The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cat’s Paw

mc, ff, bd, sf

Rose is willing to sacrifice everything in order to serve the cadre, including her closest friend.

* * *

The pulseblade throbbed hungrily as I drew it forth. Its surface slick with spent juices, I wrapped my fingers around the sculpted surface, letting the gecko coating cling to them. With a soft snap the outer shell parted and withdrew, folding back into itself and revealing the glowing stiletto within.

It pulsed with heatless light, strobing to the beat of my racing heart. Every flash a mute reminder of the tradition etched into the etheric runes decorating its shimmering edge. To draw the blade was a declaration of intent and it could not be resheathed until it had tasted flesh.

And, of course, if no victim could be found before the blade turned deepest scarlet, then it would happily take its wielder in their stead.

I smiled, turning to acknowledge my opponent, who was still in the process of drawing her own weapon. I had always known it would come to this. The fact had been drummed into us all since we started our training. Advancement was competitive, and those who failed became the property of the cadre, to be used as they saw fit.

Keris really was quite beautiful, her naked body toned and lithe. Naturally, that was something of which she was very much aware. I ignored the open invitation of her smile and focussed on the meditations that would keep my emotions in check.

Pairing off between students was actively encouraged by the cadre. They said it helped to build camaraderie, but like almost everything else they had told us since we got here, that was a lie.

My dearest friend gave me a stylish salute, brandishing her blade with more élan than I could ever hope to emulate. Of course, this wasn’t fencing and when it came to no-holds-barred dirty fighting there was nothing Keris could teach me.

I could feel the warm knot of excitement tangling in my belly. In comparison, guilt was such a tiny thing, a nagging doubt that gave me pause, but only for a moment. There was no sign of hesitation on Keris’ eager face, nor in the flush of arousal staining her throat.

We both knew that our only chance of passing this final exam was to fight as though we meant it. And that meant doing whatever it took to win. I returned Keris’ salute and settled into a relaxed fighting stance.

Pulseblade duelling was simple enough in principle. The psychoactive weapons accumulated energy from their wielders. One solid blow and the blade would discharge, rendering the target unconscious and opening their minds to whatever programming the cadre saw fit to inflict upon them.

Glancing strikes had a similar, though markedly less intense effect. Combat was therefore generally a short and brutal affair. That suited me just fine. I just wanted to get it over and done with. Turn my lover into a mindless, lust-driven drone, before she managed to do the same thing to me. Yeah, just another shitty day in paradise.

Sensei’s electronic tones announced the start of the bout, and I tried to convince myself that this was only an exercise. My grip shifted slightly, sweat already leaking around my fingers as I found the forward grip I wanted. My thumb floated over the blade’s spine and I reached for the rhythm.

We danced, flowing across the packed earth and slashing gleaming ribbons through the still air. Keris seemed to have handicapped herself, fighting with a reversed grip and trading all that finesse for a little more power. But I wasn’t going to get lured into over-analysis.

She should have known better and, knowing what I do now, it’s quite possible that she did. It might have been a knife fight, but that didn’t mean knives were the only weapons available to us. We’d been playing for a little under a minute when I clipped her. Pirouetting away I flicked a hurried side kick towards her face then snapped it into a vicious hook as she dodged aside.

Keris gave a startled cry as my heel connected. She scrambled away from my follow up strike, only retaining her pulseblade because the cilia kept it pinned to her hand. Even so, the stiletto missed its mark by bare millimetres and in my lover’s pained squeal of arousal I heard her realisation that I was playing to win.

“Rose!” She screamed. “What the fuck?”

For a heartbeat her blade seemed to fade into dull grey metal. She clutched at the thorn imbedded in her paralysed shoulder, a look of pained accusation etched into that beautiful face. It was all over, there was no way she would be able to switch the weapon to her good hand in time.

“Close your eyes,” I suggested. “It’ll all be over before you can say, ‘utterly subjugated slut-thrall’.”

She ignored the first rule of knife-fighting and let her attention waver. Instead of focussing on my weapon, Keris tried to argue with me. But we both knew how futile that effort would be. I loved her, but I wasn’t about to fall on my sword, not even for her.

“No!” She managed, “You can’t...”

The pulseblade struck the nape of Keris’ neck, and instantly flared into brilliance. A shimmering crimson aura sheathed her, ripples of erotic energy playing over ever inch of my lover’s exposed body. Her words dissolved into incoherent moans as chains of orgasmic delight melted Keris’ thoughts in one long, glorious mindfuck.

