The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

1.

When the moment came that Susan had been dreading, she kept her eyes open, facing it as forthrightly as an amazon should.

Earth slid into view on the panoramic viewscreen as Queen Kysa Herself brought Sorceress onto final approach. Susan’s homeworld was a perfect disk reflecting the glare of the Sun behind them, as Kysa kept them dead center before biasing over to find the entry window. Earth was so helpless, so unaware, so ready to be taken.

The dread vanished. Susan looked at Earth and stopped feeling anything that a warrior of Venus, a willing slave of Venus’ Queen, should not feel. My will is nothing. Queen Kysa’s will is All. Venus is Hers. Earth will be.

This was only a slave raid, but for Susan, everything belonged to her Queen already.

Susan’s Venerian lover and battle-companion Parriel moved beside her in the seat they shared, but for this moment Susan didn’t even seek comfort in her touch. She stared at the planet that had given her birth and life. I am not yours.

I am Kysa’s now, a Queen’s warrior, and do Her will. We will pluck your blossoms, Mother Earth. My Queen will savor your fruit as She takes it from my hand.

Somehow Parriel felt it, and she felt Parriel’s lips on her ear. She knew it moved and excited her lover to know the depth of the former Earthling’s devotion to their Queen.

“They all admire you,” Parriel murmured. “You are as much Hers as any Venus-born girl.”

Susan said nothing. In the darkened compartment behind Queen Kysa’s command dais, the cadre of Her warriors sat waiting, like their sisters in the larger bay a deck below. Even if Susan had cared to look around, their faces and their startling gold-irised eyes would have been invisible in the faint light of the flight stations around them, and the alien glare of Earth. That diminished as Kysa’s course put more of the shadowed nightside across the screen.

She wondered what they really thought of her.

She’d come to them as one of a crew of intrepid Earth scientists seeking knowledge in the first human landing on Venus, surprised by peaceful contact with the matriarchal humanoid civilization they’d never known was there under the golden clouds. The Earthlings wondered, with less and less urgency each day, where the males were, and one of their own male-creatures kept whining about “purdah” and veils.

The Queen Herself had chosen Susan, and relentlessly seduced her—with sex, and Her riveting presence, and finally with hypnosis Susan by then had no desire to resist. Her Supremacy’s subjects dealt with the other Earthlings, whom Susan was only intermittently remembering to think about.

It hadn’t taken long.

By the time the Earth-malescum had vanished as utterly as the Venerian ones, Susan had been too rapt in the wonder of Queen Kysa to care. She could only recall slick embraces, Her Supremacy’s cool, sinewy touch owning her, sharing of their hearts and cultures . . . well, she could remember sharing her own knowledge, anyway. She’d answered ceaseless soft questions as she stared into the blinking light of a recording machine, going without sleep to satisfy the Queen’s majestic curiosity.

Susan roused herself. In the hush of the ship, that reverie kept claiming her. As she looked up at Kysa in Her seat, she recalled those truth-draining sessions. The Queen hadn’t actually attended them all: Susan could remember being silenced from time to time and led to Her bedchamber, to kneel and taste Her flavor.

At the memory she hissed in her breath and tensed against Parriel, who rested her head on Susan’s but did no more. It didn’t matter: Susan was hot with just the thought of the submissive fervor that had refilled her, with each lick of Her syrup. Each time they’d led Susan back to resume recording, the taste of the Queen on her lips kept her talking for hours more.

Of course, even if she was a special pet of the Queen, Susan was still an alien in the golden eyes of many of Her amazons.

Back there in the shadows of Sorceress’ main compartment was Ylan, who’d been a Queen’s favorite before the Earth ship had landed and given the Queen new horizons to conquer, new women to mesmerize and use. Ylan never defied Her directly, of course, but she readily scorned Susan herself as not only an unworthy Earthling but a traitor to her whole unworthy species.

“You might be fit for fucking after battle,” Ylan had told Susan once, with passionless intensity. “Giving tongue-baths to real warriors, after the mindbenders dimmed your wits and locked your lusts into what was left. I might even deign to use you, for a while.

“But not to keep you. Treacherous bitch from a male-tainted planet. My nether lips deserve better.”

Susan could have asked, Better than the Queen’s deserve? I worship Her lips at Her command. But she truly did worship Kysa—too much so to invoke Her in a quarrel between Her warriors.

Still, even knowing the Queen’s favor, even living in a constant erotic trance at just the thought of Her sun-colored gaze or Her touch, Susan had been chilled by the other amazon’s simple hatred. Ylan wasn’t alone, either. Others chosen for the Earth raid, back there now in their battle-pairs, also resented the alien woman who graced their Queen’s bed with her exotic juices and her odd mating sounds.

It didn’t matter that after she’d succumbed to Kysa’s control, she’d helped them use the expedition ship to jumpstart their own space program. They were happy enough to ride this ship she’d helped them design and build, to abduct more Earth females to enslave—perhaps the first of a fleet that might conquer Earth itself. But some still thought she should just have been brainwashed after that, drained of her technical knowledge, and turned into a sex-drone.

Susan didn’t care, really. It was Kysa whose pleasure she lived for. If Her Queen willed it, she’d let them tear her apart, or chain her to a pickaxe in the royal mines. In any event, she was still Kysa’s favorite, a year after the “lost” human expedition to Venus had fallen into Her hands: the Queen valued her.

Susan asked herself how much of her worship of Kysa was love, and how much was just the hypnotic conditioning she could sometimes remember. But, as always, Susan thought of Her depthless eyes and compelling voice.

She knew that Venus, and her Queen, were the only answers she would ever need.

2.

There was Parriel, too. Even though she’d been one of Ylan’s trainees as a younger amazon, Parriel admired Susan, and loved her for her luck in catching the Queen’s fancy and her worth in keeping it. Others like Parriel had made Susan welcome among the Queen’s devoted subjects, but even before Kysa paired her with Susan, Parriel did more. Something in the pretty Earth exile seemed to call to a deeper part of her, and Parriel’s response was love.

Watching night cross North America, like a sheet drawn back from a sleeping maiden, reminded Susan of their mission. She leaned into Parriel’s body, moaning softly. There was no time to fuck, now, and not even the deep arousal diverted her from the greater need to stay strong and alert for Her Supremacy. But just to think of what lay ahead . . .

Her old school, Santa Perdida, in a high remote meadow in Colorado, would be stirring soon, full of supple young women just starting their day. They would be put back into a deeper and more obedient sleep when Sorceress swept down over them and began emitting the Siren’s Cry. Some would never awaken.

Others hadn’t. Kysa’s conditioning had numbed most of Susan’s earlier memories, but she thought about the other Earthling females with whom she’d flown to Venus. Venus had had its way with them while Susan had been falling under the Queen’s erotic thrall.

Serena, the navigator, had been seduced and exhilarated by the physicality of the hardbodied warriors that guarded them. She’d soon shared sweat and dueling practice, and then bruising sex, with one of the sentry-captains. Like Susan, she wore the Queen’s harness proudly now. Even Ylan and the others didn’t seem to mind her, and with her hazel eyes Serena passed for Venerian. More than that, she’d let the Venerian hypnotists neuter her will and erase her Earth memories. Both outside and within, she was unquestioningly loyal to Venus and obedient to the Queen.

Jessie had fought, demanding to see her male crewmates and trying to rouse Susan and Serena from their submission, until the amazons took her away. Susan hadn’t seen the voluptuous engineer again until midway through her own amazon training—finding Jessie’s face between her thighs during a barracks orgy. Jessie’s mouth was as skillful as her eyes were empty, and when Susan had recovered from the orgasm another warrior jerked Jessie’s leash, to be licked in turn. Susan had admired Jessie’s soft body and sleepy poise as she knelt to lick the stranger. Then she’d given her own mouth to Parriel, forgetting Jessie, as her shipmate had long since been trained to forget her.

Later, Ylan made a point of using Jessie, her eyes fixed on Susan as she’d thrust onto the brainwashed girl’s mouth. When Susan came, she’d tried to tell herself it was Parriel’s caress that brought her off. Not seeing Jessie’s blank arousal as she was fucked.

And Marin? Marin had refused. Somehow the First Officer had looked into Queen Kysa’s eyes and hadn’t gone to her knees or begged to serve. Susan had watched, already too enslaved by the Queen to feel more than a vague ache. Susan didn’t know if it was regret that she wasn’t as strong as Marin—or hunger to watch Her Supremacy hypnotize Marin into a fawning concubine. She listened as the First Officer had quietly asked to die, instead of submit.

Kysa had stared into Marin’s eyes and watched the Earthwoman tremble. But she hadn’t taken Marin’s will where she stood, or give her to the mindbenders. Instead she said, “Be it so. Send this brave one to the Goddesses. But be it gentle and quick for her, to show Them My regard.”

There had been nothing gentle about the final disposal of the male crew, after they were drained of what they knew of their own ship and Earth technology. But Susan no longer thought about the males except when her Queen bade her, and Kysa never put her through that without hypnotizing her first.

