The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I moistened my lips with a taste of Vermouth Cassis, resting the glass carefully back on the uneven table, and wrapped my fingers along its cold edge to keep it from spilling. Distorted lights played along its rim, and I watched it with lazy eyes as I settled back in a funky Victorian settee, refurbished in an eclectic mix of patterned fabrics. The after-work crowd was ebbing away slowly, replaced by the first swarm of evening patrons, girls grouped in twos and threes, out for a night of drinks and fun. Conversations formed a low buzz around me, and I caught snippets of it as my foot thumped the weathered terra cotta tile floor, to the beat of slight impatience.

Fling was a classy place, and a godsend to any girl who hated the hassle of guesswork that came with catching the eye of a lady at mainstream clubs. Its lure had been an instant draw for me, a place that reinvented itself from one night to the next, without frightening the usual clientele away with the occasional influx of women attracted by a well advertised special event. Tanya and I religiously a kept pair of appointments to the place every week, one for the mindless fun that possessed us to a techno beat on dance night, and another for the more cozy, romantic ambiance that ruled the Thursday evenings.

My eyes wandered, glancing out through the double-height, floor-to-ceiling windows and the street stretching past it, before veering back inside, up the faux timbered ceiling obscured by a haze of gray cigarette smoke, all along the mezzanine, and back down to the massive oak bar on my left. Tanya’s recognizable dash of red hair hadn’t caught my eye yet, so I scanned the crowd for the shape of her silhouette instead, and almost jumped out of my pumps when Justine appeared next to me, breathless and fluid, lowering herself gently on the seat next to mine, a siren riding the crest of a wave that carried her upon a flat, sandy beach.

Her wink snapped me out of my surprise. “Don’t stare, dearie, but I think I just lost you a drink from table two.”

I managed a smile, feeling a sudden flush. Her flawless mascara enhanced the familiar beauty of her features, but her wide-set eyes seemed even more gorgeous under a touch of liner and semi-matte. She ran her arm along the backrest, and nudged her shoulder against mine.

“How did you know—”

“I was in consultation when you called the clinic. Tried reaching you but your cell must have been off. I gave Tanya a holler and she told me she was meeting you here later tonight.”

I gave a tense nod as she slid her leg against mine, my stomach churning while I reminded myself why things were over between us. This time, I only had to lower my gaze, and catch the shape of her breasts, barely contained by the tight cups of the outrageous little lycra number she wore. It was prudishly covered by a slightly open double-breasted jacket, but my vantage point assured me a privileged view.

A mixture of arousal mingled to obscure my thoughts for a moment. Sensing it, she leaned over, propping an elbow on the table next to my drink, and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. Her follow-up drew envious stares from a passing brunette, as she vamped me with an alluring pout, blowing me a kiss that tingled all the way down my toes.

I raised my glass and gulped a mouthful. Cinzano sizzled warmly down my chest, and I winced like a freshman trying to cope with her first shot. I looked about guiltily, worried that Tanya might suddenly drop in on us, and nudged myself away from Justine a little.

“Off to another night at Surrender?” I gathered.

Justine’s pout became playfully wicked as her hands loosened the lapels of her jacket. The streetlights drifted from outside, to wash over the black reflective curves, swooping down her barely covered breasts. She caressed them casually with a finger, the fire-red color of her nail commanding all of my attention.

“You know, you and Tanya have a standing invitation. I’ll even leave you two so you can enjoy some ‘private’ fun... You should really think about taking me up on it sometime.”

I giggled nervously, and reached once again for my glass, while memories of my first and only venture into the shadowed halls of the exclusive D/s club gave way to a mental picture of Tanya and I, collared and buxom in sleek leather harnesses, led about by a mysterious Domme bearing a covetous smile.

“Hmm... honestly, I don’t think Tanya could handle it.”

