Rapt for Christmas

When Sara dumped Tim, his father had her turned brainwashed into an obedient doll, just in time for Christmas.

[Warning: this 12,400-word short story contains vivid depictions of a helpless subject under intense mind control. She sucks, spreads and obeys, and has no choice but to love it.]

Excerpt:
“Sara,” Doctor Muller’s voice was close, sending a tingle of pleasure down my spine, “Wake up.”
‹Wake up.›
The good doctor’s voice echoed in my brain again, snapping me to awareness. I blinked rapidly, aware of a cool, smooth surface beneath my body. I was sitting in something like a hospital bed or dentist’s chair, and the room around me looked like a medical examination room of some kind. There were computer displays behind the doctor, and the seat I was in had a large apparatus over me, with lenses and lights.
There was a younger man beside me. He looked like Eric, from my dream about being sponge bathed. He was at the end of the chair, unstrapping my ankles from black leather restraints.
It seemed like there might be something wrong with that, but I felt too good to care. Instead of addressing it directly, I replied, “Good morning, Sir. What’s going on?”
As I asked, Eric finished with my legs and headed for a nearby workstation, typing away at the computer without a backward glance.
The doctor stepped beside me, tablet in hand and explained, “We’re continuing your treatment, Sara. Do you remember us talking about that?”
I nodded and said, “Yes, Sir. I had a brain… something in my brain that made me have problems.” I smiled and added, “You took it out.”
He smiled back and said, “That’s exactly right. Good girl.” He tapped the tablet, then asked, “Do you remember what unpleasant side effect that caused?”
‹Good girl.›
I shivered in pleasure at his praise, then replied eagerly, “It made me have trouble remembering things.”
That should’ve bothered me, but all I really wanted was for him to call me a good girl again.
Muller nodded and said, “That’s right.” He patted the machine over my head and said, “Because of the operation, we had to put a special chip in your brain. It’s like a pacemaker, but for your thinking. It syncs with this larger device,” he patted the machine over my head, “And the pair stimulate your brain.”