The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chess

Jessica stood over her trash can, still with her coat on and her keys in one hand, flipping the day’s mail into the trash, one collection notice after another. If she didn’t find work, and soon, she’d lose everything. Ironic, really. She’d been on her way to the top. Second financial officer for a multi-national corporation with a huge house, a brand-new BMW, clothes from the best shops, a maid... and then the recession had hit and the company had restructured, tossing her out on her ass.

She needed a long, hot bath. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom, letting the coat fall off onto the floor. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of her slacks. As she kicked them away, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and looked at herself guiltily. Thirty-eight years old, and she didn’t look a day over twenty-five, if that. If she hadn’t blown all her savings on the nans keeping her young and beautiful, she wouldn’t be in this mess, but she just couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She slipped off her blouse and her bra, looking herself over with a smile. Her body was lithe, hairless and tightly toned, her tan perfect. Her legs were long and shapely, and her hips wonderfully curved. Her blond hair fell in beautiful curls just past her perfect shoulders. Her breasts were high, round and firm, and large enough to satisfy any ignorant man’s eyes. Her own eyes were shining green, and her lips were full and soft.

She smiled at her reflection and thought with a laugh that she could still get into porn. It was a nice idea, but she couldn’t stand the thought of guys jerking off watching her fuck and saying stupid lines.

She had her thumbs in the waistband of her panties when there was a knock on her door. Curious, she walked over to the window and slowly parted the curtains by a hair to look out. A rather plain silver SUV was parked in her driveway, and there was a woman in a business suit and a clipboard standing in front of her door. A collections agent, Jessica realized, and decided to ignore her. As Jessica watched, the woman glanced down at a Palm computer, reading it intently, and then banged on the door more insistently.

Jessica turned from the window carefully and went back to getting ready for her bath. The woman would leave soon enough. She pulled down her panties, sliding her fingers over the glass-smooth skin of her sex to relieve the slight tickle of the silk, and then slid off her stockings and garter belt. She heard the door getting banged almost off its hinges and ignored it.

But then she felt a jolt go through her and her body straightened of its own accord and started walking downstairs to the front door! She tried to stop, but her body wouldn’t obey her! She watched herself walk right up to the door with the woman visible on the other side, and open it.

“Jessica Richards?” the woman asked with an angry tone.

She tried to fight, to say no, to walk away, but she felt a terrible compulsion to tell the woman the truth. “Yes?”

“My name is Ariana Jones, and I’m a collections agent for NanLife.”

“NanLife?”

“The makers of the nanorobotics now inhabiting your body, ma’am. As of today, ma’am, you are six months behind on your payments for said nanorobotics, and you have made no attempts to contact our accounting offices to make alternate payment arrangements.”

“I... lost my... job...” Jessica struggled to take control of her body, to stop talking to this woman, but she couldn’t move a muscle.

“A quick glance over the credit agreement that you signed would have shown you numerous solutions to such a problem, Miss Richards. Your failure to contact us is not our doing. I’m here to affect repossession of your nans.”

“But... I thought they were permanent?” She was getting very worried at her inability to tell this little bitch to shove off or even just slam the door in her face.

“They are. Another quick glance at your credit agreement would have clearly shown that if we need to repossess your nans, you come with them.”

“What?” Jessica watched, unbelieving, as the woman tapped a few keys on her palm device. Another, more powerful surge went through her whole being.

“Jessica Richards, you are now the property of NanLife. You will sign here to acknowledge the transfer of ownership and your complete submission to the control of NanLife and its authorized representative, that being me.”

The woman held out the device and a stylus, and Jessica was terrified to discover that she couldn’t even think of resisting. She watched herself sign the screen and hand back the device and then just wait to be told what to do next.

The petite brunette in front of her ignored her as she checked over a few papers on her clipboard and tapped a few keys on her Palm.

“I’m... naked...” Saying it was an intense struggle. She seemed to want to do nothing more than stand there and wait, and only her shame permitted her to speak out.

“I gave you ample opportunity to answer the door on your own, Miss Richards.” Jessica blushed all over as the woman tapped at her Palm and looked into her eyes. “From this point forward, you will only address me as Mistress, and you will only answer to the name Cutie-Cunt.”

“Yes, Mistress.” A tear rolled down her cheek. This couldn’t be happening!

“Close the door and follow me.” With that, Cutie-Cunt’s Mistress turned and walked to her SUV. Cutie-Cunt pulled the door shut behind her and walked after her, well aware of the entire neighborhood watching her curiously.

“Everybody’s watching me... my friends...”

