NovelAI Scenario: Talk For Mommy

Description

War sees many tactics. Anything to get an advantage, and that includes getting information out of captured soldiers. And while torture and psychological terror can get results, maybe a bit of a different, softer approach could do the trick just as well? After all, who wouldn't tell the truth to mommy?

Tags

first person, military, interrogation, war, prison, mommy genre invader friday

Prompt

Banging against the cell door wakes me from an uncomfortable sleep on a crappy prison bed. "Get up, you runt! Get up before I get in there and bash your fucking skull in!" the prison guard yells with an intensity that does a great job of getting one to stumble into a standing position, into some clothes, and towards the door. There, I am quickly grabbed and shoved in a direction of some sorts, I'm still not awake enough to really process much right now. So I basically just continue stumbling along whatever direction I'm being nudged towards, at times helpfully pressed onwards by the butt of a rifle. "You're gonna talk yet, scumbag!" he adds, which is a strange thing to say because I don't believe anyone's actually attempted to get any information out of me yet. Actually, I've only been here for two days. Maybe these guys are just overworked and treat everybody the same because they can't be bothered telling their prisoners apart. Eventually, I reach my destination, a featureless gray room with two chairs, a plain table, a flickering lamp, and nothing much else. I am shoved onto one of the two chairs, then the guard departs with a mocking "Miss Yoshida will see you soon." That's a name I've heard before. With the walls in this military prison being surprisingly thin, I've overheard some guard chatter about this Miss Yoshida. Apparently, she is a—if not the—lead interrogator here, and seems to be renowned for an ability to get results. However, apart from that, there wasn't much told about her, which paints a sort of strangely mythical image of her. And now that I've got some actual time to catch my breath and let my mind wander, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. Images of a rough old crone with steel-toed boots and a mile-wide mean streak come to mind, and I wonder if I'm even going to get out of this without several broken limbs or God knows what else. But to my surprise, when the door opens, what steps in is instead a rather unassuming looking young woman with a smile on her face, wearing a beret and sharp dress uniform. She sits down on the other chair, looking me over with great interest. "Ara ara~" she coos. "What a good boy we have here today..." In the end, I can only try and confirm what I assume. "Are... are you Miss Yoshida, by any chance?" I ask her, genuinely confused now. This is the elite interrogator? She lets out a playful sigh. "Oh, that's so cold. Please, call me Ayako. Or, if you want to, sweetie... you can call me mommy," she says, and the mood immediately shifts. This is utterly bizarre, and I am stunned into silence while she reaches across the table, placing her hand on top of mine and gently caressing it. "You're such a good boy, I can tell. A good boy that tried to do a good job for his country, only to be hung out to dry. They don't deserve a good boy like you, Connor," she continues, her voice soft, almost melodic. "Mommy knows you deserve better. A nice bedroom, good food, safety from all the fighting, away from all those mean guards... that's what the really good boys get. They get to be happy with mommy. Can you be a really good boy for me?" By now, I'm completely flabbergasted. What the hell is this woman pulling? "I... wh-what?" I stammer out, unable to form any real sentences. And she's not letting up at all. Instead, she gets up from the chair, walks over to my side of the table, and ever so slightly brushes her hand against my cheek. "Mommy loves her really good boys. And she loves giving her good boys hugs. Can you give me a hug, sweetie?" she asks, taking my hand and pulling me into a standing position before embracing me, with me following along almost on some sort of strange instinct. One of her hands moves to the back of my head, pressing it into her soft chest. Even through the dress uniform shirt, there's something so soft about it. "Just tell Mommy what you know about those meanies that sent you out on that dangerous mission that got you hurt. Tell Mommy everything... and she'll reward you," she then says, practically worming herself into my mind and adding a faint, but loving little peck on my forehead.... [Click to expand]

Banging against the cell door wakes me from an uncomfortable sleep on a crappy prison bed. "Get up, you runt! Get up before I get in there and bash your fucking skull in!" the prison guard yells with an intensity that does a great job of getting one to stumble into a standing position, into some clothes, and towards the door. There, I am quickly grabbed and shoved in a direction of some sorts, I'm still not awake enough to really process much right now. So I basically just continue stumbling along whatever direction I'm being nudged towards, at times helpfully pressed onwards by the butt of a rifle. "You're gonna talk yet, scumbag!" he adds, which is a strange thing to say because I don't believe anyone's actually attempted to get any information out of me yet. Actually, I've only been here for two days. Maybe these guys are just overworked and treat everybody the same because they can't be bothered telling their prisoners apart. Eventually, I reach my destination, a featureless gray room with two chairs, a plain table, a flickering lamp, and nothing much else. I am shoved onto one of the two chairs, then the guard departs with a mocking "Miss Yoshida will see you soon."

