The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“You’re going to what?”

“We’re going to send you to camp, Rose. It’s not a prison sentence, you know.”

I recoiled. “Why?”

My mother sighed the sigh of patient mothers everywhere. “Rosemary, you’re seventeen. Your sister is fifteen. Your father and I have been busy raising the two of you since our early twenties. We’ve both topped forty now, and we’d like to spend a little time alone with each other for the first time in nearly twenty years.”

I struggled to absorb this news. “What about Leslie? Is she going?”

Dad chimed in this time. “Your sister is spending two months with her grandparents. We’re going to tell her when she gets home from Dana’s house.”

“OK. Where are the two of you going?”

Dad continued. “Your mother and I are going to travel across Europe. I’ve resolved as much of my outstanding work at the firm as I could, and I’ve farmed the rest out to other partners. She’ll be on her summer vacation, of course.” Mom teaches freshman and sophomore English at our local high school. I still can’t believe she gave me a B+ instead of an A. “All we have left to do is find a housesitter to take care of things here. And we have to sell you on the idea.” He grinned.

I was not placated so easily. “But I was going to work at the bank this summer! Tina and I were going to drive down to the beach for a week! And Jeff—oh geez, Jeff—”

Mom took her turn, a little sterner than before. “The allowance we’re going to give you when you get back will make up for what you would have made working. I don’t think we’d have let you take off for a week unchaperoned even if you were going to be around. And your boyfriend can just wait a while for you.”

For a moment I was silent. Mom and Dad waited silently as well. It seemed like they’d put a lot of thought into this. I always had a simple strategy when dealing with my parents: fight the battles you think you can win, and surrender when you know you can’t win. The latter course seemed appropriate. “What kind of camp is it?”

Mom brightened at this sign of interest on my part. “It’s called the Davis Camp for Girls. It looks just wonderful. They’ve got lots of outdoors activities like fishing, hiking, and camping. You can go on nature walks or take astronomy classes and go stargazing at night. They’ve got arts and crafts activities, and recreational sports as well. Plus there are lots of seminars and encounter groups dealing with the problems young women like you have in the world today.”

To my astonishment, she pulled a brochure out from her purse. The Davis Camp for Girls did seem to have a lot to offer. A quick glace through the list revealed that one got to pick and choose what sort of things one did. Yes, I’d have to go without Jeff for eight weeks, but it wasn’t like joining the Marines.

A resigned sigh. “OK, I’ll do it.”

Mom jumped up and gave me a hug. “Great! Thanks, Rosemary!” Behind her, Dad beamed.

Three weeks later the happy day arrived. Leslie had already left two days before, so it was only Dad, Mom, and I at the airport. Davis Camp was 400 miles away, so I was flying, but that was OK, as camp counselors would pick me up at the airport.

“Oh sweetie, have a good time!” Despite the fact that she’d talked me into this, Mom was on the verge of tears as she hugged me.

“They have pay phones there, call us collect anytime,” said my father, as he hugged me in turn.

“I’ll be fine, guys.” And so, with a smile that I hoped reflected lots of enthusiasm, I boarded the plane.

A few hours later I was deplaning at a mid-sized mid-American airport, suitcases in hand. Two cheerful people in Davis Camp for Girls T-shirts awaited me—oh, wait, I’ve forgotten something! I haven’t mentioned what I look like!

Can’t overlook that detail, now can we? Let’s see, where to begin? Then, as now, I was five foot five inches tall and 105 pounds. I have dark brown hair that falls down in waves, usually to my shoulders. I have big, expressive brown eyes that are a good match for my hair. Guys usually compliment me on my eyes—that is, when they aren’t staring at my tits. My skin is smooth and my complexion is pale, as befits our family’s North European origin. I have a small button nose and full lips that Cosmo-politan might call “bee-stung”. I have a nice, tight 26-inch waist, 34-inch hips, and a butt that looks damn good in a miniskirt, if I do say so myself.

You were wondering about my tits, I bet. 36DD. When I was 12 they started growing, and they grew slowly but steadily until my junior year in high school, which was just before I went to Davis Camp. Guys always stared. They can’t help it. Sometimes I’d catch a male teacher staring. It was annoying sometimes, but I liked being sexy, too.

Anyway, back to the story. Two cheerful people. They were Dana and Matt, Davis Camp counselors, there to meet me and whisk me away.

“Hi, Rose!” Dana was very cheery indeed.

“Hi there.” Then an odd detail struck me. “Am I the only one?”

“Nope, there are others coming on other flights today. Let’s get your stuff to the van first.”

We did so, loading my suitcases in a van built for eight that bore the logo “Davis Camp” on the side. After Matt tossed my second case in and slammed the door, I turned and faced the way we’d come, towards the terminals. “So, when are—”

The hand that came down on my shoulder was surprisingly strong, and the needle punch followed instantly. I whirled to see Dana, looking at me calmly but with an air of expectation. “What...wha...”

“Now Rosemary, don’t fight it. It’s easier on everyone if you just relax.”

I opened my mouth to scream, or curse her, or something, but nothing came out. Instead, a wicked wave of dizziness washed over me. I slumped/fell against the rear of the van, gasping for breath.

“Rose, you need to come with us now.” This was Matt.

