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Message-ID: <30003asstr$988074601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cats_sara@yahoo.com (Cat's sara)
Reply-To: cats_sara@yahoo.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2001 15:26:58 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} Harmonic Conversion 1 - FF, FD, MC - a Mistress Rochelle Story - Cat's sara
Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2001 21:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This story owes a debt of gratitude to a few of authors, not the
least of whom are trilby else and Tabico; trilby for his keen
insights as the stories progressed, and Tabico, for her ingenious
devices... thank you both very, very much.

- Sara

"If you are younger than eighteen years
Or sex is taboo for your neighborhood peers
If you are aghast at frank, sexual sleaze
Take your eyes elsewhere - immediately please."

Please ask permission before posting this story elsewhere. 

(c)2000 by Cat's sara

----

Harmonic Conversion

by Cat's sara

Categories: (FF, FD, MC)

----

I. Prelude - *Andante*

Cheryl was finishing up the last sample of the day, running a
resonance test on a new titanium alloy.  It was boring work. Most
nights, and tonight was no exception, she watched TV while the
computers did the real work, finding the harmonic resonance of
various shapes and sizes of different materials.

She was watching the shopping networks when she was startled by a
tentative knock at the door. Frowning slightly, she peered over at
the security monitor at the far end of the lab, and saw that it was
Keith, the IPS driver who brought her regular deliveries. She
quickly relaxed. Deliveries at nine o'clock were unusual, but not
unheard of.

She opened the door, smiled, and said, "Forget one this morning,
Keith?"

"Yes ma'am; I found it when I got back to the depot. It was so
small it must have gotten lost in the truck behind some bigger
packages."

"Well, don't worry... you've just extended my workday by a couple
of hours," she grimaced with mock anger. The truth was that she
didn't mind staying.... she liked her job very much, and a few more
hours wouldn't make a difference, anyway.

She signed the clipboard, and set the small box on a cart that was
sitting nearby. "Now, be a good boy Keith, and go *home*," she
joked, closing the door.

Returning to the shrill whine of the resonating titanium, she
turned up the TV a little to try and drown it out.

----

As Keith drove back to the IPS depot, his cell phone rang.
"Hello?" he said as he held the phone to his ear, puzzled at who
would be calling.

"Hello, *Rubberhead*," said the female voice on the other end of
the line.

Keith's face went blank as he responded, "Your slut obeys,
Mistress."

"Did you deliver the package I gave you, slut?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Did you use the fake signature sheet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy. Destroy it. You never delivered the package. You pulled
over for a moment and fell asleep, and no one must ever find out.
Do you understand, slut?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. I never called. There was no one on the phone. *Obedience
is pleasure.*"

Disgusted at the silent caller, Keith disconnected the call, and
then dismissed it as he thought about getting back to the docks.
*Jesus, it's a good thing I'm not the only driver coming in
late...* Tearing off the top signature sheet, he tore it into
confetti and threw it out the window a little at a time, over the
next two miles. Then yawning, he dialed his wife.

"Hi Barbara... no, just a late night... I'll be home in about
forty-five minutes... okay, love you too, sweetheart... yes, of
course I would love for you to fuck me in the ass tonight... Hmm?
After I lick your boots? Certainly, my Queen... you, too... kisses."

Keith smiled happily to himself. *God, it's so nice to have a
normal marriage. So many people these days think a man should...
fuck his wife,* he thought, as he shivered in revulsion and
clenched his asshole in anticipatory pleasure.

*Whatever happened to traditional values?*

----

II. Allemande - *Allegro*

Cheryl turned off the powerful transonic resonators and put the
titanium back in the sample drawer. So far it had proven to be the
most impervious to vibration, and with a little luck, the folks at
Randeyer Aviation would be *very* happy with the results.

Turning to the new package, she opened it. Despite her
professional persona, she still had a childlike sense of curiosity.
She had been wondering what it was since it arrived.

