(Originally posted as a $3/story exclusive to my Patreon on January 14,
2017. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and
stories!)

She had stood for almost an hour at
the bottom of the stairs, looking up. Behind her was the mansion of Mas–of the
man who’d had her kidnapped. A massive, sprawling complex of buildings,
inhabited by one man and dozens of women–maids, mostly, but also a lawyer, an
accountant, several dancers, and a chauffeur.

And her. The lady of the house. As
much a prisoner as any of the others. She’d been kept locked in a room for days
while static hissed from hidden speakers, making it hard to think. Phrases like
“I obey” and “Obedience is pleasure” would pop into her
head at seemingly random times. She knew she was being programmed.

And then Mas–then he’d let her out,
and begun treating her like a guest. More than a guest, he was trying to
impress her, win her over. Fancy meals, fine wines, beautiful dresses, her
every need catered to by his armies of maids. But on the first day, when she’d
allowed the maids to make her over before dining with the Ma–the man–they’d lowered
a helmet over her head that filled her vision with swirling spirals and her
ears with thought-deadening static.

And it felt good. Really
good. After three days they started letting her wander around the house alone,
as long as she showed up for her daily regimen–hair, makeup, brainwashing. And
she did, because what else could she do? And anyway, it really did feel good…
After a week she found herself dreaming about it at night, when she wasn’t
dreaming about–him. But that was the last straw. She had to escape, while she
could still want to escape.

It took every ounce of will she had,
but she managed to take a step forward and up. After that, every step became
easier. By the third flight of stairs she was exhausted–climbing was not easy
in this dress, or these heels!–but she kept going, her mind getting clearer as
she rose higher.

And then she turned the corner,
started climbing the last staircase, and saw–him, standing at the top of the
stairs, his arms folded. “Leaving so soon, my love?” he asked.

The words echoed in her ears. My
love my love my love my love… At the sound of her trigger, her eyes
slowly emptied, her mouth drooped slowly open.

The Master sighed as he collected
her. She’d been so close! Almost complete surrender! But clearly he had failed
once again to hit that delicate balance between enough independence to ensure
she could interact with him as a quasi-equal, and enough control to ensure she
would fulfill the role he desired. Ah well, he knew what to do with failed
brides.

He’d have her fitted for a maid’s
uniform in the morning. Until then, back to the brainwashing chamber…

–

Model: “Tanya”

Photographer: Anna Bunski

Source: 500px