Collapsing forward, she dropped to her knees, bowing in unfeigned supplication. That arse, so beautifully exposed and vulnerable, was practically begging for the wet slap of my palm. Her legs draw up, those hot lips drooling at the knowledge of her absolute defeat. So exposed, so open, as I drew her swollen cuntlips apart and just breathed gently over the slick folds. Accelerating the process and reinforcing how totally dependant she was on others for her pleasure.

In an instant, the blade’s shell snapped shut, sealing away the suddenly still stiletto where it could only throb weakly against my hand. Keris’ own blade clattered to the floor, lifeless and unremarkable. I kicked the now featureless egg to one side, before sheathing my weapon.

Keris’ shuddering groans added their own liquid caress to my efforts. The shell slid effortlessly between my swollen lips, sinking into that wet heat and teasing me with its barely contained shivers. She was still cumming, spasmodic moans that seemed to coil themselves around the succulent pressure of my aching cunt.

I crouched beside my victim, steadying her body against mine. That left my former lover positioned perfectly and so meekly compliant as I whispered my honeyed words directly into her open and acceptant slutbrain. Gentle reminders dripped from my tongue and I made sure to punctuate each new truth with another series of increasingly intimate assaults.

Her body felt so exposed and powerless beneath my hands. Her mind so docile, her thought processes overloaded and coated with the drool of my horribly compulsive demands. The steady dribble of viciously controlling, viscous coercion, seeped over her mindclit in deeply heated streams and left her unable to do more than moan those increasingly desperate and incoherent entreaties.

Tantalising her with the lightest of touches, I just dragged the very tip of my swirling tongue down that perfect smouldering slit, letting the taste of her hit the back of my throat, while her muscles could only tense and shiver against the pleasure which held her all but immobile.

I took my time, smoothing her wetness into each taut buttock, relishing the feel of that smooth flesh beneath my hands, slapping softly but growing gradually more firm, until I was leaving pallid wheals that reddened after a moment into burning palmprints. My fingers slid inside, and allowed the sting to mellow into yet more soothing heat, while her clit simply melted beneath the onslaught and trickled so very helplessly, forming a spreading puddle of absolute and complete submission.

* * *

After the fight, they whisked me away. Almost as if they were suddenly embarrassed of me. But I wasn’t thinking. It was simply too easy to just accept.

I don’t even remember the journey. My mind was too lost in the inevitable adrenaline crash and, by the time I even thought about what I’d done, it was far too late for recriminations. On arrival, I found myself somewhere entirely unfamiliar. But the warm beat of my hidden blade gave me something tangible to hold onto. It took only a few seconds to familiarise myself with my new surroundings.

Then, I spent several long, drawn-out minutes letting the stinging stream of water wash away my cares and tensions, revelling in the decadence of a shower cubicle that could have comfortably fitted two. Of course, having consigned my only friend to a lifetime of helpless obedience, people weren’t exactly going to be queuing up to bunk up with me.

Exhaustion caught up with me even before I started towelling myself down. Fatigue toxins dragged my thoughts down in a stiff spiral cascade. The fight swirled through my thoughts, our dance replayed in eidetic detail. Karis so fast and agile, just as though we were sparring.

Sleep came quickly, blotting away those tainted memories and leaving nothing but calm in its wake.

Two enforcers showed up while I was making myself some breakfast. We’d been protected during our training, living in our ivory tower. The true face of our world never made it beyond those barriers. But the pair were spliced so heavily I wasn’t sure if either of them could be classed as human any more.

There was more than a hint of something arachnid about them both, but however unsettling I might find them, they weren’t here to do me harm. Enforcers didn’t announce themselves, not if they were here on business. No, they only knocked politely when they wanted to make a good impression. When they wanted to tell the new girl how things stood.

The cadre had deep pockets, as evidenced by my new apartment, which was nothing short of palatial. But despite their power, there were still some boundaries even they weren’t prepared to overstep. That was where I came in.

They needed someone ruthless enough to attempt the unthinkable and yet with enough skill to make it happen. Because sometimes, even the elite stepped out of line and, while the precepts might declare them untouchable, there were still crimes that could not be allowed to go unpunished.

I was so proud.