Mistress stopped at the SUV and told her, “Wave good-bye, then.” Suddenly, Cutie-Cunt smiled, looking around at all her neighbors and waving.

“Good-bye, everybody! I’m off to a new life of sex and servitude!” Oh, gods, did she just say that? She was keenly aware of all the disapproving stares and was thankful that it was a school day and no children could see her.

“Now I want you to stand right there and play with yourself until I get your seat ready.”

NO! her mind screamed as her hands reached down to her sex and she started to finger herself. She could feel all her former friends watching in horrific fascination as she rubbed her clit with the fingers of one hand and slid the fingers of the other into her... strangely moistening passage. Her Mistress ignored her completely, opening the door of the SUV and attaching a series of straps to the seat. “Why... why am I... wet... M-M-Mistress?”

Mistress didn’t even look at her as she spoke. “Because I’ve given you a mind-control fetish to aid with your compliance. You get off on doing whatever I tell you.”

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “But why... do this... to me?”

Her Mistress turned suddenly, getting right up in her face, furious, and whispered, “Let me make something abundantly clear to you, you fucking tool. I hate my fucking job, and I hate stupid cunts like you that make my job necessary. All you have to do is call the toll-free number and tell us you’re having a problem and it can all be worked out, easy as sin. But no. You have to play the dead-beat. So now, I have to work overtime for the next week training you and selling your ass off. If I can find some way to make this time of transition just a little more hellish for you, then by the gods, I’m going to do it!”

With that, Mistress pulled up her skirt, showing her black lace panties underneath. “Case in point. Kiss.” Cutie-Cunt fell to her knees and kissed her Mistress’s sex through her panties, still rubbing herself, tears still rolling helplessly down her face. She watched as her Mistress smiled down at her and said, “Come.”

Orgasm slammed into her and she moaned with the brunt force of it, her voice loud and animalistic. As she grunted out the last of her lust, her Mistress circled around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Get in,” she told Cutie-Cunt, and with a sense of morbid resignation, Cutie-Cunt stood, licking her fingers clean, and climbed into the passenger’s seat, closing the door.

“Strap yourself in,” Mistress ordered, and she found she knew how. It was a lot like the strap-sets she saw in NASCAR. The buckle had four connections. She buckled the waist-straps first, then latched the crotch-strap, pulling it as tight to her cunt as she could. Reaching over and back behind her head, she pulled the Y-strap down between her tits and latched it in, and then she pulled the chest strap around and under her tits, latching it on the other side of the seat and lifting her tits up for display. Then she sat passively in her seat and waited as her Mistress smiled. “Comfy?”

“No.”

“Good.” Mistress started the engine and pulled away from the curb, driving slowly down the road as everyone watched her. Two doors down, Marietta Hensford, the Neighborhood Values Committee chairperson was watching with her garden shears in one hand and her mouth hanging open. Mistress pulled to a stop in front of her, chuckling as she handed Cutie-Cunt a business card. “Give her this.”

The last of her dignity gone, Cutie-Cunt watched as she smiled, rolling down her window, and handed Marietta the card, saying, “Hey! If you ever want to become a slutty whore like me, then call this number, and all your wettest dreams will come true! Bye!” With that, she rolled up the window, smiling like an idiot while Marietta stared at the card like it was poisonous and made a disgusted face. Cutie-Cunt just waved and smiled as the SUV pulled away, finally speeding up to leave the neighborhood behind.

They drove on in silence for some minutes before Mistress pulled onto the Interstate, aiming for the far end of the city. Momentarily resigned to her fate, Cutie-Cunt sat in silence, watching passively as people in other cars gawked at her naked chest bouncing along in the straps.

Curiosity finally got the better of her and she asked, “Where are we going, Mistress?”

Mistress seemed to consider her answer for a moment and then said, “To a sort of ‘pet shop’ where you’ll be trained, sold, and then fully programmed for your new life. Most toys are there for a couple of weeks, but I doubt you’ll take that long to sell.”

“Am I going to be a whore?”

“I certainly hope so. I’d hate to see you get some cushy life as a maid or some such.”

Dejected, Cutie-Cunt stopped trying to ask questions. It took too much effort to work up the initiative and besides, all she was getting was more evidence of Mistress’s absolute hatred of her. She simply sat and waited as Mistress drove them across town, slowing on occasion to let this or that man get a longer look at the slave’s nakedness while grinning. Finally, they pulled off an exit in an industrial part of town, turned a few corners, and wound up in front of what looked for all the world like a run-down warehouse with a fence around it. A pair of guards opened the gate for them and Mistress drove the SUV to a parking lot to one side and ordered her to get out.

