The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Late, as usual; Kath was half-way through her rapidly cooling cup of coffee by the time she saw Liz make her way though the glass doors of the cafe, scanning the room for her friend. Still, it would be good to see her—they hadn’t seen one another for weeks. Time to catch up on news ...... Wow, she looked good ! Liz had had her hair cut and tinted, with blonde highlights in the fluffy mass of red-brown; her skin seemed to glow with an inner light, and there was a definite spring in her step. Kath leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee while Liz ordered a large cappuccino from the counter, then slid elegantly onto the chair opposite her, dropping her mass of shopping bags onto the floor under the table. “Hiya, kid ! Long time no see.”

“I know, awful isn’t it ? Your hair looks amazing !”

Liz tossed her head, throwing her hair back over her shoulder like a model in a shampoo advert, and smiled. “Yup. Knock ‘em dead, eh ? I’ve found a new hairdresser, and she’s absolutely superb; she doesn’t have a salon, she comes to your house with her stuff. I wish I’d found her years ago.”

“You’ve just GOT to give me her name. I’ve been going to NewStyle for a couple of years now, but Kerry is their only decent stylist and he gets booked up so far in advance ...... and I’m not going to win Miss World with this lot, am I ?” She ran her fingers through her short, dense curls. “I’m thinking of going straight again, a bob cut maybe.”

Liz fumbled in her handbag; keys, lipstick, bits of paper and tissues cascaded across the polished surface. “Here ..... hang on ..... I’m sure I’ve got a card ........ bugger. Oh, wait.......". She fumbled with her cellular phone, frowning, prodding at the keys with a slim finger. “Yes .....Jenny.....got her number.". A pen was retrieved from the heap of detritus on the table, and Liz scribbled the number on a napkin, before shovelling the clutter back in. “Thanks, I’ll call her. Jenny, you say ? Does she do evenings ?”

“Oh God, yes. She’s very busy, but she’ll do her best to fit in with what you want. She’s really very nice.”

“Super. Does she do makeup as well ? You look, well....... different.”

Liz smiled even wider, and leaned across the table, dropping her eyes. “Mmmmmm. Yes. Well, she does do makeup, but that’s not quite why I look so good, or feel so good. But it was her that put me on to it.” Kath sighed. Another health fad. Liz had been through them all. Aromatherapy, massage, reflexology, Colonic irrigation...... each lasted a few months, then got quietly dropped. She was sure that it was just the psychological effect of being pampered that brought about these occasional boosts to Liz’s personality and appearance. “So what is it this time ? Did you go for the Shiatsu massage you were talking about last time?”

“No. No, it’s something that Jenny has a franchise for. It’s really great...... the best ever. I’m not kidding.”

“But what is it ?”

“Well, she does hairdressing, and she does piercings as well. Earrings, lips, nose ..... anywhere, really. Well, she did this special piercing for me. You know, down there .....” she dropped her eyes, then looked up and grinned, “and it’s just, well, amazing. Oh, you have no idea.” She shivered visibly. “I mean, well, sometimes you get a bloke who’s, well, quite skilful, you know, with his tongue... “she giggled, “and that can be, like really amazing, but with this, well, any time, any place, just push the button, and ........ whoosh.......” She grinned again.

“Whoosh ?”

“Uh-huh. Whoosh, wham, bam, boom, kerpow. Everything you always wanted...... ”

Kath smiled back; she had read several articles in women’s magazines about “intimate jewellery”, and its effects; but it was not something that had ever appealed to her. Pierced ears were quite enough, thankyou, and as for all those teenage girls with lip and nose rings, that was just plain ugly.

“Did it hurt ? Doesn’t it, well, rub on things ?”

“No, no, not like that. It’s not a ring or anything—it’s like a little pellet, under the skin. It’s electronic.”

“Electronic ?”

“Right. You turn it on and off with a remote control.” “You’re kidding !”

“I’m not ! Look .......” Another foray into the handbag produced a small black plastic box, like the control for a car alarm. “This is the little one, so you can carry it with you. There’s a big one, like a TV remote, so you can programme the different effects ........ oh, you have no idea.”