My blade thrummed its soothing chords, while I stood to attention and basked in the reflected glory. I was to be her right hand. A weapon, forged through years of training. Utterly deniable and so viciously efficient. But something more than that, I would be a message. A whisper proclaiming one terrible truth. Do not overstep your bounds, or you will fall.

* * *

Rather than start me off slowly, she dropped me in at the deep end. My first target was a council member and about as untouchable as they came. But Lady Phaedra was a traitor and one who threatened the integrity of the city itself. Unsanctioned mind control, illegal enslavement and ties to organised crime were only the tip of the iceberg.

They gave me everything they had on her, leaving me stunned at the depth of their surveillance.

Her photograph was striking. Even that grainy picture managed to capture the confident strength of her personality. Aloof and unobtainable, scorn practically dripped from Lady Phaedra’s sharp features. But it was the eyes that held me captivated. Beneath the thin veneer of contempt, her gaze had warmth, coloured with a lifetime of uncertainty.

I stared at the haughty princess, feeling some detached part of me beginning to melt. Ruthlessly I shunted that weakness aside, smothering the empathy beneath layers of aggression. In order to have any chance of fulfilling my duty, I couldn’t allow myself to think of her as anything except a target.

She’d have enough counter-conditioning in her head to make subjugation more than just a simple matter of hitting her with my pulseblade, but that wasn’t going to stop me. The bitch was going down and, when we sold her on the open market, it was going to send the necessary message, loud and clear.

* * *

Lady Phaedra had her own routine, something that she apparently viewed with a measure of pride. Of course, if she had thought it through, she might have realised being predictable wasn’t necessarily a good thing. But such thoughts seemed very far from her mind as she limbered up for her early-morning workout. And why not? She had immunity and no one would risk the council’s wrath.

The leotard was clingingly tight and, if she was being honest, the material was probably too thin. However, this early in the morning, she had the place to herself. Which was probably just as well. There was no way she would have dared to show herself in public, especially as she hadn’t bothered with underwear.

It’s hard to say whether she was just engrossed in her exercises, but she never heard me. In fact, she didn’t seem aware of my presence at all, even after I slid onto the mat behind her. The first inkling she had that she was no longer alone was when I took hold of her wrist and pulled it gentle back.

Perhaps her reactions were simply too sluggish, or maybe she just didn’t believe what was happening to her. Anyway, by the time she got over that initial shock I already had far too much leverage and then she compounded her error by thinking she could brazen her way out of this predicament.

“Hey!” she shouted indignantly, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing.”

Something soft and fur-lined wrapped around her wrist while she foolishly waited for me to speak. But her only answer was the soft but unmistakable click as the cuff locked closed. Only then, once it was far too late to matter, did she begin to struggle in earnest.

I had more of a fight when I tried to get hold of her other arm. But, as she struggled to break free, she realised that I had already chained us together. I was wearing a heavy leather belt, from which a number of d-rings dangled. It was to one of these attachments that I had cuffed her, and despite her best efforts it really didn’t take long at all for me to capture and restrain her free wrist.

“Let me go!” she demanded, squirming angrily and trying to ignore the insistent press of my body against hers. “I’ll scream!”

She felt me shift position, and heard the soft whisper of parting lycra. I moaned, my hot breath scalding the nape of her neck and then my legs were hooking around hers and pinning her hopelessly in place. With all her futile strength she pulled on the cuffs and then took a breath, preparing to keep her promise.

That’s when I thrust the damp and cloying cloth between her lips, muffling her gasp of surprise. The rich, unmistakable scent of arousal filled her senses and for a long moment she was too stunned to do anything. That was more than long enough for me to use what must have felt like an entire roll of vetwrap and seal the packing in place.

I squeezed, pulling her to me, while her arms flexed and trembled. My arms wrapped around her, mirroring her own helpless embrace and letting her feel the swell of my small breasts pressing into her spine. Tight nipples scored her skin; drawing fine goosebump trails wherever they scratched. She whined, and the first potent coils of toxic musk began to penetrate her brain.

“That’s better,” I sighed, letting the words lap at her thoughts. “Isn’t it, Pet?”

My body moulded to hers and, showing a deftness she could never have imagined, I began to explore. The lycra was just too sheer, too smooth to provide anything but the most illusory protection. My hands were rough, callused and coarse. They ground against her flesh as they rubbed lewdly across the material and she might just as well have been naked.