Soon, Susan knew, there would be more Earthling girls at Queen Kysa’s feet, helpless and ready to be converted into Her amazons—the suitable ones, anyway. Most would become mindless toys like Jessie. But even that service was an honor, for an alien female.

Would a few choose as had Marin?

Would the Queen leave anyone awake that long?

“Susan. Attend Me.”

Kysa’s soft command was still echoing through the compartment as Susan snapped to obey it, her thigh sliding along Parriel’s as she rose, feeling Parriel’s hand on her arm. She mounted the dais and knelt by the Queen’s chair.

“Ever yours, my Queen. I live to obey.”

The Queen rested her hand in the back of Susan’s neck. “Ever Mine, pretty one. We pass unseen through the detection web, just as you said. I acknowledge your submission to My will—you have given Me the run of your world.”

Susan looked up, her throat tightening. “Your Supremacy—it is Your world.”

Kysa looked deep into her eyes. “In time, slave, I will ride its length and breadth astride you.”

Susan blinked and realized she’d fallen into Her gaze, dreaming of the Queen’s bit in her mouth and Her spurs and whip on—

“Return to your place, My Susan. Prepare for descent and attack.”

Susan made it back to sit beside Parriel’s friendly warmth, and copied her movements as the compartment filled with the sound of amazons fitting the transparent mindshield helmets on. When Kysa threw the switch, the emitters in Sorceress’ hull would radiate the Siren signal, remaining on through their stay at the target. The ship itself was opaque to the Cry’s hypnotic effect, so the Queen, Her guard corps, and the flight crew would remain safe aboard. But outside, without the mindshield helmets, the warriors who went down the ramp would become as docile and obedient as their prey.

Without knowing why, Susan shivered as she felt the gravity shift. The odd dark feeling even tainted her admiration at how smoothly the Queen, so new to spaceflight, guided them down.

Again, Parriel sensed her mood, and looked at her through the two clear thicknesses of shielding. She put her hand to her own helmet’s speaker and stretched her lips to it, then held it to Susan’s. Susan smiled and mouthed a kiss in return.

As they dropped out of the sky, Parriel’s hand found hers.

3.

Sorceress loomed over them on its landing struts as Susan and Parriel stood at attention with the others. Susan held discipline and stared ahead toward the mountains, trying to see if the Siren’s Cry were visible here or whether she could hear it, but there was nothing.

But as she’d lined up with her section, she’d seen it was working: a scattered handful of early-morning runners and some girls on one of the playing fields stood listlessly, neither fleeing nor even trying to talk with each other. Inside the buildings were the rest of the prey, dazed into stillness and awaiting someone else’s voice to replace the thoughts and decisions they’d forgotten.

Some stood close to where Sorceress had landed. Already under the Cry’s mindbending spell, they’d been too stunned even to think of moving by the time they realized the Venerian ship was coming down. Susan shivered, wondered whether anyone had been standing under a strut, stripped of any desire to flee.

But she forgot that as she saw close-up how varied the Cry’s effects were, even among the few women in her field of view as she braced. One willowy blonde in a loose T-shirt and nylon shorts stood slackly, staring straight through Susan’s head. Her eyes focused somewhere else, without thought.

On the ground near her a girl with chiseled, angular West African features had been caught in the hypnotic field as she was stretching for her run, thighs spread and her feet together. She was stronger-willed—her face was expressionless but her eyes kept sliding closed and flipping open as she fought the lethargy in her mind. Or perhaps it just took a little longer for the Cry’s soothing frequencies to pull her mind into synch.

Even as Susan admired her, she saw the struggle end. The encoded commands resonated with the girl’s thoughts and replaced them. Her eyes stayed open, but she joined the blonde in sleep, letting the last of her will vanish.

The girls’ brief attire made Susan feel less chilled, standing in the Rocky Mountain air in nothing but the brief Venerian battle harness and boots. Most of her, like the other amazons, was bare to the light breeze.

“Section—helmet check.” Their section leader, a lithe amazon named Khri, strode past, watching each warrior’s eyes and hands as they obeyed. She stopped and peered at one.

“Section—pause.” They fell out, turning to look for whatever girl had the problem.

“It’s Tiya,” someone said. “Tiya heard the Cry. She’s hypnotized . . .”

The Venerian word they whispered connoted something different than Earthly hypnosis, but Susan could see what it meant.

One amazon stayed at attention, her eyes glazed but narrowing. She struggled, like the dark-skinned human schoolgirl, to keep thinking. Khri ordered her to surrender her weapon.

With only the slightest twitch, Tiya obeyed.

Susan gasped with the rest, as deeply indoctrinated as any of the Queen’s subjects. A warrior with free will would die before she gave up a weapon, edged or barreled, to anyone—even a superior—without the proper ritual. It was one of the oldest Venerian traditions. Weak-minded Earthlings like these schoolgirls were one thing, but now she was frightened to see how obedient a loyal amazon became, when she heard the Siren’s Cry.

Khri was gentle as she leaned closer and shook her head at whatever flaw in the helmet had left the girl open to the control.

“Return to the ship and rest.” She motioned for another woman to go with Tiya and carry the weapon she’d surrendered.

A few other pairs of amazons, free ones guiding those caught in the slaving-beam, went back to the ramp. The raid was over for them. Even inside Sorceress’ hull, where the Cry would no longer throb in their minds, it would be hours before they could think for themselves again.

I wonder if yielding to the Cry feels anything like falling under Her control. Susan slid her thighs together.

Feeling eyes on her, she saw Ylan a few paces away, her yellow gaze unblinking at Susan’s lust. Susan froze, and met the stare.

Parriel’s touch startled her out of it. “Come, love.”

Ylan’s section stayed near the ship, to round up the women dreaming out here on the athletic fields.

Khri’s section reformed under a panel that slid open along Sorceress’ underside, and a honeycomb of transparent tubes descended. Other amazons took up position. Most were to bring the tranquilized Earth females here. Each captive would be loaded into a conversion tube and fitted with induction probes.

As Sorceress carried the Earthling girls back to Venus, the tubes would brainwash them to obey. Each one’s thoughts would be drained, replaced with new truths even simpler than the ones Queen Kysa’s mindbenders had imprinted onto Susan. Susan realized that a girl here or there might be kept aside to be tested as a potential recruit, but Her Supremacy wasn’t seeking new amazons here at Santa Perdida. Just passive thralls.

These girls, laboring and fucking under the golden clouds of Venus, would be the first soft fruits from the slave orchard She would ultimately make of Earth itself.

Susan shivered again, this time in arousal. She longed for the day when her Queen would mount and ride her through that orchard.

She followed Parriel and the others under the ship. Down the hillside, Santa Perdida’s main buildings loomed against the sky like a brick frigate and its escorts. As they passed out of its shadow a voice suddenly thundered out over their heads, a woman’s voice speaking English.

It was Susan’s own voice. She had no memory of recording it. That excited her deeply.

“You are asleep.

“Your mind is asleep.

The warriors Kysa had handpicked for this raid had all been taught English phrases under hypnosis to handle their captives. Most, though, spoke it with an accent that was clear and lovely, but might be distracting for this kind of indoctrination.

“You cannot think.

“You cannot decide.

“You cannot remember how to think. You cannot remember how to decide.”

They strode through a sculpture garden of paralyzed Earthwomen falling deeper into trance, dreaming together to the pulse of the Siren’s Cry. Susan couldn’t tell how many were already enthralled, and how many instead drowsily resisted the beams that sapped their wills. They were just a half-clothed, smooth-skinned blur as she listened to her taped self brainwash them.

“You need to be told what to do.

“When you look into golden eyes, you will do as you are told.

“Women with golden eyes make you obedient.”

Now Susan could see the difference. As she watched, one lithe Asian girl with a ponytail and dimpled cheeks stopped fighting the trance and submitted. Like the runner below the ship, her desperate frown smoothed into calm acceptance. Under glazed eyes she started to smile, finally stunned into knowing she did want to obey. Many of the other girls were nodding, or staring raptly into space.

Taped-Susan was telling the girls they were slaves, and the Cry’s effect destroyed their ability to disbelieve her.

With every word the voice spoke, the resistant were fewer.

4.

Hearing herself melt their minds and watching them succumb made Susan moan in her helmet. She needed to fuck, to masturbate. When she’d recorded this so vibrantly, she’d obviously been as entranced as these Earth girls. Her knees nearly gave out as she realized how deep into their minds her words plunged, while the Siren’s Cry turned their wills to pudding.

“You are aroused.

“Your pussy is aroused.

“It turns you on to stop thinking.

“It turns you on to obey.

“You want to stop thinking and obey.

“You will obey my voice . . .”

Parriel smiled to her as they approached the main building. “You are making them obey.” She’d recognized Susan as the command voice, and clearly admired how the more susceptible students were nodding. A few were even mouthing the suggestions taped-Susan was implanting in their minds.

“You are warm and aroused.

“You want to be erotic.

“You want to be nude.

“You will be nude. You will be more aroused as you become nude.”

More division among the victims: some began disrobing as if already trained, while some could only paw at their clothes, too dazed to translate their need to obey into coherent action. They stared worshipfully into the fog the Siren’s Cry was making of their world. Susan almost envied them that fog, the heat and obedience that would waft from it and envelop them.