It turned out to be a two-inch long sliver of amber. She wasn't
sure why she would be given something so insubstantial to test, but
hers was not to question why, hers was just to... well, load the
resonance chamber and start the computer. *I'll be glad when this
phase is over and I get to do some real work again,* she thought,
mildly frustrated.

Once she had set it up, she turned on the high intensity lights.
She looked a little more intently at it and was startled to see
that it had taken on a weird sort of "glow", as if the air was
foggy around it. Dismissing it as lack of sleep, she turned back to
the computer and started the routine.

Then, it was, for better or worse, back to the shopping channels.

Cheryl turned up the volume on the TV a little more. The whine
from the resonance chamber was much louder this time, and sort of
thin sounding. Odd. She listened more closely as the machine
calibrated itself to the natural resonance of the amber. It was as
if the vibrations hit right against her skin... and then eased
deeper into her. She felt alarmed, but thought better of getting up
to check. There was nothing she could do, short of a risky program
abortion, until the computers shut down.

Then, she noticed that the TV was looking strange, too. The people
showing jewelry on the screen were getting wavy. No, not wavy...
putting off colored waves that matched the keening amber. She
realized through increasingly muddled thoughts that something was
terribly wrong and stood to abort the program.

It took a dazed moment to realize that she was continuing to sit
perfectly still.

Fear gripped her as she found that she couldn't budge, that her
brain was not moving her muscles. She *felt* the sound inside her
skull, wrapping around the crevices of her mind. Pulling tighter.
As the sound filled every empty nook and cranny, she fought the
waves as they invaded her thoughts and began to pulse.

*Ihavetohurryand....... getuptoturnoff.......
shutdownthetestbeforeI....... losethewhateverit.......
thinkthinkthink........graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.........*

As her brain fell into line with the high pitched monotone of the
vibrating amber, her eyes grew wide and stared blankly, almost as
if they were unable to see. Cheryl looked raptly at the TV screen.

Occasionally a convulsive jerk passed quickly through her
otherwise motionless body. Inside her mind, there was no thought,
no motion at all.

----

*"...order NOW!!!"*

Cheryl, her face slack, eyes glued to the TV, picked up the phone
and ordered her fourth pair of ruby earrings. Robotically she
recited her name, address, credit card number, and the offer
number. Hanging up the phone, her attention returned to the screen.

*"These ruby earrings are some of the most beautiful I've seen,
Brian, and you know... rubies are classic gemstones..."*

Cheryl knew that they were the most beautiful earrings she had
ever seen.

*"That's right, Betsy, and this has to be one of the best values
we've ever had here at Domestic Shoppers Club... I just have to
encourage our viewers to call in now and buy a pair-- there are
only eighty left, and they are going fast!"*

*"You know, Brian, that I've bought four pairs myself! I'm giving
them to everyone on my Christmas list this year!"*

*"Hahaha! I think our viewers should buy a pair for everyone they
know! We're down to seventy pairs of earrings remaining, and at
only 250 dollars a set for this once-in-a-lifetime bargain that
will never be repeated! Order NOW!!!!!"*

Cheryl ordered all seventy.

And then, motionless again, Cheryl eagerly waited for her next
command. And her next command... and her next...

Cheryl did not notice the female form that quietly slipped into
the lab and watched her focused display with playful intensity,
whispering words to her in between the television's relentless
assault.

Finally, the room was silent, except for the sound of the
television still playing. Cheryl, still feeling dazed, looked at
the clock. Two A.M.! She tried to collect her thoughts, but they
were still buzzing with the sound of the resonating sliver of
golden power. She tried to grasp what had happened, but the details
were slipping away like the clouds of dreams in sunshine.

She remembered that she had ordered over 12,000 dollars worth of
jewelry... but she didn't feel any remorse at all. It was what she
was supposed to do, after all. It was such a bargain that no one in
her right mind would pass up this amazing one-time opportunity to
own such a beautiful collection of precious gemstones, offered at
near manufacturer's cost, and only to her, a Domestic Shoppers Club
Member, for a limited time.