Except, there was something so controlling about my tender touch, which seemed to call out to a part of her long buried. Because it just wouldn’t have been as good and not nearly so intense if I had stripped her. This way I claimed her just as completely, while proving that, even clothed, she had no defence against the increasingly sluttish reactions I could inspire.

By the time I cupped my hands around her swollen breasts, the world must have become wonderfully blurred. She leaned back into my arms, clinging to me, while everything else threatened to spiral away. Her head lolled against me, and her nipples simply shrieked beneath my cruel attention. There was no possible way she could deny it, I was abusing her horribly and it was making her so very wet she just wanted to scream.

“So nice and docile,” I breathed, my tongue coiling around her ear. “Your body is my playground, your mind open and relaxed. So very receptive, aren’t you, Pet?”

She could barely whimper. The effort of stringing more than one thought together was just too much. I pinched her hot, tender flesh between thumb and forefinger. Each touch let my rough palms smooth the ripe, heavy flesh. My voice whispered into her mind, until she could no longer tell if I was reading her thoughts, or simply instructing her how to think.

“You can feel yourself melting,” I husked, “and with every slow, soft, shivering circle, it gets a little worse.”

Emphasising the point, my hands swirled deliciously, lifting her breasts and crushing them into her chest. Phantom fingers stroked delicately over the angle of her jaw, leaving hot prickles in their wake and she nearly came.

“That’s right,” I coaxed, hands still caressing. “Give yourself to the pleasure. Let me use your own succulent body against you.”

The same unseen fingers touched her neck and ran smoothly over her hot skin, sending those deliciously hot needles deep into her body. Muscles tensed under their attention then relaxed, leaving a soothing lassitude in its wake. I could feel her body clenching in anticipation, squirming in my lap as the touches reached the base of her spine.

“You are such a very good girl,” I laughed, pulling sharply on her engorged nipples and making her yelp into the gag. “Too helpless and lost to do anything but what I tell you.”

She moaned, nails digging into the matting as her muscles clenched even more tightly. I knew that by now the prickling heat would be even more intense, burning into her spine and dancing along every nerve. Fire licked over her tortured chest, stirring the sensitive flesh into tense peaks that continued to smoulder.

“Just an eager, needy, wanton slut,” I continued, squeezing that ripe flesh to punctuate every word. “Owned, controlled and utterly subjugated.”

The words ground away at her, while that rich scent filled her mind. It was my poisoned scent, the perfume of unbridled passion and horribly controlling lust. Her head would be spinning, but she could still feel everything. And even though she knew it would lead to her complete and abject surrender, it was impossible for her not to respond to my wonderfully dexterous fingers.

Cheeks burning with humiliation, she pressed herself into my hands, giving away the small fragments I had not already taken.

The shame lasted only an instant and then it was washed away in a tide of sensation. This time my fingers lingered, stirring and stimulating as they scratched. Hips bucking, she ground herself down into the mat, wanting so desperately to hold onto the wonderful heat.

“When you’re ready,” I told her, “you can cum. I’ll be right here, waiting to catch you.”

She tried. Honestly and truly she did. Fighting so hard not to give in. But whether she fought because she expected to win, or merely to make her inevitable fall all the more sweet, I cannot say. And, in the end, it made no difference.

My magical fingers probed expertly, kneading the muscles and lingering sweetly in the cleft between her buttocks. While, with equally skilled hands, I took her flesh and moulded it just as easily as I would later refashion her mind.

It was just too much, too sweet, too hot, too perfect. I took control of her body and then used it to break her. I whispered, insisting she came and, just like the good girl she had always been, she did exactly as she was told, knowing that I would be there to catch her.

* * *

That’s how they found her, long after the venom from my thorns had broken down. Lady Phaedra couldn’t bring herself to admit what had happened. But I knew that the memory of my assault would linger in her mind, reminding her of how weak and defeated she had become.

The cadre kept me hidden, while her minions swarmed impotently through the levels, showing none of their mistress’ restraint. My smugness must have been all but intolerable, but at least I wasn’t quite arrogant enough to dismiss my friends in high places.

I gave her six days, just long enough for her to start to recover and then I took her again.

* * *

By the time she had been properly prepared, my captive was the perfect picture of restrained surrender.

