The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

This story is a sequel to ‘The Domme Meme’. I was asked to write further stories showing what would happen if the meme spread more widely. This is one of those stories and features incidents occurring some decades after the original story was set. What is interesting is how since I wrote ‘The Domme Meme’ in 2006 trends in British society have gone further in the direction I noted back then. If you look at the promotion of ‘erotic capital’ in the media and ladies fashions such as over-the-knee boots, platform soles and denim and leather shorts, particularly among university students, all appear to fit in with the sexualisation of women along the lines I outlined.

The Domme Meme: A Next Step

Cait glanced at the time projected on the wall, then clicked on the button in the arm of her chair. The television image sprung into larger than life below the clock.

“With me today is Professor Zerelle Brooke reader in socio-legal studies at the University of Diss. On the tenth anniversary of the passing of the Human Possession Act, popularly known as the Slavery Act, we’ll be discussing what its impact has been on British society and the wider world. Welcome to the programme, professor.”

Cait chuckled to herself: it was ironic that her project was coming to its final stage on the day which marked the anniversary of the legislation that permitted her to carry it out.

“Zerelle, please. Thank you, Icelyn.”

“Zerelle, can I start by asking you why you think Britain has led the way in the re-introduction of slavery?”

“Well, Icelyn, of course, it is not slavery in the historic sense. Slavery of previous centuries was not a choice people made: then captives or people born into slavery became slaves. What we have nowadays in the UK is consensual; it is an agreement that someone makes to waive many rights in exchange for being ‘owned’ by someone else. It is a two-way agreement, with requirements as much of the owner as of the person who becomes their ‘property’.”

“Yes, I see. However, the question remains, why the UK, why not America or Germany or China?”

“A lot of it stems from trends in UK society, the coming together of different factors, cultural and social in the decades preceding the act. Sexual liberation came to the entire West in the 1960s and 1970s, but in the UK it was not tempered by religion in the way it was in much of continental Europe and certainly the USA. Then towards the end of the 20th century we saw a commercialisation of British society, transport, education, health, justice, were all steadily put into the for-profit sector, many workers felt simply like commodities of their employers; high unemployment levels added to that sense.”

“These factors were not unique to the UK though.”

“That is true, but that is where the cultural factors came in. If we look back to the sexualisation of advertising and videos; the slogans young women started wearing in the 2000s, things like ‘porn star’. Then in the 2010s, the acceptance as mainstream of fashions that were once associated with prostitutes: tattoos and piercings were already common but now there were leather shorts, thigh-length boots, platform soles. These styles caught on among university students as much as they did with women from a housing estate. Into the mix came the ‘honey money’ concept, promoted by large sections of the media, that women needed to ‘make the most of themselves’ in order to get on. The first sexual revolution had led to Feminism, this second step reversed it, Ancillism caught on. Those students may have graduated but were loath to walk away from the sexy styles that they had loved and so we steadily had mature. often quite well off women, still embracing that trend. With such women happy to support these tendencies you soon had majority support in society for them as there was always a large portion of the male population happy to see women more sexualised.”

“And the impact of celebrities.”

“That was certainly important in the next step. Once walking around with a woman or a man on a chain was something done to shock, but with more celebrities coming out as owners, even though at that time they were simply playing, you had a context in which legislation was almost inevitable.”

“So for the first time in over two centuries, slavery came back. Is it completely accepted by society?”

“Enough that we will not see repeal of it any time soon, no matter how hard Wilberforce or any of the anti-slavery groups campaign. Of course, for many people it does not touch their lives, they live as they would have done back in the 2010s, they are neither owners nor owned and they know no-one who is. Yet, no-one looks twice if they see a slave being walked by their owner into a restaurant or around a shopping centre. Discussion of the history and rules of sexual slavery is part of the National Curriculum for personal, social and health education, so no-one grows up not knowing what it is about. I think this has doused the concerns of some who thought people would be tricked into slavery.”

“I understand. Are you among those seeking the reduction in the age limit?”

“I simply analyse and comment on developments, Icelyn, it is for others to drive them. However, I think setting the minimum age for voluntary slavery at 21 is sensible, it has worked this past decade.”

