“Oh, hey, Angie. When did you get here?”
Psyonique looked worried as she leaned back in her chair. “About five minutes ago. And you’ve been staring into that bowl of Cheerios the entire time. Are you all right, Vickie?”
Victoria, blinked, and looked down at the quite soggy bowl of cereal in front of her. Oh well, at least Cheerios wasn’t one of those cereals that got positively inedible when it went completely soggy, like others. She ate a spoonful as she considered Angela’s question. “Yeah, I’m OK. I just didn’t sleep much last night.”
Angela’s look of concern became a distinct frown. “Not more nightmares, right?” Victoria had had nightmares after the Black Star incident for months, any time she didn’t take a sedative. But the risks of a chemically dependent superhuman with her abilities was not something worth considering if one considered how bad a normal junkie could be if they didn’t get their fix. It was one of the reasons they had finally been able to convince her to go see Doctor Morden, after all.
Victoria shook her head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just kept expecting the nightmares, you know? I’d almost forgotten what it was like to not have them. And that kept me going back to the incident again. And then I… just didn’t freak out like I had before. Which was freaky on its own. Doctor Morden told me what to expect. He said it is a normal part of the process, but even so, that’s not the same as actually going through it and experiencing it, you know?”
Angela breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that is good. And Morden is correct, psychic surgery is not a quick fix. Not if you’re doing it right. The quick ways either involve wiping your memories entirely, crafting new memories to substitute the real thing, or altering core parts of your personality so that you are happy with what happened. None of these are things any ethical mentalist would do in any but the most extreme cases, where traditional methods have already proven not to work. The risk of cognitive dissonance causing a chain reaction that undoes the work or leaves the person worse off than they were before is far too high. At that point, you essentially have to rewrite the person completely, or leave them with whatever form of insanity they develop. It is never pretty.”
Victoria nodded slowly. “You mentioned this before. That is one of the reasons you told me to see Doctor Morden instead of doing the procedure yourself, right?”
“Yes. It is rarely a good thing for mentalists to perform psychic surgery on people they have a connection to. Aside from all the normal reasons why a doctor treating a close friend or family member may be a bad idea, doing a proper job of it requires detachment. You have to be able to cruelly leave the patient suffering in the short term, even if it is less than they were suffering before. You do this so that they don’t suffer even more further down the line.”
She paused, and then continued. “If there were no other mentalists with the training to help you in the area, then I would have done it, of course. Once you agreed that you needed help, I wasn’t going to simply allow you to suffer needlessly. But you have to understand, the temptation to simply go in an ‘make’ you into your old self, or a better version of your old self, would be incredibly strong, since you’re my friend.”
Victoria giggled. “Well, next time a heavy object is laying on you, I’ll be sure to do the friendly thing and let you handle it.” They both laughed, knowing that Lady Victory would never leave one of the Defenders in danger if she could help it.
Angela smiled encouragingly. “So, if you weren’t having nightmares, what were you thinking about? If you don’t mind me asking. Perhaps talking about it would help settle things so you can get some sleep tonight?”
Victoria sighed. “Well, it is about what happened, you know? Before, I always had the raw emotions going along with the memories, so every time I remembered, it was like being back in that moment, and everything came crashing down on me. The feelings of helplessness and violation would overwhelm me, and make me a wreck.”
“Yes, I remember a few times I had to forcibly calm you to keep you from doing something dangerous. We were all worried that you were either going to hurt yourself or go off trying to hunt down Black Star. When he was captured by the Psy Ops forces, you had to be physically restrained to keep from going and murdering him in his cell.”
Another sigh escaped Victoria’s lips, and she had the grace to look slightly ashamed at her past actions. “Oh, don’t remind me about that! But yes, now, when I think about it, it is like watching a documentary about one of those big battles in World War II. Like Bastogne, or Stalingrad, you know? You know that there was a lot of dead people, and all kinds of horror and suffering, and you can see the pictures and video of all the horrible things that have been done, but it isn’t really real to you, because it wasn’t you, you weren’t there. It all happened to someone else, and all you’ve got is this video with a dispassionate narrator telling you the facts about what happened. And it makes an impact, sure, but it isn’t the same impact that you would get if you actually lived it, you know?”
She paused. “Having that effect in something you actually did live through is strange, let me tell you. But it did let me look at things differently. I still remember how my body felt, you know. How the bastards made me respond while they raped me.”
Angela nodded slowly. She was the team’s official counselor, so she had received a copy of Doctor Morden’s report on the procedure. While ethical concerns prevented her from doing anything with her active powers to help her team, her passive empathic abilities allowed her to help them more often than not. She had been able to tell that Victoria’s trauma from the incident was too great, and too deep, for simple counseling to get her through it without years of work, assuming she ever truly recovered. Psychic surgery was used for just these cases, to give the patient a chance to recover on their own.
