The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

1.

tool stalked naked through the mansion, Mistress’ hypnotic summons chiming in her head.

Even with the heat on, the majestic old pile was drafty, but tool just welcomed the reminder of how exposed she was. her pussy was shaven smooth and felt the air. As she went, tool realized that she hadn’t always kept herself bare down there: it had pleased Mistress to have her that way, after She’d taken tool.

tool didn’t wonder why Mistress let her remember seeing the little dark-brown thicket there, but not other things, like her name. tool just enjoyed how it felt being the one among Mistress’ slavegirls who was allowed—and needed—neither clothing nor a name.

A pair of chambermaids coming from one of the downstairs parlors pulled away from her as she passed. The Asian with a runner’s long limbs turned away from her, sneering but fearful, and the plump little bottle-blonde followed her lead but glanced furtively at tool. tool knew the fascination she exerted—not as herself, she was less than nothing, but as Mistress’ instrument.

“Stop.”

they froze. she turned to step past them into the parlor, looking at what Mistress would care about—books put away, fresh water in the carafe, dust cleared, drapes suitable for the light this time of day. Other details unrolled behind her eyes as she inspected their work, and tool could almost feel the anticipation as they waited. Failure to please would not mean punishment, but sometimes reprogramming could hurt.

Sometimes, also, a reprogrammed slave came out noticeably less herself than she went in. The bits of individuality Mistress left most of Her slaves were precious enough to them that they tried hard not to lose them, and it was bitter to see someone even more mindless than you were because she’d been careless with the furniture—and Mistress’ tool had noticed.

Mistress usually liked tool to take the offenders downstairs herself, sometimes a while after they’d erred and perhaps had time to feel safe before tool came and summoned them for deeper brainwashing. The way they looked at her when she did that made tool very wet, but there was an aching afterward she could never find pleasant.

Once she’d found a collection of old glassware all out of order, and surprised herself by trying to put it right with her own hands, but her body had gone numb and she’d stood in a daze for endless minutes while slave karen, the chambermaid who’d erred, waited outside, slowly panicking. karen hadn’t seen what tool tried to do, and she spent her last minutes of real awareness hissing quiet curses at tool from the conditioning rack as tool strapped her in.

The pulsing lights had silenced karen and seduced her widening eyes into staring at them, and those eyes had been emptier ever since. karen kept the guards happy these days, and cursed no one.

tool saw nothing amiss in this room, now, and sent the two slaves on their way. they scurried off without looking at her again.

they didn’t matter, the way the odd tug in her chest each time another slave shunned her didn’t matter.

Only Mistress mattered, and tool’s heart leaped to know she would attend Her now. Even as her guts softened with the fright of being with Her.

In the outer room of Mistress’ chambers on the second floor, she found slave christina at the computer, her shoulders quivering with fatigue but her fingers light as ever across the keyboard. tool knew she’d been here doing this since last night.

“christina.”

The typing slowed, halted. The other slave looked up, meeting her eyes almost defiantly. “Mistress must have sorted files before tonight.”

tool didn’t know when error might creep into christina’s work. Mistress didn’t let tool think that deeply. But she did know that Mistress didn’t use up Her property wastefully, and while it might be christina’s joy to be worked to her death, Mistress had not yet made it Her will. She would have programmed tool to make sure christina died productively.

“you must sleep,” tool told the other slave, holding her gaze.

slave christina tensed, her need to please their Owner by performing her programmed task almost hurting her. her glare said what her mouth couldn’t, that she hated tool for making her stop.

But she stared back into tool’s eyes, her resistance subsiding. “Yes,” she whispered. “Must . . . sleep . . .”

tool stepped back and christina floated to her feet, her eyelids falling and fluttering open again, as real weariness reinforced tool’s hypnosis. In moments tool knew that the trance was the only thing keeping the other slave awake, as Mistress’ brainwashing left her helpless to lose consciousness until she was told to.

christina followed her across the room to a sofa and settled into it with dreamy grace, still looking helplessly up into tool’s eyes. “you will fall deeply asleep the moment your head feels the cushion,” tool said softly. “you will sleep until you are told to awaken. Obey.”

christina’s “i obey” was slurred as her body melted onto the sofa, and tool stood over her for a moment, trying to understand what she was feeling, seeing the girl’s face soften into relaxation. tool felt almost as though she’d stood over someone sleeping before, feeling protective and gentle. But as she turned that over in her mind she found something inviting in the way christina sprawled prettily there, trapped in sleep.

Inviting tool to hurt her.

she had done something like that. Once. More than once.

tool shuddered. No. Enough. One of Mistress’ computer sluts was safely resting now, not spoiling the work or reducing her usefulness by straining herself. That was all that mattered.

Mistress waited. she went in to attend Her.

2.

As always, tool’s insides fluttered to be near Her, and seeing Her unclothed, as She liked to be in Her house among Her slavewomen, hit a yearning deep inside tool. tool knew she herself had no depths but those Mistress plumbed in her, and knew they were no more than places for the hooks Mistress had on every part of her.

tool wanted to fall prone and howl her gratitude, but she was used to it, and it was enough that Mistress knew, and laughed.