“...no...” With all of my rapidly fading strength, I straightened myself up and tried to walk away from the van. I got three steps, I think, before I swooned again. This time Matt’s strong arms were there to catch me and hold me up.

Dana had stashed her hypodermic somewhere and opened the van’s sliding door. I felt very drunk, like I’d been pounding daiquiris all night. Matt guided my stumbling feet to the door and helped me flop over sideways onto one of the passenger seats. Then he hopped into the same seat, next to me, with Dana taking the wheel.

We pulled out of our space. My consciousness was dwindling speedily, but I was still aware of what was happening. “What are...what are you doing...”

Matt straightened me up and fastened my seat belt. “We’re taking you to camp, Rosemary. You’ll learn more later.” Then he reached and squeezed one of my boobs. Normally, I would have slapped him hard across the face, but by that point I was down to blinking. “Holy shit, are you a hot one. You are just stacked, honey.” He glanced forward, to the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you think so, Dana?”

My eyes followed his forward and met Dana’s in the mirror. The carnivorous look I saw in her face caused a tiny bloom of panic. “Yes, I do. She’s going to be a fun project.”

That’s the last thing I remember before regaining consciousness at Davis Camp for Girls.

I’m not sure how far the camp was from the airport. All I know is that it was in a wooded, secluded area that looked very much like a setting for a girls’ camp. Only it didn’t look like a camp from the outside. It looked more like a prison, with high walls that sported barbed wire atop.

I was still very wobbly as Matt and Dana extracted me from the van. Certainly I didn’t have the strength to run away or fight them. Strangely, I wasn’t really panicking. Apparently the little shot they gave me had a tranquilizing effect. Anyway, as they led me across the well-tended grounds of Davis Camp, I took my first dazed look around. The camp itself didn’t look unusual at all. As a matter of fact, with its rows of neat but utterly ordinary buildings, it looked like a military training facility—which, I guess, was appropriate.

What were very unusual, however, were some of the people I saw. One group of women were doing calisthenics in the nude. One woman, a staff member perhaps, strolled nonchalantly in leather dominatrix gear, carrying a whip. Another woman, carrying a manila folder, was dressed entirely normally in blouse and slacks, but sported a ball gag in her mouth. Off to the side, a stunning blonde thrust a dildo in and out of herself while a group of women sat in a semicircle and watched.

All this made me both anxious and curious, despite the sedative that was coursing through me. I ventured a question to my “counselors”.

“What is this place?”

Matt chuckled. “Depends on whom you ask. For you, it’s a girls’ camp. For others, it’s a therapeutic retreat for divorced women. For others, it’s a health spa. Doesn’t matter, as long as we lure our subjects to Davis Camp. The locals think we’re a weird religious cult, but we keep to ourselves and pay taxes so they leave us alone. It’s an excellent setup.”

By now they had led me to my room, and that room, much like the camp walls, reminded me of a prison, or at least a prison cell. I was still weak, but my panic was building again. “What are you going to do to me?”

Dana answered. “We’re going to turn you into a sex slave, Rosemary.” Then they shoved me rudely into my room—my cell—and closed the door.

I suppose I beat against the walls for a while, but the door was iron and the window looked thicker than the glass in an airplane porthole. There was a cot against the wall, a toilet, a sink, and what looked like a large TV monitor recessed into the wall behind some more of that airplane glass. That was it. I suppose I screamed for a while, begging for help. Then I might have cried. Doesn’t really matter.

I was all cried out and, despite my fear, starting to nod off when a bell sounded and the TV came to life. I jumped off of the bed with a shriek.

The face on the screen was that of a friendly-looking middle-aged man with a beard. He smiled into the camera and said, “Hello, Rosemary, and welcome to Davis Camp.” My terror was not lessened upon learning that this man knew my name. “As our staff might have told you, we are going to change you into an obedient sex slave. When you leave this place, chastity will be a foreign concept. Modesty will be alien. Indepen-dence will be frightening. You will literally live to serve. You will also be a horny, cock-craving little bitch.” He smiled again, as if enjoying his own private joke. “I am the Director. Unfortunately we will never meet, but your caseworkers, Dana and Matt, are fully capable of training and conditioning you, with the assistance of our expert staff. You might think that this is impossible.” I was thinking that, actually. “Well, it is quite possible, Rosemary, given the right method. We use a combination of visual, auditory, and chemical stimuli...”

I don’t remember much after that. I hadn’t noticed when the music started playing softly in the background as the bearded man talked. I did notice when the screen started to flash and change colors, even as Bearded Man continued his speech. After a while, though, he went away, and the screen was full of pretty, complex, twisting shapes, and the colors changed and the lights flashed and the music played and I didn’t think about anything. Much later, I think, the door swung open and the needle jabbed into my arm again. I hardly noticed.

When I came to this time, Matt was gently urging me awake. I sat up, fought off a brief spell of dizziness, and took stock of my surroundings. Matt was wearing an outfit identical to what he’d greeted me in—“Davis Camp for Girls” T-shirt and khaki shorts—but I was clad only in a plain white cotton T-shirt, a tiny pair of gym shorts, and sandals. Underwear was not included.

“Good morning, Rosemary.” My first thought was how handsome he was. Matt was tan and lean, six feet tall, with short black hair, a chiseled jaw and a confident smile.

