is she a girl anymore? She's not sure. She might be something else, something less human. The voice asks May what her human name was.
She mumbles, "May. May, May Tucker."
The voice tells her she's right, what a good girl. And May can't help a big, dopey smile. But then, the voice tells her her new name. And that feels so much better. Her old name is gone, and her new name is all there ever was. May – Essie, knows this is true because the voice told her so, and the voice knows everything. The voice has Essie repeat her name over and over, like a mantra. Over and over. As the spirals are getting lighter, and the voice is getting gentler, Essie knows this is all she needs from this first trial. To accept her new name as the first piece of her new identity. And she wants to so very badly, but there's the little thread at the back of her mind that won't relent, one that feels the need to preserve herself as she was.
As the thread persists and Essie tries to wrestle it into the voice's script, she feels a warm hand between her legs. It rubs her thighs as she moans at the contact. She's the most sensitive she's ever been, and she knows it because that's what the voice tells her. The gentle hand strokes up and down her pussy languidly, as if it has all the time in the world. Essie tries to shift her weight, to sit back on its fingers and help it touch her all the more, but her restraints keep her locked in position. The voice tells her to feel the hand stroking away everything she used to be, that she can let it all go and be replaced by pleasure. The voice asks, is that what Essie wants? To put all those memories, all those associations with the past, behind her? Those memories hurt her, and made her want to run away. Here, she can be safe, and she can trust that Shaw Farms has her best interests at heart. No one will ever make her feel that way again. All she has to do is accept herself as Essie, and let May fall away.
And Essie pants softly as she feels the mindless drool pooling in her mouth. She huffs, "Yes," and feels the hand at her pussy speed up. It reaches forward and teases her clit, rubbing in quick circles that snip the last tether Essie held. "Yes, yes, yes," Essie pants.
The voice praises Essie over and over, telling her she's their good girl. The voice wraps Essie's empty mind in comfort as it tells her this is where she belongs and who she belongs to now. Shaw Farms is her present and her future. Shaw Farms is her everything, and Essie is more than happy to accept. The spirals slow to half their speed, and the purple overlay lightens from view. Essie whines as the hand comes away from her sensitive clit, and disappointment drops in her tummy. The voice tells her she has done such a good job, but they have more work to do. Essie will only cum when she's their good cow. And as much as Essie wants to please the voice and be whatever it wants her to be, a deep sense of shame brings her down from the voice's high.
This was wrong, this was all wrong. Essie's headphones click again, and the goggles come away from her face. She liked it all too much. She was losing herself. And she couldn't let that happen.