The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

TETHER

by trilby else ()

58.

“Remember, Clare.” Alice’s voice was irresistibly soothing. “Remember how you were first hypnotized, before you even knew you were being put under. Back when you could still resist. Remember your focus. Remember your focus. What did you see?”

Slowly, the girl’s head swiveled toward Meredith.

“Her nipple,” she whispered, and Meredith remembered, too. She’d been hypnotized by the computer herself, aware but passive and juicing as Leslie had used her body to entice and then mesmerize the maid.

“What happened, Clare?” Alice’s voice was soft and conspiratorial. Clare’s eyelids drooped again as it cloaked her thoughts and dulled them.

“I . . . stared at it. It went out and . . . I helped to control her and send her deeper but I was being hypnotized.” Clare’s voice softened as she slid into the memory. “Sending her deeper . . . sending myself into relaxation and obedience . . .”

“Obedience,” Alice said, quietly but firmly, and all three entranced girls sighed. “To my voice.”

“To your voice,” sighed Clare, surrendering all over again.

“We spoke that first time, after Leslie let you help her hypnotize Meredith. You listened to my voice, only to my voice, and you realized something important. What was it, Clare?”

Clare nodded placidly. “That whenever I heard your voice again I would need to obey whatever it commanded.”

“Very good, Clare. Now: do you remember what we agreed you’d see, when I needed you to?”

Clare sighed. “Mount Everest.”

“Good. Start at Meredith’s nipple and then stare through the rest of the world to find Mount Everest now. Let it deepen you.”

Clare’s eyes were saucers, and Meredith could almost feel the bound consciousness behind them boring though her.

“You like to control Meredith, don’t you, Clare?”

“Yes.” Even in trance there was a sadistic leer on the other girl’s face. Meredith shivered, remembering what Clare could make her do for the guards, or herself, and then forget.

“It’s just as much fun to be my mind-controlled slave, just like her, isn’t it?”

“Yesssss.” Clare shimmied where she stood.

“Good. I have tasks for all three of my slavegirls now. I’m going to put you deeper to sleep, Clare, because the Lesliebot was mine long since and I’ve already configured little Meredith to her new purpose, but I’d like to work with you some more.

“For now, just know that you will remember and obey, and then obey and not remember. Understood?”

The maid nodded blankly. “I will remember and obey, and then I will obey and not remember.”

“Reach under your skirt now, Clare. Slip off your panties and find the wetness. Remember hypnotized Meredith . . .” Alice paused, taking in how Clare writhed to obey her. The slip of cotton dropped down her legs like a flag being struck. Meredith remembered putting her face where Clare’s hand was now, at Leslie’s command. She’d cemented Leslie’s new hypnotic domination in Clare’s mind with orgasm, just before Clare was sent off with a head full of posthypnotic suggestions to bring Frances something to drink.

Aware, at least for now, of how she’d been used, Meredith wanted to play with herself too. That night Clare had been used to start drugging her mother, but Meredith had been turned into little more than a warm obedient tool to make Clare obey. Her nude body had been a hypnotic focus, and her mouth had been a programmed dildo.

Fingers snapped. Meredith saw Leslie walk toward and past her to the dresser, not even blinking at her. Her lover retrieved some scraps of lycra and held one out to her.

“These will be your suits tonight,” Mistress said, and Meredith took the microkini like a religious vestment. She had to stop and watch as Leslie, still in her spandex-girl void, wriggled into the tiny strips of fabric with mindless sensuality, almost like a plant in a breeze. Then Leslie came back to attention, a toy in her owner’s black and yellow livery.

Meredith’s matched, and she moaned happily as she slid it on.

“Slave.”

Instantly they all faced Mistress, but she was looking only at Meredith. She gestured and Meredith went to her, falling to her knees at Alice’s feet, gazing up at her. Meredith basked in the feel of the carpet under her bare knees, the smug power on her Mistress’ face as she accepted Meredith’s servile worship in Meredith’s own room.

Something touched her upturned palms. At Mistress’ nod she glanced down to what looked like a silvery hair scrunchie—another string bikini. She held it and gazed back up.

“Your mother will look ravishing in that,” Alice observed. “Go tell her to put it on.”