It was good to have an excuse. I didn’t have to worry much about racy thoughts that ran a luscious thrill up my spine, or the flush that swam downwards, under my cashmere sweater and bra. My soft-skinned derriere remembered the slash of leather, my wrists ached for the tightness of restraints, and I flushed with deep, red embarrassment.

Justine narrowed the distance between us once again, and I wondered what was keeping me from putting my foot down. Tanya would be here any minute. She’d smell her all over me.

She offered counsel offhandedly. “All you have to do is teach her, dearie. She’ll love it if you teach her properly.”

I swallowed hard, trying to make something of the cryptic glimmer in her eye. Seemed like I had more and more trouble reading her when she joked, as of late. She made me forget to worry about it when she dabbed the tip of my nose impishly.

“Have you seen Sheryl lately?”

She straightened a little as I abruptly changed the subject, and then made a silent ahh, leaving the question hanging in the air. A jazzy riff of electric guitar filled the seconds that trailed by.

“So that’s why you called this afternoon?”

I shrugged, dropping any effort to deny it, and hoping that my casual indifference appeared genuine. “I have a couple of prints ready for that exhibit at Memorial Hall. I haven’t been able to get in touch with her, and I was hoping you could let her know so she can make a final selection.”

It was part of Sheryl’s job, as senior assistant in the City’s Arts Commissioner’s office. She had been a trusting gal from the moment we met, all smiles and touches, completely oblivious to the giddiness that made me float about on the tip of my toes as she led me by the arm to the Atrium where I was to hold my very first city-sponsored exhibit. Cindy always told me I fell fast and hard, but with Sheryl, it wasn’t just about looks-she radiated intelligence, honesty and grace, a woman in charge of herself, beautiful, sexy, free in every sense of the word.

I had died a little when she first spoke in a dreamy voice of marriage and kids. Weeks of denying what I suspected already had only made the pain harsher.

It took me a year and five exhibits for me to hint at my bedside preferences, an innocent turn of the conversation over Long-island ice teas and a shrimp platter. I had just started seeing Justine then-Sheryl had met her at a vernissage. Maybe a safe commitment to someone else was the reason I had waited that long to tell her. My uncaring attitude towards other people’s opinion didn’t seem to apply to her. I wanted her to be comfortable around me.

Maybe having to write her off in my mind way back was the reason I had a hard time believing Cindy when she told me she had seen Sheryl sharing drinks and kisses with Justine.

I could feel myself coloring slightly at the thought. Cindy was one to turn gossip into a communicable illness, but she never, ever embellished. She confessed to being surprised herself, but I had a leg up on her with the onset of doubt, and the unease that came after misreading something so basic.

Justine must have known I had been clued in, her wink full of innuendo. “Right, dearie, I’ll tell her tonight, then. She made good on my suggestion. I still can’t believe she wants to come with me.”

I put my glass down a little too hard.

“She’s-going with you...to the club?”

Justine nodded, immensely proud of herself.

“That’s not really her game, Justine,” I pointed out neutrally.

“You mean women, or latex-clad women?”

“Both. Either. Whatever.”

Justine cocked her head to one side, as if to ponder her response. She gave her surroundings a glance, and trailed a shapely waitress passing by, gracefully holding up a tray cluttered with half-emptied glasses. Her smile grew wistful and appreciative.

“Sorry to tell you this, dearie, but it was Sheryl’s idea.”

Her tone was flat. I didn’t know what angered me more: blushing under the contempt in her voice, or realizing the arrogant presumption of my position.

I stammered. “All I know is people don’t change overnight. She may be curious, but...”

Justine returned her inscrutable gaze to me. “I’m not out for cheap thrills, Maya. That hurts both ways, doesn’t it?”

My lips sealed themselves, and I looked away when the pain of our breakup rushed back and twisted my insides up.

It had been short for me—I met Tanya right after we split. Justine wanted us to remain friends, and somehow we did. She told me how happy she was to know I had found somebody who was right for me, and sometimes I still wondered how hard that had been for her.