Mistress was even more naked than Her slave, since She wore neither collar nor heels. But Mistress reveled in Her power to walk in just Her skin past women who could physically tear Her apart, others who—before She’d crushed their wills—had hated Her deeply and long.

Women whose minds She’d twisted so thoroughly that the thought of hurting Her, the least image of so much as disappointing Her, could induce suicide.

One of them stood in Her room now, erect in a bikini that showed her muscle definition, her collar with the red tag of a guard. Only the guard’s conditioning to protect her Owner let her move her gaze to recognize tool’s approach, before flicking back to focus on Mistress as She stretched.

tool stopped, spellbound as always by the sight of Her, the moisture between her thighs light and familiar. It wasn’t enough to daze or distract her, but it reinforced how different and wonderful it was for tool to be in Her presence, at a level too deep in tool’s brain for her to know, much less resist.

Sometimes, Mistress touched tool as She went about things, kept her at Her side or beneath Her feet like a favorite cushion. tool served Her just because it was the reason tool lived and breathed, not for any reward, but even so it was always sweet to be used that way.

Mistress Herself didn’t turn at the crisp sound of tool’s high heels on the tiles of the floor, looking instead through the window-wall at the pine woods beyond. It made being in the room feel exposed, vulnerable the way Mistress liked to play. A room of nude women in repose with nothing but glass between them and the forest primeval.

In front of the window, just a silhouette now in the winter-evening dimness, a fourth woman hung in a sling suspended from a tripod. Her hands were bound and limp, her thighs spread, and her half-open eyes flat. She’d been in the forest that morning.

Other guard-slaves of Mistress’ crept endlessly through the trees, warding Her night and day, never cold in their bikinis after Mistress or Her trainer told them how warm and free they felt serving Her. They’d found the woman and two men preparing to camp out there. The men and their SUV would be found later, far away, but the slaves had brought the girl to their Owner, only lightly drugging her.

Her name, up to now, had been Cathy.

tool had been allowed to watch for a little while, until Mistress sent her away to sleep. Cathy had held herself together, until Mistress explained who’d be blamed for her disappearance now, and where the search would be held before it petered out. tool felt herself split again, wanting to go over and hold the girl until her tears stopped, but ready to scream with the pleasure of doing nothing while Mistress played and hurt her.

she didn’t think Mistress had truly broken Cathy yet. Mistress had the laboratory and the special chambers down in the basement for that. But She enjoyed playing with women who still had their wills, sometimes, before taking their wills away. tool was vaguely aware of her thighs tightening as she wondered how long it would be before the girl begged to be owned.

“slave julianna did very well today,” She said, gazing out at the invisibly-defended pines. “she secured My House, killed two enemies before they knew they were enemies, and brought Me a delicious little toy.”

tool waited. julianna was first among the guards, and she despised tool more than any of Mistress’ other slaves did. slave julianna was as thoroughly brainwashed as tool or anyone else here, and her eyes would glaze over at just the thought of being told to kiss Mistress’ ass. But She left the guards with more initiative than any of Her other property, and they looked down on the menials, the whores, anyone who served Her in any other way.

There was a deep place in tool she would have been afraid to know she had. In that place, part of her wondered: were the guards close enough to the free women they’d been, before Mistress made Herself their religion, that they could still feel hate for being enslaved, though not for Her Who had enslaved them? Their hate would go somewhere else—toward Her will-less instrument.

Her tool.

tool remembered ellen, one of julianna’s guards. tool had found her one day in trance, staring helplessly at a candle in Mistress’ meditation room after She’d completed Her mysterious time there. tool knew ellen had had other difficulties and that julianna had been working with her, but she reported the slave’s lapse when Mistress looked into her eyes and willed her to speak.

The next day, after Mistress and Her trainer took ellen downstairs, her eyes were as flat and empty as karen the housemaid’s, and her lithe body was sluggish and awkward.

The next night a van had come and ellen had walked out to it. she stepped in and it was gone.

julianna’s eyes found tool often, after that.

“julianna has been an exemplary weapon,” Mistress mused. “she certainly has a hold over the other guards.” She glanced at the amazon attending Her. “If this one weren’t mesmerized by My presence now she’d be dreaming of julianna. she’s used it to make them even more effective.”

Mistress breathed in. “I’d say she’s made a great recovery.”

tool felt a twinge. Though her own duties gave her no reason to be told, she’d heard from other girls’ whispers that someone had tried to attack Mistress during one of her trips to the city. tool could never retain its name, but didn’t need one to know she hated any place that held danger for her Owner.