Meredith rose. “I must obey,” she almost sobbed, looking into Mistress’ eyes. A preorgasmic flutter tightened her thighs.

“She must obey,” she hissed, and Alice’s smile grew nastier as she stepped aside. Clutching the racy little bikini, Meredith nearly pranced out of the suite. Behind her, her lover and the maid stood obediently, waiting for Alice to reshape their thoughts in turn.

She was almost disappointed that there was no one on the upper floor to see her. But at least the older maid whom she knew Clare had seduced met her in the hallway outside her mother’s rooms. The woman looked both shocked and aroused as Meredith glided seductively past, sparing her a sidelong glance. But she was under command, and once through the doors Meredith forgot the maid and just enjoyed how pretty her mother was.

Frances was halfway into her favorite suit, a demure green maillot which showed off her svelte hips without really displaying them. Even when she relaxed a bit after an initial gasp at Meredith’s entry, she kept her arm in front of her, holding the top halter loose before her breasts.

Her jaw dropped to see how little Meredith was wearing, and Meredith pirouetted to show it all off. The other suit was wadded in her hand, and her mother was too riveted on her to notice yet.

“Leslie picked them out,” she said. “She’s got one just like it.”

“Where did you plan to wear them?” Frances whispered. She seemed more open to her daughter’s display than she wanted to be, more vulnerable in the suit she didn’t even have fully on.

“Many places,” Meredith purred. “It shows we’re a couple and that we’re hot for each other.”

“Well, I already, um, know that—”

“Mother.” Meredith folded her arms, deliberately taking up a dignified pose that just showed off her erotic suit more intensely. “Maybe we want Alice to see what kind of girls we are, too.”

Frances started to gesture, but broke off when she nearly bared her breasts. Meredith loved how shy she seemed now, confronted with her daughter dressed like such a—decoration.

“I can’t help it, Mother.” She let the real need melt into her voice. “She’s got us all under her spell. She could have me on my knees for a smile, and I’d keep smiling if she wanted to do Leslie instead.

“Or you.” She locked eyes with her mother. “I’m helpless against it, and so’s my lover. We need to display to her—just parading around like this is like feeling a tongue in me.”

Frances jerked and didn’t seem to notice. She held the maillot in a deathgrip but her chest was heaving behind it. Meredith’s graphic words didn’t rouse her. Meredith knew she was only saying what was deep in her mother’s mind already, drawing it out where her mother would be unable to fight its power.

“I need her to want me.” Meredith started moving her hips, imperceptibly softening out of the “oh, Mother” pose. “It’s something primal, something that’s throbbing in my womb that I can’t hear—or resist.” She swallowed. “Knowing she’d never touch me—that just makes it worse, and better. I’m degrading myself before her and that just makes it so . . . much . . . h-hotterrrr . . .”

She was dancing now, a slow grind of her hips. She saw Frances’ gaze locked on her hips, locked between them, her head weaving now as she followed it. When Frances snapped out of it she found Meredith’s eyes, and her own were haunted.

Before she could plead, Meredith moaned, like someone who’d finally slid her legs around what she wanted. She kept swaying.

“It’s in you, too, Mother. The need. Being Alice’s pet, her toy, her slave. You feel it—it’s like a warm leather harness on your soul, just like the ones she’s put on me and on Leslie. You need her to see your body, to want it. And to know it’s hers, if she does.”

Frances looked like she wanted to collapse, but couldn’t make it to the bed.

“Mmm. Being with her without even a silk blouse to protect you—just you in your pretty skin, a little bit of glitter over your tits and pussy like foil over candy, hoping she wants a taste, a nice sweet bite of you. Think of being the sensuous little princess Alice woos and coaxes to bed.”

Meredith was suddenly still, putting her hands behind her and thrusting out her breasts. Frances nearly fell over.

“Or better than that—just being her fuckbunny. No love, no dignity, just being the toy that keeps her happy.”

She stepped forward, grinning, putting her hands together and then parting them to show the two pieces of the suit. “You’ll need to wear this for her, Mother. She’s already undressed you with her eyes and she likes you. But you need to show her how fully hers you want to be. How she’s welcome to your body as much as to any other amenity this place has to offer.”

Frances looked from one to the other, seeing how little there was, and mouthed No. She shook her head. But she didn’t try to meet Meredith’s eyes.

