Virtual training

Maisie hated herself for feeling thankful to both the muscle relaxant and the gas mask, but she had to admit that both of them calmed her down. As much as someone who had just been **** into unrelenting rubber bondage at gunpoint could be calmed. Her ears caught nothing aside from the white noise that had started to gently fill her hearing, so the only thing that clued her as to what was happening where the movements of the container itself. Gentle bumps told Maisie that she was being carried down the stairs, and then she was settled down where it was vibrating slightly: a vehicle.

A sudden lurch told her that she was now being moved and her breathing picked up again. How could this be happening?! She was being taken! Her! Maisie Williams! She had just been **** into a metal box and kidnapped to... God. Where were they taking her?

Whether it was out of anger, or fear, or a combination of both, Maisie began to struggle in her bondage, futile as it was. The chains barely budged a couple of centimeters before the chains tugged her back in place. Inside the sack, her body was was equally useless, not even managing to curl her hands into fists inside their individual rubber pockets. It was hopeless and she knew it, but she had to struggle. This couldn't happen with her! Maisie had to let them know that they couldn't do this to her so easily.

Unfortunately, she was **** to stop when her breathing started to strain. The mask kept giving her the exact same oxygen as before and with exertion that her body was producing, she was quickly running out of breath. With a sob, Maisie went completely still, all her energy concentrated on taking more and more of that sweet, limited air until her body normalized. She sobbed again as she calmed down, realizing just what an effective control method it was. It wasn't blackmailing her, ordering her, or holding her at gunpoint, but its message was very clear. Do not struggle, do not resist. Accept it. Give up. Surrender. Even as they come into your home, **** you into a latex suit at gunpoint, and put you in a box that controls your breathing, just surrender... and she was. As her body calmed down, Maisie found herself unwilling to struggle again.

Realization crashed on her, this time worse than before. She, Maisie Williams, was being kidnapped. Nobody knew where she was, or what was happening to her. She was being taken, against her will, to anywhere in the world, for all she knew, and she could do nothing about it... and for what? Remembering the photos and videos, she was already imagining horrible things. **** Maisie. You will never wear normal clothes again. Obey. Closing her eyes, Maisie tried to **** the thoughts away.

Static invaded her ears until the hated female voice returned. "**** Maisie," she greeted her. "I once again reiterate how unfortunate it is that the situation has to unfold this way. Please understand that we cannot tolerate such independence in a ****, even one as freshly plucked as you. It would not do to deliver you as such. Therefore, instead of going directly to your Master, you will instead go to the Society's Island for intensive training. Speaking of, we will begin it now." Maisie shut her eyes when light blared in the lenses of the mask. It was a gentle white instead of the darknesss of before.

The woman spoke again. "As you go through your training, understand that you brought this on yourself. For refusing to obey, for refusing to know where your place is. I will make it clear to you now. You are a ****. An object to be owned. You have no rights, only privileges that can be taken at any moment if your Master decides so. Your movements, your breathing, your clothing, your life... all of it will be controlled. And you will accept it. Even if it takes years, you will submit. Scream all you want, struggle all you want, but you will surrender, **** Maisie." The voice then left and the gentle white noise returned. Leaving Maisie with a hammering heart and a trembling breath.

They really are serious about it.

The lenses started to show images of women. They were all very powerful, wearing suits and looking as if they were in managerial positions. Women that Maisie had been told to idolize from birth. A sharp jolt of electricity stabbed at the soles of her feet and she yelped. Another attacked her breasts, and one more at her ass cheeks. More powerful women came into view, and more shocks accompanied them, on her stomach, thighs, and even a nasty one on her clit. She started to struggle again, to get away from the shocks, useless as it was. With the pain, the images of those assertive women were seared in her mind.

When the lenses went dark again, the pads stopped their shocks, and Maisie slumped down to regain her breath and calm her trembling, sweaty body in her latex prison. A few silent minutes went buy until light entered her vision again and she whined at the idea of having to go through that again. Images returned... but it was different this time.

These new women were the opposite of the ones before. All of them dressed in latex that ranged from lingerie, to full catsuits, to even some costumes like maids or schoolgirls, and they were all evidently subservient. Bound, on their knees, on their backs, tied to beds or to devices. Eyes to the floor. Gagged, or sucking cocks if they were allowed to be ungagged. Collared, with leashes in their owners' hands. And with these images, came more stimulation. Not shocks, but gentle, soothing vibrations. At once, she knew what they were doing: conditioning her. Angry, Maisie closed her eyes to avoid the images.

It was a mistake. Just a handful of seconds after her rebellion, violent shocks attacked her all at once.

"**** Maisie," came the voice once again. "Your participation in this training is non-negotiable." Maisie opened her eyes to see the latex-clad, submissive women again and the pleasurable stimulation resumed. It only stopped when she was on the cusp of orgasm and everything went black.

So it went on for what she assumed were several hours. A session of pain and images of strong women, followed by one of pleasure and submissive women. She vaguely noticed that the vehicle had stopped at one point and she was carried again. The pressure on her ears and the slight inclination on the container told her that she was on a plane. Maisie only had a few seconds to ponder it until her training resumed.

Finally after a few hours into the plane, the pleasurable session did not stop. Maisie breathed heavily as she saw the women, and briefly, much to her horror, actually fantasized of being in their place. It sent her over the edge, and a powerful orgasm rocked her body. The lenses went dark; her breathing stabilized. Then, the voice returned.

"I assume you have learned which path is preferable for all involved, **** Maisie?" Maisie could not give a response. "I do sincerely hope you have. Now, I suggest you use this time to rest. You will need your energy when you arrive at the Island."

When the voice left and with no stimulation left, Maisie realized just how utterly exhausting the whole ordeal had left her. Settling her head on the rubber pillow, and letting her body go limp in her latex, Maisie closed her eyes and almost immediately drifted off into sleep.