The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“MUAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!”

Ming-Li started with alarm. She looked up at her Master with a touch of confusion. “Um.... yes, Master?”

“It’s my evil laugh! As a mad scientist, I should have a good evil laugh. What do you think, Ming-Li? Be honest.”

Ming-Li winced visibly, then regained her composure. She hated these situations. Master had programmed her to be unfailingly loyal, and disobedience was unthinkable. When Master said to be honest, that’s what she had to be. But that didn’t make it pleasant.

“Um... I think if you did that in public, people would...” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “They would not hold you in the highest respect, Master.”

“You mean they’d think that I was an idiot.”

Ming-Li lowered her head. “Yes, Master.”

Damascus smiled and said, “Yeah, I know. I was just horsing around.” He reached forward and tousled her hair, sending a brief, but overwhelming shudder of pleasure through her. His touch always did that.

Ming-Li relaxed. Her Master liked doing this to her now and then. He had a whimsical sense of humor at times. He was the most brilliant man she had ever met, and like most true geniuses, he definitely had his eccentricities. In this case, he deliberately did something asinine. He walked into the room and laughed maniacally at the top of his lungs. Then he asked her to honestly say what she thought.

Then he stood there, watching with amusement, as she squirmed with discomfort. Torn between her command to be truthful, and the pain of saying something negative about her Master.

She didn’t mind. She couldn’t mind, really. She was completely his slave. She ached with love for him every minute of the day. Every second of her life was spent in his service. She never had a thought that wasn’t in some way related to him. Ming-Li was, in a very real sense, a fanatic. So, if he used her for a momentary amusement, that was fine. It was all part of what she was for.

“So, what’s up, sweetie?”

“Just finishing up the books for the month, Master.”

“How are they?”

She sighed, “Same as last month, Master. Between the money coming in from your patents and government grants, and the money going out for your experiments and research, you’re barely breaking even.”

“So, I need to find another source of income. Well, we’ll work something out. We always do.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m going to fuck one of the rubber slaves, then go to bed. Join me in bed when you’re done.”

“Yes, Master. Oh, that reminds me, Master, one of the rubber slaves is about to expire. We need to find a replacement.”

“No problem. Easy enough to do. See you later.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Expire” was the term they used when a rubber slave reached the end of its life. The treatments that rubber slaves underwent left them nearly mindless, blindly obedient and not needing to eat, drink, or sleep. They drew their energy from ambient sources of heat and light, supplemented by “protein injections” i.e. cum. However, they only tended to last about 5 or 6 years before breaking down. Still, they were easy to make. You just needed to find a girl. She didn’t need to be smart or pretty. She just needed to be there. After the transformation, all the rubber slaves looked and acted identically. Their skins were coated completely with silvery-grey rubber. Their heads became hairless, faceless masks. Their feet were shaped into 9-inch stiletto heels forcing them to walk on their toes like ballet dancers. The tips of their shoes were narrow and small, causing them to walk on two small points, heel and toe. Normal humans could not stand or walk like that for long. Rubber slaves were no longer normal humans, and were able to walk as long as they needed to, with a strange mincing grace, and stand motionless on their odd feet, forever if need be. Or at least until they expired.

Of course, they were fully usable, sexually. They appeared completely mouthless and sexless, but slits could open in the mouth, vagina and anus to allow penetration. They could use their mouths to speak if necessary, but only in a quiet whisper. But it was almost never necessary for them to speak.

They also had freakishly large breasts. Massive, basketball sized globes jutting out from their chests, at odds with the narrow and slender waist. This flared out again to wide hips, and a large, but well-formed bottom. Ming-Li had remarked upon this, when the first rubber slave had been created.

“It looks unnatural,” she had said.

“Just the way I want it,” Damascus had replied, “It’s a toy. A doll. It’s not a real person anymore and shouldn’t look like one. Plus, I’m a guy. I like big tits.”