The pangs of worry always followed, when I heard about how she dove into her work, juggling funding for two projects in collaboration with the Neurosurgery department at two local hospitals... running a clinic at the same time...

Damn. Who was I to bitch about a turn for the better in her life?

I opened my mouth to apologize, but lost my voice when Tanya stepped out of the crowd, an angel wearing a fiery red crown. She slalomed past a trio of chatty blondes, flanked by two waitresses, and beamed happily when she saw Justine sitting next to me.

She leaned over the table. Quick peck on Justine’s cheek, followed by a lingering, soft kiss on my lips.

“Hey there lover. What’re you two up to?”

Justine’s perfume filled my head. I squeezed Tanya’s hand to snap myself out of a sudden daze.

Justine withdrew her arm from behind me, treating this as her cue. “Sorry girls, I really do have to be off.”

Her voice matched Tanya’s carefree enthusiasm. She padded my hand innocently as she rose from her seat, and approached Tanya for a quick hug. I polished off the rest of my drink, and watched her take off a moment later, easing into Tanya as she cuddled her way down next to me.

My head rose and fell against Tanya’s midriff. I ran my leg against hers, and she shivered inside the large futon. Moonlight flooded down from the skylight, bathing her skin in a pale halo. Her fingers brushed strands of my hair, stroking down the back of my neck like a warm trickle. The pounding rush of our lovemaking had dwindled to an afterglow, the steady, rhythmic sound of our breathing warming the air around us.

“I... can’t put my finger on it.”

Her silvery laugh vanished into the darkness, and I joined her once the double entente occurred to me. Then, Tanya’s fingers slid up again, around my neck, this time going over my lips. I kissed them, and welcomed the flare of pleasure glowing down below.

“You shouldn’t worry, love.”

Even in whispers, the surrounding space returned our words with an echo. I felt an urge to heed her counsel and ease my eye towards the angular shadows of my canvases, propped up on easels beyond the circle of light. A nagging voice inside me refused to let it go.

“I’m not... worried. It’s just that I though I had pegged Sheryl... or thought I did...”

Tanya hushed my concerns away with another caress, and I curled my toes when the flare became a silky wind that magically sunk between my closed thighs. Her head rested comfortably against the pillow as she watched over me.

I looked up and her expression flooded my mind with that first memory I had of her, dandling a leg over her knee as she settled her expresso down with one hand, and held up a worn copy of Thoreau with the other... that sudden, arresting feeling that made me forget Justine, Sheryl, the coffee shop, the whole world all at once... the hope of my glance at seeing that empty chair beside her... the transparent shock that showed in my widening eyes as she looked up over the tiny round glasses resting on her tiny nose... the way her flick of the finger became so devilish as she turned a page, grinning at me...

The nagging voice grew reproachful. Obsessing over Justine going out with my unrequired crush was bad enough, but whining about it to Tanya was a stab our relationship didn’t deserve.

I snuggled closer to her, trying to shun out a strange feeling of guilt. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I don’t mind. I understand how you must feel.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. She was trying to say something. I swallowed a reply, giving her time to speak.

“Is Sheryl... like... I mean... is she...?”

I met her eyes, shrugged, and found myself giggling despite myself when her eyebrow boinged inquisitively.

“Well... I dunno... maybe she was into chocolate all these years, and decided she wanted to try it with women.”

“Hey,” Tanya cried in mock protest, “What does that make us? Vanilla?”

I chuckled again, blowing soft kisses on her hip. She shifted under me, and I felt raw excitement scurrying all over her skin.

I gave her a long, sensual lick. “I loooooove vanilla.”

Mischief filled her stunning eyes. She enticed me with a lengthy stare. Her voice became a charming whisper.

“Maybe... we could... sometime...”

The last syllable died in an almost painful whisper when I froze. She made a face, and looked away. The sudden awkwardness surged like a barrier between us.

“Tanya,” I began, recovering.

She tensed under me. " It was just an idea.”