“You’re already wishing you’d let her hypnotize you at dinner. Then she could make you wear anything. Or nothing at all.” Meredith watched her mother squirm, but the maillot was too dark to see if there was any moisture at her crotch yet.

“But think how erotic it will be to be wearing this, and nothing else, when you finally surrender to it and let her do you.”

Frances’ head-shake was wide-eyed and desperate this time.

“Then you’ll need to be hypnotized into it anyway.”

Now Frances did look at her in alarm, as though some part of her remembered despite all the programming to forget.

“Please, baby, what—”

“You’re hypnotized now, Mother. Obey me.”

Meredith’s own trance kept her from crying out as she watched her mother’s eyes glaze over. The older woman straightened as the trigger set her up for control. Her hands dropped to her sides and the swimsuit’s halter fell to her waist. Her small, shapely breasts swung a little and settled, as though dazed to be visible. Meredith was sad Mistress couldn’t see her like this.

“Yes. I’m deeply hypnotized now.” Her voice was sleepy but rough with arousal. “I’m ready to obey you.” It sounded like a bed promise this time.

Meredith went to her and sucked gently on her right breast, not distracted by her mother’s quaver. Kissing her mother deeply, she stared into her eyes from inches away, pushing Mistress’ will into the hypnotized mind of the woman Mistress wanted.

“When I leave you will not remember that I was here—only another lovely masturbation fantasy. This time about your dear friend mindfucking your dear daughter into a predatory little whore and sending her for you.

“About how wet it all made you.”

She kissed Frances again, lingeringly, lightly biting her lips. She brushed a fingertip across her mother’s cleft behind its spandex.

“You’ll know what suit you want Alice to see you in.”

59.

Meredith entered the mansion’s spa, excited by having walked around the great house in nothing but this less-than-barely-there suit that screamed plaything in a breathy voice.

She stopped thinking about anything else when she saw Alice.

Alice’s one-piece suit, black and high-collared, was cut high on the hip. She looked hot and aloof at once. In the spa she looked regal, European, and Meredith felt deliciously inferior.

Leslie had been openly gaping at her guest when Meredith came in, and then she seemed to wake from her fixation.

Then the door opened, and they all looked as Frances walked in.

She’d put a silk shirt on over her swimsuit, and Meredith saw her stance and heard her heels before she saw her mother had worn stilettos. She’d swept her hair up away from her neck, and her makeup was tasteful but very noticeable.

Alice watched her, languid and lithe as a cat, with a cat’s avid stare at a soft pretty mouse.

Frances rolled her hips as she sauntered in, and when the open shirt flared back, her thighs were round and sleek on either side of the bright silver delta over her cleft.

When she’d awakened from Meredith’s hypnosis, she’d chosen the bikini. Meredith pictured her doing it all in a new, erotic trance, making herself into this little starlet for Alice.

Her eyes were riveted to Alice, and as she came to the dais where the Jacuzzi was her hands reached up, limp-wristed, to drop the shirt and display herself.

“Wait,” Alice told her.

She stopped, and her hands floated down again to her thighs. Before, in the gym as the Instructress and her enslaved daughter had played with her mind, her hands had fluttered there, but now they hung relaxed. She swayed a little, but held her place, yielding to Alice.

Alice uncoiled sinuously and stood for a moment, higher than all of them—the two girls in the water, the fascinated woman who awaited her will. She stepped down to Frances’ level and openly leered at how the shirt advertised more than covered her. Slowly, smiling, she reached forward, grasping Frances by the shoulders.

Meredith watched her mother respond. It was almost how Alice had touched them when she’d hypnotized them at dinner. Her mother stood meekly as Alice gently flicked the shirt back and off her shoulders, as though unveiling the bride.

Even more than the leotard, the silver scraps showed off Frances’ soft curves. Now she looked like a captive barbarian princess from a ‘30s pulp-magazine cover, pink and voluptuous and vulnerable enough to taste. The false metal cupping her breasts blatantly showed her nipples, and the vertical smile down the tiny gleam where her thighs met was not a seam in the suit.

Meredith had held the suit but hadn’t realized how sweetly obscene it would actually be on a female body. Frances would get arrested if she tried wearing it anywhere in public—and that would mean being led away with her wrists in manacles, ripe and helpless . . .