Now, Kath was intrigued. She stared at the little keyfob in her friend’s palm, then reached over and picked it up, turning it over in her fingers. There were three small buttons, each with a different abstract symbol on them; without thinking, driven by curiosity, she pressed the middle button. Liz opened her mouth to say something, then suddenly twitched, gripping the edge of the table, eyes closed, teeth clenched, her whole body rigid and shuddering, her breath coming in short snorts through her nose. She made a faint gasping noise, as if she was trying to speak, but couldn’t. Alarmed, Kath pressed the button again; Liz sagged back in her chair, almost slumped, and let out a long sigh.

“Are you OK ? Liz ?”

Her friend looked up at her, and began to collect herself; Kath looked round the crowded room—no-one had noticed her friend’s brief spasm. Liz leaned across the table with a shaking hand and gently took the little remote from her friend’s unresisting grasp. “Oooof ..... I should have warned you not to press any of the buttons. That was a bit ..... intense.”

“What happened ? Did you ...... have an orgasm ?”

Liz smiled. “Oh yes. A good one ..... mmmmmmmm.” She wiggled on her seat. “I’m all excited now...... excuse me a minute......” She stood up, and made her way across the room to the Ladies Washroom.

Kath had finished her coffee by the time her friend returned a few minutes later, looking slightly flushed but with her appearance of health and vitality if anything even more marked. By an unspoken agreement, their talk turned to other things, but as they left the cafe, having agreed to meet the following Saturday, Liz turned to her and looked her in the eyes. “have a good week, then. And give Jenny a call—I’m sure you’ll find it worthwhile.” As she reached her car, Kath turned to see her friend striding off down the street, her hair bouncing on her shoulders; whatever she was doing, it obviously was working well for her.

Sunday was taken up with household chores; but on the Monday morning, as she readied herself for work, Kath stared at her hair in the mirror and cursed softly. She would have to do something about it, it looked wretched..... where was that number ? The napkin was still in her handbag, and when she reached the office she placed it on her desk in plain sight, to remind her of her plan. Disaster nearly struck when she spilt some of her mid-morning coffee on the desk, and instinctively reached for the napkin to mop it up; but she remembered in time, and dived into her desk drawer for a tissue instead. When she had cleared all the most urgent jobs, and answered all the panicky emails—Mondays were always bad—she pushed aside the mouse and keyboard and reached for the phone. It was a mobile number, and rang for a long time; Kath was expecting to get the voicemail service, when there was a click and a pleasant female voice answered. “Hello, Homestyle Hair ?”

“Hello ? Is that Jenny ?”

“No, this is her Mum. She’s working at the moment, but I can take a message.”

“Oh, Ok. My name’s Kath Simmons, my friend Liz Turnham recommended you ? I’d like to get my hair cut and styled, one evening this week if that’s possible.”

“Oh, Liz, yes. Where do you live, dear ? We only cover the local area, you know.”

“Yes, Liz said that.” She gave her address.

“Oh, that’s fine. Well, when would you like Jenny to call ? We can do tomorrow at six, or Thursday, at eight, we’ve had a cancellation.”

“Thursday would be fine ......er ...... how much is it, please, for a cut and style ?”

No more that she paid her current hairdresser, it turned out. So the appointment was fixed for Thursday.

Kath was lounging on the sofa when the doorbell rang, watching a video recording of a soap opera; she scuttled to the door, and stared at the grainy grey image on the tiny video screen. “Hello ?”

“Hi, Kath ? This is Jenny”.

“Fine, just push the door when it buzzes. Do you have a lot of stuff to bring up ? I can come and give you a hand.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Right, see you in a minute.”

The lift was notoriously slow, but it was reliable, and spacious; eventually, there was a tap at the apartment door. She opened it, and smiled at the small red-headed girl waiting outside, a large case clutched in each pale, slender hand. If she did her own hair, she was a walking advert for herself; if cascaded down her back in shimmering waves, right down to waist level, and shone with health.

“Come in. Can I get you a drink or anything ? Tea, coffee ?”