“No... It’s ok. You don’t have to worry.” I could swear it was another voice speaking, and thankfully it wasn’t filled with utter disbelief. The familiar, embarrassing thrill returned, and the feel of Tanya’s naked body against mine made it impossible to ignore.

I gave her navel a playful lick, and breathed a secret sigh of relief when her limbs eased back onto the sheets. Recollections flashed back in reverse as I dwelled on the suggestion while excitement and hesitancy struggle for control.

I hadn’t dwelled on my time with Justine much in the aftermath. My only comfort before Tanya had consisted of late nights on the phone with Cindy, who opinionated with that fatalistic streak of hers that cool, empirical tempers never matched an artiste’s very well.

It was sideline advice, without a basis in fact, but I had accepted it, rather than telling Cindy how things had evolved between Justine and I... how the amusement of our first few times together gradually vanished as nights went by... how scared I became when I finally realized how serious the game was for me... and how I might not want it to end, and be free again.

Tanya surged up against me, my nipples throbbing against the feel of her. The rush making me lightheaded.

“How long?”

“Have I thought about it?”

She made a soft moan when I lashed her with my tongue.

“I... I’m not sure... I knew about you and Justine... I guess that’s how it started. But I didn’t want to bring it up...”

My lips continued to brush against her. I silenced the doubts rising up inside me for having been so blind to all this-again!-and began to shape my thoughts into the picture I was so reluctant to paint.

This time, I couldn’t resist a groan. My legs twitched under me, and a tingle buzzed around my clit. The secret excitement in her voice was making me wet.

She sounded vulnerable, curious and willing, all at once.

Her hands moved slowly, curving up and around the shape of her breasts. She began to play with her nipples in long circular strokes, refusing to pinch them, letting the rising fog numb her mind to anything but pleasure. My tongue glided closer to her cleft, and I saw her moistening arousal, waiting for me to taste it.

The hush of her voice drifted to me. “ohhhhh... please...“

I heard it then... spoken in that instant of silence... as clear as the first time I knelt between Justine’s legs, blinded by the revelation, the need to play along and say it aloud-

Mistress.

I blew hotly on her skin, reeling from the lust of that thought sliding slowly, like fingers inside my snatch. I worked my ass against an imaginary hand, filled with a dark urge to possess her.

She wanted to be mine... her limbs, her body craved it... her eyes, fixed upon me, brimmed with unspeakable yearning. Was it like this for Justine?

I gave her pussy a nice, soft kiss. She cried out, and I almost climaxed.

That inner voice who had surrendered to Justine ascended from the far reaches of my soul. I closed my eyes as it cried out inside me, with words that had been my very own... Mistress likes to lick my cunt... Mistress loves to make sluts cum in Her mouth... She loves to take their minds away... She loves to hear them beg to be Her slaves...

My tongue lunged inside her. I could not tell where her pleasure ended and mine began. I rubbed her clit fiercely with one hand, while the fingers of the other slipped under me and stroked the fire of my own cunt. No thought would form above the voice that spoke for Tanya.

I felt her jerk once, twice. Her moans rose to a fevered pitch, and I came when her pussy gushed onto my tongue.

<click>

Hi. You’ve reached Sheryl Denner’s number. Unfortunately, Sheryl isn’t here right now. Sheryl is gone. Sheryl is now a servant of Mistress. she pleasures Her. she worships Her in all things. she is very happy with this. Soon, Mistress will come and take Her slut away. Her slut can’t wait for the moment when she will be made to kneel before Mistress and pledge her eternal allegiance to Her, always by Her side, always ready to taste Her divine essence as a reward for her unwavering obedience... always... alwaaays... mmmm... yeeeeessss-

<beep>

Sheryl, pick up the phone! Pick it up! I left six messages since yesterday! I called your office and they said you resigned two days ago! Cindy told me you’re moving! What the hell is going on over there? I hope you can hear this... don’t leave the apartment... I’m coming over right away!

