It started as a thought. A strange little thought. Of course as a Tinkerer all her thoughts were strange little thoughts. They hadn't steered her wrong yet. This one came from watching two people get off a roller coaster at the state fair.
"Let's go on the tilt-o-whirl," the boy said.
"I wanna play a game," the girl countered
"We could ride that roller coaster again."
"No, we'll do tilt-o-whirl."
It was innocent. The thoughts it caused were not. Could you break someone's will with a ride? Could you use it to induce Stockholm syndrome with one? She had to find out.
It took time to design it out. It took time to find all the materials. It took a lot longer to build it. More than a year later it was ready for a trial run. She put an ad on Craig's List to find a test pilot. She was specific in her request: man in good shape 18 to 35. She hadn't requested cute but she got it. He was a brown eyed barely legal boy whose wide eyed innocence she would enjoy destroying.
"As I said in the ad," she told him. "I'm starting my own ride design firm and need someone to test out my first creation."
That was a lie ... except for the last part.
"I'm ready to go when you are."
"Excellent."
She drove him out into the patch of woods where her trap was set. It looked like a roller coaster but it was so much more. The only car was circular like a tea cup. She latched him in and fired it up. The cup began to spin slowly, then sped up. Then it really began to spin. Way too fast the boy thought, it was pinning him back in his seat like a centrifuge. Then the linear induction kicked in and the spinning car went flying down the track up a hill, spinning, looping, corkscrewing, all while spinning at that same manic speed. There were drops and tunnels and God only knew what else. He saw the station coming up. Thank God. Just as it entered a second pulse sent it back into the fray for a second trip. This bitch was trying to kill him!
The ride continued like this for five loops before stopping. It unlatched but he was too weak to stand. Finally he did. Suddenly a door in the floor opened and he fell down a dark chute into a strange dark sensation-less void. He couldn't process it but he had fallen into a sensory deprivation tank. The Tinkerer left for lunch. A few hours later she helped him out. He was shaking and confused. She helped him up the stairs and into a seat.
"Thank you." he breathed.
A lap bar locked down.
"No," was all he said before the car started spinning.
Another five laps later he came to a rest crying. The lap bar released. He tried to stand. The door in the floor opened again. She went to dinner. When she let him out this time he was like a frightened animal trying to fight his way to freedom. She expected this giving him a mild sedative injection which slowed him down enough for her to get back up stairs and on the ride. He was openly crying when he was sent off for the third pass. When she pulled him out of the tank he was quiet, docile, submissive. He was ready.
She drove him home. She changed him into pajamas, fed him a nice dinner, laid down on the couch with him and soothed him as they watched movies all night. She spent the next day catering to his every need. They made love all night. Three weeks passed and he never attempted to leave. He seemed to be in love with her. As he lay curled up next to her in bed she pulled out her journal. "Trial run complete," she wrote, "On to phase two."