The other slaves said julianna had stepped between Mistress and a gun. she ‘d been shot twice, and she’d overpowered the man who’d threatened Her, holding him down until others could take him. she’d done it without killing him, which pleased Mistress by giving Her a chance to carry him off and make him regret trying to kill Her, regret thinking of it, regret being born.

julianna had been away for a while, and tool had not known what to feel, other than great relief that Mistress was alive and enjoying Her vengeance—with small, guilty relief that she didn’t need to feel julianna’s hate on her skin. Then julianna had returned, healed and utterly focused on protecting Mistress. tool had seen her resting once, after she’d been brought back from wherever Mistress had sent her to recover, listening to headphones as she slept.

Even wounded, even mindless in whatever trance the headphones were maintaining, she frightened tool.

Mistress’ voice resumed and blew tool’s memories away like dead leaves.

“I’ve thought about it and I think she’s earned a reward. Something I know she wants very much.” Mistress looked at tool. “Something I know she’ll make the most of.

“Come to Me now. Look deeply into My eyes.”

tool almost came where she stood, but she obeyed, feeling the power of Mistress’ will almost warmer on her skin than the nearness of Mistress Herself. The joy of opening herself to Mistress’ instruction was always new, always overwhelming.

she started to wish that, instead, this had been one of those moments when Mistress had chosen to spend a glance and a word on Her tool. But as usual, that yearning just softened her as she felt her mind bending under Mistress’ gaze.

tool remembered little about who she’d been before Mistress enslaved her, but each time She hypnotized tool personally, tool felt it take her back to the moment she’d surrendered. Been broken.

Been born.

yes . . . Mistress . . . i am . . . i will . . . I must . . .

3.

tool made it down the stairs. she didn’t know whether it was lust or terror that made her legs so weak, but the nearer fear of falling and injuring herself was sharper, and kept her in a panicked calm. Worse than anything she faced when she obeyed the command that saddled her mind and spurred her through the mansion was the idea of making herself unable to obey.

First a side-errand, though, at Her will. If it had been anything else, part of tool—the part that cried when Mistress hurt her and wanted to hear it, the part that wished there were another slave who wanted to talk to her—would have been glad to delay.

But not this.

tool was at the door to the cellar, and as she raised her hand to open it, the heat between her thighs and the ice down her spine seemed to exchange a thermoelectric charge. she couldn’t hear herself moan. she was panting when she reached the foot of the stairs. The frail clatter of her heels on the concrete was so weak here, without even the brittle illusion of power when they clicked on the hardwood upstairs.

she ignored the two slaves in white tunics who were tending the captives being conditioned in adjoining alcoves, and didn’t see the looks they gave to her or to the inner door she went to open.

Inside the special chamber, she stopped, and looked.

The woman—tool’s mind called her bitchflesh and her pussy clenched in damp echo—lay flat on the table, the restraints folded neatly by her limbs. They hadn’t been necessary for a long time now. Only her lips and her pelvis moved, and nothing else would move unless bitchflesh were told to move it by someone she was programmed to obey. Her body was otherwise still and deceptively relaxed under the shifting light of the indoctrination display hanging over her, as she stared up into it, lost.

If the room caught fire and the display shorted out and fell slowly on top of her, bitchflesh wouldn’t stir.

tool knew she wouldn’t, because at least once during the slave’s conditioning the burning had been at the end of something in tool’s hands, and it had been while the other woman was still able to think of screaming.

tool watched the display flicker on the woman’s unblinking eyes. There were no headphones anymore. bitchflesh whispered the lessons perfectly now as the visual cues triggered her, on and on, over and over, and her pussy jerked out, hungry and waiting.

It wasn’t quite time yet, and tool’s eyes wandered to the rack of tapes, the record of the bitchflesh’s treatment and breaking. One was empty, and tool wondered whether Mistress had had it brought up to Her bedroom to enjoy.

Mistress had let tool remember a lot about this slave. tool helplessly felt herself slip back to the day or night when she’d stood beside the table, looking down at the woman straining desperately against the restraints they’d still needed. tool had been well-trained and tied her so she couldn’t even dislocate anything, much less free herself.

This moment in tool’s memory was clear. Mistress had just explained something to the new slave. she wasn’t bitchflesh yet, not quite, and the slave had gone still, her muscles taut and gleaming under the sweat. her eyes had tracked over to tool.

tool had flinched at the horror in them.

“No.

“No! Not like her!”

tool had felt the hot/cold rush, as Mistress laughed and the slave went tighter, closing her eyes.

“Maybe not. you may be better.

“tool, blow her mind again.”

Now tool watched bitchflesh as she lay back and accepted what Mistress wanted in her mind.

tool shivered, knowing there was a camera on them both, that Mistress could see how afraid she was. But Mistress’ control held every cell in her body, and tool stepped to the table to obey her programming, already transfixed by the nude pussy. bitchflesh was juicing at whatever her brainwashing was telling her to think now. Reflecting the display’s cold light, her cunt was like a little neon sign, drawing tool.