<click>

To hear those things, night after night. To repeat them like a chant in my mind as I make love to Tanya. To hear them, and to feel myself grow weak in the knees just to think of them. To feel her over me. Under me. Sweet Tanya. Loving. Trusting. Begging, softly, once I tell her she must do as I say. Sweet Tanya, giving herself to me, always. Without reservation.

Less than a week, and I was turning her into a complete sub. Or she was turning me into a total Domme. I didn’t really think on it much.

I was alone in the studio when the phone receiver whispered Sheryl’s depraved recording in my ear. Warm colors were drying on a canvas nearby, a jumble of curves arranged in a shocking theme that had me pull all the windows up for a cool breeze to keep me relaxed until Tanya showed up.

I shielded myself against the uproar of city traffic by cupping the side of my head with the other hand.

The same voice. The same plea. The same dark need to give in.

The chant that had once been my own.

I scrambled for my car keys.

Fifth street, past Lexington.

Fourth block to the left. Second floor. Door 206.

I arrived precipitously, my ears ringing with the shrill of klaxons.

Sheryl was home. I gave a prayer of thanks as I heard the footsteps coming from behind the door.

She opened it with a smile, steeping back to allow me in. I hopped in and immediately closed it behind me, turning the locks with frantic haste when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to bother. She took measured steps that led me to her living room, glancing back every to make sure I followed.

Her eyes were alert, her expression blithe and cheerful.

I tried to speak but she shook her head silently, begging my indulgence. I was suddenly, acutely aware of the satin kimono she wore, and the soft ripples traveling up and down the shape of her backside. I swallowed hard when the hem flew above her knee for an instant, as she twirled sharply and faced me.

I looked about. The couch, walled units, and prints she had bought from me were nowhere to be seen. The roman shades I remembered hanging over the windows had been taken down. A treacherous flash brought me back to heated and lonely nights, before Justine and Tanya, when I dreamed of a night of passion in this very place, candles and wine forming the prelude to amorous delights that would leave Sheryl with a new, deeper understanding of the love women could share.

Now, cardboard boxes hastily piled in one corner remained the only visible feature in the otherwise empty space around us.

I fought to come out of my reverie. “Sheryl...”

She undid the sash at her waist in one, fluid motion. The fabric ran off her skin like water, exposing her shapely bust in all its magnificence. She observed me with a radiant glow while I gaped downwards, despite myself. The semi-transparent thong she wore covered her mound tightly, and I could see she was shaved on both sides, leaving the thinnest trail of duvet to crown the pretty, glistening wetspot forming below.

A soft sigh escaped her lips when she knelt before me. She ran a hand through her thick hair, her mouth parting open, her body quivering with lustful wants. “Ooohh... Maya... sooo glad you came...”

I stood there, trying very hard not to imagine why.

“Sheryl,” I began carefully, “What’s happening? Where are you going?”

A quizzical glance marred her angelic features for the briefest of instants. “With Mistress of course.”

“Of course,” I repeated dully.

Her lustful smile returned. " She’ll come for me soon... I’ve already made all the arrangements...

“She has use of me you see? She showed me my true purpose in life. I’m so happy now.”

Her hand ran up and down her tights, teasingly. She giggled when her finger began stroking her pussy through the thong, soaking it up with her juices.

“W-what true purpose?”

I wanted to take the question back as soon as her other hand rose to her breasts. She cradled one, her fingers pressing her firm flesh. Her moans, so passionate, so honest in the articulation of her arousal, coiled like a snake around my struggling conscience, while she lost herself in her sluttish display.

“Please Maya... let me show you...”

I fled the warmth of her stare, terrified of what I would answer if I held it. Crazy thoughts fused from all sides while I concentrated to kept the room from spinning. I thought of Tanya again, hoping to anchor myself on the remembrance of my happiness with her, but the visions of her nascent submission to me only fed the fire between my legs.