The rubber slaves were tall. The first rubber slave had been 5′7″ before its transformation, and the alteration of its feet had left it at 6′4″. Damascus was of average height, about 5′9″, but liked fucking the larger than life slave. Later slaves were transformed to be exactly the same height and appearance. Damascus had no idea which of his rubber slaves were which. He liked that.

Damascus walked upstairs to the bedroom. As he entered, he spoke to the rubber slave standing on it’s spot in the corner. “Bed,” he said, curtly. The rubber slave walked toward the bed and lay down on it. Damascus undressed and climbed on top of the rubber slave, enjoying the slick feel of its skin. He was already erect, but that was normal. His sex drive was very high. He could ignore his drive for long periods of time if something else was engrossing him, like a research project, or developing an invention, but otherwise he preferred to have sex many times a day.

He liked to compare himself to Sherlock Holmes and his cocaine addiction. Holmes would lose himself in drugs, if he didn’t have a case to occupy his mind. Damascus’s distraction was more carnal in nature.

The sex was enjoyable, in a perfunctory way. He climbed on the slave, entered it, and thrust mechanically until climax. Then he lay next to the slave, debating whether or not he felt like another fuck. Not yet, he decided, save it for Ming-Li. She’d be here in a bit, and he haven’t had her in a couple of days. “Done.” he said to the rubber slave. It silently sat up, turned, stood up from the bed and walked from the room. It was going to the slaves’ shower room to clean itself. When it was done, it would return and stand in its corner again, awaiting further orders.

Damascus loved his rubber slaves. They weren’t interesting or fun or surprising like his playmates often could be, but they were reliable, and unless he was working on a project, he fucked a rubber slave at least once or twice a day. Even when engrossed in a scientific project, he kept one nearby, in case he needed to take a break. They were what he did instead of masturbation.

A few minutes later, Ming-Li showed up, and he fucked her, too.

“Jane, am I evil?”

“Yes,” Jane answered.

Damascus blinked with surprise. “I am? How do you figure?”

Jane put her drink down on the bar and paused, formulating her thoughts, “Well, we have to decide how to define evil. We can view it either subjectively or objectively. I am not really capable of viewing you subjectively, since I’ve been your obedient slave ever since you put me in that chair of yours. You took me, the most hardcore dyke on the planet, and turned me into someone who would happily spend the rest of her life sucking your cock.”

Damascus smiled at that, making a mental note to have her suck his cock later. Jane was an attractive young woman of average height, slender build and closely cropped brown hair. She dressed casually in a t-shirt, baggy pants and black-rimmed glasses.

“So, I can’t really think of you as evil,” Jane continued, “I can’t really tell good from evil anymore, when it comes to you. I mean, you turn women into mind controlled slaves. Intellectually, I know that is wrong. But every emotion in me tells me you have a perfect right to do so.”

“Yes, I do,” Damascus said.

“You see? You calmly imply that all women are yours to take, and that doesn’t fill me with rage. So, I think the subjective viewpoint is out. We have to look at it from an objective viewpoint.”

“Okay. What objective standard are you using? Religious morality?”

“Societal. What you do would legally be considered rape. And it takes people’s freedom in the most literal way. That goes against most of the principles the free world believes in. So by society’s standards, yes, you are evil.”

Damascus nodded, then ordered another drink

“Why do you ask, by the way? Not having moral qualms, I assume.”

“No, I was just wondering if I should have an evil laugh. Ming-Li said I would look stupid.”

“Well, if Ming-Li managed to stop kissing your ass long enough to say something like that, maybe you should listen to her.”

Damascus laughed, “Good point.”

Jane was one of Damascus’ playmates. She was obedient and loyal, but still had a great deal of autonomy. She lived her own life, held a job and even had sexual affairs. Nothing serious, though. The psychological treatment she had received kept her from forming any strong emotional attachment to anyone but her Master. She had friendships, and plenty of casual affairs and one-night stands, but Master was always first in her heart and mind. She was still a lesbian, except where Damascus was concerned. The physical treatments he’d given her ensured that she would stay young and healthy for about 350 years, and wouldn’t show signs of age until the last decade or so.