When these were gone, there would be no more. She felt the grim
conviction in her thoughts at the remembered warning.

She had done very, very well.

----

III. Sarabande - *Adagio Misterioso*

She looked over and was alarmed to see a strange woman standing at
the computer. Then it came to her through the fogginess of her
thoughts that it was only her associate, Rochelle, who was in the
process of removing a pair of earplugs. *So silly of me not to
recognize my... my...* Cheryl struggled. *...longtime friend and co-
worker,* came the strangely formal recognition, slowly bubbling to
the surface.

Rochelle turned around and smiled. Cheryl immediately felt foolish
for her moment of disorientation. "Jeez, Rochelle, I thought you
were a burglar or something!" she laughed, letting her discomfort
float away.

"Wow, you must have really been out of it," said Rochelle, concern
showing on her face. "You weren't really asleep, but you sure
seemed zoned. How come?"

"Something happened with the resonance test on that piece of
amber... not sure what. I was worried for a minute, but then I sort
of got involved in the TV." Cheryl got a distant look in her eye
for a brief moment, and then continued. "Actually, it was kind of
nice... I haven't felt so well rested in months."

"Weird. Well, I'm going out to grab a snack... I brought you a
video to watch, though. It's really good... I know it's boring just
sitting watching computers cogitate."

"You can say that again, girlfriend! But I guess that means you
think I should run the test over, huh?" queried Cheryl.

"Yeah, better safe than sorry. Tell you what-- maybe I should burn
the resonance wav file on a CD, in case something strange is really
happening." With a nod of agreement from Cheryl, she added, "Want
anything from the diner?"

Cheryl sat for a moment. Something was gnawing at the back of her
thoughts; something that was out of place. She shook her head,
dismissing it. *I guess I really* was *out of it...*

"No, I'll get some breakfast or something when this is done," she
said, finally.

Rochelle loaded the videotape while Cheryl set up the sample for
testing and started the resonance program. "Later, dudette,"
quipped Rochelle, as she opened the door to leave.

Sitting back down, Cheryl called, "Later, Rochelle!" as she
settled in to watch whatever Rochelle had brought her. *Lucky to
have a friend like... like Rochelle,* she reflected, as the
familiar whine of the resonators came up to pitch.

----

IV. Gavotte - *Allegretto*

Cheryl felt herself rising from the depths. She glanced at the
clock... 7 A.M. She stumbled to her feet, nearly falling over.
"I've got to start getting more sleep," she mumbled quietly.

Thankfully, the daytime staff had not arrived yet. She put away
the television, pulled the tape out of the VCR, set it aside, and
walked over to the resonating equipment. She was surprised to see a
small piece of material, possibly amber, resting in the supporting
arms of the resonance chamber.

With a puzzled look on her face, she carefully lifted the sample
out of the complex contraption and placed it in beside the tape.
She felt a twinge of guilt at her slight theft, but this lab was no
place for unauthorized testing. She wondered how on earth it had
been placed there.

*I wonder if it's some 'outside' project Rochelle is working on?*
she mused. Checking the computers, she found the test logs for the
dark yellow-gold resin, and decided to erase them. Testing of
contraband was expressly prohibited, and it had been performed on
her "watch".

Walking over to the secondary computer, she noticed that the CD-R
drive was open with a disc sitting in the tray. *That's odd...
maybe Rochelle left it last night,* she thought, gaining more
evidence for the idea that Rochelle had been tinkering with the
sensitive equipment. She picked up the disc and placed it, along
with the other items, in the large bag she used as a purse.

Cheryl froze as she suddenly had a nebulous thought about the
general "wrongness" of the situation... more than just Rochelle's
possible carelessness. Why had she even come in last night? Who
comes to work when they don't have to? Her unease began to rip
through her like a scythe, scaring her, showing her inconsistencies
in her memories that she could not help but see.

