It had been two years since I had become aware of my real life. Two years since I had become an aware mannequin. Two years since I had grown to love what had been done to me. Two years of automated obedience. Two years of programming. Two years serving my masters. Two years of bliss.
The second episode of my life began whilst a mannequin. I was posed in the lingerie department, displaying a gorgeous corset with matching panties, and sheer smooth stockings. I would have felt really sexy, but I was a mannequin. I was not a woman. I did, however, feel extreme pleasure, my reward. The orgasms which pulsed through my body were extreme, as I lay on a display dias, my legs carefully positioned to display the stockings I wore, my body upright, resting on my left arm, displaying the underwear in a sultry and sexy way.
The store was quiet. It was past closing time. I did not know it at the time, but my stint was almost over. I did not know or care how long I had been like this, I merely felt the pleasure of my rewards and the delight of being deemed worthy of display.
A man approached me. He wore a store uniform. I did not know him as I did not recognise anyone while under this deep a trance, but I know who it was now. It was my boss, Mike.
He stopped in front of me. From his pocket he retrieved a personal stereo and headphones. He placed the headphones on me. I do not think much whilst a mannequin as the orgasms are very overpowering, but I remember thinking this was strange. I was a mannequin. I did not do human things like listen to music. He pressed the play button. I heard noise. Fast words. I did not understand them. But they were beautiful. I wanted to hear every one. My orgasms distracted me somewhat, but I still felt the irresistible power of what I was hearing. Then the words stopped. Mike removed the headphones, and left. I thought no more of it, returning my full attention to the sexual ecstasy flooding my body.
A second man approached. Phillips. He had a trolly. The base of the trolly could be raised and lowered. He raised it to the height of my dias, and parked it beside me. He then slid me onto the trolly, before lowering it, and wheeling me to the de-mannequinning room.
Once in the room, I was removed from the trolly and placed on a mat on the floor. My clothes were carefully removed, until I lay posed, naked, frozen, on the floor. Next, a liquid was sprayed over me. My plastic coating slowly dissolved. This also removed any body hair I may have had, leaving me ready for my next stint. I was then washed down with a warm hose. I felt strange. I was a mannequin. But I was soft, like a woman. I didn't understand. I always feel confused at this point.
Next came the transformation. Philips whispered words in my ear. Beautiful words I could not understand. But my programming did. Instantly I was Kirstie again. I was a woman who had been placed so deeply under hypnosis that she had relinquished all free will. I could move. I could talk.
But I was still receiving my reward. Instantly I collapsed on the mat, my back arching in pleasure. I cried out with my orgasms.
"Oh god! ahhhh! ahhh! AHHHH!" I screamed
I began writhing on the floor, my body tensing and relaxing with extreme pleasure.
And then my body went limp.
My programming had placed me into a state of extreme relaxation. The orgasms stopped. I could not move, and did not want to. I was so relaxed I felt wonderful. And I knew I would remain this way for about 24 hours. This was the time we were made to relax, to let our bodies recover.
I was picked up, still naked, and carried in Phillips' arms to the recovery room. In this room, seven other girls lay naked, motionless. They were heaped together, in a pile, like rag dolls. I was added to the pile. My head lay against one woman's breast, another woman's foot touched me between my legs. And there I was left.
Over the next 24 hours, I drifted in and out of sleep. Some women were removed for post-programming, others brought in from the de-mannequinning room and laid amongst us. This was the time we were used for pleasure the most. At one point I was aware of someone caressing my breasts. I heard noises I recognised as masturbation, and than felt the warm wetness of his come on my stomach. Another time, I felt penetration. I did not mind. It was pleasurable for me, and flattering.
Eventually, I was lifted from the pile of women and carried to another room. This room was usually used for post programming, but unless I was needed for something specific, I did not go through this. I was aware of my life. I did not need to have false memories implanted.
I was placed on a sofa. I lay back in total relaxation. More beautiful words were whispered in my ear. I began to come back from the relaxed state I was in. I recovered control of my body. I was no longer experiencing pleasure of any kind. I was Kirstie, a free lady.
I sat up. Mike was in the room.
"Hi, Mike" I smiled.
I had come to really like Mike. I did not know if this was due to the way I saw him when triggered for programming, or if it was programming itself. But I felt attracted to him. I trusted him. We had made love on numerous occasions, but I was always programmed, his slave, his robot. Did he know I would do it of free will?
"Hi sweet heart!" He smiled back.
I felt a tingle all over. He was smiling at me.
"You look beautiful, as usual," he said.
I remembered I was naked. I blushed.
