The Exhibit, Part 3, Just the Facts

Synopsis: At the inn in Her Realm, MzDominica demonstrated Her glass-covered sensory deprivation chamber, showing how the use of Her Voice as a subliminal soundtrack could be used to program slaves' minds to obey her, so very deeply. Mistress Black, who owns a chain of spas, made a deal with Dominica, to use the "relaxation chambers" to expand her business, getting chambers at a discount, in exchange for using them to recruit more slaves for Dominica. The problem is, fewer and fewer new slaves have been reporting to Dominica's mountain community -- and Mistress wants to know why!

* * * * *

Part 3: Just the Facts

Sean's cell phone rang. He answered and heard the brief message.

"This is 27. You must obey Dominica. Execute protocol 77."

He replied, "I must obey Dominica. It will be done." Then he disconnected, and one by one, he selected two speed dial numbers. For each one, he waited for an answer, then relayed the message. "This is 27. You must obey Dominica. Execute protocol 77." From the other end came the reply, "I must obey Dominica. It will be done."

Thus, one slave called two. And two slaves called four. And soon, over 500 slaves were notified. Notified that an investigation needed to be made. Facts needed to be found.

Sean made another phone call, to the "Rest and Re-Creation" spa he had visited before, and he made an appointment for the next day. For a haircut, and for an hour in the "decompression chamber." As a service manager, his schedule was flexible -- unlike many others. Not all of them would be making appointments for the next day, or even two. But within the week, all 483 of the franchises across the country would be visited, by one of MzDominica's slaves. By a slave who had been captured by her Voice, and the slow dripping of Her pee into his mouth.

The name "Sean" hardly meant anything to him now. He was simply one of Dominica's slaves, continually obsessed with serving Her... with returning to Her farming community, up in the mountains -- Her Realm. Aching for that state of complete mindlessness that took away all responsibility, all care, all thought. The slave found his cock getting hard again, as he recalled guiding a plow across a field, feeling with every step the soft skin of Mistress thighs, seeing Her eyes glowing, staring into his. He smiled, knowing he would soon have time for a short vacation, and could drive up there to serve Her again.

But for now, he was Sean -- and he had already forgotten about the phone message. At least, his conscious mind was unaware of it. He knew simply that his hair was getting a little shaggy, and some time in "the tank" would be a nice, relaxing break from his daily routine.

* * * * * *

The waterfall was huge. Like a panorama of Niagara Falls, that Sean had seen in photographs -- except all the "water" was yellow. Second by second, millions of gallons of MzDominica's pee rushed down between the river banks, flowed over the lip of an unseen cliff, and cascaded through the air a thousand feet to the river below. Sean inhaled the scent, a smell at once pungent and aromatic -- as though Mistress' pee had been mixed with a perfume, sweet and flowery. Like lilacs. So strange. He breathed slowly and deeply, unable to get enough of the sharp, florid scent. And his mouth felt so wet. Saliva threatened to dribble down his chin, if he allowed his excitement to make him lose control and open his mouth -- open it to pant, gasping for air, because he was so aroused. Needing to breathe, inhale the scent of Mistress' pee and open his mouth to swallow. To kneel at the base of the waterfall, lean his head back, and feel Mistress' urine force itself between his open lips, down his throat, into his belly. Filling him. So warm. Sticky like syrup. Slick, like water. Yellow and acrid and flowery. Sean began to shake. To shiver. Craving to open his mouth. Craving to open it wide -- and drink, drink, drink, feeling Mistress' pee flow into him, gallon after gallon, while he knelt in a river of Her pee, washed in Her yellow fluids, wet and mindless, and shaking with ecstasy.

"Hold still a moment," Soleil said, snipping around Sean's ears, trying to get that perfect, rounded cut, shaping his hair as she did, so carefully.

Sean opened his eyes, but still felt like he was wet, drifting... streams of yellow fluid washing past his arms, his chest, his legs. He looked up at the hair dresser, shaking a little because a woman had given him a command. Only one woman really mattered in his life, but Sean's conditioning had made him so obedient to ALL women, he looked up at Soleil adoringly, helplessly -- even though she was only nineteen, and a little ditzy.

