The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sasha Volkov felt as if she were in a waking nightmare.

Trudging along naked across the expansive lawn at night was embarrassing enough. Doing so at the behest of a man practically half her age that had beaten her in hand-to-hand combat, then brainwashed her into obedience was infinitely moreso. She followed along behind him silently, unable to voice her anger or frustration, and completely unable to act of her own volition.

She did grudgingly, give him credit where it was due. In her forty-six years, she had faced many tough adversaries, but none quite like this dark-skinned ninja man. Originally from Russia, she’d served as a member of the then-KGB, as a soldier, then specialist, before being discharged. Afterward, she’d continued using her training, hiring herself out to the highest bidder, simply using the skills she had been blessed with. Becoming an expert marksman was a result of training and hard work, but her skill with knives was entirely self-taught. It was her specialty, her gift. And of the three hundred plus lives she’d taken in her career, more than two-thirds of them had been with a blade.

Which made it all the more vexing that she’d been unable to kill this fucking bastard when she’d had the chance.

And so she was forced to stand by and watch silently as he made his way to the guardhouse, disabling him, and placing James under his control as well. Making it to the front door, he’d barked at her, compelling her to input her alarm code to unlock the door, striding inside as if he owned the place. Sasha held out a slim measure of hope that perhaps one of the servants was up and awake, that they would catch sight of them and raise an alarm. Alas, the household was dark and quiet, the servants had retired for the night. And though the path upstairs to the Master bedroom was clear, the dark-skinned intruder decided to be thorough in his conquest, making a beeline for the servant’s quarters, proceeding to take them all, one by one, imprinting his will upon them just as he had to Sasha.

Zeb frowned slightly as he entered the final servant’s bedroom, finding it unoccupied. Hmmm. According to my information, this should be the room of the main maid, Tiffani. We didn’t pass her on the way here... though it’s possible that she might have left to use the bathroom, or to the kitchen for a drink. He sighed inwardly, shaking his head. I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m irritable. I need to continue on and end this with Anthony Rios while I still can. If the missing maid ends up becoming an issue later, I will just deal with her when it comes up. Glancing over at the entranced assassin once more, he nodded. “Come. We’re going to see your boss now. Let’s move.”

Sasha let out a soft sigh, the most expression she was allowed to show her displeasure. Still holding her sniper rifle at the ready, she made her way back to the main lobby and headed upstairs. She frowned slightly as they neared the Master bedroom, the sounds of feminine laughter, and moaning from inside confirming the occupants were awake and active. She paused, glancing at her controller briefly, sighing inwardly as he nodded... and brusquely pushed open the bedroom door, stepping inside, taking aim at the bed.

Immediately, the two women lying atop it let out a loud scream, sitting up. “Aaaaahhh! Shit! What the fuck?!?” a deeply tanned brunette yelled, hastily grabbing the bedsheet, pulling it up over her naked body. “Who the HELL are you?” she shouted angrily, as her bed partner, an attractive, large-breasted blonde, scooted as close and behind the older woman as she could manage. “What do you think you’re doing in my house?”

“Forgive the intrusion,” Zeb said stepping forward. “I assume you are Mrs. Carmen Rios? I am here to see your husband. We have a serious matter to discuss.”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed. “You’re here for Tony? Huh... that fuckin’ figures,” she huffed. “Well, as you can see, he ain’t here! So why don’t you and your naked little whore get the FUCK out of my house before I call the cops... or better yet, call security to fucking shoot you in the face!”

Zeb’s expression darkened. “I’ve actually had enough of being shot for one night,” he replied stiffly, crossing his arms. “And no, I’m not leaving. You’re going to tell me where your husband is, and I’m going to finish my business with him once and for all!”

“Fuck you, you arrogant black Sambo son of a bitch!” Carmen snarled back. “I ain’t telling you shit! Do you have any fucking idea who you’re threatening here?”

The girl clutching her arms shivered. “Please, Miss Carmen! You shouldn’t provoke him! That girl with him is carrying a gun,” she whimpered.

Zeb sighed inwardly. “The gun is not an issue. It was merely... insurance, in case your dear Tony had a habit of bringing his own gun to bed with him.” He turned and gestured to Sasha, who lowered the weapon. “Now then... please answer my question. Where is your husband?”

Carmen merely rolled her eyes. “Hmph. I have no idea, nor do I care. If you want him so badly, then go look for him yourself!”

Reaching the limits of his patience, Zeb strode over to the bed, staring down at the woman. “I’m done asking you nicely. Now, for the last time, where is your husband? Where is Anthony Rios?!?”

Carmen blinked, momentarily stunned at being yelled at by this stranger. But her natural stubborn streak soon reasserted herself, and she sat up, leaning directly into him. “Fuck you! I have no idea where that fucking piece of shit is. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you! So you can go fuck yourself!”

Her smug look of superiority morphed into one of shock, however, when Zeb suddenly grabbed her arm. “No thank you. Someone here WILL be getting fucked, however,” he said as his eyes flashed amber, and hers rolled back into her head...

In the bathroom, Zeb gently and gingerly removed his shirt, gritting his teeth as peeling the fabric from his chest opened scabbed over wounds once more. Barechested, he moved to the mirror, took a good long look at the damage, and winced. Shit. It’s about the way I envisioned, he thought to himself. His skin was a massive crisscrossed mass of cuts and abrasions, all of which were slightly oozing blood. There were two, however, that were much deeper and painful, from when Sasha had stabbed into him. Both wounds were, thankfully, at non-vital areas, missing his organs. The kevlar had prevented the blade from penetrating him, however, the sharp edge had still managed to rend his flesh.

Sighing, he turned to the side, glancing at what had concerned him the most. As he’d thought, his back was already beginning to bruise, a large wide area discolored. Glancing closer, he could see areas all around the impact area as swollen, the muscles knotted and tense, the exact kinds of muscle trauma he treated at his spa. Huh. Well... all things considered, it could have been much worse, he mused. The kevlar took the brunt of the hit and kept me from being shishkabobbed. And to think I’d almost chosen not to wear it, preferring the looser lighter clothing for freedom of movement...

Switching on the shower, he stripped off the rest of his clothing, then slipped into the hot steamy waters. Closing his eyes, he stood underneath the torrent, letting the hot water cleanse and soothe his battered body, as he turned his focus inward. With a bit of effort, he slipped into a healing trance, shutting out the outside world, focusing all of his energy and attention on his wounds. More of a mentalism skill, Franz had insisted that a hypnotist could manage it as well, with enough focus and training. The human body regularly replaced damaged cells and regenerated injured sections of itself. By intense focus, he was merely speeding up the process, guiding his body’s energy to where it was most needed. When he snapped out of his trance sometime later, shivering to the water gone cold, he felt much better. Switching off the water, he dried himself, checking the mirror again to see that most of the cuts and stab wounds had healed significantly.