After a moment of silence, Damascus remarked, “I’m looking for a new rubber slave.”

“Another one? You go through those things pretty quick.”

“Can’t be helped. Anyway, Ming-Li is on the lookout for a replacement.”

“I have a better idea. Let’s go to the Hideaway and see if there is a good band playing.”

“How is that a better idea?”

“Because I hardly ever go there anymore. Mostly due to this loud bitch who’s been hanging out there a lot. She shows up, gets drunk, and runs around insulting everyone. She thinks she’s really hot, and she isn’t. She thinks she’s really cool and popular, and she’s not. She needs to have her face and personality erased.”

“Great. Let’s go. Maybe Nikki’s working there tonight.”

“You know Nikki?”

“I own Nikki.”

“M? Can I ask a question?”

“Sure,” Damascus said. They were outside the Hideaway. It was still early. The band hadn’t started yet, the loud bitch hadn’t showed up and they were enjoying the warm night. Jane puffed at a cigarette.

“Why aren’t you ever caught?”

“At what?”

“At anything. You build machines that enslave people, transform people, and grant immortality. You kidnap women to serve as rubber slaves. People have to miss them. Why don’t the cops catch you? Why doesn’t the government haul you away?”

Damascus leaned quietly against the wall, thinking. Then he replied, “I’m unreal.”

Jane smirked, “Was that an actual answer?”

“Yep. If you want the full explanation, it will take some time.”

Jane checked her watch pointedly, “We’ve got time.”

“Okay,” he paused for a minute, formulating his answer, then continued, “Do you know the term ‘undead?’” he asked.

“Yeah. Vampires and zombies and stuff.”

“Yes. What does the term ‘undead’ literally mean?”

Jane thought, “I supposed it means not alive, but not dead. Like halfway. Like a vampire walks and talks, but it doesn’t breathe or have a heartbeat.”

“Exactly. Undead is the nebulous middle ground between living and dead. That’s what ‘unreal’ means. I am in the grey area between reality and fantasy.”

“You lost me, M.”

“I heard about this while talking to another mad scientist, a Professor Laura Vandergriff.”

“Do you own her?”

“Nope. Could’ve actually, but I chose not to. Professional courtesy. Anyway, I was at a sort of symposium of mad scientists. Most of us specialize. Some are into the mechanical stuff. I am into alteration of mind and body. Laura is an odd one. She’s a theorist. She doesn’t create much on her own, but she understands the concepts of mad science more than anyone, and scientists willing to work with her generally achieve new heights, or at the very least develop a better understanding of their own fields. She’s a teacher at heart. If you are in a room with her and don’t learn anything, you obviously don’t want to learn.”

“Did she help you with anything?”

“The body shaper. When I first conceived it, it could create minor alterations, cure most diseases. She corrected some of my theory flaws, and all of a sudden I had a machine that could do anything. I could extend life, drastically alter appearance...”

“Make rubber slaves.”

“Make rubber slaves, yes.”

“There are limits, though. The rubber slaves don’t last.”

“Only because I make them not needing food. I suppose I could change that, but I enjoy making new ones. Anyway, I used the shaper to make myself and Laura immortal, then I did it to Ming Li as well.”

“Why did you only give me a couple of extra centuries, then?”

“It was easier. I can put you in the shaper and give you 300 years or so, and it only takes an hour. To grant true immortality, I would have to give you several treatments over months. I give the quickie version to all my playmates.”

“Anyway, back on topic. Unreal?”

“Yes. She came up with the idea of the Unreal World. There is the real world. You know what that is. That’s the place where you go to college, get a job in a tall building, plan for your retirement, etc.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“Then there is fantasy. That’s dragons and alien planets and stuff.”