“Tea would be lovely. Milk, no sugar”

By the time Kath returned with the mugs, Jenny had spread a large, blue cloth on the floor and on it had placed one of the straight-backed chairs from around the dining table, under the light in the centre of the ceiling.

“Oooh, thanks. Now, what would you like ?”

“I don’t know, really. I’m fed up with this look ..... it was fine at first, but I think it makes me look a bit old now. Have you got any suggestions ? I’m just not sure ......”

“Well, let’s have a look. Sit down for a minute.” Kath sat on the chair, as the girl ran her hands expertly though her hair, feeling its condition, examining the texture and the ends.

“Well, there’s no problem with your hair as such ...... thick and strong and it’s in good condition. What shampoo do you use. ?” A brief discussion on cosmetics followed, and then Jenny reached into her case and produced a slim ring binder. “These are some of the styles I’ve done. Now, given the shape of your head and face, and the length of your neck, I’d be inclined to suggest something like this ........ or this ...... now, that one would look VERY good on you.”

“Really ?”

“Trust me, you’d look stunning”.

Kath scowled. It looked rather short, and she had always had long hair; if she didn’t like it, it would take months for her hair to grow back. But ...... she had to do something. Something radical. She was starting to look so frumpy ..... and she hated that. Besides, Liz looked wonderful..... and the girl’s own hair was superb, and suited her exactly. She really did know her stuff.

“All right. Let’s go for that !”

“Fine. It won’t take that long, and then after, I’ll do a quick makeup job to show you what goes with it. No extra charge—I’d just like to take a photo for my portfolio of the finished result, if that’s OK ?”

“Sure.”

“Right.” Jenny took a gulp of tea from the mug. “Let’s make a start.”

Kath stared in wonder at the gorgeous woman—her own reflection in the mirror. Jenny’s quick, deft hands had trimmed, shaped and styled her hair in a way she had never imagined would work, and now a few more expert touches of lipstick, eye shadow and mascara had transformed her into something akin to a fashion model. She stood in front of the mirror, turning her head from side to side, lifting and lowering her chin; with this look, and the right dress........ it might bring more than a little interest back into her currently disappointing social life. Jenny’s face appeared in the mirror beside her. “That’s nice. I’m very pleased.”

“So am I. So am I ! It’s really wonderful, thankyou ! What do I owe you ? I’ve got some cash, or I can give you a cheque.”

“A cheque’s fine. Well, I’m glad you’re pleased. Here, have a couple of cards—please pass them on to anyone who you think might be interested.”

“I certainly will. Better give me half a dozen ..... there are several girls in the office who I think will be interested, and my friends too.”

“Gosh, thanks. I’m just building up my business since we moved here, but it’s going quite well.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Well, I’d better be on my way. Give me a call when you need it doing again.”

“I will, indeed. Thanks. Er ...... by the way.....”

“Yes ?”

“Well, my friend Liz said ...... well..... er ....... you did a body piercing for her ? She recommended that as well. And, er, well, I was, sort of, curious, you know ?”

Jenny smile broadly. “Oh yes. Yes, I put in a Stimplant for her. I’m glad she likes it. They’re very popular ..... I’ve sold loads of them. I’ve got one too. ”

“You have ? With the little remote control, and everything ?”

“Mmm-huh. Wouldn’t be without it. Look, I’ve got a brochure, would you like to see it ?”

“Er..... yes. Yes, I’ll have a look.”

She produced a large, glossy brochure from the recesses of one of her cases, and Kath flicked through it as the girl packed her equipment and gathered the cut hair in the bundled-up sheet. It was very intriguing; “Latest BION technology ..... microminiaturized heuristic processor system ........ radio commanded ..... unique secure communications protocol...... non-allergenic ......... high-frequency induction charging .......” Some of the terms were vaguely familiar; and there was a picture of the device itself, hardly bigger than a grain of rice, and a line diagram of its position in the body. It seemed slightly creepy; but then, Liz didn’t seem bothered. She turned to the last page, and was taken aback at the swingeing price of the device—but then, it was a piece of medical equipment, manufactured to the highest standards ....... and if it worked.........

“Wow, it’s expensive !”