Ah... much better, he mused, pleasantly surprised. The back is still a bit stiff, but I don’t feel like its a struggle to move or breathe anymore. Satisfied, he switched off the light and returned to the bedroom.

The room’s three occupants were exactly as he’d left them, all three kneeling in the middle of the room, staring ahead blankly in the midst of a deep deep hypnotic trance. Showering and tending to his wounds had done wonders for his mood, helping to clear his mind. His beast was back on his leash again, and he felt solidly in control. Not that he didn’t fully intend to go through with what he’d planned for the women under his sway. He merely recalled now that the main focus of his ire was directed at Anthony, not the members of his household. Everything he did to them would be merely a warm-up to the real event.

Striding across the room naked, he peered at each one for a moment, then continued on, moving to the bedroom door. “You can come in now,” he stated, waiting idly as two men entered. Kenneth Friedman, a tall stocky black man, served as the Rios family’s butler, while Carlos Satana, a slightly shorter Mexican man, served as the mansion’s groundskeeper. Both men had been programmed into obedience, though they both expressed surprise at finding everyone in the room completely nude. “I need to provide an objective lesson to these women, and I will require your aid shortly. Until then, go and stand quietly in that corner, and watch until I call for you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kenneth stated.

“Si, Senor,” Carlos replied.

“Oh, and one last thing,” Zeb called out. “Both of you strip naked. You won’t feel ashamed or embarrassed about being naked among the others in this room,” he added, “unlike the women.” Walking over to the trio, he tapped all three lightly on the forehead then stepped back. All three women, blinked, becoming aware once again. As expected, each reacted differently, with Carmen yelling and cursing violently, Tiffani cowering and weeping quietly, and Sasha staying silently, merely glaring up at him in defiance.

“Attention, ladies,” he said loudly, causing them to quiet down. “Now that I have had a moment to clean up a bit, I believe it is time that I explained a few things and told you how everything will be from now on. My name is Zebediah Clark. I am a hypnotist, and I have hypnotized all of you. You are all my complete and total slaves, obedient to my will—”

“Bullshit!” Carmen snapped, struggling to move, fighting the compulsion to remain kneeling until told to get up. “Hypnotism is a bunch of mumbo jumbo! This is some stupid circus trick or something... it’s gotta be!”

Zeb merely raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh really? A nonbeliever, I see. Then prove it. I’m going to order you to do something, and all you have to do to prove I’m not controlling you is to refuse to do it.”

Carmen blinked, suddenly unsure. “Um, okay, fine!” she said bravely. “Bring it on!”

“Stand up,” Zeb ordered in a firm tone. Carmen gasped softly, finding herself standing on her feet before the words even registered. “Move to the bed, lean forward, on your elbows, and push your ass up and out.”

“What? N-no! No! I w-won’t!” she yelled, struggling to control herself even as her body began moving on its own, obeying as ordered. “Fuck! Stop this! Stop it!” she yelled in vain, as her ample ass extended outward invitingly.

Zeb smirked. “I trust I’ve made a believer out of you now?” he asked rhetorically, “or do you need more proof?”

“Fine! You win! You made your point!” Carmen yelled back, still struggling to move out of her humiliating position. “Now let me go!”

But Zeb shook his head sadly. “Apparently you still don’t seem to understand. You belong to me now. Permanently. Or, at least until I tire of you and sell you off to the highest bidder.” He glance over at Tiffani, whose eyes had gone wide at his casual spoken threat. “Now for you. Stand up and walk to the other side of the bed. And bend over in the same pose as Carmen facing her.”

“Oh! Oh no! Please! Please!” the maid cried, tears welling up in her eyes as she stood up as well. “Don’t do this to me! Please! I didn’t do anything!”

“That is true,” Zeb replied, nodding. “You are unlucky enough to be guilty by association. However, I will take that into consideration.” Once she has assumed the position, he turned his attention to the last one kneeling. “And now, you. Sasha, was it? You have been quiet through this entire experience. As the first to be enthralled, perhaps your perspective might help the others to better understand their situation. You may now speak freely.”

Sasha scowled, working her tongue carefully in her mouth that had gone dry from nonuse. “You want my perspective?” she spat, her accent heavy in her disapproving tone. “You are bully. This is all an attempt to scare us, make us feel frightened, and surrender to you... to make your job easier.” She glanced at the other two women. “I do not know about the others, but I intend to fight you with everything I have until the very end!”

“Well put,” Zeb remarked drily. “Not the response I wanted, but exactly what I expected.” Shaking his head, he addressed all three women. “Sasha was incorrect on one fundamental issue, however. I do not want your fear. I want your respect. And I need your servitude. But in their absence, I will have your obedience.” He gestured to Kenneth and Carlos. “Tell me, gentlemen... do you find these women attractive? Sexy?” Both men nodded, taking a long undisguised look at all three women, hunger evident in their gazes. “Good. It is time for another object lesson, and you two will assist me.”

Ken and Carlos stepped forward, having an idea what they were being called for. “Gentlemen, pick your partner. You are going to fuck Mrs. Rios and her lovely maid to your heart’s content. Ladies, you will allow them to do so without complaint or resistance—in fact, you will find yourself loving anything and everything they do to you, no matter how degrading. Every word, every touch, every interaction will increase your arousal. But,” Zeb added with a devious smirk, “you will not be able to cum, not without my permission. Kenneth and Carlos, however, have free reign to cum whenever they feel the need.” Zeb paused, remembering. “One last thing. You can fuck their mouths or their asses... but their pussies belong to me.”

“What?!?” Carmen shrieked as her two servants approached, savage glee evident on their faces. “No! You... you can’t let this happen!” she yelled. “When this is all over, my husband with have your heads!” she threatened.

The two men just laughed. “Sorry, Mrs. Rios,” Ken replied, moving in behind her, “but the Master is the one in charge here. And here and now, you’re the one that’s gonna be having my ‘head’,” he quipped, slapping her ass hard before slamming his cock deep inside her. The trophy wife screamed, shuddering a moment later as pain transformed into pleasure, the thick brutal cock inside her ass stretching and filling her sending spasms of unwanted pleasure coursing through her.