That's a name I've heard before. With the walls in this military prison being surprisingly thin, I've overheard some guard chatter about this Miss Yoshida. Apparently, she is a—if not the—lead interrogator here, and seems to be renowned for an ability to get results. However, apart from that, there wasn't much told about her, which paints a sort of strangely mythical image of her. And now that I've got some actual time to catch my breath and let my mind wander, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. Images of a rough old crone with steel-toed boots and a mile-wide mean streak come to mind, and I wonder if I'm even going to get out of this without several broken limbs or God knows what else. But to my surprise, when the door opens, what steps in is instead a rather unassuming looking young woman with a smile on her face, wearing a beret and sharp dress uniform. She sits down on the other chair, looking me over with great interest. "Ara ara~" she coos. "What a good boy we have here today..."

In the end, I can only try and confirm what I assume. "Are... are you Miss Yoshida, by any chance?" I ask her, genuinely confused now. This is the elite interrogator?

She lets out a playful sigh. "Oh, that's so cold. Please, call me Ayako. Or, if you want to, sweetie... you can call me mommy," she says, and the mood immediately shifts. This is utterly bizarre, and I am stunned into silence while she reaches across the table, placing her hand on top of mine and gently caressing it. "You're such a good boy, I can tell. A good boy that tried to do a good job for his country, only to be hung out to dry. They don't deserve a good boy like you, Connor," she continues, her voice soft, almost melodic. "Mommy knows you deserve better. A nice bedroom, good food, safety from all the fighting, away from all those mean guards... that's what the really good boys get. They get to be happy with mommy. Can you be a really good boy for me?"

By now, I'm completely flabbergasted. What the hell is this woman pulling? "I... wh-what?" I stammer out, unable to form any real sentences.

And she's not letting up at all. Instead, she gets up from the chair, walks over to my side of the table, and ever so slightly brushes her hand against my cheek. "Mommy loves her really good boys. And she loves giving her good boys hugs. Can you give me a hug, sweetie?" she asks, taking my hand and pulling me into a standing position before embracing me, with me following along almost on some sort of strange instinct. One of her hands moves to the back of my head, pressing it into her soft chest. Even through the dress uniform shirt, there's something so soft about it. "Just tell Mommy what you know about those meanies that sent you out on that dangerous mission that got you hurt. Tell Mommy everything... and she'll reward you," she then says, practically worming herself into my mind and adding a faint, but loving little peck on my forehead.

Memory

I am Private Connor Wilson of the 13th Infantry Division, freshly pressed into service through the draft and pushed through basic training in order to get to the front line as fast as possible, then further pushed beyond the front line on an infiltration mission. To the surprise of nobody but my CO, I was swiftly caught and incarcerated in an enemy facility. I will not lie, my conviction to stay strong and fight for my country is just about at rock bottom right now—not that it was ever high.

World Info

View World Info

Ayako, Yoshida, mommy
Apparently, this lady people call "Miss Yoshida" has a reputation around whatever enemy military facility I was brought to after being captured. From what little I've heard, she seems to be an elite interrogator with a knack for getting whatever information she desires out of enemy forces. But while that might imply a strict, rigorous figure that is adept in torture and breaks fingers as a greeting, I was surprised to find her to be practically the opposite. There is something motherly about her, an approachable quality in her soft, well kept, long black hair and her equally soft-looking expression. Of course, there's pretty clearly something motherly about her when she openly asks to be called "Mommy", or by her first name, Ayako, and calls everybody her "good boys" and "sweeties". In addition, she is very touchy-feely, be it with hugs, caresses, little kisses... the list goes on. Honestly, I can't really tell if she's genuinely this gentle and doting, or if this is just some sort of diabolical ploy to try and pry as much information out of people. Then again, does it really matter?

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Ayako, Yoshida, mommy