Jenny straightened up. “Worth every penny, honestly. I was very lucky, I got mine for free because I’m an agent, and when I’d sold ten I got my money back. I know it’s a lot, but you really won’t regret it. ”

“How does it work ?”

“It’s injected into your body, just in front of your clitoris. It has to be left a week to settle in, then you activate it with the remote control. And then you can just press a button and have an orgasm whenever you want; and they’re really, really intense. You can use it when you’re having sex, too, to spice things up. You can leave it on very low, so you just get a constant little tingle, or turn it right up until you think you’re going to burst ....... it’s amazing. ”

“Sounds good ..... I’m not sure though. It’s a lot of money.”

“Sure it is. But you get what you pay for. " She giggled.” And it doesn’t come much better than this, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Kath thought for a moment. She had the money she had been saving towards a new car; this would be a big chunk out of it—it would be next year before she could make up the deficit. But the current car was OK, even if it was a bit rattly; and this sounded like a very nice treat.

“So if I was to have one of these, what happens exactly ?”

“Well, I’d have to order it. Either you can pay me in advance, or you can call the suppliers yourself with your credit card number and pay that way, then they sent it to me and I bring it round and put it in—just a little injection. You feel a bit sore for a day or so, then about a week later they send you the remote control by post and you can start using it.”

“Ok, I’ll think about it.”

“Sure. No obligation. Can I have the brochure back, though ? It’s the only one I’ve got at the moment, I’ve given all the rest away and I’m waiting for a new supply.”

“Just a sec.” Kath scribbled the phone number on a notepad, then handed the brochure back to Jenny. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Kath sat at the kitchen table in her bath robe, meditatively stirring her coffee. Rain slanted down outside the window from a grey, lowering sky, matching her mood. Friday evening had been very promising; in a new dress, and with her new hairstyle, she had turned heads as she had walked though the nightclub, delighting in the admiring glances from the men. She had been even more gratified when a former boyfriend had sidled up to the bar and complemented her on her appearance. The evening had been pleasant enough, but it had all degenerated into a session of undignified and deeply unsatisfactory—for her, at least—fumbling in the back seat of his Mercedes. She had woken up this morning feeling angry, dirty and bitter, and the feeling had not gone away. Men ! Who needed them, anyway ?

What the hell. Do it now ! She stamped in to the living room, and extracted one of her credit cards from her purse. Dammit, she was fed up of this. She’d only ever had one really good lover who truly understood her needs, and could satisfy her, and he had turned out to be only to happy to share his skill with any woman he could find, so he had been swiftly dumped. The rest were, well, just—inadequate. And totally selfish. Bastards, all of them. She would pay by credit card, and then pay it back over a period of months .... it wouldn’t be so very expensive, and she could keep saving for the car. She dialled, and waited.

“Hello, you’re through to Customer Services. Press one for sales, two for enquires, three for accounts, or hold for operator assistance.”

She pressed one. A pause, and the ringing tone. “Hello, you’re speaking to Marcie. Can I take your account number, please ?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have one. I wanted to order by credit card. An SP 330.”

“Ok, may I ask how you heard about us ?”

“Er, from my hairdresser ...... she gave me this number.”

“What’s her name, please ?”

“Wallace, Jenny Wallace. Homestyle Hair”.

“And you want to order an SP three-thirty ?”

“Yes.”

A pause, and the muffled sound of someone typing on a computer keyboard.

“Yes, that’s OK. I’ll just need to take some personal details and your credit card number.”

The usual routine for buying anything by phone; five minutes later, she was back in the kitchen pouring a new cup of coffee.

The phone was ringing as she walked down the hallway, but as she unlocked the deadlock she heard the answering machine cut in. Unhurriedly she opened the latch, picked up her shopping and pushed the door open; she knew exactly how much time she had. The machine was just finishing its message as she dropped the bags on the floor, and flipped the door shut with her foot.

“Hello, it’s Jenny. Your order has arrived, so give me a call to arrange an appointment .....”

“Hello, Jenny, yes, sorry, I’ve just got in. ”

“Ah, right. Well, you’re order’s here. When do you want me to come round ?”

