The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

German Slaves

Part 3

Author’s Note:

The 3rd part of the story is told from Tim’s point of view as his ex girlfriend’s slave. We learn from his eyes what had been happening to him and his German-American Viking brothers in “mind control” servitude to their Brunette owners.

Story:

Hello my name is Tim and what I am about to tell you is a story of sadness and despair.

About a week ago, me and my brothers Patrick, Albert and Sasha had become slaves to our bitch ex girlfriends. We spent more time in ouir Mistresses’ place than our own. In college, we had to carry their girlfriends’ bags while our Mistresses walked in front of them, chatting away about other people.

Because we spent more time with our Mistresses than our own gym coaches, our coaches told us that they were taking us off the list, forever ruining our chances of becoming future athletes.

Our mistresses were still kind enough to let us attend college, and of course our classes, only so that our lecturers don’t start sending letters to our parents about how often we attend our classes or how high our absentee rate was.

In cafes they always made us carry their food tray for them, making us give them foot massages for sometimes up to 3 hours and suck on their toes in front of “other students”, especially those who hated our Mistresses, while they all sat down by the hills within college property.

“I thought they broke up with them???” muttered a senior I knew.

“Maybe they lost a bet or something and so had to become their slaves,” muttered a student who probably was a Filipino exchange student.

“It is true. They are witches and those poor jocks are under their spell,” muttered a nerdy Irish-American student with specs.

Apart from college, we always followed our Mistresses shopping and our Mistresses spent far too much money and the four of us always carried the shopping bags.

At night the four of us would always be at one Mistress’ house. While our Mistresses ate by a table, we ate on the floor, naked, on all fours like pet dogs and always ate from a dog bowl.

After dinner we had to lick our Mistress’s clitoris. To them we were nothing but dogs-bdsm slaves to do with as they wished. When our Mistresses cum, we had to use our Blond hair to clean off the cum stains between their legs but never mind the cum stains on our own Blond hair or on our Nordic jaws.

As I continued lapping at Mistress…Nita’s cunt, I was deep into my thoughts.

Hitler was wrong. The Blond German men are not superior. The Brunette Persian women are superior. They own us, I told myself.

One night I remember when my brother Patrick was made to lie down on the living room floor, while opening his mouth so that his ex girlfriend/mistress Soraya could piss into his mouth, just in front of us. While the Persian girls laughed about it, I could see in Patrick’s face that all this was hurting him ie physically but more mentally.

I could also see that Sasha and Albert hated what was being done to Patrick. How could do they do this to us?? We all used to be boyfriends and girlfriends and don’t people remember old times’ sakes. Don’t these girls know we have feelings too.

The night after that we were all in Mistress Shermane’s place, forced to watch a World War II movie where the Allies beat Germany and our Mistresses laughed at us, calling us all ‘losers’ and that Persians invented everything.

Then when the movie was over, the four of us (me including Sasha, Patrick and Albert) had to stand up naked, stroking each other’s cock and our Mistresses would taunt us with hurtful questions:

“Who is the superior Aryan?” asked Mistress Shermane towards us.

“The Persian woman,” we answered in unison.

“Why do Blond men exist?” asked Mistress Jazmin.

“To serve Brunette women,” we answered in unison.

“Say ten good things about us?” asked my Mistress (Nita).

“You can discuss amongst yourselves and then answer,” offered Jazmin.

We discussed amongst ourselves the things that we all knew to say until we heard my Mistress shouting at us.

“Hurry up,” she screamed.

“That you are kind. You are beautiful. You invented everything. You created the first empire. You created writing. You were the first civilization. You are superior to everyone else. You invented democracy. You are smart and everyone would be stupid to mess with you,” we answered very very quickly.

“Now say ten bad things about yourselves and about Germans,” asked Mistress Soraya.

We discussed amongst ourselves until we heard the Mistresses telling us our time is up.

“That we are barbarians. That we are dirty. That we had no civilization till the Persians came. That we eat dog food. That we are dumb. That we are slow. That we are slaves. That we are inferior. That we lost World War Two. That we have been beaten by Persians,” we answered in unison.

Our Mistresses laughed in unison.

Another night we were all lying naked on the floor while our Mistresses were sat in front of the television, while eating food off us, like those Japanese women in sushi restaurants.

One Friday afternoon, our Mistresses took us all to tattoo parlours to get tattooed. The owner was a Persian American Goth who was a close friend of Nita’s and the other girls’ and also hated Bush and the Pentagon.

Once all of four of us Germanic men were tattooed, our Mistresses forced us to display ourselves for their enjoyment.

On each of our necks were the initials of our Mistresses.

For Patrick, his front body said “Persian Property” and he had two nipple rings that had been attached together with a silver chain.

For Albert, his entire back had been tattooed with the map of Iran. Albert’s right ass cheek had the American flag and his left one had the Iranian flag. But the top of his butt hole had a small swastika on it.

For Sasha, the words “FUCK ME” was tattooed above his ass cheek But in both his back as well as his front chest and tummy, were “Persian writings” that only our Mistresses understood.

As for me, my 6-packed tummy had the words imprinted “I Belong 2 Mistress Nita” in Old Roman English writing. As for my back, I had the words “Every Persian woman should own a German man”.

* * *

4 Weeks Later

One Fine Night

I was alone with my Mistress in her living room. She was watching a film and I was kneeling in front of her, giving her foot massage. The movie she was watching was Breaking Dawn, the fourth Twilight movie. My Mistress was watching the movie but I could see that she was upset.

