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From: ladd@cs.unc.edu (Brian C. Ladd)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: MNA: Kiddie Treatment (mf mc pd in) 01/01
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Date: 18 Mar 1996 11:31:57 -0500
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=============================================================================
                        Mindnumbing Archive Repost
=============================================================================

<V-CHIP RATING=ADULT>
    The following is erotic in nature.  If you are under the legal age of
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The curator of the MNA most likely did NOT write the story which follows.
Authors, when known, are acknowledged in the body of the file.  Assemble the
various parts of related messages, removing everything outside the [BEGIN]
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[BEGIN]
From: an119491@anon.penet.fi

Kiddie Treatment

I was home from college when I got a call from my chum, Barry.  "You
gotta help me," he begged.  "I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down," I told him.  "What's the problem?"

"You wouldn't believe me," he said.  "Come over and I'll tell you."

I went over to Barry's house.  His parents were out of town.  He met me
at the door and hustled me into his room, shutting the door.

"What's the big deal?" I complained.  "How come we can't sit downstairs
and talk?"

"My kid sister," he said, nervously.  "I don't want her interrupting
us."

His sister was named Meryl; she was about eight.  I remembered a cute
blonde with china-blue eyes and long hair. A little heartbreaker;
jailbait even at eight.

"All right, let's have it," I said to him, sitting on the bed.  He took
a seat at his desk chair, swinging it around to face me.

"OK. But look. This is gonna sound incredible.  Try to withhold
judgement until I finish."  He had a look of pleading in his eyes; I
said, "Sure, OK."

"You know my major," he began.

"Yeah; 'Developmental Psych' or some such," I replied.

"Or some such.  Well, I got a job as a research assistant with Professor
Hillman; one of the biggest names in the field.  It was a real plum." He
chuckled, as if laughing at himself for his gullibility.

"Well, I worked for the good professor for almost a year.  Then I found
out...by accident..."

"What?"

"The research program was supposed to be about 'mental states'.  We were
using sophisticated instruments and computers to map the patterns of
brain activity in volunteers."  He laughed again. "Volunteers..."

"Come on, Barry."  I was getting a bit tired of his melodramatics.

"All right.  The volunteers were children.  Mostly girls, from about
seven through 13.  They paid the parents well; they had plenty of
volunteers.  The prof explained that girls were more compatible with the
equipment.  And I bought it!...Anyway, there was a simple headpiece,
with a wire bundle coming out of it, that fed into the computers.  The
sensors on the headpiece were new technology.  Superconducting SQUIDs, I
think.  And there was a screen, that displayed patterns for the subject
to watch.  It was a passive set-up; the idea was that the kid watched
the patterns and we measured the brain activity. The screen was set up
in a 'test cell'; just a darkened cubicle with soundproofing.

"Everything was going OK.  I was the junior lab assistant; there was a
grad student named Ken who pretty much ran the lab.  He was an arrogant
bastard.  Didn't much like him, even then.  One night I went to the lab
because I'd forgotten some notes.  It was supposed to be closed.  When I
went in, I saw Ken.  He had powered up the system; I could see that he
had a subject in the test cell.  From where I stood, I could see it was
a young girl, about Meryl's age; blond, too.  I was puzzled.  At that
moment, the 'experiment' seemed to end; the screen went blank and Ken
went toward the cell.  He led the girl from the cell.

"There was something wrong; the kid moved like she was sleepwalking.
And I could see that she wasn't wearing any clothes!  Or rather, she was
wearing only a tiny pair of panties.

"I started to go over to the other side of the lab, to see what was
going on.  Just then the phone rang in the back office; Ken got up and
left her standing there, just staring blankly ahead.  I went over to
her.  The moment she saw me, she fell to her knees, and said 'Master,
how may I serve you?'

"It was clear that she was in some sort of trance; she was there on her
knees, waiting for an order or command."

Barry paused and took a breath.  "I gotta tell you, Joe: I stood there,
with that beautiful little girl kneeling before me, and had a raging
hard-on.  The thought of an obedient little nymphet, ready to obey any
order I might give her, had me hard as iron in no time."

"What did you do?"

"I told her to stand up, and she did. She faced me, with a lovely smile
on her face, and begged me to command her, to use her.  I was standing
there, stunned, when Ken came back."

"Jesus.  What happened?"

"He just grinned, like it was no big deal.  He said something like,
'Well, you were bound to find out sooner or later," and told me to have
a seat.  I was too overwhelmed to do anything else; I sat down at one of
the consoles.

"While the half-naked girl stood there, he told me what he'd been up to.
'Little Jenny here, she's one of our more advanced subjects,' he said.
'She'll do just about anything you tell her; all you need to do is give
the right keyword.  Wanna see her do tricks?'

"I stammered something; I don't remember what I said.

"He spoke to the girl, said a certain word.  The word was simple:
XANADU. I learned later that they used this code word with every
subject.  Whenever one of the programmed kids heard this word, spoken by
a man, she'd go into what Ken called 'slave mode'. If she heard it from
a woman, or another kid, it'd have no effect.  Afterward, when the
subject was out of 'slave mode', she had no memory of anything that
happened during the trance.