“And the Unreal World is sort of halfway between?”

“Exactly. In the old days, the Unreal World was full of faeries and unicorns and stuff. Most of those have shifted over to fantasy. When that happens you don’t really see them anymore without leaving the real world completely. Nowadays, mad scientists are more in vogue in the Unreal World. Though, unfortunately, there are still vampires. I blame Bram Stoker for romanticizing the damn things, and the goth kids for keeping the dream alive.”

“I still don’t get it. If you are in another world, how do you interact with real people. And what about me? Am I part of the real world, or the unreal one?”

“Well, you are the mind controlled slave of a mad scientist, so you are pretty much in the Unreal World. Though not as much as me. It’s not really an either/or thing. There are degrees. The two worlds interact a lot, though there are limits.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I couldn’t take over the world. I considered trying, but after talking with Laura I realized that the Real World wouldn’t allow me to do it. It protects itself. Heroes would appear from nowhere to stop me, or I would fail because I made a stupid mistake.”

“That sucks, M. You totally deserve to own the whole world.”

“Yeah, I do. But it’s cool. I carved out my own little chunk of it, and I’m happy. Anyway, Laura theorized that if I kept pushing and pushing and trying to control all of reality, I might even push myself out of the Unreal World entirely. I would disappear into fantasy. I would retreat into a fantasy world where I did conquer everything, and rule my little fantasy world with an iron fist.”

“That’s... odd.”

“Just a theory, really. But the fact remains that the Unreal World can’t really affect the real one on a large scale. The most it can do is affect small areas and individuals. But by the same token, the things we do go unnoticed. I can kidnap people. I can build impossible devices, and the world at large won’t notice.”

“Wait a second. You have patents. You make money from them. How do you do that, unless your inventions affect reality?”

“Well, there is an effect, but it’s watered down. For instance, my body shaper couldn’t work in the Real World, but a watered down version of it that extends life can.”

“You patented that?”

“Yeah. You should be hearing about it in a few years. Anyway, the Real World version doesn’t work as well. It can’t grant true immortality. It only gives the lesser version, and you have to receive multiple treatments over several months to get that. This is good for you, Jane, since your longevity won’t stand out so much now.”

“Good, because I was worrying about that. So is there anyway to protect yourself from being snatched into the Unreal World?”

Damascus considered. “Become famous. When the entire Real World is following your every movement, it’s nearly impossible for the Unreal World to touch you.”

“Which is why you don’t go around enslaving your favorite celebrities.”

“Exactly. To be honest, I find that more frustrating than not being able to take over the world.”

“I can imagine. I was planning to ask you to give me Angelina Jolie for Christmas, but I guess that’s out.”

“What is it with you and Angelina Jolie?”

“How could anyone not want Angelina Jolie? Anyway, are you ready to go inside?”

“Not yet. Let’s go sit in my car for a few minutes. You’re going to give me a blow job.”

Jane smiled eagerly, “Ooh! Yes, Master!”

Nikki smiled as she saw her Master walk in the door. He was with a girl who used to come in a lot, named Jan or Jane. One of those. Nikki hadn’t known that Jane (or Jan) belonged to Master. For all she knew, she didn’t. Master may be in the process of recruiting her. Or just hanging out. Master was hard to predict.

She waved. “Hi, M!”

“Hi, Nikki. Do you know Jane?”

“A little. She used to come in here a lot. Hi, Jane. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Nikki,” said Jane,

Nikki was a black woman with her hair in cornrows. Her waist was slender, but she had rather large breasts. Not freakishly large, but natural and nicely shaped.

“So what can I get you two?”

“Jack and Coke,” said Master.

“Nothing yet,” said Jane. She leaned over the bar, and whispered conspiratorially, “I just sucked our Master’s cock, and I don’t want to wash the taste of his come out yet.”