Carlos was having his own fun with the maid Tiffani. Having reversed her position, she was now kneeling before him, his cock working deep inside her mouth, despite her non-verbal protests. He simply laughed. “Ohhh man... that’s so nice,” he commented, patting her head lightly. “You know Tiff, I’ve always thought you were hot. All those times I tried to get with you, and you shot me down, calling me dirty, thinking I was so below you. Heh... not so much now, though, are you? Now you’re just a hot little cock sucking bitch!” The woman groaned, blushing deeply in embarrassment, and flushing in pleasure at the humiliation.

Zeb watched in satisfaction for a moment before turning to his own helpless victim. “Your turn,” he said simply, stepping forward, his erect cock dangling inches from Sasha’s face. “Listen closely, slave. You are going to give me the very best blowjob you are capable of. Just like the other girls, doing so with turn you on. Serving me, pleasing me, gives you pleasure. And that pleasure will continue to build and build until I allow you release.” Glaring daggers, Sasha helplessly obeyed, sliding forward to take her tormentor’s cock into her mouth. With every ounce of will and strength within her, she focused on one thought: BITE! BITE! Bite down on him! Bite his fucking cock off and watch the fucker bleed to death! Do it! Fuck! Bite him! BITE HIM!

Instead, her traitorous body obeyed its master’s instructions, working his cock deep inside its warm wet tunnel, bathing it lovingly with its tongue, her lips carefully pulled back to prevent her teeth from even coming into contact with his sensitive manhood. Her anger and fury continued to grow from her helplessness, unable to act to her nature, resigned merely to being a passenger in her own body. Fuck... I will not let you beat me! she vowed silently. You have me now. But you will slip up! You will let your guard down eventually, and when you do... I swear I will kill you with my own bare hands!

For a long moment, the only sounds within the room were that of the men sighing and moaning softly in pleasure. But soon enough, the women began voicing their own, Tiffani cracking first, moaning loudly, one hand reaching up to grab and squeeze one of her breasts, while the other slid down between her legs, finding and strumming her hard needy clit. Her moaning added a noticeable vibration to her blowjob, increasing Carlos’ pleasure. Which, in turn, increased her own.

“Ha! Yes! You liking this cock, Miss Carmen?” Kenneth taunted his slut, slamming his hips against hers as he fucked her, enjoying the way she groaned and thrust back against her, knowing that the haughty bitch was hating every minute of it, despite her body’s reactions. “Bet your husband doesn’t give it to you like this, huh?” He reared back, slapping her ass again, making her yelp loudly. “Answer me, bitch! I asked, does your husband fuck you like this?”

“N-no! No... he, he doesn’t” she gasped, eyes fluttering, hands clenched into tight fists to keep them away from her pussy. She did indeed hate what was happening... though, for the life of her, she couldn’t help but love the way the man’s cock was thrusting inside her. Truth be told, Anthony wasn’t a good lover, more bluster than actual substance. The big man was barely able to last more than five minutes before exploding, barely long enough for her to start getting interested. It was the main reason she had started inviting Tiffani into her bed, to give her the actual sexual pleasure she desired. She’d actually started to consider herself a lesbian, gaining infinitely more pleasure from her maid’s touch than any other man in her life... until now. Despite the fact that he was taking her against her will, Kenny was definitely starting to turn her back towards cock.

Zeb’s pleasure was more than evident, both in the constant steady smile on his face, and the hardness of his cock, as it pumped relentlessly inside his slave’s wet and hypnotically willing mouth. True to her word, she was resisting and fighting him with every fiber of her being, pushing against the ever-rising torrent of sexual pleasure assaulting her. Her bare thighs were running slick, all the way down to her ankles, and like Carmen, her hands were clenched tightly to resist the temptation to increase that pleasure. She continued to glare up at him, eyes locked with his, despite the inherent danger of staring into a hypnotists’ gaze. I won’t enjoy this, she told herself over and over. You can make me feel it all you want. but in the end, it is just you exerting your control! It won’t really be me! You will NOT break me!

“Still resisting me, hmm?” Zeb replied, amused as if he somehow knew exactly what she was thinking. “That’s fine for now. That fire is part of why I picked you. Why I want to take my time in taming you. If I just wanted to enslave you, I would have left you as just another hypnotized menial slave.” He sighed, shifting his hips, biting his lip. “But you... you are special. What I truly want is to break your will... but not your spirit. I want it tamed, harnessed into serving me.”

Never! Sasha thought fiercely, even as her eyelids began to flutter. Her stomach was beginning to quiver, the usual sign that she was about to climax. Her toes stretched then curled, her nose flaring as she felt herself rise to her peak—rise, and stay there, just at the edge. Aaahh! Fuck! I’m not... he was right! she realized dismally. I can’t cum... not until he allows it. Fuck! I won’t beg! I will never beg!

Zeb’s smile only widened, having been watching her closely all the while. He knew that she had reached her plateau. “Now that you have had your pleasure,” he said brusquely, grabbing her by her hair, pulling hard, “I think it is time that I had mine!” With that, he began truly fucking her mouth, thrusting deep and hard, taking all control away from her, his cock ramming at the entrance to her throat with each thrust. Sasha’s eyes widened in shock, helpless to do anything but hang on and try to enjoy the ride.

“Aaaahh! AAAAAHHH! YEEAAHH! FUCK YEEAAHH!” Carlos yelled as he let loose, cumming inside his slaveslut’s mouth, filling her to the brim. Tiffany groaned heavily, swallowing as much as she could manage, the rest spilling from her mouth and down her chin. All the while, her hand was busy between her thighs, a virtual blur of activity. Her head was back, and her body was trembling with barely suppressed need. A kinky girl, she’d played around with sexual denial a bit, knowing how intense a climax could be when prolonged... but they had been fucking for close to an hour now, and had never been this ready, this close, for this long without crossing the threshold! It was too much. Just too much. As Carlos pulled back, basking in the moment, she sat forward, turning to the man who controlled her fate.

“Ohhh gaaawwdd! Please! Please, Sir!” she called out. “I... I can’t take it any more! Please! I, I, I need to cum! Please! I’ll do anything!”

Zeb glanced at her, continuing to violently fuck Sasha’s face all the while. “Anything?” he mused aloud. “You do realize what you are asking, do you not? If I allow you to cum, you will submit to me completely. You’ll be surrendering your mind, and soul to me, as well as your body. You will be my complete and total slave.”

Tiffani nodded frantically. “YES! YES! PLEASE! Anything! I don’t care! I will submit to you! Please, Sir, I need to cum! OH GAAWD PLEASE!!”

“Then cum for me, Tiffani,” he commanded, turning back to his current fucktoy, “and know yourself mine from the very depths of your soul.”

