Give Up (Alien Furniture)

What's the point in trying to escape? The robot screen thingy made it clear you haven;t got a hope in hell of making it through this thing, so why give it the satisfaction of trying?

Doubt swims in your head, and perhaps out of fear, or a sense of acceptance, or perhaps... maybe you wanted this... you fall to your knees and freeze in place. You are not going to move an inch.

"Ah, what a pity!" the screen emotes.

"This is going to be a bummer for the ratings. Oh well, if you don't want to play, then you forfeit by default!

The screen swings in front of your face where you kneel, and fills with a now familiar spiral pattern.

"Relax... sleep... I'm just going to scrub your mind... you don't need to worry, stress... or think... any more..."

Everything fades to black...

You wake up. A dullness fills your head. You don't think thoughts so much as you are simply just aware of your surroundings. You might be drooling, but you haven't the mental faculty to tell, nor would you care if you did know. Your mind has been wiped clean for your new purpose...

Furniture! You didn't put up much of a fight, but you have been enslaved all the same. Your new owner is very happy to have you.

You are clad in a bright read latex body suit. It covers your whole body and features a red hood that covers your eyes as well. You don't need to see to be furniture, after all. The suit terminates at your ankles, leaving your feet bare.

You have been posed and mounted to the floor next to your new Owner's favourite chair in his study. He smokes a strange smelling alien pipe. Occasionally, he discards ash into your waiting soles, which you pose as a soft fleshy bowl for him at all times. The sensation of the odd alien ash against your bare feet is immensely pleasurable - they programmed you that way, of course! A happy ash tray is a good ash tray...

... and you are nothing if not a good ash tray.