TRIGGER WARNING - Adult content - No minors.
I am challenging myself to write a story with no dialogue. Just narration. This is not what I am used to, so the result may be, well, worse than usual. So be it. In any case, this story is directly inspired by chats with one of the cunts I've trained the longest. If no one else enjoys it, at the very least I know the story will help make her dehumanization process deeper and more inescapable. Anything beyond that is icing on the cake.
He looked at the view outside his office. Tokyo lay below him, vast and full of possibilities. He sipped his tea with as little pretension as he could manage for a westerner. He did enjoy it, but he was fully aware he was not a connoisseur. No matter, he liked what he liked and that's all that mattered.
Below, his booths were collecting revenue day and night all over the city. A combination of luck and inspiration. Now in the hundreds, you could find a booth just a few blocks away from your location. In a quiet dark alley, or in the back of a store. The ones underground, by the subway ticket machines were surprisingly popular.
All you needed was the app to guide you to the closest one. So far supply could keep up with demand and there were never more than a few people waiting in line to enter the booths. Worst case, if you could not wait, you could walk 5 minutes to the next closest one.
Five minutes for 100 yen was so cheap it pretty much guaranteed a steady stream of customers day and night.
He remembered fondly how the idea came to mind.
Conditioning had always been a time consuming process. The first part was fairly easy. The girls would pretty much get themselves trapped initially. They came from all over. A recommendation from a friend, a repost on social media, an internet search for a particular fantasy. One way or another, hundreds of girls every month would start reading the posts on his "fantasy role play" website and get slowly brainwashed. The human mind is extremely prone to addiction. All it needs is a little push in the right direction.
Once a girl reached a certain stage though, deepening her conditioning required a bit more supervision in order for the changes to become permanent and inescapable. Sure, the process would complete itself eventually even without the trainer's guidance, but to speed things up and make the brainwashing more efficient, customizing the training for each girl was necessary. Or, if not necessary, it was a pastime he did enjoy enough to devote many hours a week to it.
Eventually though, there were too many girls to manage.
Of course, objectification was a standard aspect of brainwashing, but some girls were especially susceptible to it. One in particular got really deep into identifying herself with her large tits. He had spent quite a bit of time implanting useful ideas in her soft and eager mind. Eventually she had accepted that her entire identity revolved around her tits. She was not a person. Just tits. And her purpose in life was to please others by being groped. With time her mind had opened up and weakened so that he could do as he pleased with it. Strengthening her fixation with her own tits, and locking away or deleting all other aspects of her mind that were in the way.
He delighted in hearing her beg to have her memories, personality, hobbies, desires, decisions, goals, vocabulary, all deleted. She did not need any of those things. She was a pair of tits. All she needed was to be groped. She happily accepted that groping was maintenance. Every time her tits were groped her mind would lose more and more of her sense of self. She was nothing but tits. Groping was maintenance. Having tits meant consent. That last point really broke her mind after a while. An odd statement that, nonetheless burrowed deep into her subconscious and quickly destroyed more and more of her old identity.
The challenge then was to maintain her blanked state of mind for longer and longer periods of time until it would be locked permanently. Sure, he had her spend hours squeezing and kneading her own tits while turning herself more and more into a mindless object. But it would never be as effective as her experiencing others using her as an object. After all, training taught the girls that the way others view you overrides the way you view yourself. If everyone around you sees you as an object, you will soon see yourself as an object as well.
So he had the first prototype prepared by an engineer. A booth, similar to a photo booth. Customers would enter, they'd insert a coin, a panel would slide up to reveal a pair of tits for them to do as they please for a few minutes. The girl inside was gagged, and firmly restrained. Secured to what looked like a bicycle seat with two dildos on it. She was stuffed and immobilized. Incapable of moving or making any sound. Earbuds and a VR headset kept her mind occupied, docile, and broken.
And that was how it started. Now there were hundreds of these booths around the city. And a few in other cities as well. Those who did not know what the booth was for, would just mistake it for a purikura. Those who did know, would be able to access the "special features" through the phone app.
After a few months of testing, he discovered that most girls would be able to spend 10 or more hours in the booth with no negative effects. Physical effects, that is. The effects on the mind however were unclear, but considering that before ending up in the booths, the girls all had begged to be enslaved, dehumanized, and mind-wiped, keeping them in a blank, mindless state for hours at a time every day seemed like the ideal fate for them. Not that they would be able to say otherwise. After a few months most of them lost the ability to talk or even formulate any thoughts at all. Scans showed very little activity in the booth girls' brains, although the pleasure centers would register some faint response to the groping. In his mind, that was good enough to declare the enterprise a success.
