The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Prologue

“My cunt is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.” Said Abbey.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Asked her husband.

Abbey gripped at Robert’s wrist and tugged him out through their front door. Dumbfounded, Robert could only allow himself to be led across the street and into the white house that stood shaded in the darkening evening. His wife hadn’t even paused to cover up her chemise.

Inside, an unfamiliar woman sat in a high-backed chair that could only be described as a throne. Prostrate at her feet was a woman Robert saw was their neighbour, Caity—nude but for a pair of black heels. He struggled to comprehend the sight before him. Was they all losing their minds?

“I … I don’t … Abbey, what’s happening?” He pleaded with her, but she ignored him.

The strange woman looked up at him and smiled.

“Slut?” She said.

Caity raised her head.

“Yes Mistress?”

“Remember your instructions for tonight. You may begin.”

“Yes Mistress.” Caity stood and strode towards Robert. He saw only a dark lust in her eyes.

Only after he had mindlessly orgasmed into Caity’s tight sheath did Robert’s senses flood back to him. Mortified, he threw her away from him and struggled to his feet. He had been faithful to his wife for seven years, had never even looked at another woman since they had begun dating. Shame and confusion reeled through his mind.

Whilst he had lost himself to his basest impulses, Abbey had taken Caity’s place at the feet of the red-headed woman. Now naked herself, his wife sat on her knees as the stranger whispered into her ear. Abbey pulled languidly on her hard nipples as she listened. Robert desperately tried to gain her attention.

“Abbey! Abbey, please! What’s happening? I don’t—I—” He faltered.

The woman turned her gaze to him, and slowly, gracefully stood up. She wore a long robe of luxurious chartreuse. It hung open, allowing a sliver of bare skin from neck to thigh to shine pale in the candlelight. She placed one hand on Abbey’s head.

“Hello, Robert. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Mistress Sarah.”

“What have you done to my wife?”

“I opened her eyes and let her discover what she desires most in life. And she discovered that her true desire is to serve me.”

“But … how … why have you done this?”

Sarah smiled. “Because I have a very high sex drive. Insatiable, you might say. Because your wife is fucking hot. And I do so enjoy having her at my feet.”

“I really was only interested in Abbey. But you’ll be pleased to hear she still loves you very much, despite my programming. So to have her, I’ll have to have you as well. Fortunately, men are so much easier than women.”

As if on cue, Abbey moved. She crawled to Robert. He grabbed her by the shoulders and frantically tried to roust her, but she was oblivious. She pulled down his trousers. Sarah spoke again.

“You see, it takes some time to break down the will of a woman, even if she secretly yearns to submit. Men, on the other hand …”

Abbey lapped at the juices of her best friend that still glistened all over her husband’s prick. God help him, he began to rise again.

“My words have power, Robert.” Continued Sarah, as he felt Caity press into him from behind. She unbuttoned his shirt and began stroking his chest as his wife sucked him onto her tongue.

Sarah loomed closer now to fill his vision, as Caity began whispering into his ear. Robert tried and failed to wrench his eyes away from the bewitching red-heads’ penetrating gaze. He tried and failed to drink in Caity’s words, repeating over and over.

“Your body belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

“Your mind belongs to Mistress Sarah.”

“Your cock is for Mistress Sarah and her alone.”

Pinned like an insect in a web, trapped between the joyful pleasure of his wife’s lascivious mouth, the seductive whisper of Caity’s chanting, and Mistress Sarah’s overwhelming eyes, Robert fell all too quickly. Soon he was droning aloud himself, his eyes turning to glass, the words rewiring his weakening brain.

“Now Robert, when you orgasm again, speaking these words, you will know them as your singular truth.” Commanded Sarah.

“And Abbey Slut, take it slowly. Make it last as long as he can stand.”

When she was assured the couple could be left to their own devices for a spell, Sarah turned her attention to Caity.

“Come with me now, Caity Slut. I think I need a little something myself after all this exertion. But first, tell me—who’s next?”

X

Night had fallen, and the air was cold, by the time Anne left the parking garage of her firm. She was glad to be in the warm cocoon of her car, and speeding her way home. John could tuck in Erica tonight. She was looking forward to a glass of wine and a long, hot bath after such a trying week.