But Susan could obey Her Supremacy consciously. Each action, each breath she took in carrying out Kysa’s will was like a fingertip on her cleft.

Parriel had halted halfway up the steps to the main building. A pretty redhead stood bare-breasted by the rail, her eyes wide and blue. Her hands had almost undone the pleated uniform skirt and still held it over her thighs—Susan could see her gingery tuft peeking from the shadow—when she’d apparently forgotten how to continue.

Taped-Susan’s voice had moved on to deeper topics of submission and obedience. It left the compliant redhead no one to remind her how to strip.

“Let the skirt drop,” Parriel told her. The redhead instantly did so, the fabric whispering down her thighs and skidding onto and away from her dark knee socks. Pooling at her feet, it partly covered the slip of satin she’d slid out of, under the skirt, while she could still process the disrobing command.

Susan smiled. Even hypnotized, this girl had dropped her panties first. “You’re a slut!”

The redhead stiffened and her eyes grew even wider. God. Susan’s recorded voice was already conditioning her, and now Susan had dosed her with the live version. The girl’s eyes closed and then opened in ecstasy, and her hands relaxed by her softly-curving hips.

“I’m a slut!”

Susan had just brainwashed the redhead very thoroughly, burying that new belief in a mind already melted soft by the Cry. It might be possible to deprogram her now, but with a half-appalled thrill Susan knew no one would bother.

Parriel had watched and actually licked her lips as she saw Susan’s words seal the girl’s fate. She stroked the smooth skin, enjoying the girl’s exotic, un-Venerian pallor. “Yes. A slut. You will never be an amazon.”

“I will never be an amazon,” the girl whispered devoutly. Watching the red triangle dampen between the girl’s flexing thighs, Susan put a hand to her helmet, feeling frustrated.

“You will only serve them.” Parriel reached up to cup one lightly-freckled cheek and turn the eyes to face her own. Susan shivered at how coolly her lover mindfucked the girl.

“I will . . . only . . .” The redhead’s eyes widened as Parriel’s transfixed her. Her jaw loosened.

“I . . .”

Women with golden eyes make you obedient.

“I . . . will . . . only serve . . . yessss . . .”

Her blue eyes were bluer as her pupils shrank to pinpoints. Susan could almost see Parriel’s stare burn into the helpless girl. It was the same predatory look Ylan had given her, back by the ship.

As arousing as it was to see her amazon comrade make a slave of this soft Earthling, it hurt to see sweet Parriel turn as cruel as her trainer. Susan stepped forward, almost afraid to break the spell Parriel was weaving, and started to embrace her.

Their helmets thumped together, and it snapped Parriel out of her hunt-focus and Susan from her weird fear as they both laughed.

They laughed harder to see that the redhead was oblivious to the gaffe and still going deeper into trance. Susan knew the Parriel she loved was back when her lover pursed her lips in concern and stroked the girl again. “What is your name, Earthgirl?”

“Stephanie,” their new slave said quietly. Receiving commands seemed to calm her. Susan wondered what her own recorded, hypnotized voice had been putting into Stephanie’s head while none of them had paid attention—the girl had been receptive to everything while they’d stood there playing with her.

Susan wondered if her own taped commands were converting her.

Parriel’s voice was soft. “Stephanie, where do they make announcements here? So all students and teachers may hear and obey?”

Susan wondered, too. It had been years since she’d been at Santa Perdida as a student. Even when she’d described this place for Queen Kysa’s acquisitive pleasure, she’d known her detailed memory of the layout would be hazy and outdated.

“The new, office . . . annex,” Stephanie said, wonderingly. Thinking anything at all, at her new mistresses’ command, must feel like a privilege behind those prettily-glazed eyes.

“Take us there now, Stephanie.”

The girl stepped gracefully from her panties and skirt and went up the steps in nothing but her knee socks and pennyloafers. Susan and Parriel happily followed, enjoying the exquisite view.

They passed through a lobby and Susan let the deja vu slide off her as she focused on obeying her programming. She saw students and staff standing in trance but most were clothed, more or less. The building’s structure hadn’t kept the Siren’s Cry from making them docile and still, but it had blocked out most of taped-Susan’s detailed commands. The women in here hadn’t heard the order to strip, or any of the other indoctrination that had already enslaved Stephanie.

Susan looked up. The PA system was sleeker that what she remembered when she’d been here. She grinned to herself, looking forward to the bass undertones she could put through it. She didn’t know what else Her Supremacy had hypnotically programmed her to say, when she found herself at the microphone this time.

She did know it would take deep root in the minds here, being tilled by the Siren’s Cry.

5.

As she led them out the back of the main building, across a plaza toward the newer annex, Stephanie’s thighs flashed bright over the contrast of her dark socks, like and unlike the sight of a booted amazon from behind, and her whole body flowed up and out from them like a bright flower from a darker stem.

Susan broke her focus on the redhead’s languidly swaying ass and looked to the side. There was a glass-walled indoor pool—she recalled the brochure with plans for it, when she’d graduated. Inside, more entranced women waited quietly to be herded to the conversion tubes.

Susan stumbled when she saw about a dozen of them in matching maillots and swimcaps standing impassively at attention. They looked so fit and earnest she imagined they might be some weaker Earth echo of amazons, about to venture out into a losing battle with Her Supremacy’s warriors.

But they were just a swim team, minds stolen by the Siren’s Cry just as their coach was instructing them at a morning practice. The shapely older woman still stood before them, no longer in control but as hypnotized as they were. At her feet were a whistle and a clipboard where she’d dropped them, and the clip had sprung open. Some of the papers had found puddles and flattened to the floor. Others flapped unheeded against the coach’s ankle in a draft.

Susan looked at the other women around the pool. A few stood alone, caught by the controlling beam before they could go anywhere. Two girls sat on the pool’s edge, not kicking their legs but limply moving as small ripples washed up to them. They stared emptily at whatever the water was reflecting.

Another woman floated on her back, just buoyant enough that her nose and mouth were out of the water. As Susan looked away to the laned section of the pool, she saw a bright red swimcap, the float lines beside it lifting as the swimmer’s shoulder slid beneath them. Susan stared at the drowned girl, wondering what stroke she’d been practicing before the Siren’s Cry caught her face-down.

She looked away.

A girl stood poised like a statue on the high platform. Lower down, another, just as erect, balanced on the diving board—Susan thought she could actually see it move as the entranced girl’s heartbeat vibrated through her. She wondered which one had been waiting for the other’s dive before the Cry took them both. Did either one have enough mind left to see the red-capped swimmer, or enough willpower to be afraid of falling in and drowning with her?

“You cannot think.

“You cannot decide.

“You cannot remember how to think. You cannot remember how to decide.”

It was a new voice. Deeper than hers with an erotic lilt. Some well-programmed amazon, still aboard Sorceress or taped back on Venus, began reciting the implanted script. For a moment Susan was almost resentful, but her own indoctrination wilted her assertiveness. She meekly accepted that she would simply obey some new orders to serve the Queen instead, as soon as someone gave them to her.

The new voice had freed her from the tableau of the pool slaves. When she turned, Parriel was whispering into Stephanie’s ear and touching her. The nude redhead was rigid, her tiny nipples flushed and pointed. Once more Susan wished it were safe to doff the helmet and slurp the juice that she knew was seeping from Stephanie’s cleft.

She was beyond caring, now, how Parriel was warping the girl. It didn’t matter. During Stephanie’s long sleep as part of the cargo back to Venus, the tube programming would wipe this from her mind, along with her residual will, her inhibitions, her pointless Earthgirl memories. Her sense of herself as anything but a toy for golden-eyed women.

Then Parriel broke off. She looked at one of the dorms overlooking this quad. Stephanie trembled, imprinted for now on Parriel and moist for new command. Susan tracked her lover’s gaze up the wall of windows until she, too, saw the flickering near the corner of the third floor.

Parriel’s face lost its playful sadism and she turned to Susan. “There may be energy weapons. Some may resist.

“We must see.”

“I obey,” Susan told her, slipping easily into deference to the more experienced amazon. As they began to walk to the stairwell below the window, Stephanie stirred and blinked, turning to follow Parriel as if on a string. Her face glowed, as though she expected a treat from Parriel’s hand. She was learning it was treat enough to obey Parriel’s voice, even filtered through the helmet speakers.

Susan shook herself, knowing she was following her lover with scarcely more thought for anything but doing Parriel’s bidding. She was trained that way, but even now she knew there were questions. Who would have energy weapons here? And even if someone did, how—whoever she was—could she remember to use them, with the Siren’s Cry singing in her mind? Was there someone else shielded against it?

But she was still walking obediently at Parriel’s heels. She let Stephanie’s ass mesmerize her again as she followed the Earth slave up the stairwell after Parriel. They passed a blonde in loose shorts and a T-shirt slumped on the first landing, a burnt-out cigarette inches from her bare calf.