Despite myself, I blushed and smiled. “Hi Matt.” Then the previous events came back to me and I shrank away from him. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I think the video explained all. Come, sweetheart.” He held out his hand, and to my astonishment I took it. His strong grip made my heart race a little. Matt led me out of my room and out of the dormitory. As we walked down the hallway, I heard the occasional moan, sigh, or squeal come from behind the doors. I was very aware of how my unconstrained boobs bounced and swayed as we walked down the front steps. Around the same time, some minor irritation caused me to reach up to my neck with my free hand, and it was then I found the collar.

“What’s this?”

“Just what it feels like. Every slave gets a collar, of course. Besides its obvious uses, your collar contains electronic sensors and a tracing device. If, somehow, you were to get outside the fences, an alarm would sound, and we’d come and get you. The second alarm on the collar is rather loud and would render you incapable of getting very far.”

Visions of escape had been dancing in my head. They stopped dancing. “But why the security if I am supposed to be so obedient?”

“Well, we won’t need it by the end, of course. This is just to keep you from bolting during the early stages of your training. Ah, here we are.”

It was the infirmary. “I’m not sick.”

“You certainly look healthy,” Matt said, and pinched my butt. I giggled. “And you probably are, but this is just a precaution. A disease check. Oh, by the way, are you a virgin?”

“No.” Jeff and I had done it a few times that year.

“Too bad. That always makes it a little more fun.”

The doctor gave me a routine physical and took a blood sample. He also gave me birth control pills. It was like a normal visit to the doctor, except for the nurses, who wore tiny miniskirts and blouses with deep cleavage rather than the traditional nurse’s uniform. Matt was leafing through a five-year-old copy of “Sports Illustrated” when I came out.

“Excellent. Shall we go?”

“OK.” Once again, I meekly accompanied him. My rational brain said that it was pointless to struggle unless and until I saw a real chance to get out of this. The smart thing would be to co-operate and win his trust. However, my less rational side wondered if the training was already starting to take effect.

After a light lunch, Matt led me to an observation room in a nearby building. We stood in front of a large glass panel, and stared inside. What we saw amazed me.

A thirty-ish woman knelt at the feet of a tan, muscular man. Both were nude. She looked distressed. Her hands were bound behind her back by the kind of leather cuffs you might see at a fetish store.

“Please, sir, don’t punish me again!” I jumped when I realized we could hear them too, over an intercom. I also wondered how she’d been punished, since she bore no marks.

“You have been disobedient. You have resisted your training.”

“No, please no, I can be good—”

“I doubt it.” His smile was mirthless.

“Please, I’ll do what you want!”

He looked down at her intently. “And just what is it that I want, bitch?”

She paused for a second, confused. Then she raised herself up on her knees and leaned forward to his crotch. He wasn’t erect, so she had a little more work to do, catching his cock with her tongue and taking it in her mouth. She sucked carefully and intently. I watched him get hard as she sucked vigorously on his tip.

“Good, but you’d better get me off if you don’t want to go back into the room.”

Her eyes opened briefly and a little moan escaped. She was incapable of saying more, as she was working feverishly on his thick rod, eyes shut, hair bouncing back and forth.

A hand squeezing my breast startled me. Then I looked down and realized it was mine.

Perhaps unsatisfied by her pace, the man took hold of her head with both hands and started pumping his hips. He was fucking her face. The girl made moans and choking noises as he thrust inside her.

Another hand, definitely not mine, worked its way inside my shorts. Matt was reaching down inside and fondling my bare ass. I didn’t dare look back at him, but I spread my legs apart a little and leaned forward.

The girl’s tits bounced and swayed as the man plunged himself inside her mouth, faster and faster now. He was grunting with every thrust. The girl was emitting a more or less continual low whine.

And so was I. I was leaning all the way forward, my forehead against the glass, balanced between my head and my feet, legs spread apart. Matt was close in behind me, cupping my pussy, rubbing my sex furiously. I could feel trickles of moisture on my thighs. I felt helpless, off-balance, leaning against the glass as the pleasure and heat built between my legs. All this time, I watched the couple inside the room.

The man came with a moan and a grimace. The girl obviously wasn’t expecting it that soon, as her eyes flew wide open with surprise, but she swallowed quickly and greedily, as if she were starving.

I came with a squeal, the orgasm ripping through me, then fell to my knees, shuddering, face still mashed up against the glass.

After catching his breath, the man pushed her back into a kneeling position. She looked up at him apprehensively. “Good work”, he said, and she broke into a smile.

Matt pulled me from my spot against the glass and turned me to face him. He held out his finger, slick with my juices. I understood immediately, and cleaned him.

“Wonderful”, he said, and I broke into a smile of my own. “Rose, that was great for your first lesson.”

I was kind of blissed out for a little bit, but I came down from my glow as we ambled down another corridor. These buildings seemed to have lots and lots of corridors. As Matt led me by hand around yet another corner, I summoned up my defiance.

“It won’t work.”

He chuckled. “What won’t?”

“Whatever you’re doing. You won’t make me into a woman like that. I’m strong. I’ll resist you.”

“Well, you go ahead. We like spirited girls. Makes for better slaves in the end.”

This drew my anger, and I tore my hand from his, turned, and faced him. “Listen, you might think that—”

He drew me roughly into his arms. I found myself crushed against his hard body, and his hard cock, which I felt against my belly. I couldn’t say a word, couldn’t do anything but look into his deep, deep eyes.