Long ago Lady Phaedra had reached the point where she stopped fighting against the bonds and now, she was using them only to enhance her pleasure. It was the point where my prisoner realised she simply couldn’t get free. That I was going to just keep using her, over and over, until she was nothing but my empty-minded slut ... and, once I had whispered a gentle word or two, in order to push her towards the correct understanding, that she might as well enjoy her journey to that inevitable submission.

With the cadre’s intelligence at my fingertips, it had been easy enough to find her again and, of course, once she was back in my clutches, I wasted no time in tighten my control still further. I loved seeing how weak my captive was, how futile and half-hearted her resistance. I loved the fact that all her struggles achieved was to reinforce how limited her capacity to deny me had become.

Recapturing her, despite the increased security, merely reinforced her understanding of just how easily I could make her mine. Likewise, there was a clear logic to my approach, bypassing her counter-conditioning and using her body to enslave her mind.

I started by forcing her to accept as I took ownership of her perfect breasts. My barbs had already sunk deep, numbing her will just enough to make her resistance falter.

At first she protested, but those complaints melted as I began to maul her wonderfully responsive body. My hands engulfed her breasts, using them, at first through the soft material of her blouse. Massaging and stroking, letting my thumbs work her thick nipples into beautifully tight points of delicious agony. I played them, like a virtuoso, letting her know that it was my desire that controlled her, and that she could only gaining such delight at my whim.

Then, once I sensed she really couldn’t take it any longer, once those heavy slavetits tensed and swelled with her growing arousal, only then did I finally ease them out from their constricting fabric prison. Feeling how tight and luscious they were, and showing her just how much I enjoyed seeing them… seeing her, displayed for my approval.

Next I took hold of her moaningly heated cunt, showing that it would be in such very good hands, while cruelly suggesting she tried not to think of how badly she longed to be gagged. We’d been down this road before, and it took only the softest nudge to fill her mind with the thought of packing her mouth. Stirring recollection of those cruelly muffling panties coated in my dripping juices. Reminding her just what it would feel like to fill her mouth with that rich scent, imagining as she did so that Mistresscunt was oozing darkly into her mind.

Taking hold of her, I forced her to spread her legs for me. Whispering obscenely into those captive ears, calling her my little pet, and reminding her just how open and helpless she had become. Leaving her stretched almost painfully, and feeling shockingly exposed and vulnerable.

Then I took my deft fingers and cupped her hands, asking softly that she showed me just how badly she wanted to give slavecunt to me, how much she need it to be controlled. We started softly, almost tenderly, simply rubbing the fabric, and feeling it grow increasingly moist. I told her to imagine, with each liquid stroke, just how good it was going to feel as that sweet sticky cum dribbled into her thoughts.

The two of us kneading and stroking, working the soaked material between her puffy cuntlips and letting her nails dig lightly against that tortured clit as we searched for the elusive rhythm. I told her to clench for me, asking her to get into practice, remembering where those sodden panties were going to be in just a few short minutes. And all the while I spoke of my need for her not to cum… explaining that if that happened we would only have to begin anew. And she really didn’t want to have to start over ... now did she?

I let her twinges build and then, as the tightness formed another tender knot at the very bottom of her spine, I slipped her out of those panties and very carefully helped her to pack them deep inside my throbbing pussy. We just sat there for a moment, thinking about what was going to happen next, her mind drifting as she wondered. Clenching and unclenching, while I continued to stroke very softly just to keep her sizzling.

My hands took hers again, drawing them back up to those beautifully ripe breasts. Sliding close, and letting my body rub lewdly against her spine. Cupping her curves, then lifting and grinding that heavy flesh between her hot, sticky fingers.

And, as she shuddered and moaned against me, I slipped that almost perfectly prepared gag out, while she fought so hard not to let herself go. Her whine spoke of nothing but slavish need, and the knowledge that she understood plucked at something dark and silken in my core. She whimpered, unable to form words, but still begging, (though for what I’m not sure either of us could have said).

My groan matched hers, and my body tensed in response as the slick, sodden panties slipped between my pouting cuntlips. She pressed back into me, while I hissed into her mind. My words reminded and reinforced just how inescapably I was coating her essence with my own. I could feel her shiver and clench as I threatened to coat every fibre of her being, locking her away under a glistening layer of my sweet control.

It was delicious, jerking the soaked material free in a series of shuddering gasps, and I could feel pet reacting to my small noises of arousal. It was hardly fair, with all those memories already buckled so tightly around her servile slutbrain. But I had no intention of letting her escape my clutches.