Frances flaunted herself for Alice’s gaze. But as she stared into Alice’s eyes, she seemed about to fall toward her for a kiss. Alice ran a hand down Frances’ arm and took her hand.

“You’re beautiful, dear,” Alice said. Meredith watched her mother melt.

Frances glowed. She shivered at whatever impulse went through her then—to kiss, to kneel, to press her face to the lycra between Alice’s thighs and lick around it.

Alice settled gracefully to the dais and drew her closer, and Frances let herself be drawn. Alice reached gently to the back of Frances’ left thigh and stroked her, instead.

“Let me,” she murmured, and pulled the other woman down to her lap. They stared at each other nose to nose as Alice undid the straps at Frances’ ankles, neither one blinking as each stiletto clattered to the tiles.

Alice whispered and Frances floated from her lap to stand again, like a magician’s assistant levitated after trance. Alice stepped into the Jacuzzi and led Frances in. They settled in, sighing with pleasure. Frances closed her dreaming eyes and opened focused ones, as though the last few moments had been a private fantasy she’d just had.

“Mmm.” She turned to Meredith and Leslie, who found themselves holding each other and standing in mid-tub as they’d watched.

“Don’t turn it on yet.” Her whisper was husky. “I just want to soak. For a while.” She slid down until her breasts, soft and pale outside the tight silver, were level with the warm water that lapped at them. She glanced slyly aside at Alice, who smiled at the way it showed them off. She was finally loose enough to flirt openly with her friend, and Meredith couldn’t imagine an evening that started like this, with her mother dressed like that, that wouldn’t end in both women wrapped round each other.

Overcome with lust she turned blindly and kissed Leslie, but when she looked back Frances was watching her, starting to blush again. Even watching her daughter kissing her girlfriend, she saw her child and not a pair of pretty lesbians.

Alice sensed the fading mood. “An audience can be awkward.”

Her worldly drawl didn’t startle her prey, and Frances just turned to her. “I don’t want them to . . .”

“The solution is simple, Frances. Our sleeping beauties just need to listen carefully and—”

“Hmmph!” Leslie rallied. “I got my little love-muffin here in the pool, and you are not going to hypnotize us into just standing here.” Meredith laughed with her.

Alice smiled. “All right. We can all enjoy the Jacuzzi, together, feeling the sensual, warm water on our bodies, soothing and relaxing.” She reached and turned the jets on, a gentle setting, and the water bubbled over the pulse of the mechanism. “Soothing . . . and relaxing.”

She nodded at the girls. “Why not hold each other?”

“That command, I can obey,” Leslie said, turning and putting her arms around Meredith. They slid their bodies together while Alice nattered on about how warm and tranquilizing the water was, and as she kissed Leslie deeply, so deeply, she could feel Leslie’s wet warmth, too . . . Alice paused . . . spoke . . . they kissed again . . . so deeply . . .

. . . “You’re hypnotizing them again?” The words blurred into the whitenoise and soothed Meredith into deeper lethargy . . .

. . . they swayed together before the two seated, stunningly beautiful older women, but the more Meredith tried to raise her eyes to look at them, the heavier her eyelids grew, and the easier it was just to look down at where the water lapped and gleamed and flickered against her thighs and Leslie’s, their shared female curves bisected by the waterline that rose . . . and dipped . . . and curved too . . . tranquilizing . . .

. . . “You see they want it, Frances. They’re submitting to it. They enjoy being controlled like this . . . so safe . . .” A voice she was already used to, inside her head where it became what she thought. She let her mind go numb until she heard, once more, the whisper meant for her . . .

. . . she and Leslie were propped against each other, holding each other up numbly, cunts pressed together, listening while someone spoke right into their minds . . .

Meredith blinked and shared a smile with the other SlaveGirl, Leslie.

Yes. Of course. She worked here at The Resort, as one of its SlaveGirls, serving and pleasing a select clientele who could afford and savor obedient beauty. Like most of the consensually but deeply hypnotized staff, she and Leslie were lovers, and performed well as a set.

Yes. She remembered clearly now. She must have drifted off. She was an especially good hypnotic subject. It made her an especially desirable SlaveGirl.