Managing her office and raising a young child at the same time was proving to be more difficult than she had hoped it to be. Anne often wondered if she had returned to her career too soon, but money was always an issue for her and her husband, even with both their incomes. And both were needed if they wanted to live in such an expensive, desirable neighbourhood as the Wynford Estate.

It had been Anne’s idea to move there. It seemed like a wonderful place for the couple and their newborn girl. Now, a couple of years later, she wasn’t so sure. The mortgage payments on the house were high, and it really was just far too big for only the three of them. It would be a sparse, draughty place for many years until they had more children, if they ever did. The couple struggled to find time together as it was, their jobs taking up so much of their lives.

More than anything however, Anne had begun to feel more than a little besieged by her neighbours. She was not a particularly social person, preferring to spend her precious free moments with her husband and little girl. In the past few months though, the sense of community spirit that had always pervaded Wynford had seemed to have blossomed into something more like a community mania. Almost every evening, this woman or that couple wanted to drag Anne and John off to one house or another for a social gathering.

Robert and Abbey Meachum were hosting a dinner. The widowed Caity Left asked her to join her for a spa day. The newest arrival, Joanne, wanted everyone to join her and her husband for a late night party. Allison begged her to visit and try out her expensive indoor pool. Weekends seemed to be spent at one or other of their homes. Anne had so far found polite excuses for each of their propositions. The only one of her neighbours who seemed to share her reticence for social engagements was the woman who lived alone in the white house in the middle of the street. Anne thought her name was Sarah.

Anne neatly parked her car and started towards her door. She noticed the short, strikingly attractive woman she recognised as Rochelle walking along the street towards her. She decided to stop and be sociable, at least for a moment anyway.

“Hello, Rochelle! How are you?” Anne said.

Rochelle kept on walking as though she hadn’t heard her. Anne blinked and watched her walk slowly away. She realised the young woman was walking away from her house, not to it. And even on this cold winter night, she was wasn’t wearing a coat. Anne shivered and hurried into her own home.

Over dinner that evening, whilst little Erica burped and giggled, Anne asked her husband’s opinion.

“You need to put yourself out there, darling. Just go with the flow sometimes. You always need to be in control.” He explained.

Anne considered this, and thought perhaps he had a point.

XI

The air was close and sultry in the Burgess bedroom. Joanne lay sweating, her nightdress stuck to her skin. She had purposefully cranked up the radiator before slipping under the covers, all the better to complete her appointed task.

She was alert even at this late hour, listening intently to her husband’s slow, steady breathing. She felt certain that the Lunesta she had slipped into his evening meal must have taken full effect by now. Feeling excitement in her chest and a clamminess between her legs that wasn’t only perspiration, Joanne wished that she could touch herself, relieve herself before she began. Mistress had given her strict instructions however. Until she had fulfilled her goal, her own pleasure was to be denied. All the more reason to begin.

Turning towards him, Joanne gently shook her husband’s shoulder. He didn’t respond. A slightly harder shake. Assured he would not wake up, she pulled him over until he lay on his back, his torso glistening with sweat. She stole a hand beneath the covers. She stroked a single finger up and down his manhood, allowing him grow tumescent, feeling him stir slightly as he did. Joanne held her breath and watched. He remained lost in slumber. Circling around the tip of his prick now, she anointed him with his own arousal. Soon he was even unconsciously rocking his hips, trying to garner a little more pressure on his shaft. When he was completely erect, she began to relentlessly, mechanically manipulate him with only the very tips of her fingers.

She pressed her body into his side and listened to his grunting. Leaning in even further, she began breathing into his ear the words she had been ordered to memorise and repeat.

“Only Mistress Sarah can let you come … Mistress Sarah owns you … Only Mistress Sarah can let you come … Mistress Sarah owns you …”

It would only be a matter of a couple of nights, Mistress had assured her. When his conscious mind was clouded with arousal, when he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, Joanne would deny him. When he could no longer stand it, when he was frantic and begging for release, Joanne was to bring her husband to her. And once he had given in and broken his wedding vows, once he had spilled his seed in submission, and once Joanne had used her mouth to clean it all up, then maybe, just maybe, Mistress Sarah would allow her to come.

She shivered with anticipation at the thought, and kept on chanting.