I began to dress. My own clothes. But I knew I had not selected them, even though I loved them. It was programming. Lacy underwear, a thin black top, a pencil knee-length skirt, black sheer stockings, and stiletto court shoes.
A bag lay beside the seat. Clothes I had ordered before I had gone under, about three weeks ago. A sexy little crimson backless dress, and matching stiletto sandals. I was going to a party that night, and wanted to look knock-out gorgeous.
"I'd better be going," I said.
I looked at Mike. I wanted him to touch me. To hold me. Kiss me. "Heck, put me under, baby!" I thought "Use me".
He smiled. He approached me. My heart started beating faster. He kissed my cheek. My knees buckled slightly. My heart raced.
"I'll see you soon, honey," He said.
I turned and left. I felt good. He treated me special. I meant something to him.
I drove home.
I arrived home at seven PM. I was going out at nine.
The first thing I always do is have a relaxing bath. The relaxation day on "the pile", as I call it, does wonders. But I never really feel human again until I have a bath.
I bathed for half an hour or so.
Next I prepared a quick meal - all my meals are quick and frozen as I'm not at home very much. While it was heating, I did my make-up and hair.
I ate, in front of the telly, then dressed. My new dress was very sexy and I congragulated myself, or whoever ultimately made the choice. Because it was backless, I didn't wear a bra. I wore it with a pair of black sheer stockings, and my new sandals. I did the straps up on the sandals tighter than I usually would have. I didn't know why.
I put on a long coat, left the house, got in the car, and began to drive. As I drove, I began to realise that I had no idea where I was going. And yet I did. I didn't dither or hesitate at junctions, I drove with the full conviction of a woman who knows where she's headed. And yet I didn't know. After half an hour or so, I was driving through unfamiliar streets. This was an area I had never been through before. It made no difference - I confidently drove onwards. I turned into a street which was a dead end. Either I was lost, or I had arrived. I entered the driveway of a nice, large house. There were only three other cars there. Maybe the party hadn't started yet, I speculated. I parked the car and got out. I walked to the door and rang the bell.
Mike opened the door. My heart raced.
"Hi, Kirstie!" he said, a smile on his face. "Please, come in. Let me take your coat".
I walked into the hallway, and removed my coat, handing it to Mike.
"Thanks," I smiled. I was nervous. I was in love with this man. "I'm not too early, I hope?"
"Not at all," he said. "Please, go on through. The door on the left there."
"OK." I smiled again. I was like a school girl.
I walked through the door into a large lounge room. As I entered, I saw three other girls there. I recognised them all from the store. I knew one of them, Lucy Evans. With a start, I noticed that they were all dressed exactly as I was. Same dress. Same sandals. Same make-up. They were all under. Lucy was perched on the edge of the couch, frozen, staring into space. The second girl was in a corner, gently dancing, a sexy sensuous dance. I knew her name, Sandra Smith. But I did not know her. The third girl I only knew as a mannequin. I had posed with her a few times. She was standing like a statue against the wall to my right. Her arms were outstretched. Two coats were draped over them. I saw Mike enter and approach her with my coat.
As I approached the centre of the room, I triggered. Expression drained from my face. My body froze. An enormous rush of relaxation, almost orgasmic in intensity, flooded through my body. I was going to my favourite place - deep trance. My love for Mike welled up until it became absolute worship. I could hear his footsteps in the room. I wanted to throw myself at his feet. I was frozen mid-step. Prone. Vulnerable. I was in ecstasy. I was in heaven.
I realised, of course, that I had been programmed. This was the programming that I had received as a mannequin the day before. I had not ordered these clothes before I went under, I merely thought I had - a programmed memory. Mike had programmed me to come here, dressed as the others, and trigger on this spot.
Mike approached me. He looked at me for a minute or two. I was a statue in front of him. He could use me as he wished. He could give me orders and I would obey without question. He was relishing this. He had four deeply entranced women in his lounge.
There was a sudden noise from the corner where Sandra danced. She moaned, then cried out. She was having an orgasm. I couldn't see her from where I was facing. Her cries continued for a few more seconds, then returned to moans and eventually silence again.
"I've brought you here to try something on you, honey." Mike was talking to me. "We are experimenting with a new control method, a remote control system. With it, we can use you in more types of jobs. We can hire you out to perform tasks. Lap dancing, modelling, topless waitressing, that sort of thing."
I said nothing. I could not. But this excited me. A new form of control. I wanted that.
"The shoes you are wearing are actually quite complicated. Where your heel touches the shoe, there is a ring of tiny needles, twenty in each shoe. By raising and lowering the needles we can make you feel different patterns on your heels. You will be programmed to recognise those patterns and obey the commands they represent. There is a battery and receiver in the stilleto heels. I can operate the heels, and thus you, from anywhere in range with this."