“Heel,” Mistress commanded and she started to follow obediently, but after a moment Mistress stopped, grinning and turned to add, “skip.”

Cutie-Cunt found herself skipping merrily behind her Mistress, smiling and even singing happily, “La-dee-dee, Dee-dum Doo-da!” She gave the perfect little picture of someone dancing happily into sexual slavery, not a care in the world – rather than the absolute terrified that she really was.

They got to a side door into the warehouse, and a guard checked Mistress’s I.D. and the papers for Cutie-Cunt. As the guard opened the door for Mistress, she turned and commanded over her shoulder, “Thank the nice man.”

Cutie-Cunt walked up to the guard and slid her hand along the stiffened shaft bulging in his pants. In her best sultry voice, she said, “Thank you, Mister Man.” The guard nodded a smile and she turned to follow her Mistress down the hall. “How does that work?” she asked her.

“How does what work?” Mistress asked without looking back.

“You give me a simple command, but I do extra stuff without knowing how I know to do it.”

“Oh, that. The nans in your head are radio-linked to the ones in mine. The verbal commands are necessary for control, but the mental link fills in little details.”

“Huh?”

Mistress groaned and turned on her, obviously running lower and lower on patience. “I control you with my mind. Dance!”

Cutie-Cunt’s body straightened and she smiled, happily singing and pantomiming:

I’m a little fuck-toy,

Hot and wet!

Here are my boobies,

Here is my ass!

When you get all horny

And you’re hard,

Just bend me over and

Fuck. Me. Hard!

Her performance apparently finished, she straightened up again and blushed fiercely at Mistress’s grin. “Oh.” was all she could think to say, and renewed her mental vow to keep her big mouth shut from then on.

Mistress continued down the hall, and she followed obediently. They took half a dozen turns and went down one flight of stairs, but finally stopped inside a room that looked like a kennel, more than anything else. The walls were lined with pens like tall cubicles but with plexi-glass walls and locked doors. Inside each, the floors were covered with a cushioned mat and there were racks for dildos and whips and restraints, each apparently filled with whatever was needed for the particular slave inside.

Mistress stepped up to one of the empty pens and opened it by sliding a keycard through a reader, telling her to get in. She obeyed, and Mistress closed and locked the door. In the pen next to hers, she beheld the strangest sight she’d seen in her life.

It was a young asian girl – or started out as one. Her hands were strapped together behind her back and she was squirming her thighs together, but it was her chest that really got her attention. She had six small breasts, lined up in three pair from her collarbones to the bottom of her ribs. A moment’s more staring and she realized that the young woman had a very thin coat of soft downy fur growing all over her body. The girl let out what could only be described as a pitiful feline moan, and Cutie-Cunt looked up into the girl’s pleading eyes, and saw that they were golden and had vertical slits!

Mistress saw her staring and laughed. “Like her? She’s one of my special favorites.” With that, Mistress opened the feline’s cage and stepped in, the girl backing away nervously. Mistress grabbed hold of the girl’s arm, though, and pulled her close and the girl stopped resisting, her eyes cast to the ground. “Are you in heat, yet, Pussy?”

The girl nodded, pressing her thighs tightly together. Mistress jammed her fingers rudely into the girl’s wet crotch and the girl let out a high-pitched whine but let Mistress play with her, nonetheless. Mistress smiled over at Cutie-Cunt and told her, “This one tried to pull the classic scam, talking a rich sucker into paying for the nans she’d always wanted and then breaking up with him as soon as they were payed for. She didn’t count on the court ruling that the nans belonged to him, though, so now so does she. Ain’t that right, Pussy?”

The feline nodded, not making eye contact with either of them, and rocked her hips against Mistress’s fingers. Looking back at Cutie-Cunt, Mistress continued, “Tomorrow, she gets a set of feline ears and a tail, and even whiskers. In just under a week, she’ll be ready to lap up Master’s cream.” The feline was crying silently, just as Cutie-Cunt had done, but was still on the edge of orgasming on Mistress’s fingers.

Cruelly, Mistress pulled her hand away, and shoved the girl aside, stepping out of the cage and locking it again. The cat-girl moaned pitiably, but Mistress ignored her, turning her attention to the palm device she’d pulled from her pocket. She scanned the bar code on Cutie-Cunt’s cage, and from a nearby shelf she produced a small placard that said ‘In Training,’ which she fit into a slot on the door. A quick glance at the front of Pussy’s cage showed her a placard that said ‘Sold.’