It hypnotized tool a little, to watch.

she wasn’t just here to watch. she felt her body move. The slave’s legs parted easily at her touch and she leaned down to the urgently-scented pinkness, turned on even as her nose and mind filled with the other slave’s arousal. tool kept her eyes open as she began to lap, looking up the slave’ s belly through the shallow valley of her breasts, seeing the upturned face blank, rapt in the display.

As tool tongued her, the slave’s whispering grew louder and more uneven, and tool could hear her start to cry out bits of her devotion, promising Mistress the soul she no longer had, the will she could no longer remember.

tool pulled herself onto the table, feeling bitchflesh’s warm, trembling thighs against her own flanks and the heat of the woman’s cleft against her breastbone, as tool rode up along its juices. she stopped before reaching the slave’s face, careful not to block whatever the display was using to mesmerize her.

she began to suck and nibble on the slave’s breasts, guided by the sharpening cries and by the hardening nipples on her tongue, and by the way bitchflesh was slowly writhing underneath her. The slave was breathing faster, thrusting her breasts toward tool even though she was too trapped in the display images to be fully aware tool was there.

bitchflesh was so deeply conditioned that she couldn’t think of anything but what her mind was already programmed to say, but tool heard her pleas in her tone as she prayed to Mistress, more and more desperately. tool felt her own pussy warming, bare inches from the slave’s, and part of her wanted to slide up and rub them together, reaching down and bringing them both off as they screamed Mistress’ name in each other’s ears.

But her own programming snuffed the thought out even as she began to stiffen with wanting it, and she slid off. tool turned her head away from the unbearable sight of the slave’s open, needful face and stopped, realizing she’d glimpsed the display and knowing where the missing tape had gone.

The slave was watching herself being broken for the last time. The endlessly withheld orgasm tool had just helped deny her again was melting whatever was left of her mind around that memory forever.

tool almost remembered—

4.

she stood, feeling their juices cooling on her skin, and stared at the blank wall until her mind could match its emptiness.

When she was able to move and think, and the quieter whispering from the table was just an erotic feather-touch on her pussy, she thought of a desperate whisper: Not like her.

But Mistress willed it so. She wanted another completely will-less instrument, and she would have one soon.

tool had no pride, and no sense that she was special to Mistress. she didn ‘t know how this could threaten her, or why she was afraid. But it did, and she was.

she remembered her main task, and then she knew what real fear was.

julianna.

Oh . . . Mistress.

tool kept her back straight as she turned away from the softly disintegrating slave on the table and left the special chamber.

This time the brainwashing attendants left their work and came to stand before her. they were more blank-faced than the other household slaves upstairs, but they seemed to bask in Mistress’ power as they perceived it radiating through tool.

“Are there new instructions, tool of my Mistress?” asked one, and she blinked nervously, as through wondering if tool had found fault with her.

tool found words in her head that She had put there for that question. “Mistress wills that when its programming cycle ends, you are to awaken the bitchflesh in there and give it basic commands before sending it to attend Her pleasure.

“She may have need of it.” tool kept her voice steady, not thinking about why Mistress might.

“we obey,” the slaves said, their voices discordant but still oddly pleasing. they turned away and tool felt a bleak desire to call them back: staring into their eyes was marginally better than being alone. But her mind was empty of any pretext to delay them or herself, just the weak need to wait.

she stepped to the shower stall, taking off her heels and getting under the water, cleaning the sweat and honey from herself and then anointing her skin with a bathsplash she didn’t remember using after sessions here. Its light, unfamiliar scent bemused her, and she clung to the distraction as she dried off and put her shoes on.

But as she walked back upstairs and out toward the back of the mansion, the strangeness of the scent reminded her of how uncertain her life was.

she came to the vestibule that opened to the back courtyard and looked out through the glass doors. Mistress’ trainer was preparing a bikinied bodyguard to go outside and tool stood apart from them, tearing her eyes from the sight of the strong young woman going slack as the trainer rubbed her temples and murmured deepeners.

Mistress had had a new garage built as part of the newer wing where Her quarters were, and turned the old carriage house into a gym for Her guards. It wasn’t a barracks: when julianna and her girls did sleep, they slept in the house, their bodies between Her and hazard.

Today, with the rest slinking through the woods or patrolling the house, julianna had three of them outside, stretching against the wall while she sat on the weight bench they’d carried out at her command. tool watched, trying to draw out the last few seconds in measured breaths and trying to be angry with herself when her fear and excitement shortened her breath.

she couldn’t ignore the low instructions the trainer was murmuring into the guard’s mind. “you are strong and warm. your obedience keeps you warm and alert; the cold kisses you and makes you happy to be warm. you are a strong warrior and your mind is asleep. my voice and your Mistress’ voice are one in your sleeping mind. you will obey and be warm.”

tool envied the guard in her simple obedience, in the gentle way the trainer handled her pliant mind. she saw the trainer dart her a glance, and straightened, staring back with Mistress’ eyes. The trainer was doing well but tool had not been told to praise her, and she let the woman turn back to the sleepy-eyed guard without responding.

“Awaken.” The guard stood straight and reflexively reached for the knife strapped to her thigh, the pistol and stungun on her belt, the throat mike at her collar.