Her mouth was my next target and it took only the softest of coaxing to have her open wide. While she clung to her tormented breasts, I forced the cummy fabric behind her teeth. We both knew she was going to think of those panties, soaked in the delicious essence of Mistresscunt and just how closely their treatment would mirror her own fate.

By the time the packing was bound in place with silken cord, and I had made sure to tighten the knots until she felt absolutely helpless, she was all but lost. I knew that, by then, my control was filtering up into her mind, catching her in a fog of increasingly desperate need.

”This is your last chance to cum, little slut,” I breathed. “Because next I’m going to cruelly bind your wrists where they cannot touch your greasy cunt, or work your fingers into the depth of those needy, cummy, aching lips. Once you’re tied, once those bonds settle into place, you’ll have to wait until I am good and ready.

“But, part of you already knows how good that’s going to feel, doesn’t it my moaning fucktoy? It knows that I can lift you to the absolute pinnacle of pleasure, holding you there… trembling with lust… beyond the point you can possibly stand. And the release… oh my precious whoreslave… when you finally fall over that edge… it will utterly and horribly destroy you. So… last chance ... do you take your pleasure now ... or will you give that to me as well?”

She didn’t even think, simply tearing her hands from her throbbing slavetits and crossing them in delightful submission behind her back. She crushed her small hands between us, relishing the chance to let them flutter against my drooling cuntlips.

”Good girl,” I laughed, pressing into her touch, “You make me so very proud.”

Carefully, I bound her wrists, giving her just enough slack to wriggle excitedly. She squirmed, while I bade her get nice and settled. Here she was, bound and gagged, her beautiful tits swollen and pleading to be touched, slavecunt on display, glistening and dribbling.

I nibbled tenderly at the nape of her neck, pushing my pet to feel as cum soaked into her mind, glazing every thought and leaving her unable to focus on anything except the words I gave her.

She mewled as I told her just how owned she was right then, how controlled. Her succulent slavetits, pouting greasy slavecunt, luscious lips, her sultry voice, clever creative mind, those deft fingers and now even the thoughts, which crawled through the clinging, sticky fog that filled her brain.

Cruelly, I even suggested she could have it all back later and that all she would have to do… was ask. But right then, she was mine. My slut, my sensual slavewhore... quite breathless in her sweaty anticipation.

It delighted me when she jumped as I whispered into her ear. When my hot breath touched her throat, another soft caress, making her flinch. But it was a small thing, pitifully weak and hopeless. She really was too lost already, and it was only going to get worse. As my hands surrounded her pendulous breasts, engulfing that slaveflesh with my palms, she leaned back into me and sighed into her gag.

Smoothing my cum over those perfect orbs, smearing it into her skin and whispering to her, explaining how it was seeping through her pores, and only adding another layer of helpless control.

Then, picking up again where we had left off, handling her and helping her to focus on just how completely I was taking ownership of her. Pinching lightly, then crushing and teasing. Massaging my words into her docile and weakening mind, demanding no more than her absolute and unquestioning obedience.

By the time I moved onto slavecunt, she had no more words. Her tongue was as tied as her brain, leaving her able only to moan in heat. So ready, so eager, just so very needy. Her mind and body open and totally accessible to my every whim, her increasingly desperate and dripping snatch so empty and hollow, longing to be filled, ready for my words, words that could make her cum and force her deeper and deeper into abject servitude.

Finally letting herself go completely. My eager helpless slut. Working herself against her dishevelled clothes and against me. Practically glowing with the heat of her own arousal. Body so utterly bound, mind so securely restrained ... leashed to my controlling words and unable to feel anything but the delirium that came from having her will so completely subjugated to mine.

The blade throbbed in my hand, the sensation growing stronger as the shell melted away. Cruelly I slid its tip against the gaping entrance to her helpless cunt. In an instant her movements stilled, every fibre of her body quivered and we both held our breath.

I pushed and she came for me ... so hard and so very sweet ... crying softly into the gag as she thrashed and convulsed.

“Mistress!” The word was almost unrecognisable, but the belief behind it all too clear.

Humping herself against my hands. Squeezing my hot flesh between her tethered fingers.

“Slave!” She howled, voice raw.

I whispered my approval, letting her slow and giving time for her breathing to settle.

“Such a good girl for me,” I sighed, my own voice choked with pleasure. “My perfect slut.”