Just as Mistress was finishing this task, two more women in business suits walked into the kennel. One was older-looking, even with the obvious help of nans, and carried a certain air of authority. The other was apparently the same age as Mistress, but had more a sense of confident ease about her.

“Ariana,” the older woman called. Mistress stopped what she was doing and waited for the others to come near.

“Miss Ward,” Mistress acknowledged, handing the other her Palm. “Miss Richards has been acquired successfully and I’ve assigned her to pen number 26. I haven’t had time for anything further, as of yet.”

“Cutie-Cunt?” the other asked, a look of distaste on her face.

Mistress shrugged and said, “Thought of it on the spur of the moment. I can change it later, of course, if her new owner has other plans or ideas for her.”

Miss Ward examined the palm device and tapped the screen a few times, finally saying, “Well, that’s part of why I’m here. There’s good news. You’re being promoted. You won’t have to worry about that sort of thing any more. Kaitlin here will be taking over as trainer.”

Mistress seemed taken aback. “Really?”

Miss Ward never looked up from the palm, just tapped keys and talked. “Yes, well, it has not gone unnoticed that you’re very good at your job but that you don’t seem to like it very much.”

“Well, I...” Mistress stammered a bit, apparently uncertain of what to say.

“As coincidence would have it, a position has opened up that better suits your temperament. You’ll be working with Mr. Marks, himself. He specifically requested you.”

Mistress eyes widened in surprise. “Wow! I... I’m honored. When do I start?”

Miss Ward tapped one final key on the palm and a sudden jolt whipped through a surprised Mistress’s body, making her stand up straight and gasp in shock. “Right now,” Miss Ward told her. “Ariana Jones, you are now the property of NanLife. You will sign here acknowledging transfer of ownership and your submission to the control of NanLife and its designated representative, namely Kaitlin, here.” With that, she passed the palm to Mistress who signed it numbly and handed it back.

“Why?” Mistress asked.

“Mr. Marks has grown a bit bored with his current retinue of toys,” Miss Ward told her, “so he’s selling a few off and training a few new ones. He specifically asked for you.”

“But,” she stammered, “You can’t...”

“A simple perusal of your employment contract, Miss Jones, would have shown you that use of the nans implanted in your system is granted solely on the condition of you following certain simple rules. Abuse of company property, for example, is strictly prohibited! You kick the toys around, you become one. It’s that simple.”

With that, Miss Ward turned to Kaitlin, handing her the palm device. “Sign there, and you’re officially the new trainer.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl said, signing the palm and handing it back.

As Miss Ward took it back, she tapped a key and a jolt ran through Cutie-Cunt and all the slaves she could see. She looked at the younger girl and realized she was Mistress, now. Looking back at her former Mistress, only the name Ariana Jones came to her.

Miss Ward handed the palm back to Mistress and told her, “Get these two started on their training and catch up on all the others.” Mistress nodded and Miss Ward started to walk out of the room. Five paces on, though, she turned to point at Cutie-Cunt. “And find a better name for that one.”

As soon as Miss Ward was out of the room, Mistress looked up from her palm, smiling at Ariana who stood in place, looking forward, giving the impression of someone trying hard to maintain a stony visage. “Strip, please.”

Without a word, Ariana began to slowly take off her clothes, neatly folding each article as she removed it and handing it to Mistress who stacked everything neatly on a nearby shelf. Once she was naked, she simply stood waiting. Mistress opened a drawer and removed a large triangular butt-plug with a ring at the outside end. Stepping back into Ariana’s field of vision with it, she told her in a friendly tone, “Now, Mr. Marks has specifically asked that your training be somewhat humiliating, so this is nothing personal. Bend over.”

Ariana bent at the waist, reaching behind herself to spread her hindquarters for Mistress who stepped behind her and, steadying the new slave with a hand on her back, began to work the large object into her anus. She took her time about it, working the object back and forth, a little more each time, as Ariana began to whimper and moan at each in-thrust. Finally, after several minutes, the butt-plug gave a last pop and was fully inserted. Mistress gave the slave a quick pat on the ass, and Ariana stood, trying to resume her stony visage, though her ass clenched tight around the intruder.

Tapping a few keys on her Palm, Mistress told her, “From now on, you will refer to me only as Mistress, and you will answer only to the name of Airhead.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Airhead responded. Mistress opened the cage next to Cutie-Cunt’s and waved Airhead inside. Airhead stepped in and turned to face her new Mistress, who was fishing a rather large dildo out of one of the drawers. This she tossed to Airhead and told her, “Masturbate with this. You’re to orgasm until you pass out.” With that, Mistress locked the door, scanned the bar-code, and slid a ‘Sold’ placard into the slot on Airhead’s cage while Airhead worked the phallus into herself.