“Think what?” He leaned into me, and I opened my mouth to receive his kiss, but I felt the jab in my butt instead. I turned to see the little hypodermic in the palm of his hand.

Suddenly I felt boneless and rubbery. Matt opened the door we’d stopped at and guided my shuffling feet to a large padded chair in the middle of a small room. The chair faced a large video screen. I felt very warm and peaceful, and I offered no resistance as he strapped down my hands and feet, and strapped my head in the headrest.

“Time for a training session, Rose.”

“OK.”

Then I remember nothing, nothing but sounds and colors, colors and sounds, shapes racing, voices speaking, juices staining my seat, commands etching themselves into my brain...

This time it was Dana who extricated me from my chair. She wore the same khaki shorts that Matt did but she was topless, except for a badge on a chain around her neck that said “STAFF.”

“Did you learn something, Rose?”

“...how...how long...”

“Four hours. Did you learn something?”

I tried to concentrate but my head felt filled with cobwebs. “...uh...”

“That’s ok. I’m sure you did.”

Dinnertime. I think Dana had to help me feed myself. Certainly I still felt spaced out as she led me back to my cell.

“Today was only your first step, Rosemary. You’ll have all your old memories, and you’ll still feel like yourself, but when you leave here you’ll be different. We’ll help you to fulfill your potential.”

“Potential?”

“Yes. Rosemary, do you like my tits?”

I looked at them. Not as big as mine, but Dana still looked like a healthy C-cup, and they looked great on her slender athlete’s body.

“Yes.”

“Really, Rose. Do you think they’re pretty?” She took my hand and put it on her breast. Her skin felt soft and warm. Without thinking, I felt her nipple. It grew hard, and Dana sighed.

“Mmmm...that’s nice. Too bad we don’t have time for that right now.”

She took my hand off, and I sat back on my bed, confused. What was going on?

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s a present for you.” She reached into her pocket and handed me a white dildo. It was big. Real big.

Dana grinned. “Compliments of the house.”

She turned and left, shutting the door behind her. I was mesmerized by the sex toy that she’d placed in my hands. I ran my hands along its length and thickness, wondering what it would feel like inside me.

Then the screen jumped to life, and Bearded Man came on. “Hello Rosemary. You seem to be doing well. At Davis Camp we pride ourselves on quality, and you have the makings of a first-class pussy slave...”

The familiar scene happened again. My conscious mind drifted away, as the shapes and colors and sounds that I loved so much gradually replaced Bearded Man. Soon I was sitting on my bed, slumped against the wall, facing the TV. The screen glowed and pulsed. I thrust the dildo in and out of my wet, hot pussy, moaning and grunting with each sensation. The screen talked to me, commanded me, swallowed me up inside of it, as I pounded away with my dildo, desperate to cum, desperate to learn and understand.

I came with a shout.

The next morning I awoke in a fog. It didn’t take too long to realize that someone had been in my room during the night, since I was now naked under my bedcovers. On the floor was my plastic friend. I got a thrill just from seeing him again. Next to the dildo lay two interesting items—a very tiny bikini ensemble, and a leash.

Of course, I knew what to do. I put on the bikini, which was small indeed. The top was little more than a strap of plastic that wrapped around my tits, covering my nipples and hardly anything else. The bottom was a little bit bigger, which was fortunate, as I’d definitely need a trim before wearing anything smaller. I hesitated with the leash, holding it in my hands, wondering what the consequences might be if I refused it. Suddenly I grew sick and fearful, and with trembling hands I fastened it around my neck. The lock went shut with a tiny click.

Dana opened my door, sporting her ever-sunny smile. She had a different pair of shorts on but was again topless except for the badge. She also carried a large purse on one shoulder. “Good morning, slut!”

A few days before, I would have socked anyone who called me that. Now, I hung my head in shame, but not without feeling a tiny twinge of pleasure at the insult. Mentally, I tried to steel myself against her. “I’m not a slut.”

“Not yet, but you’re getting there. Look at that bikini you’re wearing!”

I did. The top looked like it was going to rip in two from the strain of holding in my tits. Tits was a word I’d never have used before, and it gave me a little thrill to think of my breasts—tits, jugs, hooters—that way. Like they weren’t really mine, but rather something for a man to play with.

“I’m wearing this because it’s the only thing you gave me.”

“But you like it, don’t you?” Dana reached down and cupped the round bottoms of my huge tits, which were exposed by the bikini top. The feel of her hand sent a wave of sensation through me, and I inhaled sharply.

“Oh yes, you’re turning into a horny little bitch. Good. So what’s with the leash, Rosemary? Why did you put that on?”

“Because...because I...um...”

She leaned close into my face. “Because you wanted to. Because you know it’s what you need.”

Once again, I cast my eyes to the floor.

Dana straightened up. “Never mind. You’ll accept the new you later. Let’s go, Rose.” With a hard tug at my collar, she led me out of my room and out the building.

I had to trot to keep up with Dana’s rapid stride. We walked past a man fucking a woman from behind, on the grass in broad daylight, but Dana didn’t even pause. A question formed in my mind. “How could you do this to another woman, Dana?”

She turned and slapped me hard. I put my hand up to my burning cheek. My eyes brimmed with tears. “How dare you question me?!", she snarled.