He held up a remote control. It looked very complicated, with a little screen and loads of buttons. He pushed one. I could feel some pins rising from my shoes, touching my heels. It meant nothing as yet, but I sort of got the idea.
"We'll program you to recognise the patterns. Each command will be quite small, but I can put lots together with this and send it all, making you do quite complex things. There are thousands of commands, which allow us to manipulate your muscles and your emotions. Programming takes about ten hours, so I'll put you all to sleep for it. After I've tested you, I'm going to demo you all to a group of businessmen at a dinner party I'm having tomorrow. You'll be serving food and entertaining, all controlled from this remote control I will be using. It will be great!"
I loved the idea. Or I was programmed to love the idea. It didn't matter which to me, the result was the same. I was going to be a robot and I couldn't wait.
"All girls, sit on the couch"
I automatically turned and walked, robotically, to the couch, and obediently sat. There was just enough room for us all to sit. The mannequin no longer held the coats - I guess Mike took them from her when he went up to her with my coat, and put them elsewhere. She sat down beside me. On the other side was Lucy, still perched on the edge. Sandra approached, and sat beside Lucy.
Mike walked up
to Sandra, and tapped her forehead. Her eyes rolled upwards, her eyelids fell.
She sighed and slumped backwards. She was out cold. Next he did the same to
Lucy. I felt her body loosen up. She too sighed, and slumped down fast asleep.
Next I saw his hand approach my forehead. I felt the tap, and immediately the
world drifted away. My last sight, as I lost consciousness was Mike smiling,
his hand still at my forehead. Then nothing.
I awoke. It was daytime. I was on a couch. There were others on the couch. I began to remember. Was I still in a trance? I moved my leg. No. I was disappointed. I was not in heaven any more. I sat up. The other girls were still slumped over, but they were awake.
"I have to keep them under as they are not aware like you. They haven't agreed to this." It was Mike. I started. I didn't realise he was there.
"A... Are we programmed?" I asked.
"I jolly well hope so, honey."
"Girls, sit up," he said. The authority in his voice really excited me.
The others obediently sat bolt upright. Their faces were blank, their bodies frozen solid. I had never been so close to women when they were under. Is this what I look like? I thought. It was not what I expected. It was such a beautiful, relaxed state. I had thought I would look happy and at ease. But no. The lack of facial expression looked strange. The frozen bodies looked tense. And the girls looked so vulnerable. So prone. So beautiful. I was jealous. I wanted to be in that place too, that heaven on Earth.
"Lucy, stand," Mike barked.
She stood up, and froze.
"Lucy, initiate heels," he snapped.
She clicked her heels together three times. Suddenly her whole demeanour changed. She pouted. She put her hands on her thighs and started to gyrate her hips. "Mmmmmmmmmm" she purred. Then she came back.
"What the hell is...." she began.
"Activate," Mike commanded. She suddenly smiled.
Then she stood. Not frozen. Just waiting. Waiting for commands.
"Kirstie, initiate heels," Mike commanded.
This took me off guard. I had expected the others to be done first. But my programming was as fast as ever.
Automatically, I clicked me heels together three times. I felt nothing, but I knew I had relinquished control of myself. I started to feel really sexy. I put my hands on my thighs. I began gyrating my hips. It felt so good. "Mmmmmmmmmm" I purred. Then I came back.
"OK sweet heart. You will automatically do that whenever you put on a pair of heels. The three rapid clicks tells the heels to respond and let you know they are there. Instead of a blank boring acknowledgement, like we do when programming, I put in that little sexy dance." He smiled.
"I will do that whenever I put on these shoes?" I asked.
"Any heels, which means any of your shoes in your case. If they are not control shoes, or the batteries are flat, you won't do the dance, and we won't be able to activate you."
"But, I felt nothing..."
"I programmed your subconscious to block the feelings of the pins so they won't annoy you. But trust me, you are feeling them. You did the little dance, after all."
"I don't feel in a trance."
"You aren't. I can put you under with this," he held up the controller, "or with the activate command. All your shoes will be control shoes. You will wear them when you are off work, shopping, going for a drink. We have to let you wear them without being in a trance."
He pressed a button. I went under. It was not as deep as that heavenly trance that the mannequin and Sandra were still in. But it was a trance non-the-less. I could not move. I knew I had given myself again. I knew I had no volition. I felt good.
"We don't give you the rewards you get when under or mannequinned because we change your emotions with the controller. Like this."