“And the duration of the contracts?”

“I know there are pressure groups such as Dee/ess, Collar and the Owners’ Guild who would like them extended from a year to five years, even indefinite, but I think it is right to have checks and balances. If an owner is complying with requirements, then it is simple to have a renewal. However, I believe the Hill-Bradley case highlights the need for let-outs. After all, we have long permitted divorce, why should a more intense form of partnership not have escape clauses too?”

This was an issue that particularly interested Cait. She had been a probationary member of the Owners’ Guild for the past three months and had made donations to Collar for its campaigning work. To her, one year contracts left too much to chance. She had no desire for her plan to unravel in just twelve months’ time. However, for the moment, as the professor had made clear, she would have to settle for what she could get.

“And what about these stories about people being hypnotised, brain washed into offering themselves as slaves?”

“Icelyn, as far as I know they are just that: stories. When you have a shift in the public circumstances around sexuality a lot of speculation, a lot of fantasy too, is bound to follow. Many of the stories we are hearing these days are little different to the ones put around at the time of the last great shift in sexuality in the late 1960s.”

Cait was about to switch programmes when two images on screen caught her attention. Both showed women around her age. The first image apparently was of a woman from about 2000 and the other of one in modern day styles. The two images revolved as the professor and the presenter discussed them. To Cait’s eyes the 2000 image looked peculiar, very dowdy. Saying that the modern day image was nothing exceptional. Admittedly the latex dress she was wearing today was black rather than the electric blue on screen but instead of the plain two-inch platformed stiletto heeled shoes in the image, she had her higher, gladiator strap cone heeled ones. Blonde hair down to the waist had been the style for as long as Cait could remember; most girls had their hair permanently blonded when they turned thirteen; Cait remembered having her nose and navel pierced around the same time. Her tongue and labia piercings had followed two years later though she had not had her nipples done until her breast enlargements, a few sizes below the legal limit, but that was pretty common too. The rose design tattooed across her body had been the work of a number of years, the result of numerous Saturday mornings, only to be revealed in its full glory at the ‘servicing’ she had arranged for herself and her closest three friends to celebrate her eighteenth birthday.

Cait’s attention was taken from the programme and her memories by the bleeping that indicated a text message had come into her system. She was delighted when she saw it was from Mr. Voclain saying that he would be at the house in ten minutes.

“Rei, he will be here in ten minutes.” Cait called to her step-daughter.

“Yes!” The young woman replied as if to an order.

Cait smiled as she knew she was only minutes from the completion of her plan that had begun four years ago, soon after her husband’s death. Her step-daughter had been rather resistant at the start, seeming to want to remain distinct from the fashionable attitudes of her generation. However, by feeding subliminal training into her playlist, Cait had begun to shift her opinions. She had been hesitant about Rachel’s desire to go to university, but now realised it had helped the unfolding of her plan far more than she would have ever anticipated. At first Rachel’s rebellious tendencies had been accentuated. However, Ancillism was common at most universities now, in the way that Cait guessed Feminism had been in her grandmother’s day and perhaps still even in her mother’s time. Much contemporary thinking taught in universities was about a woman’s and a man’s proper place in society. When Cait saw that her step-daughter had been assigned to read the complete works of Steven Douglas and third-generation Normanite novels, she had become increasingly confident that the ideas Rachel was being exposed to in her studies fitted in with her own plans. The big step had come when Rachel had fallen for a doctoral student who had rebuffed her on the grounds that she was insufficiently submissive and unwilling to commit to becoming his slave when she graduated. Soon Rachel was not only a leading light of the university’s Ancillist Society but had begun to associate with Nu-Geisha groups.