Her response was instantaneous. The buxom blonde let out a scream, virtually collapsing onto the floor, her body thrashing and shaking as in the middle of a seizure. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, showing only the whites, as all the pent-up arousal and tension of the past hour exploded out of her in one giant climax. Carlos, wide-eyed, stood by watching in shock. “Dios Mio,” he murmured, crossing himself as he witnessed her trembling before she suddenly let out a loud sigh and went completely still.

Inside her mind, her Master’s programming was unspooling, all of the suggestions he’d given her earlier coming to bear. There was no resistance, however, her pliant mind now eagerly absorbing them, welcoming them, relishing the change. She now knew that she was Master Zeb’s slave, that he owned her completely, and as strange as it seemed, it also felt completely natural. A soft smile spread across her face as her eyes finally fluttered open, and she sat up again, panting softly, but feeling calm, sated, and serene.

“Tiffani,” Zeb prompted her, regaining her attention.

“Master Zeb?” she responded immediately, her focus entirely on him. “How may I serve you?”

“I’m becoming a bit thirsty,” he commented, “as likely are the others. Go to the kitchen and bring us some water. After that, you may retire back to your bedroom and go to sleep. You’re going to have a rather busy day tomorrow.”

Smiling, the maid bowed slightly, getting to her feet. “Of course, Master, I shall return shortly.”

At that moment, Kenneth reached his own peak. His vocal exclamations were overshadowed, however, by Carmen’s, as he released deep into her ass, filling it with his cream. The horny housewife shuddered, slumping down against the bed. Breaking down, her hands moved to her body, crushing and mauling her breasts while diddling her wet messy pussy. Kenneth chuckled, shaking his head in disgust. “And to think, I just to fantasize about fucking you,” he stated. “But in the end, for all your money and prestige, you’re just another uptight bitch...”

The last to cum, Zeb waited until the last second, prolonging his pleasure, before pulling out, then taking aim, releasing directly in Sasha’s face, painting her with his cum. The assassin let out a brief cry, shutting her eyes as her entire face was splattered. As embarrassing and degrading as it was, worse was the unmistakable surge in her arousal the act caused. Chuckling softly, Zeb turned to the others. “Well, that was nice for a first round. But I think Carmen is about ready to crack now. Kenneth, Carlos, you two keep Miss Sasha here occupied, while I tend to Mrs. Rios personally.”

The two men glance at one another. “Sorry, Master,” Carlos replied sheepishly, “but I don’t think I can manage. That last time took a lot out of me... I think we both need some time to recover...”

Zeb chuckled, walking over to them. “I think I can help with that,” he stated, placing a hand on both men’s shoulders. Focusing a pulse of energy through his hands, he simply nodded as both Kenneth and Carlos let out a brief shudder, both instantly erect again. “That should enable you to make sure she doesn’t get too bored,” he stated, moving over to the bed. Reaching out, he ran a hand lightly along the shuddering woman’s cheek. “And how are you doing so far, Carmen?”

“D-damn... you...” she managed, teeth gritted, trying desperately to force herself past the barrier he’d erected in her mind keeping her from cumming. “Why... are you doing this?” she asked pitifully.

“I think you KNOW why,” he replied coldly. “I gave you a choice in the very beginning—the easy way or the hard way. You chose the hard way.” He gripped her hair, twisting cruelly, causing her to gasp, then moan, eyes fluttering. “Either way, it ends with your complete and total cooperation.” Sliding deftly onto the bed, he grabbed the slim curvaceous brunette by the hips, pressing her down onto her back, and spreading her legs. Caressing her thigh lightly, an expression of pity crossed his face for a moment. “Ah, poor thing. Your husband had been neglecting you for a while, hasn’t he?”

That managed to cut through the mental fog. “H... how did you know?” she asked, surprised.

“I have some practice reading a person’s body by touch,” he stated, letting his hands caress and stroke her thighs gently. “That, and the fact that you were avidly enjoying the ministrations of dear Tiffani when I first entered,” he added, as his hands slid down, caressing and massaging Carmen’s bare feet. The older woman’s feet were very nice, well cared for, with slender shapely toes painted a brilliant scarlet to match her fingernails. She actually wore a single golden heart-shaped toe ring on the second toe of her right foot. Zeb very much approved, lifting the bare foot, kissing her toes gently one by one, before lowering them down to rest on his shoulders.

“Considering your husband’s lack of... aptitude,” he said smirking slightly, “you may find this to be rather intense, I shall try to hold back enough that you do not completely lose yourself,” he added as he lined her up, his cock moving to her entrance, “but I make no promises. I only hope that I don’t completely burn out your mind in the process.”

Any reply she might have given was swallowed up in the snakelike hiss Carmen emitted as the man entered her. And continued entering her, stretching her wider than she’d ever felt before. Not only was her tormentor blessed with length, but he also had the girth to go along with it. Her legs spread wider to accommodate, and she let out a shaky sigh as she felt him bottom out, hitting her cervix. She was just getting used to the sensation of being so full when he began to withdraw. A cry slipped past her lips, missing him already when suddenly that fullness surged back in an instant. Lightning struck her, every nerve and neuron lighting up like a Christmas tree, Her mouth opened, though her scream seemed to have gotten stuck inside her throat. All she could do was lie there, eyes wide, mouth open, gasping and wheezing as her owner drilled into her depths, fucking her towards insanity. And if there were not enough, the man’s hand were hardly idle, stroking and caressing her gently, teasing her diamond hard nipple, caressing her face, brushing her cheek, stroking her hips, even licking and nibbles the soft tender soles of her feet.

Zeb’s command was still in effect, firmly lodged into her pliant mind, such that every thrust, every stroke, sent her pleasure climbing up and up and up. Given that she’d been already at the cusp of orgasm, straddling the very edge before he’d even touched her, the poor woman was figuratively drowning in pleasure. His warning about hoping to not burn out her mind was suddenly a lot more serious, as she honestly felt as if she were starting to unravel, losing parts of herself in the onslaught, being slowly but surely ground down into nothingness.

This man... he was too strong, too powerful. He knew her body far more than she could ever hope to, playing it like a finely tuned instrument. She needed to give in, submit, surrender to him completely. Her mouth opened and closed again, wanting, needing to get the words out, but like before, she couldn’t make them come. It was as if all the breath in her body was stolen away, focused solely on the Herculean task of keeping her body going, keeping her organs and tissues intact through this gauntlet of sensation. Things such as talking or screaming had been classified as secondary and unnecessary, relegated to the background for consideration later. Carmen felt a giddy wave of laughter welling up within her, a steadily building hysteria. She felt as if she was going to die, literally die, from the pleasure. Her eyes began to roll up as her mind started to crack under the pressure...

