Float-Tank on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Johnson Rope Factory 2c: Beckett Automation

Wed, 13 Jan 2016 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 2b: The Not So Nice short conclusion

Part 2c: Beckett Automation

This is the rest of the dark conclusion to The Johnson Rope Factory that I hadstarted some time ago, you are forewarned as it might not be to everybody’s liking. Constructive comments always welcome, especially with regard to the nature of the ending.

…I found myself (and my spool) on that truck deck and strapped down for shipping while pondering the irony of my fate, my lust for kinky games in combination with a desire for a new and dominate playmate perhaps my final undoing. I had a foreboding feeling that one day my precious machines could play a part in sealing my fate, but not like this…

Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 16: Descent into Torment

Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000

continued from chapter 15

Chapter 16: Descent into Torment

In the morning after a good night’s sleep between latex sheets within his cell the slave reported to the Mistress after showing obsequence to her by kneeing and placing his helmeted head on her rubber booted foot.

“Mistress, the subject is progressing well, in the last 24 hours there has been little physical activity apart from that expected from the input of the programme and his response to it. It would seem that he is now deeply confused and has lost track of both time and where he is. The earlier struggles noted already on the trace where the subject fought against his containment have passed, as have any contact with the reality of his situation. The auditory input has been gradually increased over the time he has been within the inflatable body bag to the point where it is now almost constant; both when he is asleep and conscious. It is clear that he now has accepted the messages contained within the programme believing that they are his own thoughts. In 6 hours he can be moved to the floatation tank and the second part of the programme begun.”

Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 17: The New Regime

Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000

continued from chapter 16

Chapter 17: The New Regime

“Right slave I believe it’s time to release my slave”. This was not a question rather a rhetorical statement. The slave fearful of any perceived challenge from him acquiesced to the statement and deferentially replied,” Of course Mistress, at once”.

“We shall need to sedate my slave before releasing him. Then we can load him onto the trolley and return him to his cell where he can gradually come to. Your Master has told me that my slave will have no recall as to what has happened to him over the last 11 days; they will just not exist in his conscious mind, the conditioning will be total; he will be a completely re-educated slave.”

Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 15: The Dreaded Tube

Sun, 02 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000

continued from chapter 14

Chapter 15: The Dreaded Tube

The Floatation chamber arrived the following morning along with the slave who would be responsible for the installation, maintenance and running of the complex computer programme. He would also be giving the Mistress full debrief each period as to the computer programme and how the slave undergoing the full programme was faring. She was, for her part, looking forward to the experience of continuing the training of this slave and hoping to receive on the job training. She would otherwise be somewhat at a loss having no slave to train.

The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 23: Saskia's Plans Take Shape

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 22: Dolores’ Little Secret)

Chapter 23: Saskia’s Plans Take Shape

Saskia walked out into the hallway directly outside Dolores’ apartments, her mind reeling from the discovery she’d just made and – more importantly – what she’d just done. For several seconds, as she made her way towards the nearest staircase, the sound of muffled screams and stifled banging assaulted her ears. But as she put more distance between herself and the hellish rumpus that the Mistress of Shackleton Grange was stirring up, the less pronounced the sound became, until, once on the landing of the next floor down, it faded away, to leave the old house in a state of ghostly silence.