XII

After that peculiar evening incident with Rochelle, Anne begun to worry her reticence had offended every single woman on the street. Little moments built up in the back of her mind. The way the curvy brunette home-maker Lillith seemed to ignore her entirely when Anne said hello to her one evening. She had marched right on by. Anne caught Caity and Abbey holding hands, oblivious to her, as they walked down the street. Small moments of strangeness like those seemed to suggest Anne was now on the outside, no longer invited into the inner sanctum. Despite her own inclination to privacy, Anne began to feel small and lonely, her only company her daughter. John seemed oblivious, when he wasn’t working late.

One Saturday morning gave Anne a different feeling altogether, however. As she was returning home from a visit to the grocery store, she was greeted by a phalanx of the neighbourhood’s ladies, all out jogging together, following the trim and athletic Caity. Six women returning from what must have been a strenuous run, considering how out of breath they all were. To Anne’s relief, Caity ran up to her, smiling, her ponytail bobbing.

“Good morning, Anne! Fine day for it, huh?” She grinned ebulliently.

“Well, it’s a little chilly for exercise, I have to say. Have you organised a neighbourhood fitness club?” Said Anne.

“That’s exactly right! It’s important for us women to stay in shape. You know, you’re more than welcome to join us.” Said Caity. Anne agonised for a moment. More excuses might make her even more of an outcast, but then again, she most certainly didn’t want to spend these cold winter mornings running through the suburb.

“Thanks, but no.” She said. “I use the company gym in my office every afternoon.”

“I’ll bet you do!” Laughed Caity, as she looked down over Anne’s body. Something about her gaze made Anne want to cover up her chest with her hands.

“Still,” She continued, “It would be lovely if you did join us. It’s a great chance for us ladies to really bond, you know what I mean?”

“Well, I’ll think about it.” Said Anne, perturbed by the strange look Caity had given her.

XIII

A ring of the doorbell brought Bill to his front door. Outside in the cool dark of the evening stood a red-headed woman. She was so tall she towered over him, especially in the high black stilettos she wore. She was carrying a large bag, bulging with garments of some sort.

“Hello William.” She said.

“Who are you, exactly?” Bill asked, his sharp brow furrowing.

“My name is Sarah. I’m a very good friend of your wife’s. Now, where is Rochelle?” Sarah said.

“She—she’s in the kitchen, cleaning up.” He replied.

Sarah brushed past Bill before he could protest. In the kitchen Sarah found Rochelle washing dishes in the sink. She started in surprise when Sarah gently touched her on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, dear. You can quit now.” Her beautiful face darkening, Sarah turned again to Bill.

“Let’s the three of us all sit in your living room, shall we?” Her tone suggested it wasn’t a request.

The couple sat together on one of their mauve sofas. Sarah stood over them for a moment before she removed her coat. She revealed a taut, full figure, encased in a beautiful blue dress that shimmered in the light. She wore matching gloves that stretched up almost to her shoulders. She looked like she had just returned from a the opera, or an exclusive gala. Bill couldn’t help but admire her beauty, even as he set his jaw against her presumptuousness. She sat down on the chair opposite the couple, and switched off the football game he had been watching on the television.

“Now William. I’ve been meaning to have some words with you about Rochelle.” Sarah began. Bill glanced at his wife, who sat timidly on the very edge of the sofa, her legs pressed tightly together.

“You have been a very, very poor husband to her. You make her feel useless, like she can’t do anything properly on her own. You seem to enjoy making her feel small, don’t you?” Sarah said.

“Now wait a minute! Just who the shit do you think you are?” Bill barked. Sarah ignored him.

“You dictate what she can and can’t wear. Sometimes you like her to show off, and then other times, you’ll berate her for being ugly. Isn’t that right?”

“Did you tell this bitch to say this, Rochelle?” He glared at his wife. Sarah’s voice drew him back into the cold gaze of her emerald eyes.

“And the worst thing is she believes you. For years she has changed her behaviour, her clothes, and even her thoughts to suit you, even though nothing she ever does seem to make you happy. Such a beautiful woman reduced to the status of a common maid. Fortunately, I have devised a solution beneficial for all of us. Rochelle?”

With that, Rochelle leaned over and began whispering into her husband’s ear. Immediately his eyes began to cross as he heard her words. William wanted to speak, to lash out, but he couldn’t move.

“You see William, I’ve had Rochelle whisper this mantra into your ear every single night for a week whilst you slept. My words have taken control of your cock, haven’t they?”

As though it were pulled on a string, Bill’s prick dutifully rose when she mentioned it. He strained against his trousers even as he struggled against his own arousal. His wife continued to chant relentlessly as she unzipped his jeans, allowing his large member to spring free. Sarah spoke again.