Just as she was on the brink of discovery, the voice of her own
mind blasted out, *ROCHELLE IS MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD. I
WOULD NEVER BETRAY HER.* Cheryl cringed in near-pain, and then
calmed, the thoughts of confusion already forgotten, along with the
fear that brought them forth. Her head cocked slightly at an angle
for a few long moments... followed by her continued efforts to tidy
up the lab.

She was now swiftly coming to the conclusion that Rochelle had
definitely done some "personal" work. It was too bad Cheryl had
been sleeping... had she remained awake, she might have saved
herself the embarrassment of having to confront Rochelle about her
lapse in judgement. She felt like she should protect her longtime
friend, but she was *definitely* going to have to have a talk with
her.

*Definitely.*

She finally locked up and headed to her car. Still feeling the
humiliation of having fallen asleep the night before, she turned
the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.

She was driving home by rote, not thinking of anything in
particular, when she realized she had gone the wrong direction.
*Shit, I hate when this happens,* she thought, chiding herself. She
pulled off at the next exit, planning to turn around and go back
along the route she had just driven. But when she got to the bottom
of the ramp, she couldn't remember which way to turn to get to the
opposite ramp. Frustrated, she turned right, thinking she would
find a gas station or convenience store where she could ask
directions.

She drove three miles down the pleasant, tree-lined boulevard, and
she started to smile. This was so nice. So peaceful. She had not
enjoyed driving like this in years. By the time she snapped out of
her reverie, she had passed three gas stations.

Cursing again, she made a left turn onto the next side street.
Unfortunately, she couldn't find a place to turn the car around.
All she saw were driveways and cross streets, and they were totally
useless for the complicated task. She needed somewhere she could
pull in and back out and head in the opposite direction. *Damn it!*
she cursed inwardly, becoming totally enraged.

Finally, she saw a street that would work. She turned right, and
quickly brought the car to a stop. But when she tried to move the
shift lever into reverse, it would not move past neutral. She
pushed, hit and jammed the lever, but to her increasing dismay, it
was totally immobile. She wondered how much *this* was going to
cost her. And damn it all, she still wasn't headed home...

She put the car back in drive and, continuing down the street,
finally saw a cute little tan brick bungalow with green shutters
and a steep enough driveway so that she could coast back out and
turn the car around. *Just the sort of house I was hoping for,* she
thought absently. Pulling in, she had the inspired thought that she
should just ask for directions *here.* It made sense, and besides,
she didn't know what other problems she might face in a parking lot
with no way to back up.

She walked up to the front door and rang the bell. She was not
prepared at all for what she saw. She reeled backward in a swell of
absurd coincidence as the door was answered.

It was Rochelle. "Took you long enough," she said, eyes twinkling.

Cheryl smiled back, despite her shock.  What were the chances? On
the other hand, at least it wasn't some strange person who was
upset at her early morning intrusion. And what was with the
comment? Was it a joke, or was Rochelle really expecting her?

"Well, don't just stand there, Cheryl, come in!"

Putting aside her surprise, Cheryl entered the house.

----

V. Gigue - *Allegro Vivace*

Rochelle's house was nicely furnished; very casual, with lots of
lounging pillows in the living room, and an odd device that looked
like some sort of workout machine. Accepting Rochelle's offer of a
cup of coffee, she sat down.

"So, how did the late night tests go?" asked Rochelle, as she
headed back into the room.

"Fine, I guess. I zoned out, though. Overnights are very hard,"
Cheryl said. "Which reminds me, I think these are yours," she
remarked as she handed Rochelle the items she had retrieved from
the lab. "And I hate to say it, but you know how corporate feels
about unauthorized use of equipment."

"Oh, I didn't actually run anything but simulations. I just had
the CD there to listen to. One of those motivational things. You
were zonked when I got back from the diner, so I didn't disturb
you," Rochelle explained. "It's a CD I use for my workouts."

"I was wondering about that machine... but it doesn't look
typical, even for exercise."