“That’s enough,” Zeb’s voice spoke, cutting through the fog once more, the only solid thing in her world. And she clung to those words like a lifeline. “Cum for me, slave carmen,” he commanded, as she began to shudder. “Come for me... and know that you are mine!”

“YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” the words finally broke through as the dark-haired slave came, going completely rigid, every muscle in her body straining enough to lift her and Zeb physically off the bed, for several moments, before collapsing back down again. Carmen Rios gasped and wheezed, huffing and puffing like a bellows, her head lolling back and forth, before she finally still, passed out into unconsciousness.

Satisfied, sated, Zeb pulled free, taking a moment to look over his newest conquest. The girl was sleeping peacefully, though her rapid eye movements told that her mind was active, absorbing and processing the commands he had given her. Like Tiffani, she would awake as his new loyal and loving slave, obedient and eager to please. Ah yes, he thought to himself, taking the bottle of water from Tiffani, having returned to stand by the bed, waiting for orders. Two down, he thought, glancing over at Sasha, and one left to go.

The Russian assassin was in a bad way. Her nubile and sexy body was covered in sweat... and cum. Carlos and Kenneth had taken much enjoyment in fucking her, taking a page from their Master by pulling out at the last moment to cum all over the hapless girl, painting her pretty much from head to toe with their spend. Despite all the abuse, despite her desperate yearning, the raven-haired woman had spoken not a word, not a single plea. Nor had she given on to her body’s need to touch herself as the others had. For the entirety of her torment, she’d knelt there, her expression calm and composed, eyes staring coldly at Zeb, the source of all of her troubles.

Definitely a tough nut to crack, Zeb mused, walking over to her once more. And yet, it will make it all the sweeter when finally she does break. Sighing aloud, he gestured to the two men to back away. “Very good. I see you did indeed manage to keep her properly entertained. Carlos, Kenneth, you two are dismissed. Go get cleaned up and return to your rooms.” Nodding, both men departed as ordered, leaving them alone together. “And then there was one,” he said shaking his head at her. “Whatever am I going to do with you now, hmm?”

Licking her lips, she took a deep breath then raised her eyes to his once more. “Kill me.”

“Kill you?” he repeated, frowning.

“Yes. If you have half a brain in your head, you will kill me, here and now, while you can.” She shuddered slightly for a moment before reasserting control over herself. “I am ex-KGB. You see the scars on my back? I was trained by people who know what REAL torture is!” She shook her head. “I told you before. I will never submit to you! I would rather die than serve you... unlike the others. You can hypnotize me and turn me into your puppet... but deep down I will still be me. Still, be defying you. That will never change!” She let out a soft sigh. “I will resist you. No matter how long it takes, I will fight and fight and keep fighting until I am free of your control. And when I am... I will kill you. So if you are smart, you will kill me now. Otherwise, someday, when you least expect it, I will take your life.”

Zeb continued to peer into her eyes, saying nothing for a long moment, before nodding. “I believe you,” he said softly, his voice regretful. “You are a fighter. It is who you are. A part of your very nature. And while it is possible to completely change your personality with hypnosis, to alter you enough to make you loyal and living and obedient... it would take weeks, possibly months, of reinforcement to make it stick. Even then, there is always a chance that the real you could still emerge someday.” He shook his head. “You are right. As long as you are alive, there is a danger that you will one day break free to exact your revenge.” His eyes flashed, glowing with a soft amber light, lightening to a brilliant gold. “So it seems there is no choice in the matter. Sasha Milana Volkov will have to die.”

“Ooooohhhh... mmmmm... yess... that’s the spot.”

Carmen smiled, pressing her naked body lightly against her Master, working her hands with every bit of skill and expertise she could manage. She was no masseuse, but she had given her husband back rubs on occasion. This one, however, she actually enjoyed. “Oh, Master, that must be so painful,” she murmured, working her fingers gingerly along the bruised knotted section, carefully working the flesh smooth. She sighed, glancing over at the corner of the bedroom in disgust. “That evil little bitch! I can’t believe that she shot you!”

Zeb managed a weak laugh. “It came as something of a surprise to me as well.” He shook his head. “Never mind about Sasha for now,” he said, rolling over onto his back again. “Mmm... that feels much better thanks. I was actually a bit concerned I would have to deal with Anthony before I’d had a chance to recover a bit.”

Carmen scowled at the mention of her husband’s name. Since her awakening, her loyalties had completely flipped. “Oh, there is no chance of that, Master,” she said dismissively. “The big fat asshole is on another one of his ‘business trips’ to L.A. meeting with the Columbians, as well as visiting his ‘side piece’.” She huffed, still more than a bit angry. Zeb had mentioned to her the premise of his job had been to retrieve an expensive ruby necklace presumably for Carmen’s birthday—which had been four months earlier. As it turned out, it was a gift for his mistress. “After his business is done, he usually has a stopover in Las Vegas for a bit of gambling. He won’t be back in town again for at least a week.” Carmen blinked, considering. “Master? I just thought of something. Earlier, when you first hypnotized me... I was completely helpless. I would have obeyed any command, wouldn’t I?”

Zeb nodded, smirking. “Yes, very true. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just... you could have made me tell you where Anthony was and when he would be returning at any time,” she pointed out.

To which Zeb chuckled. “You figured it out! Excellent. Yes... I could have simply commanded you to tell me what I wanted to know. But, truthfully, that would have been too easy, and boring. And it would have denied me the chance to give you and the others that ‘object lesson’ I had planned.” Carmer shuddered slightly in memory, and not unpleasantly. “So... Seven days, hmm?” Zeb mused aloud. “Well, that certainly gives me plenty of time to decide on how to handle the situation. I’d originally planned on hypnotizing him and having him turn himself in to the police and confessing all his crimes... but now after all of this, I feel that would be getting off far too easy.”

Sighing softly, Carmen lay back against him, her long slender legs entwined with his, her bare foot softly caressing his calves. She sat silently for a moment, contemplating. “Master,” she said after a while, “if you really want him to suffer, then you need to strip away everything that he cares for, everything that he values. Humiliating him isn’t enough. I know Anthony... if you truly want to hurt him, then you need to show him that he is totally powerless against you.” She smirked, seeing his manhood begin to respond. “And I have a few ideas on how to do that.”

Zeb chuckled. “I bet you do,” he replied, sitting up. “As for what he values most... I already have you. His wife and all of his servants are mine.”

But Carmen shook her head. “It’s not the people that he values, Master. Me? Hah! I’m every bit the trophy wife he claims me to be. I’m just another status symbol, like his car or mansion...” Her eyes lit up. “But of course, I am yours now, Master... which means that everything I have is now yours as well!” She laughed at that. “It would take a few days, but I can make the arrangements and have everything transferred over to you!”