“Oh, good boy. Yes, my words have power over your cock, and over your mind. You have no choice but to submit to your Mistress.”

His wife’s sexy whispering felt as though it were filling Bill up from toes to scalp. His mind drifted away from his body. He was already mouthing soundlessly the words.

Rewiring men’s minds was so much easier than a woman’s, it was almost tiresome, Sarah reflected. Simple male brain, simple commands. She could order Rochelle to take him into her mouth, pleasure him orally whilst she reprogrammed him, but Sarah didn’t think he deserved it. She roughly grabbed his length by a gloved hand and began jerking him hard and fast, looking into his eyes, allowing him to become lost in her sparkling irises. She told him to repeat his own mantra and he did, grunting it out as she pulled on him. Rochelle fell silent as Sarah commanded aloud.

“Self-respect is no longer in your vocabulary, William Slut. You are only in this house to be used and abused by your wife. Used and abused. She gives the orders from this point on. No matter how humiliating those orders are. In fact, the more humiliated you feel, the more turned on you will get.”

Satisfied her instructions had taken root, Sarah tugged roughly on his prick and barked at him.

“Come for your Mistress now, Slut, and accept the truth.” William dutifully spurted himself all over the floor with a pathetic groan. Spent, he fell off the couch and onto his knees, lost and broken. Sarah threw the bag at his face.

“Now put these clothes on. It’s your new uniform. Starting tomorrow, you will be the maid of this house.”

William pulled out the garments, horrified. He laid out what was clearly a specially tailored outfit. It was a stereotypical frilly maid’s dress; a black skirt and blouse with white lace trimming, complete with thigh-high stockings and garters. He blushed terribly as his wife giggled aloud. Next out of the bag came various pairs of lacy thongs, all large enough to fit a man. He heard Sarah speak again.

“Now pull your pretty panties on.”

Unable to stop himself, William pulled down his trousers and shorts, and hiked up a pair of thin pink panties, catching the last dribble of his spunk as he did so. His cock bulged out obscenely, his embarrassment already turning into something else.

Sarah pointed at the damp patch on the carpet.

“William Slut, your first task is to clean up your own mess. Once you are done, join us upstairs in your bedroom so you can enjoy watching me fuck your sweet wife’s brains out.”

Sarah took hold of Rochelle’s trembling, timorous hand.

“Now my dear, come with me so I can tell you all about your new living situation.”

XIV

“Sure Robert. Looking forward to it.” John said, and hung up the phone. Anne looked up from the sofa as she tickled her infant daughter.

“Was that Robert from next door?” She asked.

“Yes. He’s putting together a poker night on Friday, and asked if I was interested.”

“And I’m guessing you are?”

“Honey, just because you prefer to stay blockaded indoors every evening, doesn’t mean everyone does. I haven’t had a game going in years. You don’t mind, do you?”

Anne sighed. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up on some TV.”

It was strange, she thought, that none of the women seemed to be doing anything that night. Or perhaps they were and she wasn’t invited at all this time. She rubbed her eyes and worried.

Friday arrived, and John kissed his wife goodbye for the evening, bursting out of the door with gusto. He did love to gamble. Anne warned him not to get too drunk. She stood silently at the window and watched him go. She suddenly realised that every window in every house she could see, was dark. Was there no one home anywhere? Opening the door, she took a couple of steps out into the chilly air and looked down the street. The trees waved silently under a slight breeze. Robert and Abbey were home at least. Everywhere else, every window was black. All except the white house—Sarah’s house. Lights blazed brightly there. For the first time in a long time, Anne felt lost and alone. The next time she got invited to a neighbourhood gathering, she resolved she simply had to go.

John reached the Meachum’s home and rung their bell. He had been looking forward to this. A bit of poker, some whiskey. It had been too long. The door opened and Abbey welcomed him in. She was wearing a strikingly tight black dress. Unable to help himself, he stole a look down his ginger-haired neighbour’s lithe body. She caught him looking and smiled.

“Are you … are you going out tonight, Abbey?” He asked.

“No.” She said coyly.

“So where are the boys?”

“Oh, they’ll be here soon enough.” Abbey said, taking his hand, leading him inside, letting him drink in her curves as she did. “But I’ll be keeping you company in the meantime.”