He pushed a button. I felt turned on. Sexy. I began to feel really sexually excited. I gyrated my hips. My erogenous zones tingled. I pouted. I began to feel my breasts. My knees felt weak. Then I came. "Oh oh OH OH GOD MIKE UHH UHH UUH OOH OH" I screamed. My knees gave way. I collapsed to the floor, I writhed in pleasure. "OH GOD." The strap on my dress came loose. My left breast was exposed. I caressed the nipple. My hands were shaking. My body was shaking. I was having a multiple orgasm. My back arched uncontrollably. My eyes had spun right up, practically to the back of my head. My mouth was agape, my tongue thrust out, as I cried out in pleasure again and again and again.
Then it ended. Mike had turned my pleasure off, with the flick of a switch. Still shaking, I climbed to my feet. I stood, and stopped. I was awaiting more instructions. My breast remained exposed as I had not been commanded to cover it.
Mike turned his attention to the other two girls. In turn they stood, clicked their heels, danced, purred, then activated to stand prone as Lucy and I did.
The rest of the morning, and most of the afternoon was spent with Mike testing his controller. We were given all sorts of commands and emotions. I, and the other three girls, experienced many more orgasms. I was made sad, and cried, I was made happy, and cried too! I was made angry, and argued very loudly with the mannequin about the hands on a Barbie doll. All was, of course, preprogrammed by Mike. Eventually, he programmed us to perform a play. He called it a play, but it was sex. We all acted our parts exactly as the script dictated, although we had never seen the script. All was done using the controller. At one point, my shoe came off. I slumped, unable to move, unable to receive commands, until it was put back on again. We pleasured ourselves and each other over and over. By the end we were all stripped to our stockings and suspender belts, and covered in sweat. Mike had taken us all. He took me five times. He must have used viagra.
Eventually, he drew the proceedings to a close. Apparently our heels were low on power, or as he put it, our batteries had run out. The other three were triggered, and I was sent off to have the first shower.
I returned clean and refreshed. Clothes lay on the couch. And on the floor, were four pairs of heels. White court shoes with four inch stilettos. Very slutty. They were sitting in a device, plugged in as it were. It was like a recharging station for a mobile phone.
I began to dress. No bra. No panties. A white suspender belt and white stockings. I put them on. Mike watched. A little white leather mini skirt. It hardly covered my buttocks. I knew my private parts were easily visible. There was a clear silk top. It was slightly white, but almost perfectly see through. I put it on. My breasts were still perfectly visible. I unplugged the heels, automatically selecting the pair which were my size. I put them on. Instantly, my heels clicked together three times. I surrendered myself. I felt sexy, I felt my hips, gyrated my thighs, doing my little dance. "Mmmmmmmmmmm" I purred, and then came back. I was ready.
Mike activated me with the controller, and left me standing. One by one the others returned. They dressed, exactly the same clothes as me. They looked really slutty. They put on their heels. They clicked their heels, danced, and purred. Then they joined me, activated, standing prone.
Once we were all ready, Mike programmed us from the controller. It was quite a long program, lasting some thirty seconds. We stood, the program passing through our heels to our subconscious. I began to want to serve men. I wanted to serve them food. I wanted to serve them drinks. I wanted to serve them sex. I was becoming a waitress and a prostitute. I felt uncomfortable. I put my hand on my hip and started to stand in a slutty way. That felt better. The others did the same. Mike smiled.
We stayed there while Mike left the room. After a half hour or so, he returned and beckoned us to follow him. We followed without question, out into the hall, and along to the dining room. Five places were set at the table. We each walked to a place and stood behind the chair. I pulled my chair out, as if to let someone in to sit. I felt sexy. I began to wiggle my hips. I smiled sexily. And waited. The others did the exact same. We were programmed to perfection.
After twenty minutes or so, there was some noise at the front door. Soon Mike entered, with four men behind. Businessmen. I suppose they weren't really that attractive, but they were gorgeous to me. My heart raced. I was excited. One approached me.
"Good evening, Sir," I pouted.
"Oh yes. I like you, sweety," he said, as he sat. "And you say, these are robots?" he asked Mike.
"As good as," Mike said.
"Can we fuck em?" another said, as he sat at the mannequin's chair, ogling her breasts.
"Oh yes, you sure can," Mike laughed.
I turned to my man,
"Can I get you a drink, sir?"
"You sure as hell can," he said. He thrust his hand between my legs. He had seen my naked vagina. He slipped a finger inside me. I had been feeling so sexy, that I was very wet, he entered with ease. It felt lovely. I was so turned on, I wanted pleasure.
"Scotch," he said, removing his finger. "Suck this first."