“Excellent,” Zeb said, smiling, pulling her in for a deep sensual kiss that left the enthralled brunette breathless. “That pleases me to no end! It helps me obtain several things I have been lacking AND deals quite a blow against Anthony at the same time.” He caressed her cheek lightly. “You have done well, my enslaved little trophy wife.”

Carmen blushed deeply, squirming in arousal from his praise. The part of her programming that kept her in line was linked intrinsically to her arousal, which was in turn linked to pleasing her Master. In effect, she was constantly reinforcing her own enslavement through her desire to serve and please him. “Master,” she said in a soft meek voice, biting her lip. “May I... please you more? I could... do that thing you like?” Zeb, eyebrow raised, nodded, sitting back against the bedpost, spreading his legs apart. Squealing in delight, Carmen moved into position, grabbing a small bottle of lotion from her dresser. Sighing softly, she poured a healthy amount of lotion into her hands... and spread it all against her bare soles, working it deep into her feet and toes. Then, carefully, she extended her legs, lining up her feet... and deftly enveloped her Master’s cock.

Zeb let out a sigh of satisfaction. Carmen’s pedicured peds were perfectly smooth and sensual, and felt wonderful against his manhood, gripping him with just the right amount of pressure. It was his ultimate indulgence, simply lying back and letting his slave do the work, using her beautiful perfect feet to give him pleasure. And indeed, Carmen’s delicate soles were exquisite, practically flawless... but they were not his favorite. In his mind, there was still one ideal pair of perfect immaculate feet that showed above all others, one that remained a fantasy of his ever since spotting them during the Spiral club’s inaugural tournament.

Not that there was ever a chance of Lady Casey deigning to pleasure him in such a way. He couldn’t imagine the infamous Tiny Tough conceding to be any man’s pleasure tool. Still, it was a fun fantasy to indulge in, to bring any such encounter to a spectacular end.

For her part, Carmen was in bliss. She was pleasing her Master, given the sounds he was uttering, and the feeling of his dick throbbing and twitching between her toes. Which in turn gave her great pleasure, her hands clenched into tight fists at her side to keep from working her contact starved pussy. The wonderful part was that Master hadn’t forbidden her from touching herself, had even encouraged it, as her pleasure helped maintain and enforce her mental programming. But no... this moment, this service, was all about Him. Her pleasure was secondary to His... and all of her focus was on Him, on that penultimate moment when her humble desperate ministrations pushed him over the edge—

“Uuuugghhnnnn! Uhhnnn!! Yeeeessssss!” Zeb cried out just then, jerking hard, his pleasure surging out in a spray along his slave girl’s bare feet. Panting heavily, he glanced over as Carmen, eyes closed, shuddering in pleasure as well, riding the cusp of cumming but not quite over the edge. He smiled at that; she had learned her lessons well. “Cum for me, slave,” he rasped, granting her her reward, basking in her unashamed howl of ecstasy as she obeyed, her climax nearly, ironically, anticlimactic compared to the simple joy of having served him. Chuckling, he handed her a towel, which she used to humbly clean herself and her Master before snuggling back up against him in bed. Sighing, she glanced over to the side again, frowning slightly.

“Forgive me for asking again, Master,” she said tentatively, “but... uh... is she... dead?” she asked, gesturing at Sasha. “She hasn’t moved at all since she kind of collapsed there in the corner.”

Zeb let out a soft sigh. “She’s not dead... at least not yet,” he said slowly. “Although I am honestly not sure whether or not she will survive intact.”

“What’s happening to her?”

“I am in the process of programming and conditioning her into becoming my slave. Unfortunately, I’m still a novice at creating permanent and lasting changes. My grandmother taught me the basics, but I haven’t exactly spent time practicing the art.” He frowned. “The easy method is to completely erase her mind, delete her personality and render her an empty slate, then implant whatever personality I wish to give her. Long and involved, and leaves her as a functional robot, but it’s safe and guaranteed. The other way is what I have done to you and the others... used complex layers upon layers of conditioning, with multiple reinforcements in place to make sure that you remain my slave. That’s less involved, and the subject retains their personality and abilities... but it is possible for them to break free, or have their programming removed.” He glanced back at Sasha. “I’ve opted to split the difference, somewhere between the two extremes, to crush her will yet leave her mind intact.”

Carmen nodded softly, watching as her Master left the bed, walking over to examine the comatose young woman, lifting her head up to place his hands gently against her temples. “I hope that you succeed, Master,” Carmen told him solemnly. “But if not, then I beg you, kill her.” Zeb glanced at her sharply. “I don’t understand the finer points of your world, your powers as a True Hypnotist. But I do know this. I am completely, totally, absolutely your slave. I worship you. I would do anything for you. But the woman I was before is still buried inside me. And if she were to ever be freed, she would happily slit your throat in your sleep.” Zeb went slightly pale. “And I am a simple homemaker. Whatever that girl would do if she managed to break free would be infinitely worse.” Nodding grimly, Zeb closed his eyes, and focused, as he began to whisper softly into the entranced girl’s ear.

WHAAAAPPP!

“Tell me!” the man barked sharply. “Give me the information!”

Pain wafted through Sasha, like an ocean wave, flitting in and out, almost like a pulse. After hours of scourging, she was mostly numbed to it. Hanging from her chains, she managed to lift her head enough to spit at the man, laughing weakly. “Pitiful. My grandmother hits harder.” The man held up a hand and snapped his fingers, and the soldier behind her lashed out with the whip again. The impact caused the naked woman to falter; had her wrists not been chained to the ceiling, she would have certainly fallen to the ground.

“I see the whip has not curbed that tongue of yours,” the man sneered. “If you will not use it to relay to me the information, perhaps I will have it cut from your mouth!”

Sasha said nothing, simply staring down at her feet. She had relived this nightmare many times since that day, enduring the torture with a stoic expression even as she felt herself withering away inside. Every time, she wondered if this time her rescuer would fail to come... if this time she would finally falter and give in. But every time it ended the same. Each time, just as she felt she could endure no longer, the base she was being held in exploded, the wall blown apart by an RPG from one of her squad.

And every time, she’d pushed away from her rescuers, freeing herself long enough to grab a knife from the soldier’s vest and use it to slit her torturer’s throat before allowing the medic to lead her away for treatment and care. In her mind, she counted down the seconds to the explosion, to the point where she regained control and took her fate back into her own hands.

Sorry, my dear, a familiar voice spoke from behind her, causing her to gasp in shock, that won’t be happening... not this time.