I strove to remember why I didn’t want to be here, now, with her, like this.

“Sheryl... I...”

Oh God...

She was crawling on all fours, purring. Her pleading eyes captured me.

“Mistress wants me to please other women... She taught me how to serve them... I want you so bad Maya... I think always have... Mistress showed me that... she showed me so many things...“

She crawled nearer still. My legs were frozen. I was dripping, watching her move towards me.

“Stop,” I implored pathetically.

She settled before me and reached out to caress my ankle. Her fingertips trembled in passion as they flowed on my skin. Her head dipped, and she kissed my feet, making sure to arch her ass up in the air.

A dark frisson surged up right into my clit.

It’s not her... it’s not Sheryl... something else... maybe-

“This... this is wrong... Sheryl, please don’t...”

“I want to taste you,” Sheryl breathed, staring up again, her eyes moist as she prayed for me to let her. “I live only for Mistress... Her pleasure is yours... your pleasure... is... miiiine...”

She nuzzled my crotch and I gasped. My hands, refusing to obey, reached out and stroked her hair as she quivered, the orgasm rippling sweetly inside her.

Mistress?

She climaxed again when I made her tell me.

The klaxons shrilled once again. This time my hands grappled the steering wheel to keep from shaking.

Impossibility meant nothing next to evidence gathered with my own eyes.

My mouth twisted in a silent scream.

I had loved Justine blindly, never aware of the monstrous thoughts lurking deep inside her, warping the very things that made her human, erasing her sense of duty towards her profession, until she grew perverted enough to engineer an unspeakable process and carry it out upon an helpless victim.

The cruel reminded struck deeper when I remembered how my circle of friends had become Justine’s, and how Sheryl had paid the price for it.

I burst into the private clinic. The secretary scrambled after me, but I was already past her and barging in the office. Justine was sitting behind a sleek, metal desk, draped in a white lab coat, taking notes on a pad. She froze before raising her eyes, acknowledging my presence with a measure of apathy while I huffed and clenched my hands into fists.

She pointed to the door that lead to the examination room. “Would you mind waiting for a moment? I’ve got someone—”

“I wanted to call the police,” I spat, “I really did... but that might interfere with the steps you have to take in order to undo whatever harm you did to Sheryl.”

Justine rested her pen carefully, and shook her head with a sight. “You didn’t call the police because you knew how this would sound-bad on the phone, and even worse in person. You’re practically hysterical.”

The secretary pounced forward and interposed herself between Justine and I. “Should I call security?” she called over her shoulder. .

Justine made herself reassuring. “Don’t worry, Christine. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Her hostile glare remained on me a moment before she left us. I waited for the door to close behind me, and the reflex made anger surge anew inside me.

Worried she might overhear? I should be screaming at the top of my lungs!

I leveled a finger at Justine. “You... conditioned Sheryl somehow... you messed with her head—”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Justine cut in sharply, “nothing at all. She’s playing along and enjoying herself. Maybe she’s indulging in her part a little too much.”

The sound of disappointment rang subtly in her voice, heavy with consequence. The Mistress, showing her true face? Displeased by the slip of her slave? Her mouth was draw into a thin, pale line, and the chill it gave me made me step backwards.

I struggled to keep an image of Sheryl in my head. I needed to focus on her... kneeling, helpless... mindfucked.

“Forget it, Justine. I was over at her apartment. She’s... something else now. I saw it in her eyes.”

I could still feel Sheryl against me... trembling as she leaned against me... not enamored but consumed with the idea of serving me... of pressing her lips against me...

Venomous rage poured from my eyes. Justine adopted a reflective stance, before something like resignation caused her shoulders to slump.

“I was toying with the idea of negating the programming, if only to test the resilience of her new imprint. It’s theoretically possible... I’ve only taken her to mid-stage, and her current patterns haven’t permanently settled yet. I’m sure I could still salvage part of her original personality, but I’ll be honest, Maya...”