Nikki started with alarm, then asked, “You know about me, then?”

“Yep. M told me earlier. By the way, is that loud bitch still coming around? The one who shouts ‘Play Smoke on the Water!’ to every band who plays here?”

“Oh, god. Yeah, she still comes around. If she holds to her usual schedule, she should be here in about 20 minutes.”

“I can wait,” said Damascus. “I’ll be upstairs playing pool. Let me know when she gets here.”

“So, how long have you been one of M’s playmates?” asked Jane. She had finally decided to have a beer, and she and Nikki were chatting.

“About two years, now. You?”

“A little under a year. Does he play with you much?”

“Nah. I only see him when he comes in here. I usually take a break so I can suck him off in the restroom, but apart from those moments of bliss, I don’t see him much.”

“That sucks. I see him all the time. We hang out, watch movies, go see bands. We fuck a lot.”

“So, what brings you here? The band tonight’s only a crappy local group. Some Kobain cultists who want to bring back grunge.”

“We’re here to see the loud bitch. M is looking for a new rubber slave.”

“Oh, wow!” Nikki breathed. “I love the rubber slaves. They are so beautiful!”

“Really, Nik? I didn’t think you swung that way.”

“Oh, I don’t. I just look at them and think, ‘That could have been me!’ It gets me kind of hot, you know?”

“Not really. I’m happy being a playmate. Standing in a corner for days on end and having a drastically reduced lifespan doesn’t really do it for me.”

“Really? I’d like it,” On further refection she added, “Well, no, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be capable of liking or disliking anything. I’d just stand there. Totally mindless. Like a piece of furniture. Then Master would give an order.” Nikki’s voice lowered, and she began to stare a bit as she lost herself in the fantasy. “I wouldn’t judge the order. I wouldn’t think about it. Enough of my brain would start up to allow me to understand the order and carry it out, and no more. I’d follow the command, then go back to being furniture. Cleaning on command. Serving drinks on command.”

Nikki’s voice began to quaver, “F-fucking on command.”

“You probably wouldn’t even be able to enjoy the fuck. I mean, can they even feel it?”

“Doesn’t matter. Master would enjoy it. What else matters?”

“Yeah, but as a playmate you get to live for three or four hundred years. A rubber slave’s got maybe five years, before it conks out.”

Nikki smiled, and looked Jane in the eye, “Hmm. Let’s see. A few centuries of dreaming about the next time Master comes by and says hi versus five years of perfect servitude? No choice. I love our Master more than anything in the world, and I know his word is law. But, still, I can’t help but think what it would be like.”

She shrugged, “No matter, though. I’m still really happy. So, your planning to rubberize the loud bitch? Her name is Tammy, by the way.”

“Not for much longer,” Jane said dryly.

“Need me to help with the recruiting? It’s a weeknight, so I’ll probably get out of here early.”

“We’ll have to ask M. He doesn’t really need much help, though. He and Ming-Li usually do the brainwashing stuff.”

“Does he still have Ming-Li?”

“Yep.”

“Girl, have you ever tried to have a conversation with that woman? There’s nobody there. She has no interests in music, movies, anything. No favorite author. No favorite restaurant. Nothing. If it’s not about Master, it doesn’t enter her mind. You won’t get much more than a nod or a vague grunt about anything else.”

“I know. She has, like, no personality. She’s pretty, though. And good in bed. Master let me screw her a couple of times. Anyway, what’s your problem? I thought you wanted that kind of single-mindedness.”

“Well, the rubber slaves have style. They’re hot. Ming-Li is just dull.”

There was a pause in the conversation. Jane sipped her beer while Nikki poured drinks for other customers.

After a minute, Nikki came back. “Could you excuse me for a couple of minutes? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

Nikki went to the upstairs game room to find her Master shooting pool.

“Hi, M.” she said.

Master looked up and smiled at her reminding himself to have a quickie with her later. “Hi, Nikki.”