Cait had reinforced Rachel’s changing attitudes with the kind of music and electronic books she had sent, not only through their content but with subliminal messages encouraging submissiveness secreted within them. Rachel was soon welcoming the spending sprees that Cait offered, shopping for clothes, boots and jewellery just of the kind that a good slave would have. By the time Rachel had graduated, Cait had no doubt her wardrobe was precisely that which owners would welcome her having. Cait was more than happy to pay for the N-G transformation that Rachel was now eager for. Her step-daughter was turned from a rather run-of-the-mill Caucasian into a stunningly beautiful Oriental Asian her parents would not have recognised, and the terribly old-fashioned name they had left her with was replaced by the more suitable ‘Rei’. Fitting with Nu-Geisha approaches, Rei adopted the mixture of classical behaviour with sexy Japanese street styles. As soon as she had committed to offering herself as a slave, Cait had taken steps to match her with an ideal owner, not only wanting the best for Rei, but also one who was amenable to compensating the stepmother who had refined her. Cait, knew, however, that the greatest reward simply would be in getting the house she had inherited all to herself and the chance to access Rei’s inheritance as she turned more and more into the perfect slave, unconcerned with her old life but, rather, focused purely on best serving her master.

The door bell sounded and Cait headed towards the front of the house. She pressed her hand controller and the door slid open to reveal Mr. Voclain. The images of him that Cait had seen did not do him justice. He was a trim man in his late forties, close to Cait in height. He wore a long buttoned coat of some shiny black material that reminded Cait of priests she had seen in history books. The way the coat shaped around his torso, showed her that beneath that layer he was muscular, whether from exercise, implants or a mixture of the two, she could not tell. The skin on his face and hands were tanned contrasting with bright blond hair that was spiked up. While the money this man was willing to pay her for the finder’s fee had been a major consideration, Cait had drawn the line at selling Rei off to some scummy elderly man unable to get sex except through buying it. Voclain looked more like the classic owner that she had come to expect now she was mixing with guild members.

“Caitlin Evans, I presume.”

“Monsieur Voclain.”

“Precisely.”

Voclain would not be the first dominant from continental Europe who had relocated to Britain to take advantage of its liberal laws. For people like him it had become even easier three years ago when an amendment to the Act had allowed foreigners resident in the UK to own slaves as long as they did not try to take them out of the country; there was no longer a need to naturalise to British nationality to enjoy slavery.

“Is Rei ready?”

“Yes.”

Cait turned expectantly, just as she had rehearsed with her step-daughter. Rei stepped into the room, her eyes lowered demurely though her body and the clothes it wore shouted eroticism. Her hair was raven black and stretched to her waist, today in a long plait running from the crown of her head. Her skin was the pale shade favoured by the nu-geishas, but brought alive by vivid laser-etched tattoos: red and black patterns flamed out from her now elliptical eyes and her scanty clothes revealed the tapestry of lotus flowers entwined with dragons, running along her arms, down her back, around her midriff and on to her thighs, just the ‘yakuza-moll’ style that long been in favour. Her clothes were all a cloudy cinnamon shade and of the thick vinyl with the impossibly slippery shine that impressed Cait. The halter bustier was closed with a single silver stud in the shape of a lotus leaf that matched the one on her short kilted skirt. From beneath it emerged the slender belts holding up her stockings that were latex rather than vinyl. Hints of the skin beneath could be seen through the thin mesh filled flame-shaped panels cut into the stockings. Her patent shoe-boots had the geta-style soles nu geishas loved. The final touch was the red rubber-coated collar at her neck; its shade matching the dominant colour of her tattoos. Owners liked to lock collars to their slaves, Cait knew, but it never did harm, she had read, to show a potential owner that this slave was for real.

Rei went down on to her knees with her head bowed. At first Cait had not understood the nu geisha approach but now even though it did not appeal to her, she could see why the mixture of coy and explicitly erotic was liked by many. Rei parted the lips of her small round mouth, something else the process had altered. Any woman could have the pussy-like full lips but Cait knew that a man would love having his cock drawn into this tight opening; the oral sex subliminals for Rachel had been an excellent investment. By the time Rachel had even considered becoming Rei she had both the desire and ability to expertly suck any future master’s cock. Cait relished seeing a demonstration in the next few minutes. The sight of the sulky, arrogant student taking half of the money that should have been Cait’s, she had known less than four years earlier, turned into this obedient, sexual toy, brought real pleasure to Cait. Now the final piece of the transformation would be complete and Rei would be out of Cait’s way, allowing her to become an owner herself. By the end of today, Mauro would be installed as Cait’s first slave and she looked forward to using him to the full.