“i serve,” she whispered in a high voice that belied her muscular frame. her accent dropped the r in serve, and tool realized that she used to know what that meant about where the girl was from. But neither of them remembered such things anymore: Mistress didn’t need them to.

The girl went to the door and opened it. The trainer wrapped her robe tighter and stepped back, and tool envied the guard the hypnotic proofing against the cold as she went forward and followed her out.

she didn’t look at the girl as the girl held the door, and after a moment tool didn’t even really feel the cold on her skin. the pit of her stomach was colder.

she strode across the gravel of the courtyard as though she had no fear of julianna at all.

5.

julianna stood over the bench, looking at tool as she approached, ignoring for the moment the younger woman who lay back, pressing the barbell.

tool watched the other woman—sherri, one of julianna’s guards. she held the weights up and stared past them, pausing in her lift, and tool watched her arms start to quiver, almost imperceptibly. julianna might have been instructing her but left her in mid-rep to leer at tool.

sherri’s face was starting to twitch, and tool knew she was afraid—not of dropping the bar on herself, but of failing julianna’s training if she did.

“Back,” julianna said, and sherri gracefully set the bar back into the mounts. she came upright, gazing up at julianna and slowing her breathing. Without looking away from tool, julianna reached her hand back and sherri leaned forward like a dog to nuzzle it. “you’re doing even better, sherri. Go stretch with lisa for a while.

“What does Mistress wish?” julianna asked, staring at tool now.

tool swallowed. i must obey. “She Whom we worship is pleased at your devotion to Her.” she looked at the webbed furrow under julianna’s ribcage, the scar where one of the bullets had struck her.

she looked up in time to see the fervor in julianna’s eyes as the other slave said, “my life is Hers and it was a pleasure to offer it to Her.” tool shook as she felt it, knew how very real the words were.

But the shared moment was gone before julianna’s lips had closed.

“She knows this and owns you completely. But She will bestow pleasure on Her faithful slavegirl.” tool saw the smile on julianna’s face. Mistress let Her slaves fuck each other and themselves—in the end, for a woman She’d brainwashed, it only increased the need it seemed to satisfy—so julianna knew this would be something more unusual.

“Come with me.” she turned and walked briskly to the house, realizing that in the deadly fascination of julianna she hadn’t even remembered, until turning away now, how cold she was.

As she put her feet in front of each other, she knew julianna was watching her ass.

she thought about how cold julianna’s skin would feel.

she heard julianna give orders to sherri and her other girls before following tool through the glass doors back into the mansion. Off the gravel, tool’s heels clipped loudly down the stone floor of the corridor, and julianna’s boots were a lower-pitched echo.

tool stepped into the room and saw the bed, the rack and slings, the implements. Other slaves had prepared it and she wondered whether they’d been too deep in trance to know what it was for, or if any of them knew what she’d have to do in here. They might.

For a heartbeat or two tool was deeply, miserably afraid of what they might have done. Then she thought about Mistress’ voice and Her eyes, hypnotizing her, and offered her fear to her Owner, too.

i must obey.

julianna followed her in and she stepped back around the other slave, ignoring her curious look to close and lock the door and then go to the clock on the mantel, setting the paired alarms.

As she pulled her hands back, tool realized that there were no further steps now. The next commands she obeyed would be . . .

she found it inside her to stand before julianna, close enough to smell the sweetness of the other slave’s warming skin, and stare up into her eyes. Those eyes were starting to gleam with realization as julianna was registering her fear and eager to know its cause.

“Mistress has given me to you, to use for your pleasure.” tool was proud to say it without hesitating. “She prepared your mind for this. your normal inhibitions against touching me and your normal compulsions to obey me will be suspended.”

she swallowed, and julianna smiled. she couldn’t speak for a moment, and julianna smiled more deeply. she tried to resume and now her voice did fail her, and julianna licked her lips.

tool’s nipples went taut.

julianna licked her lips again.

“When the chime sounds, the blocks will be disabled and you will be free to—act.

“When it sounds again they will reengage and you will obey them again.”

tool fought to keep the pleading whine out of her voice. “i will be at your disposal. Mistress has programmed me . . . as She saw fit.” she swallowed but her mouth was dry oh god i’ll need to be moist there for her

“If—” she almost choked on the next part, and wondered how long she had before the chime freed julianna to move, not capable of trying to think what that move would be. “If you desire deeper obedience from me, tell me . . .” she hesitated . . . “bitchflesh obeys and i . . .” she did choke now. “i will be completely unable to resist—anything.”

julianna’s gaze bored into her over that smile.

“Please . . . enjoy . . . Her gift.” tool saw that draw a final quirk at the side of julianna’s mouth.

The chime sounded.

they stared at each other in the silence that followed. tool started to think about how strong julianna must be to be able to keep still even after she was freed from her posthypnotic bonds, but then her mind just emptied.

she wanted to scream What? What are you going to—?

her mind stayed empty. she didn’t want to know, but she had to.

julianna closed her eyes.