When she heard that word, she turned to him and asked how she could
serve him.

"'Jenny, go over there and sit on the man's lap,' he ordered. In no
time, the panty-clad little girl was sitting in my lap with her arms
around my neck.  My rod was already hard, and she squirmed around on it,
rubbing those silky panties on my erection.  Then he told her to
'cuddle', and before I knew it, she was kissing me, pushing her little
tongue into my mouth!

"In no time, I was too far gone to think about what was happening.  My
hands were all over her, and she cooed and sighed when I touched her
thighs or crotch.  Jesus, just remembering it is getting me hot.  Joe,
she seemed to really enjoy what we were doing; there was no hesitation,
no sign of coercion.  I had a lapful of willing, precocious, seductive
little girl, who was doing her very best to get me to fuck her.  After a
while, I realized her hands had been busy; she'd managed to get my belt
open and my zipper down, and soon her soft little hands were exploring
my dick!  I couldn't believe how good it felt!  In seconds, it seemed,
she brought me off.  I covered her little hands with my come.  Then she
deliberately raised her hand to her mouth and licked my sperm up!

"'They're programmed to find sperm delicious; the best thing they ever
tasted,' Ken remarked.  'They'll do almost anything to get some of it.'"

"Then Ken said something to her, and she ran to get cleaned up. 'She's
pretty good, huh?' he said.  'We've been taking a lot of trouble to get
her program right.'

"I was sitting there, my cock shrinking, in total confusion.  I started
to say something. Just then, the little slave returned with a wet cloth.
She cleaned me up, smiling all the time, then turned to Ken and
curtseyed. 'May I serve you further, Master?' she asked.

"'Jenny, go put on your outside clothes; then come back here.'  She ran
to the side of the lab and got dressed, then ran back to him.  'On
three, Jenny, you will forget this session.  We had a normal session,
just as always.  What are your instructions?'

"'I will replay my program when I go to sleep; with each repetition it
will become deeper and more compelling,' she said, in a soft monotone.
'I must obey all the commands and suggestions; to disobey is to die.  I
will return here for my next session, more obedient than ever.'

"'Good. Recite, please.'

"She stood there, folded her arms behind her and recited a little
catechism in a sort of sing-song voice: 'I am a little girl, born to
serve my Masters.  I live only to obey.  My purpose is my Masters'
pleasure; my body is my Masters' property, my mind is my Masters' to
command.  I am pleasure; I am obedience; I will serve my Master for the
rest of my life.'  She gave another little curtsey, and fell silent.

"He counted to three, and she seemed to awaken.  With a sunny smile, she
said, 'Thanks, Mr. Evans!' then turned and ran out of the lab.

"Ken turned to me.  'Well, I expect you have questions,' he said."

"I'll bet!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah.  It turned out that the Prof and Ken had a 'hidden agenda'. The
story of the research was phony; they were working on mind control.  And
they'd had a breakthrough. It wasn't perfect; it worked best on
children, and on girls best of all.  Something about 'impedence
matching'.  Anyhow, it was fine with them--it turned out they were both
pedophiles!  They'd been using the system to program every girl who
volunteered.  By the time I found out, they had altered the minds of
several hundred girls. They marked them, too."

"Marked?"

"Yah.  Each girl wore a gold ankle bracelet, with a data block on it.
Ken told me they'd do almost anything to avoid having it removed.
They were planning to put a tatoo on the girls as well.  Part of their
programming made the kids start to wear really sexy clothes: like
miniskirts and little see-through sundresses.  Each girl began
collecting a huge wardrobe of sexy lingerie, too."

"Wow.  What'd you do?"

"I was going to the Dean.  I told Ken.  The next night, while I was
preparing my evidence to take to the Dean, I returned to my apartment
and found three little girls, dressed only in baby-doll nighties,
waiting for me."

"What?"

"Ken had sent them.  They offered themselves to me, utterly without
shame or guilt.  As far as they were concerned, I was simply another
Master, to be served and obeyed. Their names were Wendy, Carla, and
Mindy.  The oldest was only twelve.  Wendy--the asian one--just came up
to me and knelt in front of me.  'Please, Master, let me suck your
cock,' she begged."

"And?"

Barry put his head in his hands.  "I took them.  I couldn't help
myself-- they were so lovely...and I hadn't had sex for months.  Ken
knew I would.  He hooked me.  Just like a drug.  Once I'd experienced
those submissive little nymphets, I had to have more.  I...I...joined
them..."

"You helped them?"

"Yeah; I sure did."

"Christ."

"Well, one day I went to the lab and it was empty.  The prof and Ken had
vanished; all the evidence was gone.  I told myself I'd be a fool to go
to the Dean now; after all, there had been no complaints.  And I was an
accomplice! If I squealed, I'd take the rap.  A lovely trap."

"Wow.  But why tell me?"

"I'll show you."