Mistress now crossed in front of Cutie-Cunt’s cage, looking at her and holding up one finger in a ‘one moment’ sort of gesture, and opened Pussy’s cage. Pussy gave a curious mewl but backed away frightfully. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Come on over here.” She pulled Pussy close and told her, “Now, your owner picked your name, so I can’t change that, but I promise you’re going to get some better treatment while you’re under my care.” With that, she pulled a pair of shears out of a jacket pocket and cut Pussy’s wrists free, letting the cat-girl rub them while she went back to the shelves and came back with a generously sized dildo. “Later on, I’ll find someone for you to play with, but for now, you can have some relief with this.”

Pussy smiled at the tool in her hand, looking like a cat that just got handed a canary and reached out to rub her cheek affectionately against Mistress’s. Mistress laughed and told her to let herself come twice and then to get some sleep. Pussy nodded eagerly and purred contentedly as she set to work.

Mistress stepped out of that cage, locking it with a smile. She shook off her heels, then, and opened Cutie-Cunt’s cage, stepping in with stockinged feet. Cutie-Cunt found herself backing away, unsure of what to do as Mistress smiled at her, closing the cage door behind her and letting her hair down.

“So,” Mistress said, looking her up and down, “Everybody else can wait, for now. You definitely need a new name.”

Off to her left, there was a dull thud and she turned to see Airhead’s back leaning against the Plexiglass wall, trembling in orgasm as she fought hard to not moan or cry out. Her hair was matted to her head in sweat and she was breathing heavily as she worked the tool in and out of herself, clearly fighting to not enjoy any of it.

She looked back at her new Mistress and got a smile in return. “I will admit,” Mistress told her, “you are cute, but I don’t want to call you ‘Cutie’ either.”

“May I make a request, then, Mistress?”

“Well, sure. I reserve the right to turn it down, of course...”

“Chess.”

“Chess?” Mistress looked curiously at her.

“Well, it sounds like my old name, only it’s... I don’t know, kinkier, I suppose – pawns and queens alike, all under someone else’s control...”

Mistress’s eyebrows shot up and she looked impressed. “Wow. Okay, then.” She pulled out her Palm and tapped a few keys. “You will answer only to the name of Chess.”

Chess smiled in relief as she identified with her new name. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“No problem,” Mistress smiled back, glancing over her Palm. “I’m afraid heterosexuality just won’t do for you. We need a broader market for our toys, so all of them are converted to bi-sexuality as a standard.”

“Oh,” Chess whispered, blushing.

Mistress looked up at her curiously. “Not comfortable with that?”

Chess shrugged, “I’ve just never really seen anything in girls...”

Mistress tapped once more at her Palm, and another jolt ran through her. “How about now?”

A warm feeling stole over her. She glanced at the smiling – and very pretty – Mistress, and then looked to the right where Pussy was lying on her back, dreamily working her dildo in and out of herself, purring deep with her eyes closed, and then to the left where the sweaty Airhead furiously worked her tool in and out, struggling not to moan in ecstasy. Blushing deeply, she glanced back at Mistress, looking down at the floor in embarrassment and whispering, “Problem solved, Mistress.”

Mistress smiled, stepping up close to Chess and laying a hand on her cheek. “I know you’re feeling a little lost, right now, but try not to feel embarrassed about changing. You’re life is not your own, anymore, so try to enjoy the changes that happen to you, okay?” When Chess smiled back, she said, “Think of it as an adventure.”

Chess simply nodded, still blushing. “Okay, but...”

“What?” Mistress asked encouragingly.

“What if... my new owner wants to make me suffer like Airhead did?”

“Yes, well Airhead chose her buyers based on a desire to make the toys miserable, didn’t she? We’ve called all those scumbags and told them precisely where they can go. From now on, we’re only selling to reputable buyers.”

“Really?” Chess smiled, perking up.

Mistress shrugged. “I can’t deny we might do business with the adult entertainment industry, but at worst, you might wind up doing porn and you’ll absolutely enjoy every moment of it. No whoring and no torture. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Feel better?”

“Yes, Mistress,” she answered, smiling just a little.

“Good! Undress me, and we’ll make your first lesbian experience something to remember.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Nervously, she undressed her Mistress, folding everything neatly and stacking it by the door. Mistress kissed her and she moaned happily, letting her hands roam over Mistress’s body, certain that Mistress was mentally guiding her.

“And Chess?”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Welcome to your new life.”

Chess blushed. “Thank you, Mistress.”