AUTHOR = JAX
E-MAIL = JAX@jaustin1.fsnet.co.uk
"So who's this then?" Dr Adams asked.
"Well, we're not too sure," the MI6 agent said. "She got two passports, both genuine but in different names."
"Oh, that sounds intriguing," muttered the doctor.
"Oh yes, nothing ordinary about this little lady," smiled the agent. "Firstly, she has a British Diplomatic passport issued in Hong Kong to a Chin Lee. She was repatriated after '97 to work in the Chinese department of the F.O., so we think she was a Red Chinese plant. Her second passport was issued to a Charlene Lee in '93, parents died in '87, and no other family. Funny that she was in Hong Kong in '93, so how did she get that passport?"
"My, my, my little one, what a tangled web we weave," the doctor stroked the girl's head.
"If you sign for her, she's all yours," the agent said holding out a clipboard. "After that we don't want to hear from her again, do you understand?"
"Yes, yes," the doctor said; slightly impatient to get started on this new project, scribbled his name in the offered paper.
"Okay Doc, she's all yours," the agent said.
"Good, good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do," the doctor said studying his new patient on the stretcher.
"Mr. Pearce," shouted Dr Adams, "we have a new customer."
"Oh good," said the white-coated assistant, "she looks nice."
"Yeah, well we'll see. Is the tank ready?" asked the doctor.
"Almost, give me ten minutes to connect up the sensor cables and we're ready to go," the assistant said.
"Okay, but first we better prepare her," the doctor said with a huge smile. The two men stripped the unconscious girl naked.
"My, oh my, will you look at that," sighed the assistant.
Both men looked at the naked girl on the stretcher. She was short like most Chinese girls, with stocky but shapely legs; her bust was small and perfectly round, with small nipples.
"Well, we haven't got time to enjoy ourselves now Mr. Peace," said the doctor, "let's get her dressed in the immersion suit."
It was a struggle to get the limp body dressed in the rubber suit ready for the first stage of the process. Within 30 minutes her body was lowered into the sensory isolation tank and the door closed.
"Are we ready?" said the doctor.
"Yes doctor," answered the assistant, "all sensors active."
"Good, good, I'm off to my office. Give me a shout when she enters stage one, OK?" said the doctor.
Back in his office, Doctor Adams set about recording the first of many audio tapes to use on his new patient. The first one was the critical one of course, in that it would be the first thing she heard after she had reached stage three. It didn't take long, the format was already known, and he just had to personalise it for Charlene.
"Doc," said Mr. Pearce over the intercom, "she's now awake and entering stage one."
"Right, how is she taking it?" asked Adams.
"She's thrashing about like a wild thing," chuckled Pearce.
"Good, good, keep me informed and start the clock," replied Doctor Adams.
Good, thought Adams, in about 72 hours from now he would have a clean slate for him to work with. In fact, it took 81 hours before she entered stage three, her mind now calm after periods of sleep and panic attacks. Being in a sensor-isolation tank was the latest in mind washing technique.
"She's ready for the first tape," said Mr. Pearce, who was monitoring her brain waves.
Doctor Adams' calm voice now flooded her ears. It was the first sound she had heard for over three days. Over and over his voice reinforced his will over the empty mind of the beautiful Chinese girl.
Five days later, she had been removed from the tank, dressed in a simple one-piece jump suit, and stood in front of Doctor Adams' desk.
"Tell me about yourself," said the good doctor. The young girl recited the artificial memories that had been implanted in her empty brain. "And who am I?" he asked.
"You are Doctor Adams and you are my master," she said.
"What do you understand by the term 'master'?" said the smiling doctor.
"It means I will do anything you, my master, asks," she replied flatly.
"Good, good, but why?" he smiled at her.
Her face was a picture of puzzlement. "I don't understand. Please, if you are my master, I must do what you say," she said.
"But suppose you don't want to do as I ask?" said the now serious doctor.
"I don't understand," said the puzzled girl, why wouldn't I want to do as you asked?"
"Good, good. Now please unzip your suit and show me your breasts." Her hand immediately pulled the zip down all the way and then she opened the front of the suit to expose her shapely breasts. "Tell me about sex?" he asked, looking lustfully at her exposed body.
"Sex is a means of reproducing, where the male deposits his DNA, in the form of a fluid, into the fertile female."
"Stop," he held his hand up. "Tell me about the pleasure of sex."
"When depositing this fluid, the male experiences great pleasure," she said.
"Good," he said, "now completely remove your outfit. Now lie down on the floor. Good, good," he said, when she had complied with his orders. "Now spread your legs as wide as you can. Lift your knees slightly... good. We are going to enjoy that pleasure now."
Getting up, the good doctor unzipped himself and moved between her legs; his hard cock penetrated her easily. The implanted instructions in her brain told her to move her hips in sync with his thrusts. Soon his orgasm overtook him and he splattered deep inside her.
"Good, good," said the satisfied doctor, getting dressed and sitting down behind his desk.
"Mr. Pearce," he said into the intercom, "please come here." His assistant walked into the office and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the naked girl on the floor. "If you want...." the doctor said, indicating the girl on the floor.
"Yeah, thanks," said Mr. Pearce, his voice thick with lust, "I've been looking forward to this treat."
The doctor looked on with his own rising lust at the two coupling figures on the floor. No doubt about it, he thought, this one was the best they had worked on to date, and would make him a lot of money. The only problem was where to start. Perhaps with a few porn films, then move on to using her as a high class Call Girl -- she should command a high price. Then he would probably sell her outright to a Middle Eastern customer.
His assistant, now finished with her, left with a thank you. The good doctor again moved between her wide spread legs and thrust into her.
"Oh yes my pretty," he said to himself, "you are going to make me lots of lovely money, but first I'm going to fuck your brains out again and again."
THE END