This last 2 weeks she did not give me much order but still allowed me to eat food whenever I felt hungry as she had no time for me but that I had to be at her home by 7PM. I have not seen any of my friends and their Mistresses but at night she would tie me up and have BDSM sex with me and bite me very often. Sometimes early morning while we are asleep, she would be having strange dreams where she would be beating me up and I had to wake her. when she woke up she was always crying and surprisingly apologizing to me and always kissing me, telling me to go back to sleep whole hugging me.

“Mistress are you ok???” I dared to ask.

Mistress Nita looked down on me and gave me an angry look.

“You are funny you know that,” Nita chuckled but in a bitter tone.

“Mistress I don’t know anything…” I said.

“Of course you don’t you silly boy. But I am sure you have noticed that I have been crying a lot lately,” Nita said.

She then started crying.

“A friend of mine died. She is never coming back,” Nita cried with tears flowing down her brown eyes.

“I am really sorry to hear that…Mistress,” I said in a soft tone (feeling sorry for her now).

“Please give me a hug,” Mistress Nita begged.

I got up from the floor.

“There. There…Mistress,” I comforted her.

“Tim you can stop calling me Mistress. Right now I just want to act like my boyfriend not my slave. Ok sweetheart,” Nita hugged me back.

We went to her bedroom and we talked about everything that happened. Her friend died and she was upset about it. She wanted me to come with her to the funeral.

A WEEK AFTER THE FUNERAL

Nita and I were in her bedroom. She made me lie my head down on her lap on her bed. She was playing with my hair. Before and after the funeral she became more kind to me and let me eat in the table with her. She did all the cooking but we never hung out with her sisters or my brothers.

“Tim honey I want to ask you a question?” she asked.

“Ok sure,” I responded.

“I know you and I broke up. I knew that I had been treating you badly and been acting like a spoiled bitch but I just want you to know that I didn’t enjoy humiliating you. Even when you broke up with me I still loved you and I was hoping that night you broke up with me was just one big bad joke or bad dream. I mean you know I love you right. I always tell you I was going to make you fuck a dog but no really I was just blabbing. My question is that even when you broke up with me then, did you still love me?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Look if you stopped loving me, that’s ok. I don’t want to force you into anything. Please tell me the truth. I just want to hear it,” she said.

“Well a part of me did,” I said.

“I want you to know that I love you. I mean why do you think I tattooed you as my property. I am a selfish bitch who wants you all for herself. All my sisters want your brothers for themselves,” she told me.

She then pressed her lips against mine, kissing me.

“I am sorry that I hurt you. I know I hurt you with all those comments about Iran and Germany. I only wanted to make you feel like shit because I thought I was losing you and so wanted you to feel the same way,” she told me.

“Well I did care for you but a part of me still does care for you,” I said.

“Oh my God. I hope this is not Stockholm Syndrome. Well fuck it if it is. At least I still have you. Sweetie I change my mind about our relationship,” she said.

Was she going to set me free, I thought.

“I am sorry to tell you that I am not going to let you go. I still want you to obey me but I won’t treat you like dirt anymore. You can say what you want to me. I mean if you want to have a go at me or slap me in the face just tell me,” she said.

“No. No I have no intention of doing that,” I lied.

“Liar. I still love you my German liar. I still believe that a Persian woman should have a German man. I just believe that Blond men and Brunette women are good together, just like they were in ancient Rome and Ireland and Russia. Can we kiss and make up. Get back together again,” Nita smiled.

“I really don’t know what to say,” I said.

“I know you love me and I love you. please give me a second chance,” she smiled.

I looked at her.

“Please. I even bought us two tickets to go to Paris,” she said.

“You bought us plane tickets?” I was surprised.

“Yup. We can stay at my cousin’s place. I just wanted to be alone but with someone special to me. What do you say,” she smiled.

“Sure,” I smiled.

“So this means you are getting back with me?” she asked.

A part of me did love her and if she wasn’t in love with me she wouldn’t have put me under Mind Control in the first place.

She really wants me.

“Nita I still love you. Ok let’s give it a second go,” I said.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Nita was excited.

She pressed her lips against mine while my head still rested on her lap.

“But I am not setting you free. We are a couple again but I still want to have the final say. I love you and I know you don’t fully believe that. From now on I’ll take care of you. I will let you have most of your freedom but you are not allowed to break up with me or run away from me again. If you are angry with me just tell me,” she was serious.

Well this offer was better than BDSM slavery.

“So will I still be use for BDSM,” I asked.

“Only if you want it too. Look if you want to tie me up I am ok with that too,” she said.

I got off her lap and sat down by her bed.

I thought about Sasha and Patrick and Albert whom I haven’t heard from in a long time. I cared about them and wanted to know what happened to them.

“Nita what happened to Albert and the others?” I asked.

Nita gave me a loving and sad look.

“Well Shermane, Soraya and Jazmin still own them. Look I know you love them but please for our sake, forget them. Look I am giving you some freedom. If you think about them that would only make you more upset. I can’t ask my sisters to set them free. That would put me in a bad position,” Nita said.

She put a hand on hair, fondling it.

“Sweetheart please think about us and forget them. You know maybe one day we will get married and I want to have children with you but they are just your buddies that you are not going to spend the rest of your life with,” Niat trie consoling me.

I was never going to see my Viking brothers again.

What is going to happen to my German American brothers? Are they going to be slaves for the rest of their lives? I can’t help but think about them.

* * *