Very slowly, I twisted her around until we were facing each other. Then I bent to her and kissed her gag fiercely, letting my tongue probe into the damp material. Oh yes, the most glorious picture of restrained surrender… and, for the moment at least, she was all mine.

* * *

It was a real wrench when I had to deliver her over to the Enforcers. I knew they’d take good care of her, but it was impossible to break someone as thoroughly as I had Lady Phaedra and not form a bond. Of course, once she was handed over to the trainers, her amorphous mind would be refashioned into something entirely of their choosing. But, for the moment at least, she belonged to me.

I had always been fickle. And it was almost embarrassing how easy it was to distract me from those nascent feelings. In the end, all it took was the promise of a little glory. After all, I had completed my mission and, while I could never tell them what I had done, it still meant I was no longer a provisional member of the cadre. The thought of taking my place amidst my old classmates pushed aside my last thoughts of Phaedra, just as effectively as my pride had banished Keris.

My skinsuit was sheer and revealing enough to put Phaedra’s leotard to shame and I was more than happy to display myself. No one seemed to have any idea how to react to me, as I strode up the ancient stone steps. The college’s main hall was already full by the time I arrived, but then I had every intention of making an entrance. I didn’t recognise any of the gawking faces outside, although I did find their obvious shock quite delicious. But my classmates would be the guests of honour and I needed to join them inside the hall.

The whispers grew louder as I approached the doors, but I wasn’t listening. My skin bristled beneath the sheer material, as I thrilled to the energy of that moment. Then, I pushed hard against the heavy wood and stepped into the bustling hall. The silence was as deafening as it was abrupt. A ripple of astonishment passed over the assembled throng, each person stopping and turning to face the entrance.

I revelled in that attention, glorying in their stunned reaction. Only after several seconds had passed did I start to recognise the expressions of anger and hatred appearing within that seething swell of disquiet.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” hissed a familiar voice. “Coming back here, Briar Rose.”

Slowly the background murmur was becoming more noticeable. Words emerged from the morass, seemingly at random. But everything was tainted with revulsion. I swallowed hard, feeling the thorns start to tear at my suit. Keris’ name echoed in the distance, accusation staining that single word.

“Why did you do it?” Someone else demanded, the threat in their tone all too apparent.

Fear prickled over my skin and suddenly they were coming for me. Muscles tensed, sending a hail of thorns into their midst and then I was twisting away. Instinct took over, forcing me to ignore the startled cries. A face loomed at me from the right, but I batted her away with the back of my hand, shedding more thorns as she spun away from me.

Dropping to one knee, I took a deep breath. The crowd surged forward, while I curled my arms over my head in an attempt to protect myself. Their screams buffeted me, and the angry fragments made no sense, despite their obvious conviction.

“She was your friend!”

But of course I knew that and so did she. In the end it had been Keris or me… I made the right choice.

“Traitor!”

No! Never!

“…only sparring…”

She might not have taken it seriously, but we both knew what we were getting.

“You took her mind.”

And she would have done exactly the same, given half the chance…

“… you deserve no less.”

I could sense the blades unsheathing all around me and my own trembled in anticipation. Flesh shuddered, as my body took over and my mind floundered.

Straining, I forced my body into tonic spasm. The muscles trembled for a moment and then, with a shrill ripping sound, I filled the air with glistening barbs.

My skinsuit hung in tatters, but I was still in far better shape than my attackers. The venom worked quickly and even a scratch was enough to take the fight out of them. I pushed every other thought from my mind, stepping over bodies now riddled with slender needles and trying not to think about their soft urgent noises.

Thorns decorated the doors, but I ignored them. A few errant needles sunk into my hand as I pushed and the pallid flesh swallowed them whole. Then I was back in the open and running. Always staying one step ahead of the hue and cry, I faded back into the city, my mind awhirl.

* * *

I was expecting to find the Enforcers waiting for me. What I wasn’t prepared for, was to find her. I recognised her immediately, the familiarity unmistakable, despite my certainty that we had never met before. Lady Rhian ran the council. Although officially the true power lay elsewhere, that much at least was common knowledge. What few knew, even less acknowledged, was that she also owned the cadre.

Finding her there in my apartment stopped me in my tracks. In reality I only froze for an instant, but that was more than long enough.

“Hello again, Rose,” the Lady smiled, making my heart flutter.