She sidled over and said quietly, “So do you need any help, um, recruiting the girl?”

“Well, I was going to have you slip something in her drink for me.”

“Sure. But I meant, is there anything else you need me to do? At your place?”

“You want to come watch? Sure, why not? We haven’t hung out for a while.”

“Thank you.” She paused for several seconds, then said, “Use me.”

Damascus looked up from the table. “Use you for what?”

“As your rubber slave. Forget that drunk bitch. I want to do it. I want to be your rubber slave.”

Damascus said, “No,” then calmly pocketed the seven ball.

Nikki opened and closed her mouth, but nothing came out. Finally she said, in small voice, “Yes, Master.”

“Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Your welcome, Master.”

Her Master took another shot, then said, “I want you to understand that I’m not rejecting you. I love the fact that you offered. And I would happily grant you your wish and turn you into a rubber slave, but it isn’t possible.”

“It isn’t?”

“Not mentally. Physically, I can rubberize you easily, but unfortunately the chair only works once on any given person. When I turned you into my playmate, I locked you off from any further brainwashing. The brain just sort of builds up some kind of resistance. Sort of like chicken pox. You can only get it once, then you’re immune.”

Nikki’s heart sank “That’s okay, Master. I like being your playmate.” It was the truth. She had a sense of purpose that she hadn’t had before meeting him. But she was still disappointed.

“You’re still invited to come over.”

Nikki smiled, “Of course, Master. I’d be happy to.”

“M?” Jane’s voice came suddenly from the stairwell. They both turned to look at her.

“She’s here,” Jane said.

Tammy was everything that had been promised. She was already drunk when she walked in the door, and shouting at strangers. Damascus decided not to wait. He told Nikki to slip her the sedative, then try to get out of work early, so they could sneak her back home.

Tammy woke up, groggy but not as bad as normal. Damascus had given her a quick treatment to purge her body of alcohol and any other drugs that may be in her system. She did have a bit of a hangover, but was more sober than she had been in a long time. She was in a strange room, strapped to a chair, her head held in a restraint of some kind. The room was large, and had no windows. There were strange devices places throughout the space, as well as furniture, bookshelves and a stereo system. There was even a small bed in the corner. It looked like a cross between Frankenstein’s lab and a basement rec room. In the corner a woman... was it a woman?.. stood in shadow. It looked more like a grey rubbery statue of some kind. It had to be some kind of statue or art piece, as it was completely immobile. A man she’d never seen before lay naked on a couch, his cock being stroked by a black woman. The black woman seemed familiar. After a second, she recognized her as a bartender from the Hideaway. She slowly stroked the man’s huge erect penis, occasionally giving it a kiss or a lick.

“She’s awake!” a voice cried. Tammy tried to turn her head in the direction of the voice, but could only move her eyes. She saw the voice’s owner. It was a dikey looking girl she had seen in the local clubs once or twice.

The man replied quietly, “I see her. Get to work, Ming-Li.”

An asian woman, Ming-Li obviously, appeared in Tammy’s view, and began examining the restraints, tightening them where necessary. The asian woman wore a simple white linen shirt and black slacks, and had a serious businesslike expression, but something in her eyes seemed... wrong in some strange way. Almost dead, somehow.

Tammy’s confusion started to give way to rising panic. “What the hell is going on here? Who are you people?”

The dikey girl laughed and said, “Don’t bother fighting. In about half an hour you are going to be a slave to the Master.”

“Just like her!” the black woman added, tilting her head toward the grey statue, before focusing on the man’s cock again. The man said nothing, just watched impassively, smiling slightly at the black woman’s touch.

“That’s right,” said the dikey woman. “In 30 short minutes, you won’t have to be a loud, drunk, obnoxious bitch anymore. There will be nothing in your bottle-blonde head except the last thing Master told you to do. Then we’ll put you in that tube over there, and when you come out, you won’t even be human in any real sense. You’ll just be a mindless rubber doll, waiting for Master to say something.”