Glancing behind her, she started to find Zebediah Clark standing there behind her, the insurgents that had captured her, drawing back, dropping to their knees in supplication before him. He gestured, and her bonds vanished allowing her to slump weakly to the ground. “I have three questions for you,” he said simply, as the world around them faded away, leaving them standing alone in the middle of a grassy field. “Three simple questions. And you will answer them. Who are you?”

Sasha scowled. “My name is Sasha Volkov.”

Zeb sighed softly. “Second question. What are you?”

“I am a fighter, a soldier. A mercenary.”

“And last question. Who do you belong to?”

Sasha scowled, her temper snapping. “I belong to no one! I am a free woman. And I would rather die than become your slave!”

Zeb merely nodded, extending a hand before him. “We shall see if that holds true,” he stated ominously. With a gesture, Sasha found herself falling, sinking into a hole that formed underneath her. A scream issued forth as she plummeted, the ground, the sky, everything disappeared around her, leaving her falling into a deep dark abyss.

Falling. Descending. Plummeting.

All of it encompassed her existence as she continued to fall and fall and fall. Her panic soon gave way to a sense of wonder, as it felt almost as if she were floating instead, or even flying. In the pitch-black nothingness, time and space began to lose all meaning. She was no doubt still locked in a dream, some kind of hypnotic illusion caused by her tormentor to confuse her. Had she fallen into a true abyss she would have surely hit the bottom by now, yet she continued to fall, or float, or whatever motion she was taking. And the darkness itself was perfectly seamless, without even the slightest hint of discernable light anywhere. As if she were the only person, the only thing, in existence.

It was... as if she had truly fallen into an abyss. Into nothingness itself.

Darkness.

Loneliness. Isolation.

After a time it began to prey upon her, Sasha had always considered herself something of a loner, always alone even in a crowd, even among her closest comrades. But even then, having people around her, she now realized, had been a strange kind of comfort. Company, even unwanted company. meant that you weren’t alone. And loneliness could be a terrible thing. The most terrible thing. No person, no matter how stoic, or how antisocial, can survive without someone to interact with. Without stimulation, the mind finds ways to adapt, to provide what it longs for through any means necessary.

Alone in the abyss, for an unknowable amount of time, Sasha’s mind began to play tricks on her. She began to hear Zeb’s voice, the last voice she’d heard before sliding into darkness, echoing inside her mind, almost as if whispering in her ear. And, always, always, asking those three questions, again and again.

Who are you?

What are you?

And who do you belong to?

At first, she shut them out, ignoring the voices, turning her mind to other things, focusing on memories of her past, of her childhood, her training in the military, her various missions. Eventually, however, her mind grew bored, jaded, and fatigued. There was no stimulation in reliving memories it had already experienced, and with nothing to break up the monotony of her existence, she found her mind beginning to drift. And again, the voice and those questions would return to her, return to plague her, to question her, causing her in turn to question her very self.

Who are you?

“My name is Sasha, damn you!” she snarled aloud, yelling simply to hear a sound within the abyss, even if it was merely her own voice.

What are you?

“I’m a soldier... well, ex-soldier now. I’m a mercenary for hire.” Some sense of pride returned. “I am my own woman. I do what I want, go where I want, when I want!”

And who do you belong to?

“No one! No one owns me!” she yelled furiously.

And for a time, the voice would fade back into the background of her mind, and she would once again settle into an uncomfortable silence and monotony of her existence. Existence being the operative word. She soon realized during a moment of mental malaise, that she doing exactly that—existing, Not truly living. However long she had been falling—hours, days, possibly weeks, for all she knew—she had neither eaten nor drank anything. She’d had no desire or need to use the bathroom, either. Indeed, her body felt strangely numb, as caressing herself felt strange, disconnected, almost as if she were touching someone else’s flesh. A strange state of being... almost as if she were truly...

Truly...

No. No. It couldn’t... I’m not actually...

Dead? Zeb had threatened her with death after all, if she had refused to serve him. And she had threatened him to do just that. So... was this death? An endless existence of nothingness, floating in an eternal dark, with no one else? She was hardly religious, and with her background, with her many many sins, she’d always known she wasn’t heading up to heaven when her life ended. She’d expected something... hotter, smelling of fire and brimstone. Or... simple to end, to just disappear, and that would be it. No more her. No more anything.

But she hadn’t expected this. Anything but this! This endless... endless... nothing!

Time. Passed.

Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, Years, Decades, Centuries, Millennia, Epochs... time having no meaning whatsoever.

Sasha was... was...

Sasha... had begun to lose herself.

Drifting along aimlessly, unstimulated, her mind had grown dull, and foggy. Memories had faded, lost to obscurity. She could no longer remember her parents’ faces... or the sound of their voices. She remembered being a soldier... recalled fighting people, killing them... though she could no longer remember why. Was she a bad person? Obviously... if she had been brought to this place as a punishment. It seemed unfair, though... to suffer this way endlessly. A memory flittered through her mind, indistinct, but potent enough to stir her interest briefly. She remembered pain... a brutal long-lasting pain... she was...

Yes! She remembered. She was being whipped, soldiers had captured her, wanting her to talk, wanting her to answer their questions...

Who are you?

What are you?

Who do you belong to?

Sasha frowned slightly. It seemed... off... the questions they’d asked had been different. Yet those were what she clearly remembered the dark-skinned man asking her.. looking disappointed by her answers. But... something about them seemed... important... somehow...

Sometime later, she jerked back to consciousness. She’d drifted off again, a habit she’d been having a lot lately. Relatively speaking. Her mind was numb. Her body was numb. Everything was numb. She was stuck in a dark abyss of numbness, of nothingness.

Who are you?

She blinked, glancing around in surprise. A voice... was it real? Or remembered? Regardless it was something new, something besides the endless haze, and she latched onto it like a life preserver.

Who are you?

She frowned slightly. Who... was she? A simple enough question. She was... her name was... was...

Huh. Well, it wasn’t that shocking, really. After so much time alone with no one to talk to, no one to be with, it was no wonder she’d forgotten her name. When was the last time anyone has spoken it aloud? When was the last time anyone has spoken, period?

WHO ARE YOU?

The question seemed more intense, the voice more impatient. It demanded an answer... but she had none to offer.

“I... don’t know.”

Her own voice sounded weak and listless, the fire it had once held long since died out. That seemed... bad, yet she couldn’t muster up the strength to care.

What are you?

A different question. This one was easier... yet also harder. What was she? She was... well she was a woman, for one. She was definitely female. Beyond that, however... she wasn’t sure. Her memories were all scattered and blurry, fuzzy... half-remembered images of her with a gun—soldier? Her in small clothes, holding books—student? An image of her naked, kneeling on a carpeted floor—a.... sl... a slave?