“I’m sorry”, was my sobbing reply, and I was. I knew that I had done wrong.

Dana’s face softened. “A good slave knows to accept things and never question or ask why. But you’re new, and I like you, so I’ll tell. I was enslaved here a few years ago, Rose, just as you are being enslaved now.”

This was an unpleasant shock. “But why? How?”

“I was a schoolteacher, and I came here under the impression that Davis Camp was hosting a seminar for elementary school teachers. I learned different.” Her look of joy clashed remarkably with her story. “I fought just as you have, Rose, but I learned to accept what I’d become, and once I’d accepted myself, I was happier than I’d ever been. You will be too. You’ll be happy and fulfilled once you’ve been fully conditioned.”

For a moment my eyes had been drawn to her nipples, but her blasé statement shook me out of my reverie. “No I won’t, I tell you. You can do all the weird kinky stuff you want to me but I’ll never submit!”

Dana just shook her head. “Rosemary, have you tried to get away? Have you asked anyone for help? Have you really thought about escape?”

My only answer was silence. “So I thought. Now, time for breakfast.”

As with all the meals here, it was light, just toast and orange juice. I started feeling weird again as Dana led me back to my room. “What have you done now?” I asked, my voice thick and slurred.

“Oh, your juice had a little something extra in it. Just about every meal you have here will be laced with chemicals that make you more docile and suggestible. Now, take off your bikini bottom.”

With trembling hands, I did so. I stood before her, my sex exposed, and I felt myself flush with a wave of arousal.

“You have a pretty pussy, Rosemary. Now sit on the bed and spread your legs for me so I can get a better look.”

I did what she wanted. I was exposed and open for her. One part of me feared that she’d take advantage, and the other part hoped she would. I looked down and I saw that I was getting wet.

“Wonderful.” Dana reached into her bag and pulled out a razor and shaving cream.

This made me quite afraid. “What are you doing?” I shrieked. I tensed up, but left my legs open for her.

“I’m going to shave you, Rosemary. Good slaves are always bare down there. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

And she didn’t. I watched, scared but fascinated, as Dana applied the shaving cream and then went to work. She shaved me with great care, running the razor all over my tender pussy, somehow shaving me completely bare without even nicking my vulnerable skin.

She stood and regarded me with a satisfied look. “There. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and I didn’t. Doesn’t it look pretty?”

I stared at my bare pussy with fascination. With no hair down there, it seemed so—open. Available. Ready for any man to use as he wished. I trembled with desire.

Dana, obviously, noticed my distress. “Here,” she said, and tossed me my dildo. Without a moment’s hesitation, I shoved it in me and stimulated myself to a massive orgasm.

After I was done, I put my bikini on and Dana took my leash in hand. Walking briskly once again, we soon found ourselves at a large gymnasium. We stood at the front door, regarding all the women on treadmills, rowing machines, and the like. Some wore skintight leotards, some wore bikinis or underwear, and some wore nothing.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

“This will be where you have your daily workout. It’ll be part of your routine from now on. We want you to lose that baby fat of yours”—and here she gave me a quick slap on the butt—“so you’ll look better for your Master.”

I deliberated for a moment. What was wrong with a workout? “OK, Dana.”

“Good, you’re getting more agreeable all the time. Now, onto the treadmill. We want you fit, but still soft and feminine like you are now.”

I hopped on the treadmill, and Dana set my program. “Here’s some music to listen to,” she said, and she put headphones on my head and hooked a Walkman to my bikini bottom. “Easy listening, with lots of subliminal instruction encoded. Enjoy!”

So I did, getting time on the treadmill and the rowing machine and then doing some sit-ups to keep my stomach nice and flat, while the music played in my ear, soft and gentle, rewiring my mind.

Afterwards, I skipped off to the showers. I felt young and happy and alive. Then, when the warm water came out of the shower head and fell down on me, I felt even better. This isn’t such a bad life, I thought.

Then Dana joined me. She was nude. I noticed with delight that her pussy was as bare as mine.

“Poor sweaty Rose. You need to get clean.” Then she lathered me up, covering my body with soap. Suds coursed down my skin as Dana ran her expert hands over every inch of my body, cleansing me, wiping all the dirt away. She kissed my boobs as she washed them, and then took a nipple in her mouth. My tits felt swollen and tender, and I gasped with pleasure as she tended to them.

I felt an orgasm building within me when Dana suddenly broke contact. Desperate for release, I threw myself against her and started humping her leg, rubbing my clit against her firm thigh.

“Poor baby. You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I could barely croak out my answer through my fog of arousal.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Yes!” I rubbed harder against her, frantic to cum.

“Good. That’s part of the program, too. You’ll want cock more than anything else, but you’ll want pussy too, because your Master wants it that way.” She paused, and then, with more than a little bit of cruelty in her voice, said, “But you won’t get any from me.”

She shoved me away from her decisively. I fell against the shower wall, sobbing, hornier than I’d ever been in my life. I slumped to the bottom of the shower stall and began masturbating, under the rain of water from the shower, lying in the bottom of the stall and rubbing my clit. I came quickly, moaning, my legs kicking and splashing in the accumulated water.