Glancing at their identical bikinis, both SlaveGirls felt the usual thrill of being property. Then they turned to their guests.

“They believe they’re—slaves?” The smaller, softer woman in the daring silver micro spoke wonderingly.

Lovers also, perhaps. Or soon to be—the lovely tall one in the black with the commanding voice was casting her spell on the other. Meredith smiled. Even if neither wanted to use them, SlaveGirls were well-trained at putting women in the mood for each other.

“That’s right,” the woman in black said. “With the hypnosis, they believe it completely now.

“Don’t you, girls?”

Meredith smiled, and she and Leslie glided forward in the water. “Of course, my Mistress. We believe whatever you tell us to.

“Welcome to The Resort, my Mistresses. We are for you and for your pleasure.” Together she and Leslie knelt, reaching under the water and lightly massaging the other women’s legs—she’d been drawn to the dominant in black, and Leslie to the quieter woman in silver.

The Dominant just looked deeply into Meredith’s eyes. Then she said, “Enough,” and both SlaveGirls pulled back to kneel gracefully in the water.

“Girls? Tell us the real reason this resort is so proud of you.” The Dominant smiled.

“We obey everything and everyone, my Mistresses,” Meredith breathed, enjoying the strange, sad look the silver woman gave her.

“We remember nothing and no one, my Mistresses,” Leslie murmured.

“Why?” the silver woman asked.

Both SlaveGirls rose smoothly to attention, not even making waves against their mistresses, and spoke in unison.

“Because we are hypnotized.”

They stayed that way, on display for the two guests at their ease.

“Serve us now,” the Dominant instructed them.

Again together, they said, “We obey!”

Leslie turned like a sleepwalker and climbed out of the Jacuzzi to the level behind the two guests, kneeling to massage the silver woman’s shoulders. She stared blankly ahead as she worked.

Meredith found herself leaving the water, too, enjoying the slight chill as she padded gracefully to the bar and found the wine and stemware. Both guests watched her as she carefully stepped back into the water and bent to serve them.

The water’s steady pulse was hypnotic, too. As Meredith went fluidly through the motions of pouring, it was easy to find Leslie’s glassy eyes and feel herself fall further as the Jacuzzi throbbed.

Perhaps these guests would play with her and Leslie after all, later, when the throbbing and the warm scented water and their own slow obedience had them too deeply hypnotized even to know what was happening.

That felt nice.

Smiling, the Dominant looked at Meredith. She snapped her fingers.

Meredith shuddered as she felt the trigger take her, and came to attention there in the water as it swirled warmly around her thighs, teasingly coming no closer to her thirsty pussy. She held the serving tray in front of her and stared forward, a SlaveGirl statue. She saw Leslie kneel erect, hands behind the small of her back and thighs primly together, her eyes even more faraway now.

Meredith heard the guests whispering. The more it excited her, the more rigid she stood, enjoying how helplessly she had to obey the compulsion to be still, to be pretty and attentive and utterly without will until bidden.

Blankness started to take her. She was just a slave, put aside with no need to think. Without knowing why, she tried to stay aware, but her mind was so small now that little things conquered it—the Jacuzzi’s throbbing hum, the water’s rhythmic caress. The other stupefied SlaveGirl.

Her enslavement locked her in a blissful closed loop, and as she heard it and felt it she thought of the water, flowing past their bodies, through the filters, around and around and around . . .

Meredith stood still, mindlessly holding the tray like a good SlaveGirl. Her thoughts swirled endlessly like the water now, warm and wet and empty.

60.

She woke with her hand between her legs. Last night was a blur, but a very sexy one. She remembered standing very still in an odd place, on display, and the hottest thing was not being able—or willing—to move.

Some of it came back into focus. Her mother and Alice, cozy in the Jacuzzi. Had they been flirting? She smiled. If she crept to her mother’s bedroom door, what might she hear in there?

Her hand tensed against her cunt. She pictured her mother slurping shamelessly between Alice’s shapely thighs, her silver-decorated ass wiggling above. She tried for an instant not to climax at the image of her mother submitting in bed to another woman—but giving in to it made the climax hotter.

She noticed Leslie was gone, but felt strangely unconcerned.