On the second landing, as they went out to the corridor, Susan gently pushed Stephanie aside so she could be at Parriel’s back to help her. Her whole body tingled with how soft and warm and smooth the redhead was. How very obediently she moved where she was put, willing to obey anyone, not just Parriel.

Stephanie’s wide eyes, blue and innocent, moved across Susan like a reverent caress, grateful to be manipulated, before losing focus again. She stood as still as when they’d found her dreaming outside.

Susan moved close to where Parriel waited, leaning to press her shoulder to her lover’s back, the ancient promise of skin to skin before they moved apart to face a danger to their Queen. Leveling their weapons, they stepped into the room.

Ylan turned to smile at them.

6.

The room’s shadow lit the bubble of Ylan’s helmet differently. Its curves were almost opaque, making her look doubly alien as she slowly lowered her utility light to her side. Before her, by the bed, stood an Earth girl with short-cropped brunette hair, with only a lavender sports bra to decorate her almost-sculpted muscle definition.

Another girl in nothing but a leather anklet stood beside her, a tanned blonde with cornrows, even stronger-looking but just as entranced. Both girls stood more tautly at attention than the others Susan had seen outside, as if under some kind of control even deeper than the Siren’s Cry. They almost seemed to have intense purpose. But a woman hearing the Cry could only obey others’ purposes.

Their stares crossed each other without the slightest awareness. On the floor and elsewhere Susan saw the debris of sports uniforms, though she couldn’t tell what the two girls played.

Used to play. She knew what they’d play from now on, back on Venus.

“They were lovers,” Ylan remarked to Parriel. “That much, they won’t need to be programmed for. They were still fucking when I found them. Maybe each was commanding the other to come when the Cry turned their minds into obedience. So even now they’re still climaxing, inside those pretty heads. And linking that with submission.” She seemed pleased, but anxious for Parriel’s reaction.

“You can imagine how easy that made it to hypnotize them. Especially with the strobelight.”

Susan was suddenly very afraid.

But each thing she’d seen since they’d left the ship had wrapped her in another gossamer thread of arousal, and now the web made her too hot, too wet.

She didn’t know what she feared, yet. She just wanted to lick it.

Almost. “Parriel. I—”

Ylan looked at her once, very briefly. She stepped away from her captives, halving the distance to Parriel. She snapped her fingers.

The two hypnotized athletes sprang at Susan from where they stood, and they were so fast—so brutally sexy—that she forgot her training and stood frozen as they seized her on either side, and then pressed against her, trapping her weapon and her arms against her.

Another fingersnap, and the cornrowed blonde’s hand was tight over Susan’s helmet speaker. Through the filters, Susan could smell sweet lotion, and what was probably the brunette’s pussy, on the blonde’s fingers.

“Parriel!” It was muffled, but her lover turned briefly, wide-eyed, before spinning to face Ylan.

Susan’s relief was chilled, though. Even tensed to hold her, both girls kept staring. She realized they’d have had no idea how to silence a Venerian helmet. Ylan had obviously instructed them. Shown them her own.

Susan thrashed against them, but she was no match for their toned bodies. And Ylan had wiped their minds of everything but flat-eyed obedience, so they lived to keep Susan bound until Ylan told them to do something else.

Parriel’s weapon swung up in a blur, leveled between Ylan’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” Parriel asked quietly, after another brief, priceless nod to Susan. “Why do you have slaves defy an amazon of the Queen?”

Ylan was unperturbed. “They did well, didn’t they, Parriel? Quick and strong, and so responsive. Good bodies, as well-conditioned as an Earthling slut can manage. At least without a mistress to saddle her and condition her body to its true potential.”

“Ylan, tell them to let Susan—”

“They might look like amazons, Parriel, or at least recruits. But in the end, they’re flabby minds in taut bodies, easily led. They seem almost eager to submit. None of the ones we take today will serve Her Supremacy alongside us in the ranks.

“They’re all going into the tubes. When they wake up on Venus, the strong ones will be labor drones, the softer ones maidservants.”

Ylan looked at Susan impassively. “Or whores.”

“You’re already breaking—”

“Look at these two, Parriel. They already obey me without question—I’m an invader from space, but my wish is their will. Docile and wet and willing. On Venus they’d be a diverting fuck, for a while. They might be useful for a new apprentice to spar with. Once she passed novice she could kill them; blooding her could be their last service to us.

“But to be amazons? No. Earthlings serve and sleep.” She glanced back at Susan, smiling as Susan writhed. “All Earthlings.”

Parriel gripped her weapon, never having had to confront a comrade this way before—much less her own trainer. Susan marveled at her. How much of this was love for her, and how much was Parriel’s basic courage? “Ylan, let her go. Our section leader—”

“Yes. Khri told you to take the little puppet to the address system so she can coax the rest of her slave-sisters into the tubes. But as you heard, any real amazon can control Earthlings with her voice. Your whore isn’t even needed to mindfuck her own kind.”

“Stun her, Parriel!”

But it was so muffled neither of the Venerian girls even looked over. The entranced Earthwomen still held Susan, and her body was betraying her. Warm solid arms wrapped her, and a moist cunt was tight and hot against each thigh. She felt herself moisten, and thrashed, trying to keep fighting.

Parriel swallowed. “Our Queen called Susan one of us, Ylan. Do you question Her will?”

Invoking Kysa weakened Ylan for a moment, and Susan admired her lover’s thinking. But Ylan recovered quickly. “Parriel, Her Supremacy has many ways to beguile useful knowledge from an alien bitch. Even toying with one, letting her play Queen’s-chosen. But She will see how deep slavery runs in the Earth species.” She impaled Susan with another bright glare.

“Susan will show her.”

Parriel couldn’t bring herself to attack Ylan even now. “Susan trained with us! For someone who wasn’t raised to the warrior’s way, as we were, she can still—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Ylan agreed. “She didn’t share what you and I share, Parriel. She didn’t worship the Queen from birth, as we did. She didn’t learn to think the way we do, to feel the way we do, to believe everything that we do, to believe the complete truth as we do, to obey as we do, to obey as you and I do, to listen carefully as you do, to believe as you do, to obey without question as you do . . .”

The insidious rhythm had already lulled Parriel, but Susan knew what Ylan was doing. She writhed against the two Earthgirls, uselessly—their grip was unbreakable.

“Noooo!” Susan’s cry echoed flatly inside her helmet. The spellbound brunette gazed past her head without blinking.

Susan watched her enemy hypnotize her lover.

7.

Parriel stared into Ylan’s eyes, her weapon drooping unheeded.

Even in her horror, Susan could admire Ylan—her enemy didn’t flinch as Parriel, half-hypnotized, waved the weapon across her chest. Even if Ylan did this perfectly, she could still die, accidentally slain by her own subject. She was no coward.

Then Parriel blinked.

“N-no. No, Ylan. Don’t . . . try to do this to me.” She blinked again, forcing herself awake. “You could do it to me before when I was younger, when I was still learning.”

“A wise woman never stops learning,” Ylan said. “And you let me control you, when you needed it. Remember straining under the weights? How tired it made you, how weak you felt pressing against their irresistible—?”

“Stop . . . sss . . . top . . .” Parriel’s eyelids fluttered but she didn’t look away from Ylan.

Obeying Ylan in their own trance, the jock girls kept Susan silenced and immobilized.

“You remember,” Ylan told Parriel. Parriel slowly nodded—then shook herself.

“S-s-stop it, Ylan. Stop hypnotizing me!” With an effort, Parriel closed her eyes. “I won’t let you! This isn’t . . .” She swallowed hard.

Ylan’s smile showed teeth. She knew the memory Parriel was trying to repel from her mind, from her pussy.

“Yes, Parriel!” Susan squirmed against the mindless hardbodies. “Fight her! Don’t let her control you!” But they held her fast, and kept her speaker covered.

Tensing uselessly, Susan couldn’t help imagining Parriel and Ylan in a Venerian training hall. Nude among the weights, eyes reflecting mutual gold as the hypnotic balance swung: Parriel whispering in sleepy submission, Ylan’s hiss . . .

Parriel’s own memory drew her back into thrall. But she forced her eyes open and shook her head.

“Push the dream away,” Ylan whispered, warping Parriel’s resistance into more of her induction. “Push, so heavy, so hard, for me. Sleepier with every . . . straining . . . breath . . .”

Parriel stared pleadingly at Ylan, still unable to look away.

“No! Parriel! Noooo!” No one heard Susan. The mute-paralysis nightmare was real. She couldn’t break the spell.

“So, so strong, and so loyal, my Parriel. I knew someday I might need to touch your mind, the way touching your clit in training made you obey. I would need the strong warrior you were becoming—wrapped around the docile little trainee you still were. I would need the trainee to awaken, and put the warrior to sleep.

“I conditioned you for that, when you trusted me.

“When you loved me.”

Susan’s resolve faltered at the sudden pain in Ylan’s tone.

“It’s still there in your mind, Parriel. And I’ve just made you receptive again.

“Remember it now: Taste me, slavegirl. I sit astride you. I am all you know.”

Ylan relished seeing her old trigger overcome Parriel’s will again. Parriel’s eyes widened, and she looked younger, softer, less sure.