“Good girl.” Dana, who’d already put her clothes back on, turned off the water, took my leash and led me away. Only after I’d dried and put my bikini back on did I realize that I’d masturbated myself to orgasm for the second time that day, and it wasn’t even noon.

Life settled into something like a pattern after that: a session of exercise in the morning, always with the headphones, and one or two programming sessions in the afternoon, usually coupled with injections that made me docile and receptive. Slowly my feelings towards Davis Camp and what was happening to me started to change. From horror and revulsion, they evolved into glum resignation, and then, little by little, into eagerness. I struggled against these thoughts, and consciously I tried to marshal my will and resist the daily sessions, but I couldn’t physically resist—the thought by now made me ill—and the old Rosemary was slowly losing her mental battle against the slut growing within her. I could feel my mind changing, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I’d lost track of time by now, but I think it was about ten days after my arrival at Davis Camp when Matt took me to a room I’d never been to before.

“What is this place?” I asked. All I wore, by the way, were sandals and my collar. Clothes, and especially underwear, were becoming bothersome to me.

“This is the Discipline Room, Rosemary.” Matt sounded a little reluctant to tell me.

“Why am I here? What have I done?” I shrank away from him, as far as my leash would allow.

“It’s part of the training, Rose. Every girl has to go in here at least once.”

“Oh God, oh please no.” I didn’t know what happened in that room, but something told me it was terrible.

“You have to. You have to know the penalty for disobedience. Plus, I know there is a part of your mind that still resists, and it must be crushed. You have to know the pain of defiance before you know the joy of submission.”

“No, no! I don’t resist! I want to be a slave! I want to be a slut! Please change me, Matt! Please don’t make me go in there!”

His face hardened just a bit. “I know you resist, inside. Lying to me will do you no good. Now, go in.”

For the first time in forever, I think, I physically resisted him. He was stronger than me, and probably could have physically forced me in that chair, but the hypodermic he jabbed into my thigh made me pliant, as always.

Matt steered me to the chair and strapped me down. “I’m sorry, Rose. Really, I am. Remember, if you’re a good girl, you won’t ever have to come back here ever again.”

The flashing lights soon brought me out of the dream-like state the drug had put me in. They were lights, like the lights I saw in every session—but they were hard and ugly. There were shapes, like in every session—but they were sharp and cold and stabbing. There were sounds, like in every session—but they jabbed into my skull like a pneumatic drill.

I felt sick. I felt nauseous. And then the pain, pain that I felt in my head, real stabbing pain, like a thousand knives, like a thousand birds picking at my brain...

Well, enough of that. Suffice it to say that Matt had to carry me back to my room, and that he left me there all the next day, bringing my meals on a tray. It was the only day that I didn’t have any training at all. I rested, recovering from my ordeal, and looking forward to picking up my sessions the next day.

I knew the penalty for disobedience.

After a while they started working classroom sessions into our training. All of us slaves—it was still hard to think of myself as a slave, but it grew easier every day—would attend lectures on various aspects of our life of servitude. We got lessons on how to please a man. We got lessons on how to please a woman. We got cooking lessons. There were no tests, but we were encouraged to practice our sexual skills with the staff.

I remember a lesson on massage. It might have been three weeks into my training, although again I am only guessing. Our Mistress for that lecture was a short, busty Latin woman who wore only a corset. Her pussy was neatly trimmed, and her ample breasts jutted proudly over the top of the corset. She showed us her technique by giving a massage to a male staffer. She was very precise. “Concentrate on the neck muscles. A good neck rub can relax your Master quite well...”

She continued down his back and legs. When she touched the muscles of his firm ass, I felt a pang of emptiness in my pussy, and I realized that despite all the changes in me, and all they had done, not a single man had fucked me since I’d arrived. I rubbed my clit with my hand, suddenly needing to cum—of course, by then, I needed to cum almost all the time.

She turned him over, and his cock pointed straight up. It was beautiful. It bobbed back and forth a little, almost as if it were searching for a target.

Soon his manhood earned her attention. She wrapped a hand around it and said to us, “Of course, a massage may make your Master horny. If so, it’s your duty as a slave to relieve him.” She looked down at him and smiled sweetly. “Master, would you like me to pleasure you?”

“Yes.” He was utterly nonchalant.

She bent her open mouth down towards him. “No,” he said, “climb on top.”

“Yes Master!” She threw a leg over him and settled down, impaling herself on his cock. Soon she had found a slow, steady rhythm, rocking back and forth, head thrown back, moaning almost to herself. The Master remained on his back, enjoying himself, reaching up and squeezing the Mistress’ tits. I was squeezing my own tits, and rubbing myself, and the excitement was building inside me when the Master turned and caught my eye.

“You there,” he said, looking at me, “come here.”

My throat went dry, and my stomach fluttered. I tore my hand away from my pussy and strode to the massage table on the stage. Several girls flashed me envious glances.

The Mistress regarded me with lidded eyes as she rode up and down on the Master. He reached out and cupped my breast and said, a little thickly—his own arousal was plainly building—“Sit on my face, slut, facing the Mistress.”

I was petrified, but I did as he said, lowering myself onto him while supporting my weight with knees and thighs. The Mistress stared at me, her eyes a little glazed, her mouth open.