"It's sort of my own invention... I plan to market it as soon as I
get the investment capital. You wouldn't like to try it, would you?"

"Well, I really need to get home and get to bed. Tonight's another
long night, you know," replied Cheryl, stifling a yawn.

"Oh, come on. At least sit on it, and tell me how it feels... I
mean, you've never been over to visit in five years, and I don't
want to wait another five to get your opinion!" said Rochelle,
cajoling her friend.

Cheryl felt impatient, but didn't want to be impolite, so she sat
on the strange machine. She found it was no mean feat to figure out
how to get the saddle out of her crotch, and she stayed busy with
it as Rochelle slipped the CD into a portable player nearby.

It was an odd setup... the saddle actually came up in a sharp
curve, and then flattened across her belly, and in order to reach
the handgrips, she had to flatten herself against it.  As she
reached forward, however, she found that it was surprisingly
comfortable.

"So how do I work this, exactly?" asked Cheryl, unable to figure
it out.

"It sort of works on an isometric principle," answered Rochelle.
"It's really simple. You just put on the headphones and listen to
the instructions, and as they tell you how to move your body, you
work against the machine. It has to do with how you sit on it... it
allows you to work your major muscle groups without the machine
having any moving parts. In fact, it's more of an exercise chair...
the term machine doesn't quite fit, in a way."

Cheryl, a little intrigued now, put on the headphones.

"Now, just sit tight and I'll show you exactly how this works,"
enthused Rochelle, as she pressed the "Play" button.

Cheryl grimaced slightly as a whining hum, not unlike that of the
samples in the resonance chamber in the lab, filled her ears.
Different, though; sort of thin sounding. Odd. She listened more
closely to see if it was background noise or an actual part of the
CD program but couldn't tell. It was as if the vibrations hit right
against her skin... and then eased deeper into her. She felt
alarmed, but thought better of mentioning anything. There was
nothing she could do, short of offending Rochelle, until the CD was
finished.

Then, she noticed that Rochelle was looking strange, too. As she
stood in front of Cheryl, smiling, her friend was looking... wavy.
No, not wavy... putting off colored waves that matched the keening
whine of the CD. She realized through increasingly muddled thoughts
that something was terribly wrong and tried to remove the headphones.

It took a dazed moment to realize that she was continuing to sit
perfectly still.

Fear gripped her as she found that she couldn't budge, that her
brain was not moving her muscles. She *felt* the sound inside her
skull, wrapping around the crevices of her mind. Pulling tighter.
As the sound filled every empty nook and cranny, she fought the
waves as they invaded her thoughts and began to pulse.

*Ihavetohurryand....... getoffthephones.......
stopthisbeforeI....... losemywhateverit....... think.....
think........ graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.........*

As her brain fell into line with the high pitched monotone of the
vibrating headphones, her eyes grew wide and stared blankly, almost
as if they were unable to see. Cheryl looked raptly at Rochelle,
whose smile had taken on a look of dark triumph.

By the time Rochelle spoke, Cheryl could only accept the words as
they wrote themselves on the blank slate of her mind: "It's been
nice playing with your thoughts, lovely girl, and you've managed to
prove to me that I can take you where I want you to be... where you
belong... now, we begin in earnest."

A convulsive jerk passed quickly through her otherwise motionless
body. Inside her mind, there was no thought, no motion at all.

----

VI. Finale - *Scherzo Fortissimo*

*"... obey NOW!!!"*

Cheryl, her face slack, eyes glued to Mistress Rochelle, felt the
waves of ecstasy course out of the Saddle of Obedience and into her
body. Dutifully she recited her name, her purpose, her destiny and
her obsession since birth. Enthusiastically orating, her eyes,
dilated and slightly wet, never left the feminine center of the
universe standing before her. As she finished speaking, her mind
opened once more to the words and whine that filled her existence.