Opened them.

There was a pain under tool’s heart and she couldn’t breathe, and she was already toppling to the floor when she made sense of julianna’s stance and look, saw the flattened fist that had just knocked the wind out of her.

julianna had hit her very hard.

The floor did more as tool dropped to the hardwood, the punch having scrambled her nerves. she let the pain and the cell-level fight to breathe again block out this is for julianna’s pleasure she can fuck her amazons and if she’s good maybe Mistress too but what she wants me for isn’t fucking but . . .

Please, Mistress. Whatever she does to me, make me serve well. As i obey her, i obey You.

julianna’s boots made competent sounds as she came to stand astride tool. she was still smiling, and seen from this angle it was even less human than before.

tool thought briefly about bitchflesh down in the lab, the slave being brainwashed into becoming—another tool.

Mistress might not, in fact, care for another tool. She might not plan on adding a new one.

Just replacing Her current one.

tool looked up and wondered how long it would take if julianna didn’t lose control, and was able to do everything to tool that she must have dreamed of doing.

6.

julianna loomed over her and then sank to squat beside her.

her hand went to tool’s hair. tool managed to suppress the scream.

The touch was gentle. “i know what you’re thinking. Or worrying. i like that.

“i don’t know where ellen is now, or if she’s still ‘ellen.’ Whoever bought her might not have given her a name. i don’t suppose she thinks or worries much now, so you can worry for the both of you.” julianna looked up at the clock and then down. she was still smiling.

“Of course i’ll fuck you, tool. There’s time, and you’re still pretty. So i’d probably better do that first.”

tool lay still.

“That’s just not all i’m going to do. But you knew that.”

julianna’s voice roughened slightly as she stared down. “If i’d been given time, i could have worked with ellen. Intensified her training. she could have been doing so much better, before Mistress needed to notice her. she could have learned to be one of my best—one of Her best. she could.” her voice steadied. “i know it.”

tool thought about ellen, remembered waking up sometimes seeing her walk out to the van, blank and mindless. she’d imagined julianna waking from sleeptime later and finding ellen gone. If i’d been given time.

julianna closed her eyes, and smiled again when she opened them.

“Undress me.” julianna stood, and tool crawled up to kneel and then stand, riveted on julianna’s impassive face, seeking cues and finding none. As she worked the bra off, she pressed against julianna’s powerful body, its cold and tension making the other slave seem like smooth stone. Sensing julianna wanted her to stay close, tool tried to toss the top onto a nearby table in a respectful way. julianna didn’t hit her again, and she knelt to pull down the bikini bottom.

Seeing and smelling julianna’s cunt made her head swim, and she leaned inward with her eyes half-closed until julianna’s knee shoved her away. “When you’re told to.”

tool finished pulling the wisp of elastic fabric down julianna’s long, strong legs and waited as the other slave stepped out of them. she tossed the bottom away and stayed on her knees, looking up at julianna.

she saw julianna’s lips purse and realized she might be about to say Worship, but they both realized only Mistress could receive that.

“Lick.”

Now tool bent smoothly and found her way between the taut roundnesses of the other slave’s thighs. she put her nose and mouth to the tang of her cleft, closing her eyes and able to put her fear aside for a few flicks of her tongue.

julianna tasted different from the other slave (the other tool) and she savored it. Part of her knew she was trying to buy favor, the animal in her desperate to seem happy to be julianna’s slut so julianna might . . . not . . .

It didn’t matter. It was good to serve the other slave this way. Mistress willed it, julianna had saved Mistress and kept them all from losing Her domination—and tool was a slut anyway.

“Stop.”

The word and tone reminded tool of the chambermaids she’d frightened before, and she wondered if they’d enjoy seeing turnabout. she wondered why this wasn’t public, with half the household watching her being used.

Maybe she’d survive this, and Mistress didn’t want her status to suffer.

Horseshit. she had no status. Mistress used and discarded bedsheets, drinking glasses, dildos, and She had taught tool how inferior to those valuable things tool herself was.

god

Maybe—m-maybe . . .

julianna slapped her, and she stopped thinking. A tug at her hair brought her back to her feet, and she was staring at julianna’s long, wise face. her eyes, level and cold.

“Yes, that’s right, tool. Look into my eyes and obey me. Please me by obeying me by letting me hypnotize you.”

tool shook, and moved under the grip julianna still had on her hair. It felt as though julianna had subjected her to a controlling scalp massage.

“Relax and submit, little tool. Mistress’ obedient tool. Mindless tool . . .”

she wanted to please julianna, and she had to obey, and her will was gone, her mind so weak now as they all were. There was the promise of being too deeply under to feel it.

But she knew julianna saw too clearly to miss that, and hated her too much to allow it.

“Obey me, tool. Obey now and submit.” So beautiful. So strong . . .

Another slap roused her. Its sting was still warming her cheek when she found her mouth opening to a harsh, deep kiss.