He led me out into the hall, into the family room where his lovely
eight-year-old sister was watching TV. She was lying on the sofa, on her
belly, her face toward the TV and away from us.  She was wearing a pink
baby-doll nightie, with matching panties, which were clearly visible.
Her legs were partially spread, revealing her lovely bottom and crotch.
"Look," he whispered, pointing.  I could see a thin gold bracelet around
her right ankle. It caught the light as she lazily dangled the leg in
the air.

He pulled me back into the hall.

"You're not serious!"

"Serious is right.  I tested her.  She's programmed.  She fell to her
knees and gave the stock response, just like the others," he told me.
"And see how she's dressed?  They've had their 'modesty' inhibition
reduced; it's unconcious, but she doesn't care as much any more about
modesty.  Looser, you know?  She'll give you a real show, without
knowing that she's doing it.  I've noticed that she has trouble keeping
her knees together, like proper little girls are always taught to do."

"Good God. Now what?"

"You've gotta help me, Joe.  You gotta.  I....I....know if I'm left
alone with her, it's only a matter of time before I say the word to her
again...and use her, just like I used the others..."

"Jesus. I don't know what to do!"

"It's not just Meryl.  I've been noticing.  All over town, I'm seeing
little girls in really sexy outfits.  Skirts too short.  Silky panties
under those skirts.  Practically transparent tops.   At the mall; I saw
a group of three of them, dressed in tiny skirts, shopping for more sexy
clothes.  They were laughing and giggling, like what they were doing was
natural and right.  I saw one in an ultra-mini, candystriped, with a
silken teddy underneath.  The skirt was a wraparound, and it kept
flipping open.  She didn't seem to care.  Jesus, Joe; I've seen their
bracelets.  And I know the word that'll make any of them a helpless
little sex toy."

He was practically weeping.  The strain was clearly too much for him.

"It's them.  They're here.  Somehow they got Meryl; they're getting to
hundreds--maybe thousands of little girls.  And I don't know if I can do
anything to stop them; I'm addicted to the little slaves!  My sister,
Joe!  If I don't get out of here, I'm gonna fuck my eight-year-old
sister!"

I smiled at him.  "Barry, do you remember my major?"

"What?  Electrical Engineering, wasn't it?"

"Yeah; with a minor in Cognitive Science," I told him.  "Your friend Ken
and the Professor had to have help, you know.  All that fancy high-tech
equipment.  They needed engineering support," I said.

"I guess so. What's your point?"

I cracked open the door to the family room. "Hey, Meryl," I called out.
The lovely young girl sat up and looked at us, her innocent blue eyes
questioning. "What? I wanna watch this," she said. She started to look
back at the TV.  "XANADU," I said, in a loud voice.  Her expression
changed; her face became blank.  With a fluid motion, she was up from
the sofa.  She ran to kneel before me, all thoughts of the TV program
forgotten.

"How may I serve you, Master?" she said, meekly.

"Why don't you begin by giving your brother a nice blow job?"

"Oh, yes, Master!"

And before my pal had fully realized what was happening, his little
sister had his pants open and was happily licking and sucking his cock.
Barry stood, in shock, looking down at her as she slurped him to
hardness.  "No...no...this is wrong..." he mumbled.  But soon his
protest turned to groans, as Meryl's tongue worked its magic.

"We made sure we had Meryl," I told him, as his hips thrust his rod into
her throat.  "We knew you'd come home for summer break.  We've made
great progress, and I'm sure you'll be impressed.  Professor Hillman
found a way to make the process work on anyone--adults, males, females,
anybody.  And I got the device to fit in a miniature package so it is
quite portable.  We're programming parents now; teachers, too.

"In fact, your parents are being programmed this very moment, so they
will be quite cooperative in your continued use of Meryl.  And if you
want, you can add any number of willing nymphets to your harem--no need
to limit yourself to only Meryl, although she IS delightful.  She served
me for several days before you arrived. I'll miss her, but my personal
harem is now about twenty young girls, so I can afford to let you have
her," I told him.

"Christ! You bastards!" he cursed as he pumped his jism down his
sister's throat.

"We could have programmed YOU, of course," I remarked, as he shuddered
to the end of his climax.  "But Professor Hillman has a soft spot for
you--and he wanted your voluntary cooperation."

"Did I please you, Master?" Meryl asked coyly, still kneeling, as she
stroked and kissed his softening rod. "How may I serve you further?"

"Well, I'll leave you two alone," I told him. "I'm sure you'll find
something for her to do.  Your parents will be back in the morning, and
you'll find that they are quite delighted with Meryl's new life as your
first sex slave. Have fun with her; she's a real honey.  You ought to
see the wardrobe she's got; be sure to have her put on a little fashion
show for you.  Oh, yeah: you ought to have her invite her little friends
over for a slumber party.  They've all been programmed; you will find
it very pleasant, I assure you.  Ken will contact you in a couple of
days; we need your help.  We're kinda overloaded, processing volume now.
We're in the schools, Barry.  Well, I've gotta get back; my girls get
cross if I'm gone too long."
[END]

Brian C. Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive
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