“I taste you again, mistress,” she whispered meekly. “I hear your call. I remember.

“I obey.”

Susan’s heart nearly stopped. Then she twisted until she thought her back would break, and the blonde finally lost her hold over the speaker.

“Parriel! No!”

But Parriel was already in a trance. She ignored her human lover, seeing only Ylan. The athletes recovered and held Susan still. She’d twisted a little, and now she could see Stephanie in the doorway.

For a second she thought instinctively of commanding the redhead to help. But Stephanie only watched it all with wide blue eyes. The Siren’s Cry had emptied her of everything but obedience.

She was just a slut, anyway. Susan had said so, when her word was Stephanie’s reality. She’d melt at one glance from Ylan.

Parriel’s eyes were open now. She straightened, looking alertly at Ylan, and swung her weapon to ready stance.

“This trainee is yours to command, Teacher!”

Susan writhed the speaker free. “Parriel!”

Still staring into Parriel’s eyes, Ylan pointed to Susan. “That is an Earthling.”

Parriel snapped a glance left, straight at Susan. “That is an Earthling.”

“Parriel! God! Please!”

“The Earthling must be enslaved.”

“The Earthling must be enslaved.” Parriel’s voice shook with conviction. And excitement . . .

“Parriel!” Throat pain and ringing in her ears told Susan how loudly she’d screamed.

Her lover was as much Ylan’s puppet as these muscular Earthgirls, who would hold Susan forever until someone put another command into their minds. And Parriel—

“Go to the Earthling, Parriel. Await my command.”

“I obey, Teacher.” Pivoting crisply, Parriel slung her weapon, to keep both hands free. Her eyes were ecstatic, glassy. Hypnotized.

Susan forgot to be afraid as hate ignited. Parriel loved her, but this evil bitch had put her hooks into her trusting pupil’s mind years ago, too deep for Parriel to fight.

“Parriel, remove her helmet now.”

Fear came back. Susan remembered Tiya, helplessly submitting beneath Sorceress when her helmet failed. The Siren’s Cry paralyzed her will and left her unable to disobey.

It would end Susan’s resistance just as completely. She’d be as docile as these students holding her. Do and think whatever her enemy told her.

And Parriel would make it happen.

“Oh, love . . . ”

Hoarse despair reached past Parriel’s conditioning where outcries hadn’t. She stopped, and stared at Susan. Her head tilted, as when she needed to figure something out.

“Teacher? The Earthling . . . she . . . hurts . . . ”

“No.” Ylan was gentle. “It won’t hurt her, Parriel.” Parriel’s eyelids drooped again. “These slaves will control her, and it will only take a moment.

“Once her helmet’s off, she’ll tell you herself.”

“No, Parriel.” Susan tried to keep still, to look less like a captive. “Don’t do this. She’s got you brainwashed. I love you.”

Parriel peered at Susan, through the fog in her mind. Susan wordlessly shook her head. She only realized she was crying when the tears stung her lips.

“The Earthling must be enslaved.” Ylan snapped Parriel’s concentration.

Back under her spell, Parriel’s eyes glazed over. “Yes, Teacher. The Earthling must be enslaved.” She stared as if at a stranger.

“Remove her helmet, Parriel. Let her hear the Siren’s Cry.

“Obey me.”

Susan looked at Ylan. The golden-eyed amazon smiled very faintly. In moments she would be at Ylan’s mercy, and Ylan had none. She looked away

Staring through the plastic at her lover, Susan remembered the smell of her hair, when they’d slept.

No! That was grief. Loser-thinking. The last pathetic thought of her own that Susan would ever be allowed to have, unless . . .

These athletes, even poor Tiya—they hadn’t known what was happening when the Cry enslaved them. Tranquilized before they could even start to fight.

Susan knew. Ylan wanted her to, every bit of it. Maybe she could use that knowledge to resist.

Parriel raised her arms.

Susan looked into the too-focused eyes, once. “I do love you, Parriel.”

The hypnotized girl paused, looking at Susan curiously.

“I will always love you. If anyone makes me forget that, I know you’ll remember.”

Ylan sighed. “Obey, Parriel.”

“I obey, Teacher.”

Susan glared at Ylan. You won’t control me. I will resist.

Parriel’s hands were on the helmet.

I will kill you for making my lover do this.

She heard the click and the hiss and—

8.

Susan suddenly felt nice.

She stared stupidly into space. Something nice buzzed—soothingly between her ears, teasingly between her thighs. The soft vibrations seemed to blur the very folds of her brain, shaking her thoughts apart and slipping between them. Loosening them. Making them dance to its irresistible frequency.

She tried to blink. Forgot why. Forgot how.

The subliminal hum had already faded when she noticed it gone. For a hazy second, she thought it had somehow stopped and let her be. Then she knew. She still felt nice but also scared.

The alien machine on Sorceress had resynchronized her thoughts. Now she was in phase with every other Earthgirl at Santa Perdida. Reformatted, like them, to obey Venerian commands without question.

It wasn’t instantaneous. She made herself remember the girl beside the ship, able to fight to stay awake and resist. The others she’d seen across the campus, dreamily struggling.

But she’d seen those girls lose that fight, relaxing into trance. By now they’d all have submitted completely.

Like the ones holding Susan, expressionless in profile. Aware of nothing but their last command. So still and taut and mindlessly obedient . . .

So erotic to become one of them. Surrender, stop thinking. Sleep with her eyes open.

Obey.

Nnnooo . . . must . . . help—Parriel! That helped—a little. It was harder with each heartbeat not to enjoy being dazed into a slave, but it still hurt, enough, to remember Parriel hypnotized into turning on her.

No! I will—resist!

All she could really focus on was feeling so relaxed and nice. With a reflex she didn’t understand, she tried to clear her head.

“You did well.”

Like a sudden touch in bed, Ylan’s voice tranquilized her. She surrendered to the nice again. Limp against the musclegirls, she felt even more passive.

“It feels so good to obey.”

Susan felt herself imprinting on the voice. It was so convincing. She would believe anything it told her.

“Yes, Teacher.” Parriel.

Her head like lead, Susan tried turn toward Parriel. Ylan hadn’t even been speaking to her—she was reinforcing Parriel’s trance, rewarding her. Parriel sounded happy. Compliant.

Susan wanted Ylan to reward her, too. She was wet for even secondhand domination.

No!

But her resolve was weaker. She tried to focus on it.

“Look at me, Susan.”

Without thinking, Susan looked.

Suddenly Ylan was the center of the universe. As Susan knew this, her body tingled delightfully—just obeying that little bit was a rush. It took her a few moments to start thinking again, though all she could really think of was Ylan.

It took a few more to be scared. Ylan’s voice had flowed into her mind—becoming her mind. Susan felt certain that she had to obey, even realizing her certainty was only a few seconds old. The Siren’s Cry had vibrated it into her beliefs.

Susan believed it.

Ylan smiled. “You will not resist or flee me, Susan.”

Susan shivered as the other girl’s voice bewitched her, binding her will. Combing those ideas out of her thoughts. She would not resist now. Or flee.

“There.” Ylan’s voice was silken with satisfaction. “I don’t want to hurry, but I do want to be safe.

“I could hypnotize you, like these two.” Ylan gestured with the strobelight. “But it’s better to watch your mind enslave itself.

“You’re trying to outthink the Siren effect. I can see it. But it’s too late. Even if anyone let you put your helmet back on, your mind is still—soft.” The image caressed Susan’s thoughts. Her mind like putty, softened, smoothed for reshaping. Helpless to choose what shape it would be given . . .

“You know how obedient it’s making you.” Ylan was using her knowledge against her, but that voice still compelled her. “It harmonized your brainwaves. It moves through your thoughts, your desires, melting each one into malleable softness. Any desire to disobey me, to think for yourself . . . melting . . . gone . . .”

She paused, letting Susan picture it. The compulsion made it real, seeing her beliefs destroyed—and her new addiction to Ylan’s voice made it almost orgasmic.

She already knew it was nice.

She still knew terror, anguish for Parriel, hate for Ylan. But the signal owned her brain. It was a siren song, soothing and arousing, and it sang promises of joy and sleep and glorious pleasure if she just surrendered.

She was fucked.

She still wanted to kill Ylan, but Ylan could make her change what she wanted. And knew it.

“Remember how you feel about me right now, Susan. But from now on, your deepest need is to obey me. You are my slave.”

Susan squealed as the compulsion seized her. She felt her hate turn warm and slick between her thighs.

It was like masturbating but losing control, surrendering to the long-delayed orgasm. And it was wonderfully tainted. When Ylan had defined right now, Susan was already enthralled.

She was Ylan’s slave.

She wanted to play with herself and relive it. She longed to kneel to Ylan, right now, and moan her submission, but the two slaves held her still. And anyway—it would be sweeter to be told to kneel.

Only her total lack of willpower kept her from looking up at the triumph glittering in Ylan’s eyes.

She was fucked.

Now she knew what she’d done to Stephanie’s mind with one casual remark. How Stephanie’d felt when Susan bent her.