Victoria didn’t notice Angela’s nodding, her eyes locked on the bowl of cereal before her. “I realized that my body was responding to what happened because it felt good. Sex felt good. It was everything around it that was causing me to freak out. I didn’t get to choose. I didn’t want it. My faith told me it was wrong. I was trapped in my body, moving according to that bastard’s commands. I felt dirty, unclean.”
“I still remember all of that, but now it is off to the side, separate from the sensations. I remember sex feeling good. I remember it being good, my body responding. But the negative stuff is off to the side, you know?”
Angela nodded. “Did Doctor Morden tell you why he left those sensations when he was detaching other parts of the memories?” She knew why he did it, of course. It was written in his report, in clinical terms. She even agreed with it, for the most part, though she perhaps would have gone about it differently if she had been the one to do the surgery. But that led into all the reasons one needed a dispassionate hand controlling the ‘knife’ when conducting such surgery.
Victoria nodded, and swallowed some more cereal as she collected her thoughts. “He did. He said that it was for my long-term mental health. S-sex is a normal part of life. Even religious people have sex, unless they’ve taken vows. Not having a healthy sex life would cause me problems down the road. He wants me to understand that sex itself isn’t bad, it was the situation that was bad.”
Angela nodded. “Well, it seems that you’ve started making some progress already, and it has only been a few days since your session.” She, personally, wouldn’t have left her friend’s rape as the example of ‘sex can feel good’, but it wasn’t her call. And, she admitted to herself, it wasn’t like the Doctor had a great deal of material to work with unless he started creating new memories for Victoria, and that came with the same potential problems that simply removing the memories and trauma altogether would have. She could see why he did it, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
Victoria smiled, and said, “Yeah, I think I am. I know you and the others have been worried about me ever since the incident. It seems so stupid of me, now, keeping everything in and not admitting that I needed hel
p, even when you were all telling me that I needed to talk to someone, and that it wasn’t my fault. The only thing that was my fault was not suspecting that a mentalist would be involved, and having someone closer on hand to monitor me, in case I was taken. I thought I could handle anything that they threw at me.”
Angela smiled warmly. This was what she had hoped to see when Victoria finally broke down and went to see Doctor Morden. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart! You needed to come to the conclusion that you needed help on your own. While you weren’t exactly finding healthy ways of coping with the strain, you weren’t past the point of being a threat to yourself and others, so it would have been counterproductive for us to force it on you. You had to want to get better for this to work. Now that you’ve crossed that hurdle, everything will get easier, in time.”
Victoria bit her lip, and nervously looked over to Angela. “So, this may sound crazy coming from me, but I was wondering how I could go about f-finding a d-date for the weekend. I don’t want to just go out there and slut it up, or anything, but I know you all have been worried about my social life, what with it being two years since I went out for fun. Maybe it is time for me to start living a bit?”
Angela grinned, and said, “Well, that is certainly a good first step. Now, I will say that dating inside the team itself is generally a bad idea. This might not be the military, but having relationships like that between team members can cause strain on the group as a whole. Some of the support staff, however, would certainly be an acceptable option. Or did you want to try and get out of the ‘bubble’?”
Victoria gulped, before shaking her head violently. “No, the team is all ladies, except for Max, and he’s married! I am NOT going to be a homewrecker for Max and Christine! And no, no girls. I know you… enjoy both men and women, and I’d never judge you on that, but, for me, I’m just not interested in women like that. I can tell a woman’s beautiful, sure, but that doesn’t mean I want to… do things with them.”
Teasingly, Angela poked her friend. “OK, so no homewrecking, and no ladies. That leaves some of the support staff here at headquarters, or someone from outside the bubble.” She paused, and then said, “So, do you have anyone in mind, or are you looking for someone to arrange a blind date for you? I happen to know more than a few lovely men who would be more than happy to help you work through things. Respectful guys, too, that won’t try and pressure you.”
“W-well, I do have someone in mind, but I don’t know if he would agree. There might be some ethical things involved. I wouldn’t want to get shot down because he can’t risk his career just to have a date with me, you know?”
Angela got that look on her face that all women had when a piece of particularly juicy gossip fell into their laps. “Ooh, the plot thickens! Tell me, who is this mysterious person that has captured our lovely maiden’s attention, hmm?”
“Well, have you ever seen a picture of Doctor Morden?” Victoria paused, and then pulled out her phone, quickly bringing up a picture she had saved from his social media profile. Blushing furiously, she handed the phone over to Angela.
“Hmm. The patient falling for the sexy doctor? Oh yes, I can see why you might like to enjoy seeing him. A delicious piece of manmeat there.” Angela handed the phone back, and said, in a more concerned voice, “Before you go asking him, though, can I ask you a few questions? I just want to make sure you’re safe, after all.”
Chapter 6 – Return Visit
I smiled as Sandy let Victoria into my office for her second session. This was the first test, after all. If I had done my work correctly, this would be the first step in turning Victoria into my slave, as I had done to Sandy. If I had pushed too hard, made the changes too visible, then she would not have returned, or would have come with her friend Psyonique as backup. There was always the idea that I had not pushed far enough, but the nervous smile on Victoria’s face, combined with the surface thoughts running through her head, were enough to convince me that the seed had been planted properly, and was already sprouting.