The hairdresser caught his gaze for a moment -- he looked so sweet and helpless and cute! What was it about the guys who came for haircuts in this place? They were all like such helpless little puppy dogs! She wanted to cuddle him and hug him, and take him home! Soleil suddenly blushed, when she realized that her panties felt warm and wet, and she realized what she wanted to do with this little puppy, sitting in the barber chair before her. She covered by reaching down to the table for the hand mirror, and lifting it in front of the guy's face. "There, how does that look?" she asked -- feeling her nipples harden even as she spoke. Oh, he looked so adorable!

Sean gazed into the mirror, not quite seeing himself. Thinking only of the huge waterfall of Mistress' pee, and gazing up into Her eyes as he knelt at Her feet, face uplifted, mouth open. Awaiting Her pleasure. Awaiting Her liquid blessing. He found it so very hard to bring himself to the present, to pretend to inspect his haircut, lift a hand and brush it over one side. "Looks good," he muttered, hoping he wouldn't need to say anything more cogent.

Soleil smiled, disengaging from the guy's puppy dog gaze. "Looks good," they ALL said. Yes, men WERE all alike! Oh, but for a moment there, "all alike" meant helpless little puppies, and she had wanted to take care of this one so much! Soleil quieted her breathing... paused a moment... then turned and undid the safety pin at the guy's neck, then whipped the little barber sheet away, smiling her usual plastic smile -- the one that seemed to bring the biggest tips. "Thank you," she said, "I'm glad you like it!" Before the guy could reply, Soleil felt -- rather than saw -- the receptionist just behind her.

"Sean?" the receptionist said, "You're in luck! We've had a cancellation. If you'd like, we can put you in the decompression chamber right away!"

Sean looked from one woman to the other, still so deep in his pee fantasy, he was not sure who had spoken. "That would be great," he replied. He stood up, in a daze, and followed the woman with the little clip board.

Soleil watched as the receptionist led her customer toward the back hallway, pouting a little. Another moment, and she would have been able to stroke his cheek before he stood up -- pretending to straighten a stray hair or two. That almost always brought an extra dollar tip. Now, she could only hope he would even remember her, when he signed the credit slip. She smiled a little, though, remembering that puppy dog look, and the tightness of her nipples -- as she brushed off the barber chair, and straightened up things, preparing for her next customer.

Sean followed the receptionist, watching her hips sway left and right, trying not to be noticed staring at her ass, at her legs, as he walked down the hallway, following her. Drifting and horny at the mere thought of the "decompression chamber," and how much he wanted to be there. Images of the huge, yellow waterfall again entered his mind, the sound of roaring "water" filling his ears. The receptionist brought Sean to the end of the hallway, where a woman stood, wearing a white uniform -- looking almost like a nurse. Maybe in her mid-thirties. She wore a badge with her name on it, that identified her as "Tree." Sean smiled, looking at the name. Still floating and drifting with the image of that huge, yellow waterfall.

"This is Tree," the receptionist said. As if Sean couldn't read. "She'll be your relaxation technician for this afternoon. Tree, this is Sean." She handed Tree the clipboard, with Sean's past appointments on it, smiled, and returned to the store front.

"Hello Sean," Tree said. Oh yes, she could tell he'd been in the relaxation chamber before. This one was having trouble focusing on the here and now, clearly anticipating being in the isolation chamber again. Tree smiled -- she knew he wouldn't be much for conversation. They were all so cute like this. So obedient and tractable. She carefully guided him toward the big, glass enclosure, tilted at a 90-degree angle to the floor, so he could simply stand in front of it while she adjusted his clothing, and prepared him. Slipping the white noise headphones over his ears, the blindfold over his eyes, the drip tubing into his mouth. The straps to hold him in place. Yes, even the little sleeve inside his pants. After the first time in, they simply let you attach things, without question. Very professionally, Tree slipped her hand inside Sean's pants, wrapped the tube around his cock. Already hard. Tree smiled, and NOT so professionally gave his cock a gentle stroke, knowing this one would never remember. She checked that everything was in place, and then slowly closed the glass cover, locking Sean inside the coffin-like chamber, and pressed the switch to tilt it back to 45 degrees. Then she flipped the switch to activate the chamber, and set the timer for three hours.