Slave.

Something about that word seemed important as well. It felt wrong... scary... like something to be avoided. And yet... of all the images in her dim, barely functioning brain, the image of her kneeling submissively as a slave seemed the most recent and the most real.

What are you?

She licked her lips, unsure of how to answer. Was she a... slave? The answer seemed both right and wrong at the same time. But... she felt she needed to answer. Her mind was awake and aware for the first time in... a long time. If the voice retreated again, who knew when she would have the cognizance to respond back?

WHAT ARE YOU?

This time, the answer sprang forth. “A... slave,” she whispered softly, nodding a bit to herself. “I am... a slave.”

The girl gasped, averting her eyes in shock as a sudden piercing light nearly blinded her. Blinking, shaking her head in confusion, as her vision cleared, she saw that the endless darkness was now illuminated ever so slightly. The seamless black had been replaced with a starscape, tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness, allowing her to see, if very dimly, her own form. The words echoing in her head seemed to resonate with that light, as thoughts flowed into the empty recesses within her mind.

I am a slave, she acknowledged, the idea feeling more and more true by the second. But the other question... who am I? My name... I can’t remember it. I know I had a name... everyone has a name, right? So... why can’t I—

A slave has no name, no identity until given one by her Owner.

The girl blinked, eyes fluttering as the Truth branded itself upon her being. Of course! She was a slave. If she didn’t know her name, it was because her Owner hadn’t given her one yet! It made sense... and meshed with the other knowledge filling her input starved mind. Still... she wanted a name. She wanted to have an identity. She was a slave, she now knew her purpose, but she still felt incomplete...

Who do you belong to?

The Voice! The girl perked up again, the Voice seeming to come from within and without... from in front of her. Yes... the lights glowing softly before her, coalescing into a larger, soft twinkling fuzzy, and indistinct form. A vaguely human form.

Who do you belong to?

And... she could almost remember... that Voice. It was so familiar, she knew it from somewhere... asking her these questions. Questions she needed to answer.

Who do you belong to?

Important questions... about who she was, what she was, and why. Suddenly, it clicked in the girl’s mind! That was it, what she was missing! She was a slave. She knew that now. But she still felt incomplete. A slave was nothing without an Owner, a person to serve, to give her life meaning and purpose.

Who do you belong to?

The glowing figure had become more distinct now... clearing a person, one hand outstretched towards her. rather than be afraid, she reached forward towards Him, seeking Him, needing Him. Now she understood. Now, it all made sense.

Who do you belong to?

“To you!” she cried out, reaching out to Him as He drew her out of the darkness and back into the light. I belong to you... my Master!”

The girl gasped, sitting up. glancing around in confusion. Her body felt strange... heavy, and sluggish, like having been weightless for so long suddenly stepping back into gravity again. She was lying on a bed, in some strange unfamiliar room. Unfamiliar... yet familiar as well. Rather than be nervous or anxious, she welcomed her surroundings, virtually overjoyed at the sight of a floor, walls, and a ceiling. Indeed, having all these things, these items surrounding her, after an eternity surrounded by nothing, felt oddly satisfying.

“You’re back.”

The girl turned, eyes widening as she saw the man standing beside her bed, staring down at her. Tall, somewhat lanky, with black hair, a dark-skinned complexion, and brown eyes. He wore only a pair of loose black pants, his chest bare, revealing a small mass of mostly healed scars and welts. His face was calm and composed, showing an expression of concern as he stared at her. And the girl recognized him, recognized his voice... and wordlessly, slid from the bed, taking her rightful place at the man’s feet, kneeling before him. The man nodded.

“What are you?” he asked her.

“I am a slave,” she answered without hesitation.

“Who are you?” he then asked her.

“A slave has no name of her own,” she replied back. “Her identity is whatever her Master desires her to be.”

The man nodded, apparently satisfied. “One last question then. Who do you belong to?”

The girl opened her mouth to speak... only to pause, considering. Her time in the darkness was fresh in her mind, and she feared nothing in this world more than disappointing this man and being sent back into that endless abyss. She knew that correct answer to give... and yet, it seemed false as well. Closing her eyes, she merely spoke the answer from the depths of her being, praying that it was accepted.

“Master... this slave belongs to no one,” she said hesitantly. “Though she very much wishes to belong to you, she knows that she is unworthy of you. She... she needs to be owned, to serve, in order to give her life purpose. But it is the Master’s decision whether or not to accept her.” She raised her eyes upwards, swallowing at the impassive look on his face. “Master... this lowly slave... begs... that you accept her. Please allow her to serve you!”

Zeb held his stone-faced expression for half a second more.. before breaking out into a huge smile. “Indeed, slave. I accept you. From this moment on, you are mine.” The girl let out a soft moan and began kissing his feet in gratitude. Sighing softly, he knelt down and lifted her back up onto her feet again. “Your name is Sasha,” he told her, staring deep into her eyes. “Remember, now, and reclaim all that you have lost.”

The slave, now Sasha, gasped aloud, shuddering briefly in his arms as her life, her memories, everything lost to the darkness came flooding back to her. It was a definite shock, to say the least, the memories of the past several days returning again. She stared up at Zeb wide-eyed, remembering again how she had shot him, fought him, been defeated and enthralled by him.. then resisting, cursing him, being used and debased by him, only to defy him, demanding that he kill her.I would rather die than serve you, she remembered declaring with utter conviction. Standing there. facing him now, having faced ‘death’, she could only marvel at how much of a fool she had been.

Released from his arms, she dropped back to her knees again. “Master.” she said humbly, “forgive my stupidity... my arrogance. I did not understand...”

“Forget it, my Sasha,” Zeb replied wearily, dropping down to his knees at her level. “It’s fine. The Sasha that defied me is gone. She was erased. The person that you are now bears her name... has her memories and her talents and skills... but she is a completely new person. And that Sasha is my loyal and beloved slave.” He caressed her face. “Serve me with the same fire and determination and loyalty that you have always shown, and I shall have no reason to find fault in you.”

Sasha nodded, sniffling slightly, surprised to find tears leaking from her eyes. Tears? I’m... crying? I haven’t cried since I was six years old... since the day Father killed my dog, Misha, for angering him. Then she shook her head. No... that was the old Sasha. Those tears were of sadness. These tears are of joy. Of having found my true purpose.

Zeb yawned and stretched, shaking his head. “Come, Sasha,” he said wearily. “That took an extraordinarily long amount of time and effort. Three whole days! I am exhausted. Let us go to bed. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, and you are going to be a large part of it.”