Tammy couldn’t say why, but she knew it was true. She hoped that it was a dream, and she would wake up soon, but something in her heart of hearts told her it wasn’t. The asian woman would push a button, or flip a lever, and she would die. Something would live on, but it wouldn’t be Tammy.

She opened her mouth to beg. She wanted to tell this “Master” that they got the wrong girl. She wasn’t a bad person. She just had problems. She was a very sweet person when she was sober, but she was an alcoholic, and had trouble staying away from the booze for any length of time, especially after a bad relationship. And they were all bad relationships. She was crap at picking out men. She was attracted to bad boys, and had no one but herself to blame when they turned out to actually be bad. But she had met a really nice guy, and he was helping her stay sober. She just messed up this once. And if he would please let her go, she knows that this time she could build a good life for herself and be happy.

But she didn’t say it. She stopped. The reason she stopped was the same reason she knew this was all true. The man’s eyes. The man on the couch getting-his-cock-played-with’s cold, cruel eyes.

He wouldn’t care. She could explain her life story to her, and he wouldn’t care. She could be Mother Fucking Theresa, and he wouldn’t care. She was just a target of opportunity. And she could also see that he wanted this. He wanted to watch her brain burned away. His massive erection had little to do with that black bitch licking his cock. He was getting off on what was about to happen to her.

Tammy looked at him, a tear streamed down her cheek, and she gave up.

Ming-Li finished installing the rubber slave template into the chair, and pushed the button.

The last thing she heard before the process began was confusing, but she didn’t have time to think about it, and wouldn’t remember it afterward.

What she heard was the black woman’s voice. She turned away from the man’s cock for a brief second, looked Tammy in the eyes, and said “You are so lucky.”

Then she chair destroyed her.

It was painful, to say the least. Not physically, but there was a serious emotional anguish as she felt her sense of self being burned away. Its sense of self, rather. She was becoming an it. The “rubber slave” template was very simple. Obedience, and nothing else. Its memories were still there, but were inaccessible for the most part, unless told to remember. It would only know what a can of Coke looked like if its Master said, “Get me a Coke from the fridge.” Then it would know what a Coke looked like, and how to open and close a refrigerator for as long as it took to obey the command. Personal memories would effectively be gone forever. It would have no personality.

The pain didn’t last long. Ten minutes into the procedure, it could feel parts of itself being erased, sliced away, burned out forever. It didn’t care. It felt nothing.

The final part of the procedure was adding things. Knowledge of the house’s layout. Simple cooking and cleaning skills. Stuff like that.

At the end of half an hour (28 minutes, 11 seconds, to be precise.) the chair switched off, the program complete. The slave sat, eyes dead, slack jawed, a trickle of drool streaming from its chin. Its feet were pointed in tip-toes. If it stood up now, it would attempt to stand on its toes, with feet and legs that were not prepared for the job. For this reason, Jane and Ming-Li supported it as they guided it to the tube and lay it down.

The tube was shaped to hold a human body, like a metal and plastic coffin with a clear top. They lay the slave down, closed the top, and Ming-Li pushed the start button.

A transformation as complete as rubberization took a bit more than three hours, and Damascus wasn’t as excited by the physical part as he was the brainwashing, so he amused himself with Nikki, penetrating her in all her holes. He hadn’t had her in a while, so he took his time and enjoyed her. Jane played with a rubber slave for a while, then had Ming-Li eat her out. Damascus had okayed it.

Later, Damascus lay in bed with Jane and Nikki, and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Damascus, Jane, Nikki and Ming-Li had a pleasant breakfast. Jane left early to go to work. Nikki hung around for a bit longer, gave her Master a quick blow-job, then went home for the day.

Later that day, Damascus fucked one of his rubber slaves. He didn’t know if it was the one he had created the night before, and wouldn’t have cared if he had known.