Corporate Takeover: The Tradwife Trap: Pt. 6

Been a hectic few days, so apologies for not updating more. That said, here's the next bit:

The thing about anxiety was the paradox of it. Sometimes you could be worried about not being worried. This was the conundrum Elliot found himself in while Dr. Benson attached the IV to his arm. He knew he should be terrified. Or furious at benson for what she had done to him. Instead, Elliot found himself bathed in a hazy peace. When Benson secured the IV in place and patted his arm, he even thanked her for it.

She appeared distracted her cool gray eyes were alight with the thought behind them. He almost asked what was bothering her before he remembered what he was doing here and what benson and her staff was doing to him. In the past days, however, Elliot was unable to generate much anger over the matter. It wasn’t exactly peace he found, but a kind of surrender. When he saw the changes to his body, itw as hard to imagine that he could ever be the man he was. And with every one of these sessions in the dark room, he wanted that return less and less.

What had before been characterized by lost minutes at randomw as now a recurring problem where he would lose large swaths of time and wake to realize he had been busying himself by tidying his room. Once he came to while fussing with his hair, trying to make it more presentable as a feminine style. His hair was getting long enough to almost pull it off, too, and that realization had filled him with a perverse joy. He alternately hated himself and loved this new person living with him beneath the skin.

When the spirals began swirling above him and the euphoria of the cocktail of drugs dripping into his veins struck him, Elliot was eager to sink into that happy oblivion. It was good not to think. For that release, he was truly grateful to Benson. Once more, he felt his soul floating up and into the spinning images above him. His body was a separate thing, a lump of clay spread beneath him while he floated up and away. Just like Superman. He giggled at that, hardly noticing how girlish that giggle had become.

As he spun and soared, the rolling bass sound which accompanied his recent training session played in his ears and vibrated through his body. He was like a balloon, tethered by a thin string to his increasingly womanly shape below. And the bass rattled his genitals, made him aroused and pliant. He ran toward the feeling of nothingness. It was easier to be nothing at all than to live in this twilight of his masculinity. Whatever was Elliot only served to shriek and rage now. It was almost nicer to be the less-known woman he saw in the images. Those pictures of her were there if he followe the spirals deep enough. There were no mor epictures of the masculine self, only the sexy pinup version of Elliot. She was so pretty. Not just pretty – sexy. He like dfeeling sexy like the woman in the pictures. He liked hwo she looked coy while snapping a stocking ino a garter. He liked hwo she bent at the waist and showed off her round ass while removing something delicious from the oven.

“It is time for you to become who you truly are,” Benson said. Her voice was breathy and seductive. He loved how her words slithered into his ear and coiled around his brain. Those coils tightened until they squeezed out everything but Benson’s will. His brain was a toy for her amusement, and that knowledge made Elliot happy and warm.

“You have been fooled into thinking you are a man named Elliot Briggs. You have suffered a mental break of sorts,a nd your mind constructed this persona to protect you. It is good that you rmind did that. But now you no longer need that protection. You are ready to become who you truly are, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He liked agreeing with Dr. Benson. It made him happy to please her.

“Good, very good.” Elliot shivered at his joy in having pleased.

“and so it’s time to remember who you really are. See the images floating in front of your eyes. That is you. Not some strange man named Elliot, but a beautiful and self-assured woman named Eleanor. But everyone calls you Ellie for short. Ellie’s wife has been worried sick about her, but Ellie’s wife knows it’s important for Ellie to get better. That is why you are here, Ellie. I am here to help you get better. You know I want to help you, don’t you Ellie?”

He paused. This didn’t feel entirely true, but there was no way he would argue with Dr. Benson when all she wanted to do was help him. So he agreed.

“Yes.”

“Good girl. And you are such a good girl, Ellie.”

Ellie. That was the name of the girl whose pictures swirled above him, coaxed him deeper into the spirals until he wasn’t merely observing these pictures, he was in them. It was nice to be her. She was so pretty. She was so happy.

“I know you barely remember yourself, Ellie. You have spent a long time constructing this person to help you when you were unwell. But as you get better, you will need Elliot less and less. You are safe here. And Ellie is free to come out now, to take control of her life once more. Your wife waits for you, Ellie, and will be there when you no longer need Elliot at all. You can be yourself, Ellie. Happy and safe, sexy and loved.”

His eyes fluttered. It couldn’t possibly be true that he had been someone else alla long. And yet here, with his brain soaking in psychotropics and his body aroused at the sight of Ellie spinning above him, pulling him into her embrace, how could he refute what Dr. Benson was saying?

