Elusive Memories

Content Warning: This story presents anti feminism, sex trafficking, and mind control in an erotic context. It is intended only as an erotic fantasy.

Ceiling...walls...a bed...voices. Piece by piece the world around Sam clicked into focus. Memory and self rose to the surface of a fogged mind. With clarity came another desperate attempt to parse what was going on. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd been lucid, and didn't know how long she had before her mind would lose its grip and fade away again.

The last thing she knew she remembered was the women's march. She'd been parched from shouting along the the slogans. There was a woman with glassy eyes, and a duffel bag full of water bottles. She'd given one to Sam. That's when things got blurred for the first time. After that was a vague sense that she was being moving. Not under her own power...carried. Then there was a van. Commanding male voices. At some point she'd come to in something like a holding cell. She remembered it was like the place she'd been taken after getting arrested at a protest once, but this place was darker, and quiet. There had been other women there. Women from the march. All had glassy eyes. They were unresponsive. At least...Sam thought they were unresponsive. She remembered trying to talk to them, but couldn't remember if she'd actually said anything.

Then there were other blurs, punctuated with other fuzzy memories. Other quiet rooms filled with quiet women. Men examining her body with clinical lust. There were injections. Male voices whispering instructions that had stuck in her mind like flies on a glue trap. However much she may have forgotten, she knew with absolute certainty that "Position 1" meant she had to kneel with her hands palm-up, and her mouth open. "Position 2" was face down, arms forward, butt in the air, back arched. "Position 3" was on her back, arms holding her knees wide apart. "Position 4" was...wait, why had she started reviewing positions? She tried to force her mind back into the present.

She remembered the airport, and the plane. Now she was in a bedroom furnished the way only hotel bedrooms are. Her clothes were...not hers. A wide mesh that left her exposed. Not something would ever choose to wear. There were two men standing just in front of her at the foot of the bed. They were talking. Talking about...money? She realized one was staring at her. Right at her. He was leering. For reasons she couldn't understand she gave him an inviting smile and a seductive wink. Finally her mind caught up with what was going on, with what they'd done to her, what she was about to do for them. It was too late. Her vision was getting blurry. Her last thought was to wonder how many times she'd figured it out before. The the thing called "Sam" disappeared, leaving behind a creature whose only instinct was to please, and obey.