“So good, so good.” Voclain said.

Cait saw he had an image of Rachel as she had been and was comparing it with the woman before him.

“Yes, that is excellent, unable to stop herself from being transformed, being changed into the perfect nu-geisha.” He continued.

Cait had no doubt that the transaction was going to go ahead. She had worried that despite all the discussions with Voclain and the deposit he had put down that at the end he would change his mind. He almost seemed paralysed as Rei reached forward and unzipped his flies. His cock sprang clear and Cait admired the size and length wondering how much of it was original and how much augmentation. Rei lowered her head as she grasped the base of his cock and then looked up at the man who was soon to be her master just the way she had been taught.

“Can I pleasure you master?” Rei asked.

“Yes, yes!”

Cait looked on, loving the whole scene. It made her shudder delightfully to see the young woman who she had had to be responsible for crafted into some man’s slave. She had no doubt that Mr. Voclain would take good care of Rei and that in turn her mind had been shaped so well that she would never have any desire to leave him and come back to bother Cait’s life ever again. She trusted that, in time, the law would catch up with the objectives of groups like Collar so that people could become slaves for life and their belongings would default to their next of kin. In the meantime she looked forward to becoming a proper owner and parading the streets with the slave that would be here in less than an hour.

Cait watched as Rei expertly kept her lips around the rim of the head of her master’s penis, not being foolish in sliding it deep into her mouth but concentrating her the shiny full lips of her tight little mouth just where he could feel it best. It was no surprise that Voclain was soon bucking, spraying his jism into his latest possession; Cait was sure he could make no other decision now.

Rei knelt back on her haunches and licked some jism from the corner of her mouth in a way that Cait felt like applauding. She guessed she should feel some pride for what a well-trained slave Rei had turned out to be.

“Mr. Voclain, are you happy to take Rei as your slave?”

Voclain nodded as he caught his breath. “Yes, yes, I will.”

While the master put his cock away, Cait brought him the two hard copies of the contract. Rei had already signed hers. In moments Voclain had signed both and put one copy into his pocket. Owners and their slaves tended to like the traditional ways of doing things. For anyone who demanded something more modern, there would be enough DNA on the two contracts that neither could deny it had been them that had signed.

“The funds.” Voclain said tapping some keys on his wrist phone.

Cait pressed controls on her own and her online balance appeared. Seconds later it had risen by the sum agreed. Both parties were satisfied now the rest was ritual. Before Voclain could reach for the leash that Cait noticed was looped around his belt, Rei produced a lovely red one that matched her outfit. Her master nodded in recognition of her thoughtfulness and attached it to her collar.

“Rise.”

“Yes, Master.”

While Cait knew Rei must have practiced it a thousand times this first time for real came across with a force that made Cait quiver. She could see that it aroused both Rei and her owner too. As was proper Rei now seemed oblivious to her step-mother, her focus was purely on the man who owned her for at least the next twelve months.

“Thank you, Ms. Evans for arranging everything, so I could have your daughter…”

Cait raised her hand. “Your slave, Monsieur Voclain, your slave.”

“Yes, yes, thank you for my slave.”

“It was nothing, after all, I have been well rewarded in so many ways.”

Voclain bowed his head in acknowledgement and headed back to the door, his slave strutting behind him with a mix of pride and utter humility. Cait opened the door and in moments they were through it and gone. She did not stop to watch Voclain drive away, instead she pressed the recall on her wrist phone.

“William, yes, it’s Cait. Is he ready?”

From the other end of the call the voice confirmed her slave was ready. Impatiently Cait returned to her online balance and transferred a slightly smaller sum than she had received from Voclain to the account of William Milner the man who was supplying Mauro. Moments later the confirmation came to her. Cait grinned to herself: she had thirty minutes in order to ready herself for her first slave and she was determined to look the perfect owner. She headed to her bedroom, pondering which of her leather corsets and pairs of thigh boots would look the best.