“You don’t have to remember all at once, Ellie. But I want you o think about how happy you were before. Staying at home to care for your wife, being such a good wife to her. So pleasing and sexy, so confident and happy. You loved her and she loved you. And you showed her that love by being the perfect wife and mother for her. You liked dressing sexy for her, and you would do anything to please her. And as a reward for all the work you do at home, your wife earns for you and provides you with a nice home to keep.”

Elliot spasmed in the chair. The straps held him fast in case his body followed through with the threat of convulsions. Benson watched him close now. He was almost at the breaking point. If the programming worked as designed, he would be cleanly splintering down the middle, with two warring personas vying for dominance in his soupy brain.

“It’s alright for you to be confused Ellie. The important ting to remember is that your wife loves you very much and she is waiting for you to get better. And once you are, you can go home and get back to your life. You so enjoy taking care of her and your home. Not to mention how sexy you look for her. Remember how good that feels?”

He was a little slower to respond this time. Eventually he did answer. “Yes.”

As Benson predicted, a storm raged inside Elliot. His mind tried to reconcile these two very different notions of who he was. There were memories of a man named Elliot and new reassurances that he was a woman named Ellie, and had been all along. When he looked at the swirling images, it was difficult not to believe that those pictures were him. Or her. And that dissociation mad ehis head ache until all he wanted to do was retreat from it and not think anything at all. He now longed for those blank spots in time when that other person took over and dealt with reality.

Benson hated doubling new protocols. It left so much question as to whether the superimposed image was doing the work or her latest protocol. Starting with Jason, Benson decided against bringing the subject up after the end of the session. She would simply leave Elliot in this suggestive state. On the next session, she would bring him up again, only this time, if all went as planned, there would be little of his old personality left.

And so, after the drugs reached their peak and she had spent a dozen minutes repeating he was Ellie, and focusing on his new priorities in life, she brought him back up from the deepest depths of his trance and then released him. She watched the attendants come in and release him, helping him to his feet.

“Come with us, Ellie,” one said, “we need to get you back to your room.”

So long as he stayed at the Janus Institute, he would never be called Elliot again. His jaw hung loose when he ventured a glance back at Benson. She stood impartial and emotionless. She had other matters to deal with.

Julie got the call from Benson shortly after the Rogers session. It wasn’t long before she appeared in the doorway of the training room. Benson never failed to appreciate her modest lines. There was nothing extraordinary about any one of Julie’s features, but she each was attractive enough on their own to result in real beauty. Benson, who did not label herself a sentimentalist, nonetheless felt a twinge of sadness when Julie entered the training room, her smiling and friendly façade worn on her treacherous features.

“Is everything okay? Do we need more time with Rogers?”

“No. he’s fine. Or rather, Ellie is. I did have something in mind for the future. I was hoping you’d give me a hand with something. I need a warm body for a moment and I wanted to catch up with you on our mystery donor at the same time. Two birds,” Benson said with a shrug and faint smile.

“Sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Sit in the chair. I’m making some adjustments to the angle. I’m not sure I’ve been focusing the subjects directly enough.”

Julie hesitated. A moment of worry, and then she sat in the chair. Benson saw it. She made no move toward Julie when she sat, waiting for her to wiggle into a comfortable position, threading her wrists through the open loops of the restraints.

“Like this?”

“Just like that,” Benson replied. “Stare straight up.”

While Julie angled her head to the crown of the domed ceiling Benson moved fast. With a single motion, she pulled the wrist straps tight and folded them over to secure the Velcro bindings in place.

“Dr. Benson?” Julie asked.

Benson was already at work on the ankle straps. Now that those were done, it was short work to secure her head and chest and thighs. Seeing the pretty girl bound to her chair like this aroused Benson. If she was going to be honest with herself, and why not now if she ever had been, as soon as she formulated the plan to exact her revenge on Julie’s duplicity, she had been feeling a hum of arousal when the idea surfaced.

“You have been lied to, Julie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please let me go and we can talk about this.”

“I found the phone, Julie. I know about RJ.”

Julie opened and closed her mouth without uttering a word. She looked like a beached fish, floundering for its air.

“I can explain that.”

“You don’t have to. I have done you a disservice, Julie. I gave you too much choice, and you have been used by another because I did not do my job well enough. I don’t blame you, I really don’t. But you understand, I cannot allow one of my employees to betray me.”

“Please let me go.” Julie was crying now. Her pleading rang hollow. She knew there would be no release. This was a matter of going through the motions. A way of resigning herself to her fate while not surrendering.

“This will take some time, but once done, you will be even better than you are now. You will be devoted to me. I will be the single most important thing in your life, Julie.” While she spoke, she fixed plugs in both ears and moved to the rolling IV stand.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Yes,” Benson said, sliding the needle into Julie’s vein. “I know you will.”