The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Pam sat in the dark, patiently awaiting her next training session.

Or punishment.

Or anything else they were going to do to her.

The past two months had been an implacable, humiliating process of learning how to submit to the most demanding and degrading sexual exercises and tasks. Miss Gardener had been appointed her “governess” and it was the stiff, stern woman, virtually her own age, who had devised the training course she was now trying to survive.

“You’re to be trained to give pleasure bitch—THAT’s your job now!” Miss Gardener had promised her when they had first met. The plain brunette was clearly frustrated with her own position of servitude and was passing it on to her, making her life more miserable—if that were possible—even than those of the teenagers for whom she was also responsible.

Miss Gardener’s training regimen had begun with Pamela’s introduction to the Dildo Pole. “You need to learn that you’re a performer now. You must use your body to amuse your masters. And nothing amuses men more than to watch a haughty bitch like you learn to do the Dildo Dance.”

The Dildo Dance.

Pamela hadn’t asked any questions. She hadn’t cried and struggled. Her first few attempts at protesting what was happening to her had been met with whippings. So she held her tongue, knowing Miss Gardener would tell her precisely what she would be expected to do with the dildo pole that jutted out of its base some three and a half feet into the air.

“You’re going to learn how to mount the pole and dance on it.” With that, Pamela’s arms had been drawn up into the air. Miss Gardener’s crop had crashed down on her backside and she’d spread her legs instantly. Tears of shame had streamed down her cheeks as she positioned her crotch over the steel metal dildo.

“Now show me how you fuck it, Bitch. And fuck it HARD, like you’d fuck a man!” The crop caught her ass square and her body had swung wildly, swaying back from the crop as much as she could. But the rain of Miss Gardener’s swats had intensified, slowing only when Pam had managed to impale herself on the freezing metal pole.

“Good girl. Now fuck, baby, fuck!”

And so she had, to her ‘governess’s’ mocking applause.

The dildo pole, now a regular part of her day, was far preferable to the lesbian strap-on and vibrator ‘courses’ she was a student in. Miss Gardener had been instructed to teach Pam the all the mysteries of sex toys and she had been made available to some of the more lesbian-oriented of the secretaries at Gilded Cage. Pam had been trussed and then Miss Gardener had set her bitch pack on her. Every available orifice Pam had to offer was then filled to the point of bursting in a lesbian-dildo Hell. Whirring electric vibrators followed hard, black strap-ons as she was raped repeatedly by her sister slaves, who seemed thrilled that they for once were on the giving and not receiving end of discipline.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she had ventured in her second week in captivity.

While the nude, oiled-down dykes gasped at Pam’s effrontery, Miss Gardener merely smiled her razor-sharp smile. “Because you’re being trained to be someone’s special whore,’ she had explained. “And you’ll have to learn to give pleasure as well as the best-trained Hollywood call girl and obey as well as the most obedient little harem girl. Now, fill the bitch up—I want that dildo all the way up her as this time, girls—that’s ALL the way.”

When it seemed she that she just couldn’t take another inch of plastic jammed up her ass, she had crossed her legs and refused. Instead of being mad, her defiance only gave Miss Gardener yet more opportunities to punish her. She would be strung up in the garden and any Gilded Cage girl who wanted to do so would accept the invitation written on her stomach: “Please Whip Me.” Many merely shook their heads, but some of the younger and mor spiteful bitches would grab the hanging whip and paint her backside with painful red stripes.

But today had been different. There had been no dildo dance session, no dyke strap-on rapes, no whipping post. She had waited crouching in her cage all day, with only the water in her bowl and the bread on her dish to distract her.

But there were footsteps now, people coming down into the basement...

“Here she is, Ma’am.” It was Miss Gardener, with an uncharacteristic timidity in her voice.

But for a short grunt, the person she was talking to ignored her and walked toward the caged woman through the shadows. Miss Gardener followed behind respectfully. Finally the person stood before her. Assuming it was a man, Pamela had long since assumed a position on her knees, with her forehead pressed against the stone floor.

“She’s been trained to your specifications, Ma’am. I hope you’ll be pleased.”

“If not, you’ll be the first one to know about it, Miss Gardener.”

It was Joanne. Joanne Morgan. She hadn’t seen her since, since... Oh yes—the two girls... their apartment. Then Joanne... changing her somehow, making her think differently about what she said, about how important it was to obey Mr. Klaw and his slaves, slaves like Joanne and Miss Gardener. Had she come to claim her? Was she her new mistress?

“Up on your feet Pamela.”

Pamela obeyed, but kept her eyes low. She saw now that Keith... Mr. Hynde... was alto there, watching.

“I understand you’ve been Miss Gardener’s best pupil these last few weeks. Are you ready to show me how well you’ve learned your new lessons?” Joanne wasn’t waiting for an answer. She was unzipping Mr. Hynde’s trousers.

Pamela knew she should be furious, that she should resist, that she COULD resist and...

She slipped to her knees effortlessly and took the proffered cock into her mouth hungrily. It tasted better than the plastic strap-on and it was with something close to pleasure as she accepted the deep-throating. As she sucked, Mr. Hynde patted her head.

“Looks like your student was paying attention, Miss Gardener. Congratulations—this bitch is ready.” He pulled out quickly and spurted cum over the female executive’s face.

The hot splash felt wet, warm and sticky. Her tongue stretched to accept the goo into her mouth. The taste transported her to an earlier memory, of someone else’s humiliation.

Her voice sounded strange even to her. “I—I—”

Mr. Hynde placed his cock back within his pants. “What is it, slut?”

“I’m not some slut!” The cum was making her gurgle slightly, but there was a trace of pride there. She was not the master here, but she had been once...

“Yes you are.” He turned and walked away.

She looked up, tongue still lapping at the silky cum. “I am?”

Jo looked at Miss Gardener, who suppressed a smirk. She nodded.

“I’m afraid so. During your training, some of your fantasies did reveal something to me, something that since you’ve been here I’ve had the opportunity to speak to Miss Gardener about. Your distressing attitude towards lesbianism.”

Miss Gardener rocked slightly on her heels.

“It is something that needs to be addressed in your future here at Gilded Cage. I was speaking to your governess here—”

Pam snorted. The woman was her own age—the title continued to annoy her!

“—and she suggested that you needed special tutoring in that area. Now Miss Gardener,” she continued more slowly, “said she has taken a personal interest in you. You may not know this, but for all her efficiency, Miss Gardener is an extremely lonely woman.”

Pam shook her head. “Please,” she whispered, “nooooo—”

Jo continued implacably. “And so I’m giving you, with Mr. Klaw’s blessing, to the care of Miss Gardener. Perhaps you could show your new mistress how happy you are to belong to her now?”

Miss Gardener, silently triumphant, seated herself on a nearby chair and spread her legs. Shell shocked, Pamela Henessey knelt between her new mistress’s legs. While Joanne watched, she began to lap. Miss Gardener (’Mistress’ to her now she wondered?) gasped as her new slave girl pleasured her.

“Goodbye Pamela.” Joanne turned to walk away.

Pamela wanted to say something... anything... but her new mistress placed a firm hand on the back of her head and pulled her face more closely into her crotch.

Pamela licked.