XV

A few nights later, Anne found two of her neighbours knocking on her door. This time Anne found Caity and Abbey before her. In spite of herself, Anne found she was jealous of the pair. They seemed to have all the free time in the world, spending their days together, walking arm in arm like sisters.

“Hello Anne! How are you?” Glittered Caity.

“I’m fine, thanks. What can I do for you?” Anne answered, maintaining the friendliest demeanour she could.

“We’ve come to invite you to a party this weekend! One just for us girls!” Abbey said this time.

“This weekend? Well, I—” Remembering those awful tremors of isolation that had reverberated through her the other night, Anne stopped herself before she could burst out another excuse.

“It’s a sex-toy party.” Whispered Caity conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling. “No boys allowed! Please tell us you’ll come, Anne. I’ve spent so long organising it! There’ll be lots of wine too!”

Anne sighed. A sex-toy party wasn’t what she had hoped for, but she had promised herself that she would make the effort. There really wasn’t much of a choice, unless she wanted to remain living on her lonely island.

“Okay! I’d love to come.”

“Hooray!” Caity exclaimed. “Come round to mine for nine!”

Anne watched the two women skip away as though they were both still teenagers.

XVI

A simple phone call to both and Allison and Lillith had dutifully come over immediately. They had undressed as soon as they came in, and now they sat on their knees, side by side, before Sarah’s throne. Sarah walked around them, admiring their bodies. Allison was tall and slim, young looking for her age. Lillith was small and deliciously curvy. Their skin tones made for a delicious contrast here, naked together.

“Remember sluts. All things happen for a reason. And that reason is me. Now, who do you belong to?”

“You, Mistress.” They said. Sarah’s mind virus had worked well on these two. Both women were firmly in her grasp, but she always found further conditioning never hurt. Besides, it was always such fun. They remained still, their chests rising and falling in rhythm. Lillith’s nipples were already obviously erect.

“Sluts, open your legs wide, and place your hands on the other’s cunt.” She ordered. Dutifully, the two crossed arms, Allison resting her left hand between the other’s legs, and Lillith doing the same with her right.

“And who do these cunts belong to?”

“You, Mistress.”

“Yes. Now, stroke each other.” The two women began rubbing each other, first gently, then more urgently, as they felt the lascivious effects of the other’s hand. After a few minutes both women were squirming and panting. The scent of arousal began to permeate the room.

“Now, slip a finger in.”

“Now, slowly, in time to your fingering, say your mantras out loud.” Both women spoke at the same time, different words with the same meaning.

“Touching … Purple … Getting … Hotter.” Sighed Allison.

“Horribly … Light … Blue … Body.” Gasped Lillith.

Four simple, seemingly random words were able to infect their minds, transforming them, changing the women into something supple and weak. Ready to be remoulded into whatever their Mistress desired. The more they chanted, the stronger the bond between her and their subconsciousnesses became. Sarah loved this part, watching their eyes fade into gauzy haze even as their nipples tightened and their bodies shuddered. It was so fucking sexy. She almost wanted to get down on her own knees and flick herself off right away, but she composed herself. As they chanted, she walked between them, whispering first into Jane’s ear.

“I own you. You love me with all your heart. I own you. You cannot resist me. I own you.”

She repeated the process with Allison. In their deep states of trance, with their own pleasure out of their direct control, and their Mistresses sensuous voice permeating their minds, the two women couldn’t do anything but let her words sink in deeply and permanently. She let her slaves continue for a long time, allowing their slow torture to build until they were both groaning between words. Satisfied, Sarah ordered them to stop and remove their hands. She felt curious about her new pets. She crouched down and stared into Allison’s eyes first.

“Now tell me, Allison Slut. Tell me your darkest, filthiest desires. What turns you on more than anything in the world?”

In such a deep trance, Allison couldn’t look away from her Mistress, but still, she stayed silent. She was still too embarrassed to speak aloud. Sarah gave her a smarting smack across the face.

“Tell me, Slut!”

“I … I want to fuck everyone, Mistress. I want to have sex and sex and sex. I don’t ever want to stop. I want to be used like a whore. Just let … just let anyone use me.”

Interesting, thought Sarah. She asked Lillith the same question.

“I want to be punished for being such a bitch. I want to be tied up and chained and … spanked … and whipped.” She groaned out. Speaking her wants aloud seemed to turn her on even more. Sarah smiled.