“Ah, Victoria! I’m glad to see you on time for our next appointment. I must say, it is refreshing to have a patient being such a good girl. Usually people start getting second thoughts after the first session, or think that a single treatment makes them magically better, and they end up doing greater harm to themselves in the long run.”
If I hadn’t been watching her, I would have missed her reaction when I used the trigger I had placed in her mind. My voice, using those words, directed at her, triggered a little something I had left buried in her mind, just waiting for me to activate it. I saw her face flush, and she almost stumbled as she entered the room. In fact, I believe she flew for a second there to keep herself from falling. She bit her lip nervously before smiling at me.
Breathlessly, she said, “Oh, um, Alfred, I uh, well, I thought about it. But that would have been very rude to you, and my friends already said that they wouldn’t hear of me not continuing to get treatment. They were worried about me when I was getting nightmares.”
I rose from behind my desk and said, “Well, that is why we are having these follow-up sessions, Victoria. When one has gone through trauma, even if the source of the trauma has been removed, that doesn’t mean everything is fully healed and back to normal. What we are doing here is a process. Each step may seem like a small one, especially after the first big one, but they are essential to keep you from developing conditions that would harm your long-term mental health.”
Stepping around the desk, I decided to test things, and see how deeply the programming had already set in her. Moving to her side, I reached out with one hand, placing it at the small of her back as I smiled at her, and gestured to the couch and chairs. “Since we’ve started on this already, I suggest we have the session first, and then we will talk about the profile of the dastardly Mesmero. Would you like the couch again today, or the chairs?” As I spoke, I applied just a bit of pressure with my hand, guiding her forwards.
She tensed for a second at the contact, before relaxing into the touch, allowing me to guide her to the couch, where she lay down obediently. This was a good sign, a good sign indeed. Now, I just had to continue reinforcing her programming, so that it would guide her into her new place in life.
“Now, why don’t you tell me about these nightmares?”
(Victoria POV)
Oh, god, what happened to me just then? The moment Alfred called me a ‘good girl’, I just felt so good. I… did I cum a little just from hearing him praise me? Oh, wow, I must be more messed up than I thought. It is a good thing I’m here, where it is safe, working through everything. Who knows how bad I might have gotten if I hadn’t broken down and agreed to therapy?
But I must be getting better! Ever since Black Star, I haven’t been able to handle men touching me. Before, I would have flinched away (or even attacked!) if a man touched me like that. Now, though, I barely even froze, before I was able to accept the touch for the friendly gesture it was. Progress!
Damn, it is so pathetic to be going on about how much better I am because I can handle a clearly platonic touch. What a mess I’ve become. No, none of that. That’s what I’m here for, to get better, and make my life less of a clusterfuck than it has been these last two years.
That’s something else I never used to do. I was always a good, Christian girl, and never did anything beyond kissing with the boys. I never cursed, or anything like that. When did I start cursing? I can’t remember. Probably sometime after the incident. I had already been sullied, raped in body and mind, so why pretend to be pure? Yeah, it was probably then that I started cursing. Never a lot, and never the really bad ones, not out loud, but at least in my head I could curse.
“Now, why don’t you tell me about these nightmares?”
Oh, shit, I mentioned the nightmares to him! Well, he probably already knew. Angela would have put a note in my file about them, probably. So, he already knew. And he waited until I brought it up to start the discussion. Waiting on me to b
e ready, maybe? That’s what psychiatrists do, right?
The wave of warmth and safety settled over me, like last time. Ah, that was nice. So nice. So safe. Relaxed. Yes, Alfred wants to know about the nightmares. I didn’t like the nightmares, but this was a safe place. Safe to talk about them.
“They are never all the same. Some aren’t as bad. Not really nightmares, just a bad dream, feeling like I’m tied up, can’t move. Those ones aren’t so bad. Most of the time, I am back in that warehouse, living it again and again. The faces change. Sometimes, they are real as can be. Sometimes, they are blank, like someone blurred them out. The worst ones, though, are when I am still at the theater.”
“What happens at the theater?” Another wave of warmth and comfort settled over her. She could do this. Alfred wanted her to do this. She couldn’t disappoint him.
“I am sitting in my seat, and I notice Black Star sitting next to me. The play isn’t the play anymore. I’m watching myself on stage. Everyone’s watching me on stage. Everyone watches as Black Star takes control of me, and uses me, and sells me. They all laugh, and call me a slut and a whore. And when the time comes that the team would rescue me, they don’t come. The one who bought me, he has the audience form a line, and they take me, one after the other. All the time, I’m sitting in my seat, watching this, with Black Star next to me, his hand under my skirt. I can’t stop him. And then, he pulls me into his lap…”
SCI Stories: Book 1 - Tainted Victory Page 4