God. Stephanie just stood quietly. Strange women in space helmets led her naked around her conquered school, altering her deepest thoughts—and she could only wait and dampen, hoping they’d do it to her again. Stephanie was a willing slave.

Like Susan.

“Think for me, slave.”

She did. It made her wet knowing Ylan could also tell her to stop thinking. And she would.

Words were so powerful, when Ylan spoke them.

“I wanted to watch, when the prey knew she was losing her will. It’s sweet enough to see Earthlings staring like gaffed fish when it stops them in mid-idea, but to watch you . . . submit . . .” Ylan smiled. Susan squirmed.

She put her lips together and realized how long they’d been parted.

“Be silent. Look at the amazon beside you.”

Susan turned toward Parriel. She loved the other girl, but what mattered right now was that obeying a command fluttered her pussy.

“Do not call her by name. Tell her you are happy, because you are just a submissive Earthling who needs and deserves only to be a slave. And that everything is as it should be.”

Susan was thrilled to be Ylan’s talking handpuppet. It made her smile loose and foolish as she looked into her lover’s eyes.

Those eyes were still glassy with Ylan’s control. Parriel saw only a newly-entranced captive.

“I am happy!” Susan moistened, yielding to it slowly.

“Because . . . I am just a submissive Earthling.” She savored it. “I . . . need . . . to be a slave.”

Parriel’s lovely face twisted in contempt and glee.

Susan shivered against the mindless Earthgirls. Almost climaxed. She wanted, very badly, to kneel to Ylan now. To thank Ylan.

“I deserve only to be a slave,” she gasped. Oh, to worship Ylan.

“Everything is as it should be.”

Because it was all becoming true.

9.

Ylan snapped her fingers again.

The two athletes released Susan carefully, then came to attention. Almost feeling Ylan’s hold on her mind, Susan stood as still as they did.

Ylan turned to Parriel. “Sleep now.” Instantly, Parriel closed her eyes.

Facing Susan again, Ylan’s expression hardened. “Get out of that harness.” Susan pulled at it, basking in the scorn. “Amazons wear that. Slavegirls wear nothing.

“Unless they’re told to play dress-up.”

Ylan laughed to see her hands slip as the words preempted Susan’s brain and strummed her pussy. The laughter drove Susan deeper.

Soon Susan was naked, kneeling on the floor at the enslaved students’ feet. She couldn’t see Parriel and a tiny, dying part of her was glad.

It was easy not to think about Parriel, or freedom. A Siren still sang her mind blank, and each heartbeat reminded her she was a slave. She must obey.

Without the helmet, smells were stronger. Nostalgia kissed her.

A women’s dorm. Cool morning air coming in the windows, instead of Venus’ soporific tropical warmth. It was as if she were a student again, and her old classmates could see her reduced to kneeling and juicing at an alien girl’s feet. Ready to obey. Needing to obey. Her face level with everyone’s pussy.

Pussy. Flavors of arousal, all around her, against her. She hadn’t liked girls when she’d been here, before, but now . . . ohh, now. Slaves above her, sweet with her sweat and theirs. Young and fit and utterly controlled. Taken during sex, orgasms still pulsing in their minds. She wished she could lick them both clean.

One flavor was hers. She was dripping as she lost her freedom, and she dripped to know it.

It felt so . . . good . . . so fucking g . . . good . . .

Like someone’s tongue on her. Someone with no other thought than where to put that tongue. When to lick when to flick when just to rest it on the very tip of the clit.

Jessie’s tongue. Jessie—friend, licking her folds. She was just like Jessie now, obedient and happy. Of course, she hadn’t been trained to lick the way Jessie had.

But she would be. Ylan would see to it.

She looked up into yellow eyes and came.

“Slut.”

The word rang in her head. Slut. Her. Yes.

“Slut,” she said. She remembered watching a redheaded girl, naked to her socks, realizing she was a slut. Obedient Stephanie, believing everything she was told.

Now it would be obedient Susan. Now she knew how arousing that was.

She was going to be just like Stephanie. Wide-eyed and willing.

Susan gaped at Ylan, a clearheaded amazon as Susan herself had been minutes before. But the soft blurring in her head was already making that seem unreal. Not as important as kneeling here at Ylan’s feet, staring up at the only woman left in the room with free will.

Ylan turned. “Awaken now, Parriel, and obey me.”

Parriel’s eyes shone as they opened blissfully. “I attend, Teacher.”

“Our slut must blend in, out there. Find something for her.” Ylan plucked a lacy bra from a nearby dresser, smiling at the expressionless roommates as if about to ask whose it was. “Like this?”

Parriel moved closer. She turned to Susan and smiled, but it was the huntress’ smile she’d given to Stephanie. “She’s so wet, Teacher.”

Susan wanted to touch herself. She tried not to do that in front of them. It would be so humiliating.

Her fingers found her slit. Went faster as she saw how they stared at her.

Yesss . . .

For a golden moment she was looking up at Ylan.

“Mistress, may I taste you?” She shivered. “May I please you?”

“No.” Ylan was genuinely cold. “Unlike you, I rule my pussy. And I respect it too much to soil it with a slut’s tongue in an active area.

“I just wanted to hear you ask.

“Now stand up.”

Susan had to close her eyes, as the joy of just standing on command blanked her mind.

“You want to help us bring you to Sorceress. You want to be put into a tube.”

It slotted into Susan’s mind and locked. She did want it. Urgently.

“Yes, Mistress!”

“You don’t want anyone to prevent it.”

Of course not. “No, Mistress!”

“Choose something.” Ylan gestured around the room.

Susan looked at the musclegirls, who stood awaiting Ylan’s slightest whim. She ached to be like them, blank and mindless, but she had commands to obey. Miles to go before she slept.

They were about her size but stronger—but she didn’t want to wear much, and knew Ylan wanted her mostly nude. She padded to the dresser and took one ankle sock and a wristband from the first drawer she opened.

Before she could put them on, a submissive twinge in her pussy made her want to straighten, and turn, and hold them out to Ylan. “Do these please you, Mistress?”

Ylan gave an imperial nod, and now Susan could wear them. Still obeying the command to think, she knew what it meant.

She’d be led across Santa Perdida’s campus with the rest of the docile Earthlings. The other amazons would just see one more slave, caught undressing when the Siren’s Cry snatched her will and left her waiting for command. No one would save her. No one would know.

Unable to resist the urge, Susan came submissively to attention like Ylan’s two hardbodied puppets. Ylan walked over to her, and Susan moaned as her enemy gently touched her head, unbinding her hair to let it fall, making Susan look even less like an amazon to the casual eye.

A click echoed through the dorm corridor.

“You cannot think.” Another helpful new slave like Stephanie had shown other amazons the internal PA system. Now everyone indoors, tranced by the Cry but blocked from the outside commands, could hear and obey.

Susan loved that someone else could sing the Earthlings to sleep. Now she needed only to let Ylan march her to a conditioning tube.

The PA had clearer sound than she remembered. The Venerian voice lilted sweetly through the halls.

“You must obey.”

Her phonetic English was as sexy as a foreign popstar’s.

And slowly, every girl here was dancing to it.

10.

Susan stood placidly on the dormitory stairs, legs together like the two girls on the steps below her, and Stephanie above her and behind. The concrete was cool under her one bare foot. She enjoyed being still, one of four Earthgirls obeying Ylan’s command to wait.

“You must come to the spaceship.”

Susan felt a mild urge to surrender to the voice and go at once, but Ylan’s hold on her was nearer. And hotter. She kept still.

On the lower landing, the blonde who’d fallen into trance while smoking was now staring raptly into Ylan’s eyes, her tee and shorts at her feet. Ylan was telling her how to obey the orders coming over the PA. She hadn’t had time to take off a leather band circling her upper arm, before Ylan took more immediate control of her.

“You have no fear of the spaceship.”

Now the blonde’s tranquil gaze belied the take-no-shit leather, as she absorbed what she must do. Ylan spoke again, and the blonde pivoted to step down and leave the dorm. Already instructed by Ylan, Susan and the others followed.

“It turns you on to come to the spaceship.”

Susan’s head spun to imagine it. Going to Sorceress not as an armed Queen’s favorite, but just a nameless captive. Each step nearer would deepen her trance . . .

“You will come now to the spaceship.”

As they went outside she let herself imagine the Siren’s Cry was sweeping more strongly across her brain. Flattening her silly Earthling thoughts, making her more submissive to her new mistress.

That might even be what was happening. She was getting more excited to think about the ship. But she was already lost.

Bootheels clicked behind her. Mesmerized by watching Ylan imprint the blonde, she’d forgotten Parriel. But Parriel was imprinted too, by Ylan’s old training. She obeyed Ylan as they all did.

“It turns you on to obey.”

Parriel’s obedience still hurt Susan, but very distantly. Ylan had told her she wanted to help get herself enslaved, so she was happy Parriel had been tranced into helping as well.

Susan had already tried to be helpful. For a heartbeat, her discarded weapon and harness made her hope. Ylan wouldn’t leave them for Earthlings to find, and if they openly brought amazon battledress to Sorceress, someone would notice, and investigate. Someone would stop Susan before she stepped blissfully into a conversion tube.