There was something more important to think about: I must go outside. She showered as if in a dream and found herself pulling on a clingy miniskirt and baby-T, savoring how they felt on her skin with nothing underneath. In the mirror, they showed off everything, from her stiffening nipples to the smoothshaven Y below. Taking the platform sandals from the other day she strapped them on, perching on them to see how they showed off her legs.

She looked in the mirror at a bratty little rich girl, dressed to tease. Then she strode out, liking how the air felt as it slipped inside the dress, anticipating how it would feel outside.

It felt better than that. She stood on the lower back terrace, feeling the warmth of the sun on its flagstones reflected up her skirt.

“Beautiful day, Miss, isn’t it?”

She gasped and spun to see Leigh and Maya again. Two sleek huntresses in dark comfortable clothing, who’d crept up on her in their silent shoes. She remembered the hypnosis game, and how dark it had gotten as she helped Leigh drug and hypnotize Maya. They’d tasted different but both made her wet to recall.

Maya had lost her uncertainty since then. Maybe Leigh had reinforced her since. Both of them had strange eyes now, terribly aware of how she looked and how vulnerable she was. Meredith’s belly fluttered as she realized how little she wore, and how much of her it showed them.

She sighed and stepped trustfully closer. “Yes, it is. Beautiful.”

Leigh grinned and looked openly at her breasts in the tight top, her eyes moving as though following their contours. She chuckled as she watched the nipples strain out as just her gaze aroused Meredith.

“Would you—?” Maya began.

“Never mind,” Leigh said, looking up again. “She’s reprogrammed. No need to ask her anything.”

“What d—?”

“Crystal dancer,” Leigh said, and Meredith saw only the glass teardrop again.

I was just pretending to be hypnotized, she thought sleepily. I must be pretending now, too.

“I must obey,” she said softly, and Leigh nodded.

“That’s good, slut. Come with us and speak to no one.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She turned and drifted where they led her. Around the house, there was one of the SUVs Capaldi’s corps used. It excited her to see they’d parked it out of all sightlines. Once behind the tinted windows, she’d be invisible, and only these two women would know where she was.

But they were her bodyguards.

And she had to obey them.

When Maya opened the back door, she paused only briefly at the step before raising her thigh and feeling the skirt ride up. Leigh’s hand was cool as it cupped her ass and lifted her, but didn’t reach inward. Vaguely disappointed, she settled herself on the back seat and stared placidly forward like a tame hypnotic subject. She didn’t move when a warmer hand palmed her thigh.

“Wait your turn,” Leigh laughed, and the hand left her. “No one rides with the cargo yet.

“Seatbelt,” she said a moment later, glancing at Meredith in the rearview when both bodyguards were up front. Meredith dutifully belted in.

“Go to sleep.” Meredith sighed and slumped back, letting her head loll to the side.

Fingers snapped and she sat upright. She’d slept, as she’d been told to, and the SUV was parked in a clean but empty lot surrounded by warehouses. Maya and Leigh stood below the open door, and she knew she must undo the belt. She slid forward to Maya’s waiting hands and let them take her hips, half-dropping and finding herself up against the bodyguard, feeling the woman’s clothes through her own thin layer of fabric.

She thought of rubbing herself against Maya’s front, but she was hypnotized. Maya let go and stepped back without doing more.

The guards went to one of the warehouse doors and she followed wordlessly, and they mockingly bowed her through, her sandals sounding fussy and weak on the concrete among their silent footfalls.

Inside was a gym, spartan and industrial. It was small but very well-appointed, bright under fluorescent lights. Posters adorned the walls, but first Meredith looked at the few patrons. Just as she noticed all were women, she recognized them as Capaldi’s, all of them.

They looked so sexy it hurt. They were all in the same exercise costume, a dark gray jogbra and tight briefs, but whether muscular or whiplike they were all straining and sleek and lovely.

Other women looked like staff. They were also alike but in a much more soulless way that excited Meredith and scared her a little, and she felt as though she recognized them, too. They dressed identically in short-shorts and zippered sleeveless tops, black with yellow trim. Spandex over improbably fit bodies. Hair short or tied back. Wraparound sunglasses, looking in here not silly but dangerous, almost insectile.

Supple wasps.