Once again my body tensed, even though the very thought of using my thorns was anathema. But the sense of danger was unmistakable.

“Milady,” I acknowledged carefully.

“Hush now,” she insisted, her voice almost inaudible. “And just listen.”

Time seemed to slow, warm treacle oozing through my thoughts. I recognised the touch of power and there seemed nothing I could do to resist it. Everything was growing clouded and Rhian seemed suddenly to have become the only fixed point in an increasingly chaotic world.

“You’ve done well,” she breathed and the soft whisper hummed through the fog. “I really am so very proud.”

Rooted to the spot, I could do nothing to stop the delight from slithering over my hot skin, scribing delirious shivers and forcing me to clench in expectation. Her pride took hold of my emotions and, like a good beholden bitch, I let them guide me ever downward.

“Phaedra has been, if you’ll forgive the expression, a thorn in my side for far too long,” she explained. “But thanks to your actions, she has found a far more appropriate station to occupy. Who’d have thought she would make such a fetching cumslut?”

The taste of betrayal was almost overwhelming, tainting my victory and leaving nothing but hollow misery. Doubt wrapped me in its slippery tendrils. I wanted to ask if Phaedra’s crimes were real, to know if I had condemned an innocent, but the compulsion to remain silent was just too strong.

“But now it’s time to end this,” Rhian smiled and there was just a hint of regret in her tone.

I tried to speak, fighting against the chains of malignant conditioning in a desperate attempt to make myself heard. All I managed was an indignant whine, but I still saw her eyes narrow, as if even that was more than she had expected. I’d surprised her, and I sensed the Lady had no love of surprises.

“Sleep,” she commanded and there was nothing I could do but obey.

* * *

I woke to an almost unbearable tangle of pain and pleasure. My body beaded with sweat, hair matted and already so horribly lost. I strained against the wonderfully uncomfortable bondage, shocked by the warm surge of arousal my movements created. Squirming in place, my absolute helplessness became all too clear. While I slept, she had rolled me up into a tightly secured ball of blissful powerlessness and abject sensual arousal.

That left me as nothing but a tidy bundle of cruelly pinioned and tormented need, roped so well and so very stringently that even the slightest movement forced more deliciously evil friction over my exposed nakedness. She had locked into a dizzying loop of feedback from which I feared I would never escape. Stimulus lead to response and then back again, over and over, until my world consisted of nothing but that constant and utterly remorseless pressure.

And, somewhere deep inside, I could feel the unmistakable throb of my pulseblade.

Flinching away, I found myself lost in another delightfully painful spiral. By the time those aftershocks finally settled I was lying on my side and feeling somehow even more helpless and vulnerable. The blade continued to pulse and, through the fog of my almost irresistible lusts, I felt a thrill of fear as the implications of that sensation filtered into my consciousness.

The stiletto was unsheathed and that meant my life as a free woman could be measured, at most, in minutes. I groaned, trying to ignore the harsh abrasion as the rope ground against my swollen seam. Brilliant flashes illuminated my mind, letting artificial lightning lick over the surface of my brain.

Dancing again, I was back on the practice mat. Images blinked, snapshot fragments of a broken timeline. Keris’ startled expression as the barbs bit into her flesh. The bland dullness of her training baton. I winced at the memories, suddenly recognising how badly I had been fucked over. The students were right. I deserved no less than I had given her.

Anger emerged from the cloud of despair, adding its dark heat to my misery. My pride shrieked a venomous denial. I would not go quietly.

Thorns ripped through my flesh as I stretched and moaned. The ropes hissed angrily, parting under the touch of those razor-sharp barbs. Arching back, I felt the remaining bonds snap and, just like that, I was loose.

My celebration lasted just long enough for my hands to reach for the captive blade. Something clinging and sticky had been smeared over my crotch. My fingers slid over the smooth slickness, finding no purchase. Then, I was clawing at my cuntlips, trying to rip through the stiff transparent membrane.

The bitch had been toying with me. Giving me the ropes to play with, knowing that my splice would be more than enough to let me break free. And all the while, she’d mired the blade frustratingly out of reach. Heat swelled inside my tightly packed cunt, sending snakes of fire cavorting over my spine. It was so fucking close now that it was hard to think of anything else.

Barbs sprouted like talons, struggling to pierce the slippery barrier.

“Keris,” I gasped, feeling the fire begin to blossom deep within. “I’m coming.”