But she wanted to end up in a tube. Ylan had told her to.

Susan had almost climaxed as she threw away a chance for rescue. Blurting it out to Ylan was like frigging herself.

“You want to stop thinking and obey.”

Ylan had already planned for that, but was pleased at how easily Susan thought like a slave. The gear was folded away now in fannypacks which Susan had emptied out, the tranced jock girls oblivious as she spilled their possessions onto the dorm floor. Ready to be Ylan’s draymares, they’d stood placidly while Susan strapped the packs to them.

“You want to learn to obey.”

Parriel had fieldstripped Susan’s weapon; she and Ylan now carried its parts on their own gearbelts.

Feeling more naked than ever as she walked into the sun, Susan stayed alert for more chances to help Ylan enslave her forever. Then, she gasped.

Streaming from buildings, crossing the quad, students and staff were all zombie-walking toward the hill where the alien spacecraft loomed, obeying the summons that now sounded from Sorceress itself. Susan remembered an old movie—the Eloi, entranced by the ancient air-raid sirens, sleepwalking helplessly to their doom under the monstrous sphinx.

“You must come to the spaceship.”

These girls were already blank-eyed, even if the siren they heard sang only inside their heads. Many had already discarded their clothes when told, but some had started hearing commands out of sequence. Some with early classes wore Santa Perdida’s plaid kilts and blouses, shorts and sweats, T-shirts they’d been sleeping in. Instructresses in their crisp skirts and heels moved among them. But in their obedient daze, striding rhythmically to the ship, they all looked alike.

“You want to be nude.”

Like flowers in a breeze, those still dressed stopped amid the parade and began to strip. The ones already naked brushed absently past them, able to think only of the spaceship they must go to.

Susan stopped seeing them as she herself obeyed the voice. She’d already stopped and was pulling off the single sock before she knew it. It felt so nice. She wanted to be nude. Ylan still dominated her, but she was doing as Ylan had told her—stripping to look like every other Earthgirl. Stephanie had stopped, too, kicking off her pennyloafers and pulling down her knee socks with drowsy urgency.

The athletes didn’t break step. Ylan had hypnotized them much more deeply with the strobelight, and they heard no voice but hers. She’d blocked their minds from any urge to take off the packs. Now, a gesture from her had both Susan and Stephanie stepping quickly forward to stay with them.

Like them but without any hurry, each Earthgirl stepped away from her clothing to rejoin the flow.

“On the spaceship you will sleep, and learn to obey.”

Susan wanted to join the flow, too. The girls looked dazed, receptive, willing. The Siren’s Cry made them all want to obey, and the orders they received were simple. They were being drawn away from their lives and homes and families, but they were too spellbound to resist. None of them was still able to fight, or run, or even hold still against the need to follow.

They all stared numbly at the ship, where they would sleep and obey.

Susan knew. And she was one of them, under the same spell. Sorceress transfixed her, too. She was only able to think because Ylan wanted her to.

Straining what was left of her will, she forced herself to turn away from the ship and look at her enemy. Her mistress. Ylan was watching her, feeling each step of Susan’s march to slavery just as she’d ensured Susan was.

Both of them loved it. Susan felt a humiliating bond with the other woman. She needed to grovel.

“You conquered me, Mistress.” Wide-eyed girls surrounded them, padding toward the hill, but too deeply entranced to hear. Ylan ignored them and nodded.

“I was an insolent Earthgirl. You taught me my place.” Susan writhed inside, hating this and loving it. What Ylan had already done to her had become self-sustaining. Even were Susan somehow spared brainwashing, obeying Ylan had already become part of her.

“You made me nothing.” She enjoyed the pain, and the gratitude Ylan had braided into it.

“I want to be your slave, Mistress!” It was so inane—but she needed Ylan to hear her say it.

Ylan nodded. She understood. Susan was already enslaved enough that it didn’t even feel perverse to love her for that.

“But only for now.” Ylan spoke almost kindly. “When you awaken on Venus, you’ll remember nothing.”

Susan’s eyes blurred. She remembered crying for Parriel, but it was a vague dream compared to this. It hurt that she could only give her mistress this short time to gloat—Ylan would see all the obedient Earthsluts she liked, but couldn’t savor Susan’s fully-aware surrender after this.

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I wish I could always know you defeated me.” Her head swam. Degrading herself was insanely arousing, and it all became true as she said it. Defenseless under the Siren’s Cry, she was brainwashing herself.

“I will always know you are superior to me.” Her gasp was as desperate as any final farewell. “But—”

“—you won’t remember why, slave. I know.” Ylan’s smile was only briefly a sad one. “But I will.”

“That’s all that matters, Mistress!” If Susan had a tail, she’d have been wagging it.

Ylan had never seen a dog. Nevertheless, she seemed to recognize a tamed bitch.

11.

Susan didn’t know when the amazon stopped talking over Sorceress’ speakers. The commands had become almost like the Siren’s Cry—part of her mind, replacing not only her thoughts but her very reflexes.

Sorceress no longer needed that to control the captives. It owned them now. There were no sounds but the soft ones of bare bodies moving in step.

The amazons were silent, too. With mere gestures, one of them could control twenty Earthgirls, who were utterly docile after this long hearing the Cry, lining up obediently around the ship.

Some gaped at the ship, while others could only stare glassily forward. Several carried packs—other Venerians had taken souvenirs—and amazons moved among them, gently unloading the Earthgirls’ burdens rather than rouse them from trance.

Susan’s need to keep surrendering throbbed through her like blood. Her artificial devotion to Ylan still sang in her heart, but it was blurring into a new, soft need to become one of the herd.

As Ylan led them all toward the well-behaved throng below Sorceress, Susan’s glance floated to the lattice of transparent tubes hanging down from the spaceship’s belly. Two facing rows of them, at ground level, had just finished filling with motionless girls. They stood at attention inside the cylinders like dolls on display, bodies already pent in the stasis that would secure them for shipment. Each already wore a fairy crown of filaments, the tube’s interface with her brain.

The victims’ eyes closed as the filaments began controlling them. The tubes were drawn up into Sorceress almost noiselessly, while two new rows descended. The next group of girls stepped forward and entered them, coming to attention as the cylinders slid shut. The mind control crowns came down, their fragile-looking probes finding the correct points on each girl’s head.

All around them, the other girls just watched and waited their turn.

Susan was wet. Soon it would be her turn. She would be like every other slave, going obediently into her tube, relaxing into stasis, letting them start brainwashing her while her feet were still on her homeworld. On Venus she’d wake as one more willing slave.

Then she saw an amazon she knew.

Her heart pounded. If the woman recognized her, Susan might end up being led up the ramp to join Tiya and the others to sleep it off. She’d be saved from being erased in a conditioning tube. She might even be cured of her imprinted worship of Ylan.

She couldn’t let that stop her enslavement.

“Mistress!” she hissed.

Casually, Ylan drew nearer. “Yes?”

“The guard ahead. She’s from my section, Mistress.”

“Good slave.”

Ylan signed to Parriel and they deftly steered Susan and the others away to the other end of the line of tubes. Susan panted, letting another chance drip away like girlhoney down her quivering thigh. With an effort, she looked furtively around, but saw no one else who’d know her. Who’d save her.

Ylan said nothing, leaving it to her new slave to speak again and keep herself fucked.

Susan could relax now. Her pussy clenched as she watched two more ranks of girls step forward into their tubes, stiffen in the forcefields, stare while the lacy mindprobes slid down to their heads. This time, she was close enough to see the girls respond to the probes’ first automated commands. Their eyes glazed over, then started to roll up as their eyelids fluttered. Whatever the filaments did to them, the girls were feeling it as orgasms.

When she’d given up her will on Venus, Susan had submitted in person to hypnotists and mindbenders. Queen Kysa, most bewitching of all, had very intimately seduced her—body, mind, and soul. This time, machines would wipe Susan’s thoughts, impersonally, replacing them with the same new beliefs they etched onto the mind of every other sleeper around her. No one would even be watching when her selfhood died.

It nearly made her beg for an orgasm—if only to let Ylan sneer at her again.

And Parriel . . . Susan was grateful her thoughts were so warped now. She could barely imagine her old mind-state. That Susan would have despised the eager slave she’d become, and run or died before facing brave sweet Parriel.

Now she wanted Parriel to see her like this. It gave her enough to turn slightly, to try to speak to her lover.

Seeing Parriel look back at her hurt. The sliver of her that didn’t want to be Ylan’s bitch, that wanted to be worthy of Parriel, was still there. It knew she was lost, but it made her want to give Parriel something. A goodbye.

She didn’t smile. It would hurt.

Parriel smiled instead. Susan’s lips parted to speak.

“You cannot think.” Parriel stared into her widening eyes and commanded her.

Susan felt it on her clit.

“You must obey.”

Dark ecstasy washed everything else from Susan’s mind. “I must obey!” Slowly she faced forward again.

She was a slave. She would obey.