Then julianna just—started. Dimly, tool knew julianna wasn’t using any of the toys on her, but that was in flashes as the other slave threw her from floor to bed to rack, fucking her and hitting her.

. . . It felt at moments as though tool were being mauled by an animal but other moments showed her julianna’s eyes, bright and aware as she watched tool cry out or gasp or moan through another intoxicating faceful of pussy.

tool didn’t even know if she were supine on the bed or the floor when she realized she was looking up at the ceiling and feeling teeth on either side of her windpipe, a hand halfway into her pussy, hurt and arousal too tightly bound to tell apart.

The hand attacked her first, and arousal spiked. she fainted.

7.

she came to on her knees, bowed down nearly to the floor with julianna’s groin warm and damp against her forehead. she stirred.

A hand at her neck kept her there. “Wait. you need a few moments more.” The hand felt gentle.

“i don’t want you to faint now.” It was just in time to keep tool from weeping at what sounded kind.

When julianna wanted her to rise, she lifted her by the hair again. tool rose, staring ahead in shock. she wasn’t numb but she felt terribly tired, and she was afraid that it was going to be a very painful way to go yet before she could die. she’d never sleep again . . .

But for a moment, the weariness felt almost like being hypnotized, blank and passive. So short a distance between being ready to surrender, and being eager to.

Command me, julianna. i will obey. Obey . . .

Please.

When julianna spoke again she turned like a robot and listlessly looked at the bondage frame, stepping to it and seeing the assembly she was to hang from, and she started to wake from the half-trance, knowing what was going to happen, if not how.

“Take hold of it,” julianna said, and tool grasped a pair of handles. she waited for julianna to step close and secure her wrists to it, but julianna stepped away and suddenly the assembly slid upward as pulleys drew it, and tool, up into the frame. she glimpsed herself in one of the mirrors, slim and pendant like a diver about to knife feetfirst into the water.

julianna cuffed her ankles with the assurance of many captures, and looped something through the chain that she reached up and ran through the D-ring on the front of tool’s collar. tool felt the tug as her feet were drawn up toward her ass, and spread her knees so that she was almost sitting crosslegged in midair. Mistress liked suspending slaves this way and the position was automatic for most of them, leaving pussy and asshole equally open and vulnerable.

tool hoped she didn’t let go. Falling on her tailbone wouldn’t even please julianna with the pain.

she heard something slide across the hardwood beneath her, but kept her eyes up, watching her hands, getting used to the weight on her neck as the collar held her feet up.

Then julianna’s hands were under her thighs, and her helplessness made tool juice. Smelling it or feeling it drip to her fingers, julianna laughed softly. her grip tightened and she was lifting tool so she could lean and look down at what was below her, without losing purchase on the handles.

julianna let her look. For a moment all tool saw were the concentric circles of gleaming metal on the floor directly beneath her. A minor body motion or a slight movement from julianna let her shift enough to gain perspective, and with depth, she saw the innermost one wasn’t just a circle.

It was a spike.

she made no sound, but her body flinched and julianna chuckled, very carefully letting her hang again by her own hands and stepping away.

Over it. tool began imagining how long it was, how far into her it would go if she

oh god let go

In the rush of terror she almost did.

“It’s positioned perfectly. you could thrash before you fell, but missing might be even . . . mmm, worse. It’ll go right up and in, and with your mass and height . . .” she let tool see it in her mind.

“What i’ll have to let you decide is whether it’s sharp enough to punch through all the tissues cleanly, or dull, which means some tearing. Usually that’s more of an issue when the victim’s lowered slowly and their weight pushes them onto it.

“Dropping you may mean it wouldn’t make a difference.” julianna’s voice was getting flatter instead of more excited.

“But unless you’re a lot shorter than you look, tool, you’ll last long enough on it to tell me about it.

“And as you sit there on it, you’ll be able to lick me again. When i get tired of hearing you.”

8.

tool’s visible world had contracted to the hanging assembly she clung to. she shut her eyes and opened them again, but either way she saw the spike, more real than the bondage gear she was looking at. When her hands tired, the assembly wouldn’t matter. Only the evil steel she’d impale herself on would matter.

It wouldn’t even be relief. When it hurt too much to hang on—then it would hurt so much more.

her thoughts were obvious but even so julianna’s voice seemed to be inside her head. “Maybe you know how long you can hold on.” It came from everywhere, as julianna paced around her.

“i could tell you something different. How weak and tired you’re becoming . . . how numb and distant your hands feel . . . how loose your fingers are getting with each beat of your heart, and how fast is your poor little ticker going now, tool?”

A gasp escaped tool as she felt herself believing each of julianna’s quiet suggestions, none of them enough to make her let go, but each of them stealing another bit of the sliver of time she still had left before she . . .

“Or,” julianna said, in front of her now, low and intense as though speaking across a pillow, “i could just send you to sleep. you’d wake up on it. you’d feel it from the inside, out, instead.”

tool closed her eyes. she could sense julianna was done waiting, and as she realized it was time, she was wretched with wondering how she’d let Mistress down, if she’d let herself become boring or . . .