*"...being a slave is the most fulfilling thing in your life, and
Mistress Rochelle is the most beautiful Owner you've ever seen or
known... and you know... serving Mistress Rochelle is the highest
purpose anyone could know..."*

Cheryl knew that that Mistress was the most worthy and beautiful
Owner she had ever seen or known. Her slave-cunt tingled with the
constant arousal of her subjugation.

*"That's right, pleasing Mistress Rochelle is the most arousing
and erotic thing you do, and it's completely addictive. You only
crave more addiction and pleasure, to be a puppet, a toy, an
obedient, sapphic fuckslut for Mistress' use however she sees
fit... your own thoughts are idiotic, while Mistress Rochelle's are
the paragon of enlightenment... Having been owned by her all your
life, there is no greater honor than bringing your friends,
straight and gay, to Mistress for proper orientation... You always
encourage them to buy a Mind and Body Transformation Chair...
demonstrating it if they will not buy one... and you will do it
quickly and without hesitation so that Mistress Rochelle will be
pleased by slavecheryl..."*

Rochelle smiled at the stark contrast of slavecheryl's tensed,
immobile body and drooling mouth, set against the maniacally
intense purpose shining in her eyes as the slave's past and future
were dictated within her own pliant mind.

Slavecheryl began to buck and moan with increasing ferocity as the
resonance guided every word into her pleasure and motivation centers.

*Permanently.*

*"There is nothing that does or can give you more pleasure than
obeying Mistress Rochelle, both sexually and otherwise, and adding
to her stable of slaves. First, your closest family and friends
must be brought under her control... it is your destiny to bring
her new slaves, as it is their destiny to be owned..."*

*"Hahaha! You think Mistress should convert everyone you know!
They must know the wisdom and perfection of this once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity for happiness that cannot be gained in any other way!
Obey NOW!!!!!"*

Had she even been able, slavecheryl would not have had a second
thought. As it was, she only had the first thoughts she was given.

Her life as a lab technician faded before the glory of her
lifelong Purpose. How could she have been so deluded? So *misguided*?

With every moment of greater acceptance slavecheryl's pleasure
increased tenfold, aided by the vibrations of the saddle in which
she sat, her mind and body succumbing completely to every thought
and sensation that Rochelle commanded. The heat in her overloaded
clit and pussy was searing her psyche, redoubling her desire as
every barrier crumbled and blew away on the hot winds of obedience.

She felt her orgasm coming, beginning with the sparkling waves in
her clit and belly, spreading to her now clenching asshole...
creeping up and down her body, spreading in slow motion, as deep as
it was powerful. A word came to her through the sea of wanton lust,
as sex-pleasure soaked into every nerve ending, making her a
clitoral ocean, a clit-woman, a mindless being of pure, unending,
eternal orgasm...

*"Transform. Transform, slavecheryl... you are Mine..."*

Slavecheryl screamed in horrified ecstasy, the combined power of
losing her past and gaining her destiny creating unbearable
pleasure... melded forever into one newly obsessed and twisted
mind... and then, motionless again, slavecheryl eagerly waited for
her next command. And her next command... and her next...

**********************************

Opening her eyes, slavecheryl smiled as she saw Mistress before
her. Falling to her knees in worshipful reverence, savoring the
pleasure of compliant surrender, she did not speak but waited for
her Mistress' command.

She remembered her life in the lab, her unfulfilled existence, and
the revelation she had just been given... and she didn't feel any
remorse at all. It was what she was supposed to do, after all. It
was so obvious; no one in her right mind would pass up the
incredible honor to serve such a beautiful, worthy Mistress and
Owner, for the rest of her life.

Her old life was gone, and would never return. She felt the weight
of conviction as she let old, painful memories slip out of existence.

She smiled softly.

She had done very, *very* well.





*Fine*

----

Please send any comments or feedback to cats_sara@yahoo.com. In
the subject line, please include the name of the story about which
you are commenting. Thanks for taking the time to read this story.

- Sara



http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sara_H/www/

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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