Tree always liked how blank and empty they looked afterward. And she enjoyed just watching them, while they dropped deep into mindlessness, as the sensory deprivation relaxed their minds so utterly. She went to the back room, to brew herself a cup of tea, so she could return, sip contentedly and watch... "Sean" -- that was it... watch him, and make sure he was okay, the entire time.

Sean could not remember anything from the moment he rose from the barber chair, till now. Lying/standing in the "relaxation chamber," visions of yellow waterfalls washing through his mind. The rush of white noise in his ears reminded him of those waterfalls. And, though he was unaware of it, his ears strained to hear MzDominica's Voice mixed in with those waterfalls, to taste Her flowery, acrid pee dripping onto his tongue, drop by drop, as Her Voice programmed him deeper and deeper.

But deeply quiet and mindless as he was, Sean's brain was busy. Listening for MzDominica's Voice. Searching for the sharp taste of Her pee. And all his ears heard... was static. All his tongue tasted... was water.

Patiently, quietly, Sean lay in the "relaxation chamber." Without smell, without taste, without light. With no sound but a consistent, patternless rushing. With no touch, but the gentle stroking of the sleeve on his hard cock. Minute after lost minute. Hour after lost hour.

When he returned home, Sean pressed a different speed dial button on his cell phone. He waited, until he heard the answer.

"Hello, Slave..." in MzDominica's Voice -- though he knew it was a recording

Sean spoke quickly, and simply. "Protocol 77 report -- i am nothing, nothing at all."

"Protocol 77 complete," the Voice replied. "Good Slave." The phone disconnected.

Sean knelt on the floor. His cock suddenly grew erect inside his pants, and his sperm erupted from the tip of his cock, wetting his pants, while he gasped in ecstasy, drooling on the floor, cumming over and over again. His reward... for total obedience.

* * * * * *

In Her mansion, MzDominica watched, as Her naked accountant crawled across the floor to Her feet, and bowed his head to the floor, waiting to be acknowledged, waiting for instructions. She extended Her left, booted foot. "Kiss My toes, slave," She commanded. The accountant obediently kissed her left boot. Then She extended Her right boot, and he kissed that also. Then he returned his forehead to the floor, awaiting Mistress' next order.

"Report, slave," Dominica commanded.

"Please, Mistress, i beg You not to be angry with the messenger, for i bring bad news!" The accountant shook, frightened about displeasing his Mistress.

"You will be rewarded or punished as I please, slave," MzDominica replied. "Now, your report! Or I shall be angry!"

"All slaves reported NOTHING Mistress. No sound of Your Voice. No taste of Your pee."

"As I expected," Mistress said.

"Please, Mistress, have mercy!" the accountant sobbed.

"You should know better than to think I will punish you for reporting the truth, slave!" Dominica replied. "So that you will NOT forget, I will reward you for telling Me what I need to know, even though it is displeasing."

"Thank You, Mistress!" the accountant cried, still kneeling with his head to the floor.

"Cum!" Dominica commanded. "Cum NOW, slave! Cum, and cum and cum! STOP!!!"

The accountant's cock spurted, over and over, spilling his hot sperm onto the hardwood floor, under him as he knelt and moaned with pleasure.

"Now, slave, lick your cum off the floor. Swallow it." She watched as he did so, hands still at his sides, palms to the floor. "Good slave!" She said. "Dry the floor with your hair." He pushed the top of his head over the floor, cleaning up every remaining drop of moisture. "Now, return to your office, while I think about what to do with... Mistress Black."

"Yes, Mistress," the accountant gasped. He crawled back to his office, through the tiny slave door that connected his office to Hers.

Head to the floor, still shaking, the slave was unable to watch, as MzDominica's face curled up into a wry grin. A plan was forming in Her clever mind. A very satisfying plan indeed.

* * * * * *

Sounds to me like Mistress Black might be in trouble! Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!

More to come, later!