They stood unnaturally still or moved sinuously among the Capaldi bodyguards, and suddenly she realized they looked like the Instructress—as though from the same hive. The bodyguards, locked robotically into their routines, seemed as blank as she and Leslie did under the Instructress’ spell, passive and completely submissive to the spandex girls in black and yellow.

Like warriors keeping hive drones under control by touch and smell. Meredith ached and tried to think through the thought-quenching lust.

Two of the guards stood at attention and watched something on the wall. Things that pulsed, and might be spinning, to which each one was linked with headphones. They were in a line of round things, and Meredith saw the motionless spiral on the nearest.

A supple wasp in spandex went to one of the guards and passed her hand over the woman’s face, making her head droop. The spandex girl removed the headphones and turned the spiral off, then inspected the bodyguard as she stood slackly. A tap to the forehead restored the guard to blank-faced awareness, and after the spandex girl spoke the guard pivoted, her gaze crossing Meredith’s unseeingly as she turned and went to an open exercise machine.

Meredith trembled. The women who were charged with keeping her safe were here in this place being brainwashed. She should be terrified. She was terribly aroused.

One blank-faced drone in gray stepped off a treadmill and went to an open space on the floor, then turned to look up at the posters on the wall. These were all photos of women, life-size or nearly.

The guard reached down into her tiny briefs and started to play with herself, looking at the pictures of the women. Of one woman, in various dress and poses.

Pictures of Meredith.

For a moment, she gaped, suddenly chilled. There were shots of her out walking in short-shorts, quite a few in or around the pool or sunbathing. There were others, taken nude through her bedroom window when she’d stood heedlessly close while playing with Leslie.

One, even larger than the rest, was from the shower in the gym, and she had no idea how she’d missed the camera. In the picture, she stood in the spray with her knees bent, one hand tight inside herself, the other cruelly twisting a breast, arching her back as she masturbated. Her eyes were crossed and mindless, and her mouth was slack and open and screaming, just as she’d come.

When the sight of that picture freed her, she was wide awake. The gym was silent. The spandex girls in their opaque wraparounds ignored her, looking even more like insects as they busily took the spirals and other equipment down, leaving the last woman being brainwashed until the end before waking her to remove her unit. Meredith realized that they were taking away whatever made this look like anything but a gym specialized for women with a fetish for . . .

. . . her.

As if programmed to be unaware of the spandex girls, the bodyguards were staring at her now, flat-eyed. They still looked hypnotized, but they were focused on her. One or two looked briefly at the pictures and then back at her.

A chime sounded. With a single gesture, Capaldi’s women reached to their crotches and began to stroke themselves, staring at her.

She was mortified, and she was getting very frightened, and she wanted to put her hand there, too, while they watched.

She turned to the door, and was amazed to see a clear path. Leigh and Maya had stepped aside, slipping off their jackets and slacks. Their faces were blank now, too. They wore matching grey jogbras and briefs, and as they dropped the last of their outer clothes on the gym carpet, they moved their hands and stroked themselves, like the others.

Leigh smiled again, and under her empty eyes it was somehow the scariest thing Meredith had seen here. It was also the sexiest, and she had to make herself look away.

Meredith sucked in her breath and started for the door. The sandals kept her from running and there was no time to undo the straps and lose them. She realized she was just mincing rapidly. No one spoke, and she kept going, strutting, trying to fight how turned-on it made her to move like that. The juice lubricated her thighs.

She saw the door handle and reached for it.

“Slut.”

Meredith froze.

It was as if Leigh had cupped her crotch and rubbed, except it flowed over her whole body and soaked into her brain. It paralyzed Meredith’s body but she felt her will go vague and soft too.

I must obey.

She came to attention, staring at the way out, now, with complete disinterest. She glowed with the wait for another command.

“Come to us.”

Stiffly as a robot, dripping with humiliating need, Meredith turned to obey.

61.

As she slipped deeper into this new trance with each helpless, compulsive step toward them, her brainwashed bodyguards seemed to be waking from theirs. They were sweaty and pumped and strong, no longer blankly dronelike, and they were all turned on and all focused on her. Leigh and Maya had joined them, and seemed equally drained of identity now.

She was a drowsy bird being charmed into the snakepit, and she needed their mouths on her. She knew hers would be full of them, soon.