I leaned forward and kissed her. The Master stuck his tongue into me and licked my pussy as I plunged my tongue into the Mistress’ mouth. It felt wonderful. I shivered with pleasure as the Master ate away at me, and the Mistress squeezed my tender breasts. Suddenly the Mistress pulled away from me, her face contorted, and screamed with the force of her orgasm. She slid off his cock, which, slick with her juices, still stood up firm.

I knew what I had to do. I bent forward and took his shaft into my mouth, tasting the Mistress all over him. The Master’s tongue and lips worked away at my pussy, bringing me to the edge of ecstasy as I sucked on his thick rod.

My orgasm hit me like a flood, a shuddering release that I felt all over my body. I moaned deep in my throat, but I didn’t stop, though, and soon the Master rewarded me by cumming in my mouth. It seemed like he’d never stop, but I swallowed all of it. It was delicious.

After I got up, the Mistress gave me a peck on the cheek and said “Very good, Rosemary. You have served Master well.” The girls stared at me in obvious admiration as I found my prior place on the floor and sat down, trying to recover from the intensity of my climax. I closed my eyes and relived the Master’s orgasm inside my mouth. I was very proud of myself and very happy for pleasing him.

After that I went to my afternoon training session. My conditioning was sufficiently advanced that I needed neither sedatives nor escort, but went to my trainings of my own accord. I was proud to be a good slave who could be trusted to do as she was told. Not once, after that first session, did they ever have to send me to the Punishment Room.

On the way back, I saw Matt. Matt and Dana had mostly left me to my own devices over the past couple of weeks, so I was glad to see him. “Hello, Matt!”

“Hi Rosemary. How are things going?”

“Good. Really good. I’m learning a lot of things.” We were holding hands, and it was romantic and all, but it just didn’t seem right. “Matt, could you take my leash?”

“Sure, Rose,” and he took hold of my leash and led me. “You sure have come a long way. I bet you never dreamed you’d be walking around naked with a strange man, much less that you’d ask him to lead you by the collar.”

“I know, but it just feels so good for you to lead me. It makes me feel like I’m your property, like you’re my Master.”

“I’m not your Master, Rose. I’m just a trainer.”

The question that had been rattling around in my head for sometime came to the tip of my tongue, but I left it unsaid.

Finally we arrived at my room. As my conditioning advanced, they moved me from my earlier cell to a much more comfortable room, but the big screen and the bedtime programming sessions were still part of my routine. My breast brushed against him as I stepped through the doorway, and I felt a little chill. I knew then what I needed.

“Matt, could you help me with something?” I sat on my bed, trembling with need, and spread my legs for him, giving him a good view of my pussy, which I had kept shaved, and which suddenly felt so empty.

“What’s that, slut?”

“I...I need...please fuck me.” It came out as a whisper.

“What?” His smug grin told me he’d heard me perfectly well.

I did my best to speak in a calm voice. “I need to be fucked, Matt. I need you to use me. I need you to use me as a sex toy. I need you to ride me, Master.”

His smile was warmer now. “Good, Rosemary. You’ve finally gotten to the point where you offer yourself up to a man without even being asked. Excellent.” He looked me over, and then looked me in the eye. “And I think I’ll oblige you.”

He stepped out of his sandals and dropped his shorts and boxers to the floor. His cock was already hard. It took my breath away. I started to drool just a little bit.

His Davis Camp shirt joined his shorts. “Lie back, bitch.” I obeyed, shivering with anticipation of the fucking that was to come. Matt parted my legs, threw my left leg up over his shoulder, and entered me.

Oh, it was beautiful! Finally, my pussy was filled, not by some fake plastic dildo, but by a hot, throbbing cock! I parted to take him in, and for the first time in my life, I felt complete. Matt’s weight bore down on me. His strong body moved rhythmically right above mine. I lay there, panting, breathless, rocking my hips with him as he used me. Sometimes, I found enough breath to talk. “Oh God, yes, Master, oh God fuck me, oh it feels so gooooooooood...”

I used my pussy muscles to squeeze down on his prick, as I had been trained. I grabbed his hips with my hands and tried to force him deeper inside me. I moaned with every powerful thrust. I orgasmed once, twice, but still Matt—Master—pumped away inside me, his hips like a piston, his cock like a jackhammer, driving into my depths, driving me over the edge.

I don’t know how long it lasted. It might have been a few minutes. It might have been an hour. It might have been days. Time had stopped; I rode an endless wave of pleasure. Finally I had another orgasm, stronger than the first two put together, and I cried out, loud, a shriek of joy, and pleasure, and submission.

Shortly before my departure from Davis Camp, I found myself in a discussion group. About twenty of us slave girls were talking about how to be good slaves and how to please men. The group leader just happened to be my other counselor, Dana.

Dana sat on a stool. She wore a string bikini. We were naked, as usual. “So, girls, what does a man want? What does your master want?”

One girl, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, raised her hand. “Sex!”

We all laughed. Dana smiled and said, “Yes, but not all the time. After all, sometimes Master will be busy, and sometimes he won’t be in the mood. That’s not what I’m thinking about.”

Another girl piped up with “Blow jobs!”

More laughter, but Dana shook her head. “Nope. Blow jobs are a great way to please him, but I’m thinking of something more basic.”

Then I knew the answer. “Obedience.”