Ylan had left her aware enough to see the tamed herd of girls still waiting to be loaded. Some wore their hair loose enough for the breeze to catch, and it blew unheeded across their faces. Susan’s arousal spiked, seeing how helpless and willing the Venerian control could make her fellow Earthlings.

The two musclegirls strode into their tubes, nearside, facing away from her. Susan watched them stiffen, imagined them closing their eyes. The probes would erase even their robotic obedience to Ylan.

Her own tube would be just above. Susan didn’t look for it, just stared at the slaves beginning their processing. Kept staring when their tubes rose out of view.

Some in the nude ranks of Earthgirls beyond, watching passively, must be juicing now. Obeying the command to be aroused as they waited to be enslaved.

The new cylinders came down.

Parriel ordered Susan to enter hers.

Hearing her lover’s last words, Susan stepped across the last Earth soil she’d ever feel, and came to attention in her tube. The stasis field flowed up over her body like liquid latex, body-warm and constricting.

Across from her, she saw Ylan just past the other rank of tubes—she’d walked around to watch Susan begin her brainwashing. Her golden stare drank Susan in, and gave her nothing. Susan tried to fall into it, but the stasis field forced her own gaze forward, keeping her head still for the probes.

Ylan had brought Stephanie. Now she sent the tame redhead into her own tube, facing Susan’s.

Immobilized, Susan could only stare at the girl she’d helped enthrall. Stephanie looked blissful, just doing as she was told. Her blue eyes didn’t flicker as stasis paralyzed her, and she stared serenely right through Susan as the brainwashing filaments settled over her brow.

Susan felt her own tube’s crown descending. Cool and light, the mindprobes found the base of her skull, the lobes of her brain.

Her thoughts abruptly softened as the probes began taking control. Watching Stephanie’s eyes flutter in orgasm, she started succumbing to her own.

Commands seeped into her brain, more real than her own thoughts. Simpler.

Darkness, as she was drawn up into Sorceress. A twilight honeycomb of cylinders, around and above her. Each held a nude Earthgirl specimen, erect and asleep under her mind control coronet.

The rows swung together, and Stephanie’s tube was nearly touching Susan’s. The redhead’s face was blank now as her programming intensified. Susan could see nothing else.

When she was too far gone even to see Stephanie, all she could think of were golden eyes.

Ylan had given her this. Worshipping her enemy was the last free thing Susan would ever do.

Then the probes made her stop thinking.

She had just enough will left to obey them.

12.

susan kept licking the bush between the smooth thighs that held her head so gently.

she loved doing this. It was one of the few thoughts that stayed in her head for longer than it took to turn it.

It might be that stephanie was such a friendly, passive girl even for one of the toys.

It might be the exotic pallor of stephanie’s skin that the Amazons took care to protect from the sun, though she often wore bed-burn with vague pride. her pale skin and blue eyes were not rare.

There were still Amazons who came to play that wanted Earthlings to fuck. But there were so many more Earthgirls now.

This toyroom was the Queen’s. stephanie was popular with the Queen’s guests.

So was susan, not as much.

It might be the sweetness of the nectar that seeped out that so addicted susan to licking stephanie. Or the lovely cries she could bring forth from stephanie when she did that with her—ohhh . . .

susan didn’t know, and she didn’t try to think about it.

susan didn’t think a lot, or do it clearly when she did. There wasn’t much room in her mind for thoughts, with the commands that her programmers had put there.

There was a little room left in it to be sad that the Queen sometimes looked at her when She came here, but never played with her. That had been less and less room lately. susan didn’t wonder why that didn’t make her happier.

she realized she’d stopped licking stephanie’s cunt. Now she was resting her face on the redheaded whore’s belly, licking the perspiration that coated them all here in the Queen’s summer palace. Something was nice on her neck: stephanie’s fingers, making a sleepy circle.

That made susan sleepy too, and she purred happily into stephanie’s navel. stephanie bucked in slow, graceful motion, already dreaming.

susan dreamed. It always made her wake up coming, whether it was an orgy or being carried off by beautiful cruel Amazons or . . . other things.

The golden eyes made her come, but that dream didn’t let her sleep again for a while. These eyes weren’t like the other golden eyes, all the other beautiful Venerian women who were so superior to Earthsluts like her and stephanie. Not even like the Queen’s eyes, that always looked away from susan.

A hand on her ass, light and nice. she purred again and slid on stephanie’s limp form to see who stroked her.

Golden eyes, a nude girl, a native Venerian whore.

susan smiled. Whores were equal, native or alien, until Amazons chose among them, and again when the Amazons finished using them.

Golden eyes. Different. susan felt strange: usually, looking into them thrilled her pussy, dulled her wits, and made her need to obey. But not now.

“Susan?” Tentative, afraid.

Puzzling. Who feared an Earthgirl whore?

“Do you remember me?”

susan smiled. “i don’t remember a lot.” That usually made other slaves smile, and Amazons laugh.

But this one’s golden eyes were wet. “Then maybe you’re lucky, susan.”

That bothered susan, so she looked down the other woman’s athletic body to see if she were wet anywhere else. A little. she licked her lips.

“i’ve been assigned here now, to—” The other whore closed her eyes and mewed through an orgasm, but they were clear when she opened them. her voice was rougher for a moment.

“i made a terrible mistake,” she said. susan realized they were both whispering, to keep from waking stephanie. “i . . .”

susan touched the other girl’s breast, and saw surprise as well as pleasure. Also strange. Most whores expected to be touched and taken anytime. It was fun, not knowing when someone would turn you into her toy and play with your mind and body for a while.

she might be a new slave. Though new slaves, fresh from brainwashing, were usually more dazed. They sometimes giggled.

This one didn’t look like she would giggle very much. But she was nice.

“She was so angry,” the Venerian said. “i thought She’d understand, but She was so angry.”

she closed her eyes and then looked at susan again. “The conditioning tube worked perfectly on you, susan. you don’t remember much of anything, except how to please women and obey.”

When she saw susan smile, just enjoying someone saying it, she had to smile back. It was a very sad smile, susan thought. Maybe not better than no smile at all.

“It’s . . . irreversible. i wish i could give you back who you were. It’s so strange—i could like that woman now, and i don’t even think it’s because i’ve been reprogrammed.

“But i have been. Reprogrammed. This is what She willed be done to me for subverting Her subjects.” The Venerian girl paused. “She took my will but not my memories, but i’m still a slave.

“This means nothing to you, does it, susan?”

susan leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Your voice is very pretty to listen to,” susan told her.

The Venerian wept openly now, forcing the words out. “Then, if i tell you that Parriel is—Parriel is dead, that she killed herself . . . when i awakened her and she realized what i’d made her do to you . . . it isn’t going to hurt you?

“i’m the only—?”

susan leaned forward and put her arms around the other woman, and that seemed to make her cry harder, but she was nice to hold, and after a while she was still.

“i have to atone,” she said into susan’s shoulder. “i don’t know if that’s real, or if the mindbenders told me that while i was staring into the lights, but i feel i did wrong.

“Her Supremacy let me know that. She ordered that i be kept aware of what befell me and why.”

susan’s hand had drifted down to the other whore’s smooth cleft, and after a moment the other woman relaxed and let her play, tensing and fading as susan learned her.

“my name is ylan,” she whispered, after a while. susan liked the pretty word and whispered “ylan” into her ear in a special way one of the other whores had taught her.

It made ylan climax suddenly and hard. stephanie awoke and grinned at them.

Later, ylan looked at susan. “This isn’t a plea.

“When i think about her, about Parriel . . .” she searched susan’s eyes as she said the name, and something faded from her own at whatever she saw there. “. . . i think i might not deserve to get out. Not for defying the Queen, either, of course. But Parriel trusted me.

“Her Supremacy Queen Kysa told me that She would allow my release, would even reinstate me in Her guard.

“If you forgive me, susan.” ylan said that and then pulled away, and left the room where they’d lain together.

Soon, there were Amazons to please and lick. When they were done with susan and stephanie and the other whores, susan rested on a broad windowsill, looking out over the royal gardens.

she let herself be mesmerized by a matched pair of Earthgirls in harness, as they drew a ponycart through the palace grounds at a slow trot. their well-muscled bodies gleamed with sweat. One had short dark hair, and the other’s golden tresses had been braided tight to her scalp in a strange but attractive way. susan was riveted, seeing how easily the driver controlled them with just reins and quick orders, until they high-stepped away.

It was a while before susan remembered ylan. she wondered what it would be like to be harnessed to a cart, beside ylan. The sad new slave was strange enough that susan went to find her, without really knowing why.

When she did, ylan looked at her. “It really wasn’t,” she said. “A plea.”

susan smiled and shook her head and reached for her. “i know. But it doesn’t matter, ylan. you didn’t do anything wrong to me.

“i’m a slave whore in the Queen’s brothel. It’s the only place i should be. my only purpose is to obey and be fucked and be pleasing.

“So i can’t forgive you. There’s nothing to forgive you for.” she looked into the lovely golden eyes, as they filled with knowledge she knew she could never comprehend.

“Can i eat you out instead?”

ylan’s eyes and pussy both moistened. susan knelt to tend to the more important.