The spandex girls had made the mind control devices disappear, and now stood among the gray-clad guards. As if on a signal, the spandex girls each turned slightly toward the ear of the nearest guard. One, next to Maya, moved her lips.

Maya said numbly, “We brought the little bitch.”

The others stared, hands still on their clefts but unmoving now. Another pair of expressionless lips under wraparounds moved silently next to a motionless guard in gray.

The guard recited, “You got her hypnotized, too.”

Leigh’s ventriloquist had her say, “It was easy. The little whore has no willpower.”

When the next spandex girl whispered, her drone said nothing, but went over to a boombox on the floor and turned it on. It was an inanely thumping aerobics soundtrack, but the bass slammed through Meredith’s chest and down inside her cunt before she heard it, and just through instinct she resisted the primal need to let it take control of her.

She saw the coolly aloof spandex girls standing still, and the brainwashed drones who’d been her bodyguards even more rigid. Too deeply under control even to submit to the beat.

That broke her and she started writhing to it, the only thing moving in the high, echoing space.

For a few erotic moments she danced for them and they stared at her. Then each spandex girl whispered her drone to sleep and touched the woman awake, and then stepped back in a single movement. As the throbbing music held Meredith and kept her swaying her hips and moving her arms, the Capaldi bodyguards advanced toward her, slowly and unblinkingly. Their eyes were as shiny and wet and half-open as their lips, and they raised their hands.

Meredith tried vaguely to break out of the spell of her dance but she couldn’t, and the more she lost the struggle the sweeter it was to fail. As the women reached her she was frantically thrusting her hips and she realized she’d been licking her lips in desperate invitation. They raised their hands like film zombies.

They tore her clothes off. The baby-T went quietly to rags at the first touch but the stretch knit of the miniskirt held. Meredith danced into it as the women pressed around her, stroking and grasping. They pulled the skirt up until it was a thick dark braided belt at her waist and their hands freely violated her soaked pussy. She tried to trap them inside but her slick thighs betrayed her, and she had no control—they penetrated in their rhythm, not hers.

She lost her balance but they held her up, and then someone’s pull on the skirt flipped her over, and they all collapsed together. The skirt started down her thighs—and then back up, as her arms were pinioned and slipped under it. In a moment they had Meredith bound at her ribcage, arms behind her.

They pulled her up onto her knees and pushed her forward, and she found someone sprawled in front of her, wearing only the jogbra. She stared up tanned legs to a pale bikini zone and an unruly dark-blonde bush, and sucked in the sharp smell of the woman’s want.

They let her slither up between the woman’s thighs, the rug burning her skin and making her hotter. Her breath was sawing out of her and as she panted onto the waiting pussy the woman sagged back and groaned. Meredith breathed her in and then felt someone push her down to work.

Hands invaded her pussy and ass at once and she made her own sound into the cunt she served. Someone humped her upper arm, hot and slick and scratchy, sliding rapidly over and over against the rucked-up skirt that held her.

She climaxed but the sex went on and she wanted it to, feeling as pretty and cheap as the dance mix that pulsed from the boombox. Her turn-on was back before she knew it was spent, and this time she was on her back, pushing her tongue between two tight, hard asscheeks to an acrid rosebud she wanted more than life itself. As if to keep her focused, something slick, hard, and cold probed her own back hole. With a stifled moan she opened to whatever it was as it slid in.

The perfect ass that held her squeezed her face as its owner came. She thrashed, smothering and trying to keep tonguing. The bodyguard slid down, fucking herself on Meredith’s chin and then straddling her throat.

Someone screamed.

Even over the loud music it rang with pain and rage, and as she blinked in the sudden light after the perfect ass, Meredith twisted her head on the floor to look above her, toward the door.

The cry came again, now tinged with disbelief.

Four figures were silhouetted against the outer daylight in the doorway, and she was excitedly conscious that what they could see of her was a come-slicked face, hair awry and partly-pomaded back by more girlhoney. Upside down and framed by the ass of the woman who’d fucked her mouth. Eyes unfocused and mouth swollen and open.

Her eyes matched the light, and she saw who had just come in to see her being taken. She felt her thighs being parted, and something sliding down the inside of one.

Just as her eyes met her mother’s, a tongue slathered her clitoris and orgasm turned her world bright pink.

She and Frances screamed together.

TO BE CONTINUED