Her mouth slipped into a dark grin.

“I don’t think Sheryl would let me.”

Her admission tightened like a knot inside me. Appalling. Frank.

Casual.

The buzz words she used spun around in my mind, implying things I couldn’t bear contemplating. I imagined Sheryl, restrained in a chamber of horrors, struggling to free herself until a twisted contraption made her want to become whatever Justine wished.

I fought for control. “You’re so twisted you can’t even see you’re buying into your own propaganda. Whatever you made Sheryl into, she would never, ever have wanted this done to her.”

Justine scoffed as she rose from the chair, turning the corner of her desk and leaning against it.

She was grinning as she punched a button on her desk intercom.

Her words refused to go away. “Christine? Fetch my patient in room three, please?”

I watched as Tanya stepped meekly into the office a minute later, and floated next to Justine, quietly allowing her to slide a hand around her waist. Her smile grew more pleased as Justine hand’s roamed a little, her cheeks flushing with obvious delight.

She seemed happy to witness my shock, while Justine’s eyes merely mocked me. Don’t tell me you’re that slow.

“Tanya certainly wouldn’t let me turn her back into what she was. She’s been coming into my office every day, anxious for me to take her as far as Sheryl. I’m sure you’ve already enjoyed some of the changes I’ve made in her...”

With a pat on her head, Tanya kneeled down smoothly, without hesitation. Hers was the same sigh I had heard from Sheryl’s quivering lips.

“Tell us how happy you are, dearie,” Justine prompted, with the smile of a child showing off her favorite doll.

Tanya looked up at me, overwhelmed by the elation of being allowed to acknowledge her own enslavement. “I’ve never been so happy Mistress... I’m so glad You made me realize just how much I needed to be owned... how much I needed to surrender to the sound of Your voice...

“It feels sooo good Maya... I swear... my cunt is so fucking wet... I can’t disobey Her... I... I don’t want to... I want to be just like Sheryl... Mistress says I won’t have to wait for long... She says she’ll turn me into a slut just like her... it makes me so hot just thinking about it...”

I glared back at Justine, wading through delirium. I caught a hint of melancholy in her eyes.

“That’s very good,” Justine complemented her. “Now, tell us how happy Maya will be once I teach her how good it feels to be owned.”

Tanya bolted upright like a sprinter at the crack of a pistol. Her hands clasped around my wrists in an iron hold, yanking me forward and pulling me off balance. For a instant, I was mesmerized by the horrible joy in her eyes, the wicked torrent of lust that came to her as she struggled to pull me down.

I sucked in a deep breath, the terrified scream waiting urgently on my lips. I coughed most of it up in a choke when Justine sprayed a vaporous cloud in my face from a dispenser bottle she had quickly snatched out of the hip pocket of her lab coat. I fought to gather a second breath, feeling my head reel as the acrid smell invaded my lungs. I wasn’t really aware that Tanya was holding me up until my legs wobbled and gave out under me.

Justine held up the dispenser over my face, and gave me another generous dose of the spray. I inhaled all of it this time. The room spun wildly around me.

Nooooo...

I felt Tanya’s breath against my neck. I tried wrapping my arms around her. I couldn’t think anymore. The floor was rocketing up towards me.

I wanted her to save me. I couldn’t remember what I wanted to be saved from.

She said I was going to be very happy.

The Spiral became my universe.

Its elaboration was a marvel to behold. i watched raptly, letting it fill me with need, obedience and purpose... a scalpel of light, dancing in my brain, slicing away until my thoughts were reshaped to an order of things I already knew...

i love it when Mistress licks my cunt... i love to cum in Mistress’ mouth... i love it when Mistress takes my mind away... i love to beg... i want to become Her slave...

i shuddered against the leather snaking around my shoulders, ankles and wrists. A thousand prickles like ants around the needles inserted in my oiled skin. A distant voice echoed from beyond the spiral, and i breathed in harsh gasps when it spoke:

“Preliminary imprint phase complete... Move on to modular conditioning...