Dana whirled to face me. “Rosemary! Very good! That’s absolutely right. Girls, it doesn’t matter how you serve your man. You can please him in a thousand ways. What matters is that you do what he says and give him what he wants, regardless of what it is. It might be a blow job, or it might be a ham sandwich. Always remember that. It’s our most basic lesson.”

Eventually, much to my displeasure, the day came when I had to leave Davis Camp. I boarded the plane wearing a simple white blouse and brown skirt that I’d originally packed in my suitcase two months ago. It seemed like years. The clothes were bothersome, but I knew that I couldn’t go around naked all the time anymore.

Mom met me at the airport. “Hi honey! We’ve missed you!” She gave me a big hug.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

She broke the embrace and looked at me, a little teary-eyed. “Oh, let’s get you home.”

Mom chattered about her vacation with Dad for most of the way. One time, she looked at me and asked, “Did you have fun at summer camp?”

“Sure did, Mom. It was great.”

“I’ll bet that you didn’t want to leave by the end!”

“I miss it already.” I really did. The whole way home, I was filled with anxiety. What was going to happen now? At Davis Camp, I was Rosemary, the sex slave, the cock-hungry slut. Here, in the real world, I was—what?

Finally we were home. Mom opened the front door and took my suitcase in hand. “I’ll go put this in the room. You go see your father. He’s in the living room.”

So I did. I went in the living room, and there was Dad, sitting in his favorite sofa chair, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He looked up at me calmly. “Hello, Rosemary. It’s good to have you back.”

Have you ever seen those Magic Eye 3-D illusions? You know, the ones that look like a meaningless pattern of color at first glance, but show a 3-D image when you relax your eyes and look beyond the paper? From chaos, order is revealed. Well, that’s how I felt at that instant. Suddenly, I understood. All was clear.

My father was my Master.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

I obliged, quivering with nervousness and anticipation. Dad looked me over, and a faint smile came to his face. “God, you’re beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. It was worth every penny. Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me, Rosemary.”

I crawled to him, looking up at him hungrily as I crossed the carpet. I felt my tits sway gently as I made my way. Finally, I was at the foot of the sofa chair. I sat back and waited expectantly.

Dad parted his legs. It was all the signal I needed. I reached up and unzipped his blue jeans. His member was half-erect. I looked up at him and smiled, and took him in my mouth. With my lips and tongue, I made him stiff, as I’d practiced so many times at camp. Dad sighed quietly as I bobbed up and down, licking his shaft, twirling my tongue up the underside and around the tip, sucking on the tip with my lips, then plunging back down and taking all of him in again, my nose in his hair, smelling his scent.

Then I felt a pair of hands behind me. Something long and hard slid into my wet pussy. A good slave never stops sucking, but I couldn’t help but let Dad go and whirl around in shock.

It was Mom, smiling sweetly, wearing a strap-on.

I turned back to Dad, who grinned. “I didn’t tell you that twenty years ago, your mother was an alumna of Davis Camp?”

Then I took him back in my mouth. Mom gave me my first orgasm of the day a little later, and then Dad shot his load down my eager throat. My new life had begun.

AFTERMATH

It’s been two years since my summer at Davis Camp. Two years of happiness as my father’s sex slave. I know what you are thinking, Gentle Reader. I know that you probably feel sorry for me. “Poor girl”, you think. I must tell you that it is I who feel sorry for you. I have a happiness that you will never know. I have no stress. I do not worry. I have no problems. People go through life searching for love, happiness and fulfillment. I have all of those things, and I always will. You might say that it’s artificial, to which I reply, “So what?”

I graduated from high school and just completed my first year in college, on a pre-law track. Dad wants me to go to law school and then join him at the firm. He tells everybody that he wants me to inherit the practice one day, but he and I know the REAL reason he wants to keep me close.

Obviously I broke up with Jeff upon my return. I’ve dated a little, to keep up appearances, but I am still Dad’s sex toy. I fuck and suck him every chance I get, although that’s not often enough—more about that in a second. I’ve gotten proficient with morning wake-up blow jobs. Sometimes I wake him up early so I can ride him before the whole household is up and around. Once in a while he’ll lend me out to junior partners at the firm, or friends, or clients, but they don’t know what I am; they think I’m a garden variety slut.

The only problem is, as I said, I don’t get to fuck him nearly as much as I need. I go crazy sometimes, using my dildo night after night, wishing I could serve and pleasure Dad every hour of the day, but I can’t, because of one problem.

The fly in the ointment, you might say.

My sister Leslie.

Leslie is a relatively open-minded girl, but I don’t think she’d understand if she found out that her big sister is Dad’s sex toy, so we have to be very circumspect. We work around her. Dad uses me whenever Leslie is out, but, sad to say, that isn’t often enough.

Once I snuck into my parents’ bedroom in the dead of night and we had a wonderful threesome. The next morning, at breakfast, Leslie poked me in the ribs and whispered into my ear, “Did you hear Mom and Dad making the walls shake last night?” I nearly choked on my Fruity Pebbles.

I love Leslie dearly, but she’s been a problem. Luckily, however, that problem is about to be solved. Leslie’s going to Davis Camp!

She didn’t want to do it. Leslie dug her heels in and refused when Mom and Dad broached the subject. She finally caved in after I talked to her and told her about how fun Davis Camp was, and what a good time I had, and what a good time she would surely have. So she’s going, and soon everything will be fine.

We’ll be one big happy family.