Without hesitation I sucked his finger, tasting my wetness. I turned and went to the kitchen. I had never been here, but knew where everything was. I prepared a scotch, grabbed a menu and returned. I served the drink and gave him the menu, smiling. "Here's your starters menu," I said, pouting. Then I sat on his lap.
"Hey, I like these," he said to Mike, who sat at the fifth chair.
I put my arm around him. I looked at his face. The smile left my face, as my attraction grew serious. I leant forward and kissed him. He held me tight and we began to snog.
Suddenly I heard a girl cry out in pleasure. On of the others had been given an orgasm. Someone had the controller. I heard smashing glass. She must have been returning to serve a drink, and had lost control with the pleasure. The men laughed.
I stood, turned, and began to dance for my man. Sexily I began to remove my top. I noticed the others. Lucy had removed her top and skirt. She was straddling her man, who had entered her. They moaned with pleasure as they had sex. The mannequin was snogging her man, sitting on his lap as I had. Sandra was frozen. Like Lucy, she had removed her top and skirt. She stood as if in mid orgasm, a statue, Her man was masturbating while he sucked her left nipple. He began to shake with excitement. He stood, and came, thrusting his penis towards her, ejaculating over her frozen thighs.
As I removed my skirt, my man ordered his starter. Obediently, I walked sexily to the kitchen and returned with his soup. As I placed it before him, I saw that he had the controller. He pressed some buttons. "OH GOD No Oh GOh..." I screamed as the orgasm burst between my legs. Then, like Sandra, I froze. The pleasure remained. For an eternity I stood there, frozen in an orgasm. Frozen in heaven. Finally I was released. He had finished his soup, and wanted another drink. There was sperm on my right breast.
And so we continued, serving food, drink, and sex, naked but for stockings and heels, convinced our men were the most gorgeous men in the world. It was wonderful.
After the meal, the sex intensified. I made love to all of the men, and the mannequin, whose name I still do not know. I was covered in oil, and sat in the centre of the table, displaying myself and pleasuring myself with a dildo. Many times they climaxed me and the others as we carried drinks. It became a running joke to make us come while carrying another's drink. I thought I could manage it but I never came close, collapsing in absolute pleasure every time.
By the end of the evening, we were filthy, covered in sweat, oil, drink, food, sperm, as well as our own juices. The men left professing a fantastic successful night. Mikes "remote controlled robot women" were a hit. He had secured thousands in business deals. We would be put to work forthwith. Others would be programmed. A new industry was created that night. And we were the product. They had even coined a term for it. We were controlled by stiletto heels and hypnosis. It was to be termed "Styptosis". We were "Styptolites". I was a Styptolite. Not a normal lady. A Styptolite lady.
Again we were sent to the showers one by one, then returned to the lounge to dress. My dress, stockings, and heels from the previous night were there, cleaned. My heels were charging. I dressed. I put my heels on. I clicked them three times and did my little dance, as all Styptolites do today. The others followed. I was not activated or triggered as I was returning home. The others, however, were triggered once dressed. Mike reprogrammed them one by one, then sent them home. Once they were in their cars, driving out the street, they would come back out of the trance, and believe the false memories of the programming.
Finally I was alone with Mike. I smiled.
"That was interesting," I said.
"It was great," said Mike.
He walked me to the door. I turned to him.
"I'll see you at work," I said.
"Yup" he said.
I leant forward. I kissed him. On the lips. It was an impulse. He kissed me back. My knees went like jelly. I trembled. His arm circled my waist. He held me close. We kissed. I couldn't believe this was happening.
"Remember this, Kirstie," he said. "When we are finished with you, whether through free will or hypnosis, you will be mine. I have chosen you for myself."
I was shocked. I stared at him. Was this true? Was this really happening? I was speechless. My dreams. Would they come true? Could they?
Mike closed the door. I was alone. I got in my car and drove home. My mind was racing. So much had happened the last two days. I had been taken to another level. I entered a mannequin and left a mannequin Styptolite, and I knew Styptosis would play the larger part of my life.
I arrived home late. I could smell stale smoke. My house was secure, but someone had been in. Looking around I found out why. All my shoes had been replaced with control shoes. Same make, size, colour. But swapped for new control ones. The floor of my wardrobe contained a huge charger, my new shoes all plugged in charging, with space for many more. A Styptolite's wardrobe, I mused.
In two days I would return to work. What would I be doing. Would I be on display in the store, frozen solid? Or would I be elsewhere, obeying a remote control, modelling, or stripping, or serving drinks, or food, or sex. It was so exciting.
I was Mike's.
I was a mannequin.
I was a Styptolite.
I was in heaven.
Continued in Part 3: Permanence