“Good. Now, come here and suckle my nipples whilst I decide which one of you will get to lick my Royal Pussy tonight.”

XVII

Anne arrived precisely at nine, as requested, but she was obviously the last one to arrive. She was led into the front room of Caity’s home, and found a whole cohort of her neighbours chatting and giggling together on the various chairs. There were vibrators and other contraptions spilled out all over the expansive coffee table. Joanne was holding one buzzing device to her nose and laughing hysterically. Abbey was sitting on the floor near the fireplace. She beamed at Anne and patted the empty spot on the sofa next to her.

“Come here, lovely! We’ve saved a place for you!” Everyone was laughing and merry. There were already several empty bottles of wine on the table. How much exactly have I missed? Wondered Anne.

“We’re so glad you came, Anne!” Said Caity, as she handed her a full glass of red wine.

“Yes, we’re just so happy!” Agreed Rochelle.

“Let’s all thank Mistress Sarah for allowing us this night together.” Said Caity.

“Thank you Mistress Sarah.” The women said as one, as though they were nuns in church. Anne almost choked on her wine. What is happening here? She wondered. Is everyone here that drunk already? Suddenly the moment of bizarre reverence disappeared, as though it had never even happened. Caity disappeared for a moment, only to return carrying little shiny red gift bags. She handed each of the women one. Anne opened hers. It seemed to contain some sort of gossamer thin underwear.

“Um, Caity, what is this?” She asked.

“It’s a present for you!” She replied, as the other women cooed at their own gifts, all apparently tiny scraps of lingerie in different translucent colours.

“I’ll put mine on first!” Caity said, running from the room. Anne sat dumbfounded as the women whispered to each other. Anne realised with a start that Abbey had begun to stroke her leg. The ginger-haired young woman smiled up at her warmly.

“Just relax, Anne. This is going to be so much fun.”

Before Anne could find out what she meant, Caity flounced back into the room, naked except for a pair of black thigh-high hold-ups. Anne froze in shock at the sight of the athletic young woman with her black hair and long, muscular legs brazenly twirling almost naked before them, giggling almost manically.

Anne caught a movement from the corner of her eye. She looked down and realised that Abbey’s hands had begun pulling on her large, heavy breasts. A prickling sensation trembled over Anne’s scalp as she noticed Joanne was now unbuttoning her shirt.

Several things then happened all at once. As the round hipped, curly haired Lillith struggled to pull down her trousers, Allison leaned over to kiss Rochelle full on the mouth, and Caity lunged towards Anne with a look of furious desire in her eyes.

Anne reeled and dropped her glass onto the table. It span and fell, spilling the wine onto the carpet. Caity didn’t pause for a moment, even as Anne tried to stand up. She was pawing at the startled woman’s t-shirt even as Anne retreated to the door to the hallway.

Anne gripped onto the wood of the frame, unable to wrench her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. Caity looked at her with a look of confusion for a moment, but then directed her attention to Lillith instead. She began kissing and stroking her neck even as the blonde was pulling down her jeans. She wasn’t wearing underwear.

Now topless, Joanne had seemingly lost her patience and had fallen down to the floor by Abbey. She pushed her hand down the front of the other woman’s jeans. Her arm moved vigorously as the Abbey began to moan with pleasure. Caity had quickly stripped Lillith down to nothing, and was now kissing up her spreading thighs.

Anne tried to turn away but couldn’t, transfixed by the increasingly lurid tableau before her. Groans began to fill the room as the women progressively lost their clothes and their control. But when Caity lifted her mouth away from Lillith’s womanhood, her chin glistening, to again look searchingly at her, Anne at last found the will to flee. She slammed the front door behind her, dimming the now frantic sounds emanating from inside. She tried to ignore her beating heart as she took several deep gulps of the freezing winter air.

Anne tried not to think about it, but the sight of those women losing themselves in the lust of each others arms had certainly had an effect, even if there was no way she would have ever joined in. But there was an urgency in her stride as she rushed home. She would tell John all about it, once she had quenched her own thirst.

She locked her door, clasped her husband’s hand, and led him up to their bedroom. Satisfied Erica was safely asleep, Anne pushed him down onto their bed and stripped off her clothes. She found herself so desperate she leapt upon him before she could even remove her knickers. Reciprocating gratefully, John rolled her over onto her back and kissed her as he entered her. Anne groaned with delight as she felt his hardness fill her. They rocked back and forward in near silence, enjoying the heat and touch of each other for long minutes. After a while, though, Anne was sure she could hear him saying something under his breath.