But to her horror, even the thought of Mistress was fading in her mind behind the darkly shining shape of the spike, waiting for her down there.

“None of the above. i think i’ll just tell you.

“Let go, tool.

“Fall on it now.”

tool’s mind froze up and she felt her screaming muscles go rigid. she had to obey couldn’t obey had to hold on had to she was spasming in a second it wouldn’t matter she’d fall she’d feel she’d . . . no no no

“Self-preservation. All right. It may buy you some seconds . . . i think your hands are sweating and they’ll start to slip even if the muscles hold. Too late to help you anyway. It wouldn’t even wake up in your mind if She told you to die like this.

“But now She can. Listen carefully: bitchflesh obeys.

“Now let go, you little whore.”

tool was suddenly still. It was time, and she wanted to cry now because Mistress was in her mind at last, brighter and sharper than any cruel steel thing. Still alive and dominant because julianna had risked her life to save Her. Beautiful . . .

For that, yes. julianna could have what she wanted.

Mistress lived. Mistress.

To die for. Yes. Forever.

bitchflesh obeyed. she let go.

9.

When the coldness kissed her crotch she was too paralyzed to scream and she felt her thighs tighten. she felt weightless and her chest hurt.

she waited for the pain.

Something flashed out from between her legs and she gazed at it, wondering if she bled that quickly, and it was happening too fast to hurt, was she already dying? Faster than julianna wanted to see?

i’m sorry, julianna.

But it wasn’t blood but julianna’s booted leg, thrust between tool’s to help take the weight as julianna . . .

. . . caught her.

they were on the floor. tool made sense of feelings now: the muscled arms wrapped tightly around her, the chin in the hollow of her neck, the still-cold solidity of julianna’s thigh as she straddled it.

she saw the spike on its pedestal, overturned with its point to the floor, rolling unevenly where julianna had kicked it, to get it away from tool.

The second chime sounded, and julianna let her down onto the hardwood.

she fainted again.

she was still on the floor when she came around, and flinched before realizing the unfamiliar feeling was just that her ankles were unbound. she couldn’t move and didn’t try, all the tension replaced by the feeling that she couldn’t tense a single part of herself. she was completely spent.

With no idea how she felt about julianna now, she didn’t know what drew her to try rolling to see where the other slave was. But she did, and her first random glance found julianna on her knees.

Mistress stood in the room, looking down at them.

She smiled at julianna. “Did you enjoy your present, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank You for Your great generosity.”

tool struggled to sit up, at least to find her way to her knees where she belonged in Her presence. Mistress seemed to wait to acknowledge her existence until she could find the right posture.

she knelt at last, drifting down into a kowtow, just able to keep her head from cracking onto the wood but unable for a moment to pull back upright.

When she did rise, Mistress was still talking quietly with julianna.

“Yes, my Mistress. But You were so generous—i needed to be worthy. Your toys and tools are not for Your slavegirl to spoil for You.”

“That’s sweet, slave. You please Me.” Mistress chuckled as She watched julianna squirm in delight.

The slave found her voice again. “After You had her give up that final trigger to me . . . i didn’t expect her to be that controlled. That obedient.

“It was so much different than training girls to guard You.”

“What trigger, slave?”

Now tool had come erect and gazed up at her Owner. she was able to see julianna look up in mild confusion. “The one . . .’bitchflesh . . .’” she glanced at tool, who looked back. “The special deepener, Mistress.”

Mistress turned to tool, smiling for a moment but then looking very thoughtful.

“That,” She said, “was not Mine.”

She stepped to where tool knelt, putting out a fingertip to raise tool’s chin and look into her eyes. “slave julianna pleased Me.

“you—have surprised Me.” She stared into tool. “I’m glad she didn’t let you die, after all.” She brushed tool’s cheek and then She was gone.

tool waited, her head spinning from Mistress’ touch and nearness and the painful joy of having pleased Her. Of having helped slave julianna please Her.

Of not writhing around polished metal she’d buttfucked herself onto, waiting to bleed to death.

she turned to meet julianna’s eyes, and saw something different there.

“you saved Her,” she whispered. “For you, it was . . .”

julianna nodded. she started to rise, then just crawled efficiently over to kneel again beside tool.

julianna stared at tool as though seeing her for the first time. “you do worship Her,” she said, whispering too. tool nodded, then frowned as the room started to lean.

julianna’s arms were around her before she fell, and her head rested on the other slave’s shoulder. “i think She’s sent for a nurse,” julianna said. tool nodded against her and relaxed.

she was ready to sleep for a while. she thought of telling julianna about ellen, now that there was no question of false remorse.

But not now. she went limp and let julianna hold her, waiting for Mistress’ nurse to come.

she was starting to fall asleep when it felt as though lips touched her hair. she wondered if she were dreaming.

she would ask, sometime. she closed her eyes.