“Adequate subject response to modular conditioning... begin second imprint phase...”

The Spiral whirlpooled faster and faster. i couldn’t look away. Shades of red exploded in my eyes, crimson, dark and pale all at once, blending with greens and blues and splashes of maroon. Tears of joy flowed from down my cheeks as the pretty lights sucked my will away. my legs tensed sharply against the restraints, a rising wave of pleasure swelling inside me. The flow of air around me was warm against my slick mound.

“Third imprint phase complete... evaluating subject response...”

i tumbled deeper into the swirl of lights, the awareness of giving myself to Mistress making me squirm. my numb fingers ached for the freedom to slide into my cunt. The denial of my need only made me crave obedience even more. Leather screamed against the metal frame upon which i was suspended.

There was no pain when the Spiral was snuffed out by the darkness, only the shiver of relief growing into a sultry moan as the Truth of the Spiral remained with me.

Need.

Obedience.

Purpose.

The Spiral lived inside me, filling all the empty places in my head with undying love of Mistress.

i closed my eyes and quivered... such pretty... pretty lights...

The distant voice spoke with awe. “she is ready, Mistress.”

“Very good, dearie.”

my body screamed in glorious approval, blissful tremors wracking through me. i am the will of Mistress made flesh... i am Hers to do as she pleases... She is the brightest, shining star of my heaven...

i drooled when She emerged from the dark. Her hands, wrapped in shining latex up to Her elbows, followed the divine sway of Her hips. i caught my breath, trying to speak... i struggled and moaned.

She held me spellbound with the power of Her eyes... and they betrayed a touch of evil amusement when She lowered them and settled upon my open, dripping pussy, gathering my juices with Her playing fingers.

i begged Her to lick them clean, and gushed all over Her hand when the burning fervor of my own voice made me drown in sweet pleasure.

The taste of my lust for Her was sweeter still.

There was nothing left for me to remember.

we were Hers now. we converged. we came as She willed. When She willed.

The floor hurt under my knees, but sherylslut’s mouth grinded hard against my clit, and another prayer of thanks to Mistress was consumed in the orgasmic fire of my climax. she squealed under me as my tights pressed against the sides of her head, and i knew she was cumming too.

To pleasure a slave is to pleasure Mistress. To pleasure Mistress is pure, perfect bliss.

i relented in my own act of worship for a mere instant. Somewhere, beyond the pedestal and the light that circled it, Mistress fathomed strange, irresistible tasks for us to undertake. In the glorious wait for Her summons, my eyes swam in the silver of the strand of saliva hanging off my bottom lip, trailing up to the smooth roundness of tanyaslut’s ass.

i felt her stagger over me on unsteady legs, and instantly renewed my oral assault. she leaned back into me, spreading wide with an ecstatic groan, quivering around my intrusive tongue.

Mistress enjoyed it when i thanked tanyaslut for her help in enslaving me... almost as much as i did.

sherylslut’s horny little mouth was as tireless as mine. The unending string of mind-numbing orgasms stretched before us. We strove on, our limbs the manifestation of our lustful designs.

my thoughts shifted to Cindy as i breathed deeply, noting that the air around us was still laced with an acrid smell.

She had been a bad little girl, that one... pestering Mistress incessantly as she unwittingly tried to turn us away from Her glory. Fortunately, she had inhaled deeply while all three of us held her down. She had slipped into oblivion to the sound of her own fading screams, and we had labored to strap her up in the Device before Mistress rewarded us with the joy of Communion.

Now, the Spiral owned Cindy... and soon, so would Mistress.

A firestorm of passion erupted inside me... rushing forth up my tongue... between my legs... the rising resplendence of servitude overtook my senses, spreading to my sisters as we waited for another slave to join Mistress’ side, knowing the infinite rapture that was already ours...

‘cindyslut’ had such a lovely ring to it.