“What is it, darling?” She asked. William wasn’t listening. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving as he continued to slowly thrust his body down. Anne had to struggle closer to hear what he was saying.

“Only Mistress Sarah can let us come … She owns us … Only Mistress Sarah can let us come … She owns us … Only Mistress Sarah can let us come …”

Anne froze beneath him, and then shook at him violently. He seemed to snap out of his dream, his focus returning a little.

“What the fuck are you saying?” She yelled.

“I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Who is Sarah? Why are you saying shit like that?”

“I … I think Abbey told me to say it.”

“Abbey? What in the holy hell is wrong with everyone? Sarah? You mean the woman who lives in the white house?”

“I don’t know!” He replied, rolling over, sobbing.

Anne swung herself off the bed and pulled her t-shirt back on.

“You stay here, idiot. I’m going to talk to this Sarah, and find out why the fuck she’s got everyone acting so crazy.”

XIV

Banging, banging on the door of the white house. Anne kept up the banging until someone finally arrived to answer her, but to her surprise, it was not a woman, but a man she recognised. It was Rochelle’s husband, and the frilly pink dress he was wearing was even more of a shock. His face was impassive.

“Bill? Why are you here?” Anne asked.

“Mistress Sarah wants me here tonight.” He intoned dully.

“I need to meet this Sarah. Right now.”

William obliged by opening the door wide enough to allow Anne to enter. She was greeted by a blast of hot, sultry air, and the smell of a log fire. It was delicious, but Anne was determined to keep her cold air of anger at this whole situation. William led her down the hall into a large, comfortable living room, solely lit by the roaring fire. The air seemed doubly perfumed with the intoxicating scent of jasmine.

A woman with lustrous red hair was sitting on a fantastical black throne trimmed with gold. She smiled at Anne as she approached. She looked almost ageless, with shining, penetrating eyes. She wore a gorgeous, figure-hugging dress that served to erotically accentuate her legs.

“So you’re this illustrious Sarah, the one on everyone’s lips. Including my husbands. I would like to know what the hell you are doing to this neighbourhood.” Demanded Anne. Sarah beckoned Anne closer.

“It’s really very simple, Anne. I have given direction and happiness to your neighbours. They are all, men and women both, in touch with their innermost desires now, and I am the one who fulfils them. And all I ask for in return is their absolute submission. It also allows me to play out all my most wicked ideas and cruel fantasies.” She smiled and pointed back to William, who was now kneeling in his pink dress.

“And how exactly did you accomplish this?” Anne laughed, incredulously.

“Well, let me explain it to you what a mantra is. A mantra is a series of special words designed to be spoken aloud, so the vibrations will echo through your mind, delivering you from the cares and worries of self-control, allowing you to truly understand the power of the words you repeat. Chanting it over and over only reinforces that power.”

“All words have meaning, Anne, and it’s their meaning that gives them their power. I give people words that take power away from them and hand it to me. Words such as these.”

Sarah took a deep breath and spoke to Anne.

“Sticky … Lemon … Trusting … Blues.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Said Anne.

There was a beat of silence between the two women, the only sound filling the room the quiet crackle of the burning fire. Sarah raised her eyebrows.

“Well, aren’t you something, Anne? You’re the first one that’s not worked on. I wonder why that is.”

“Maybe I’m just immune to bullshit.” She replied.

“No one’s immune to bullshit.” Laughed Sarah. “But you don’t seem to be susceptible to the power of hypnosis. And considering you’re here and not at Caity’s or with your husband, seems to suggest you’re not one for submitting. Do you prefer to be in charge, Anne?”

Sarah clicked her finger, which brought Bill out from the shadows. He meekly crawled towards the two women, and came to a kneeling halt between them. Sarah playfully patted him on the head.

“Take off your pretty dress, William Slut.” She told him. He immediately unbuttoned it. Anne just stared at his naked form, admiring, in spite of herself, the size of his cock. Sarah caught her looking.

“Who does your cock belong to, William Slut?”

“You, Mistress Sarah.” He said dully.

“That can always change, William.” Sarah looked back at Anne and smiled.

If you can’t beat me, how about joining me?” Asked Mistress Sarah.

Anne suddenly realised what she meant. She raised an eyebrow.