“Well, any time really, except Friday. I’m in every evening this week.”

“Oh ! Actually, I’m free later this evening. I’ll be coming back past your place at about nine thirty—I could call in. It only takes a few minutes.”

“Tonight ? Er, yes, why not ...... nine thirty will be fine. Do I need to do anything ?”

“No, nothing special .... it’s not your time of the month, is it ?”

“No, not until next week”

“Fine. See you later then ?”

“See you later”.

This time, she was only carrying a small plastic briefcase. “Hi, hello ! Well, here it is.”

“Yes .... what do I do ?”

“Well, it’s best if you lie on a bed.”

Kath nodded, and led the way into the bedroom. She picked up a clean white towel, and laid it on the bed, having flipped back the quilt, then stood waiting, feeling the butterflies in her stomach. Was this wise ? Should she really do this ? Should she just say stop, and ask for her money back ? Jenny had opened the case, and had pulled on a set of surgical gloves over her slender hands.

“If you can take your trousers and underwear off, and lie back on the bed with your legs apart, like you would for a doctor ?”

Kath slid down her trousers and panties, and lay back on the bed, thighs wide. This was stupid...... and so undignified ........ come on, get on with it ........ Jenny turned towards her, holding a small aerosol.

“This is a special spray that incorporates an antiseptic, and an anaesthetic too, so you won’t feel much. It’ll just feel cold and tingly for a few seconds. Kath flinched slightly as the spray flickered over her crotch, but in seconds there was merely a sensation of warm, tingling numbness, like a dentist’s injection into a gum. Jenny was counting under her breath; Kath felt something gently touching her, then heard the hiss of the aerosol again. More counting; “Now, I’m touching you—can you feel anything ?”

Very strange; Jenny was obviously touching her between her legs, but she had only the vaguest sensation of movement. “No, almost nothing !”

“Good. I’ll have to be quick—this stuff wears off quite quickly. " She turned to the little case, and came back holding what looked like a plastic water pistol; she placed the muzzle against Kath’s crotch. “Ready ? Just relax, it doesn’t hurt.”

There was a loud noise, a sort of snapping click; Kath jumped slightly—there was no pain, but an odd sensation like she had been flicked hard with a fingertip, the way her brother used to flick her ears when they were children. And then Jenny was returning the pistol to the case.

“All over. You can sit up now”.

Kath sat up, as Jenny returned with what looked like a large pocket calculator. “I just need to check it’s working OK. This is a test unit. I’ll just put in the serial number. " She picked up a printed sheet and started to tap on the keyboard. “Now, I’ll turn it on, check it’s working, then deactivate it again. It needs to be left for seven days before you use it, you see, for the injection site to heal completely. Now, this may feel a bit funny......”

She pressed a button on the box; for a moment, Kath felt nothing, then an odd tingling; the tingling changed to a tickle, then she felt a sudden impulse to urinate, but just as suddenly the sensation was replaced by a feeling of hotness, then an uncomfortable pricking sensation—and then nothing. “Passed diagnostics. Lovely. Now, you’re going to feel a bit sore for the next few days, but it’s nothing much, really. Here are some wipes—after you go to the toilet, use one of these, they’re antiseptic—just while the injection heals. And it’s recommended that you don’t have sex for forty-eight hours, but you probably won’t feel like it anyway, if you’re a bit sore.”

“Sex ? Huh. No risk of that.”

“Well........ no toys or anything, either, OK ?”

“OK”. Their eyes met, and they smiled at one another, then Kath looked down and blushed.

“I’m sure you’re going to really enjoy it, you know.”

“I hope so, for that price”

“Like I said, it’s worth it. Every penny.”

“Would you like some tea ?”

“No, thanks, It’s been a long day; I’ll see myself out. Goodnight !”

And she was gone.

The week passed like any other; after the first morning, Kath barely noticed the slight bruising caused by the injector. On the second day, out of curiosity, she used a hand mirror to examine herself; but apart from a slight discolouration, there was nothing to see. She was still sore, though, and her attempts to stimulate herself were rapidly abandoned, leaving her restless and frustrated—but by the end of the week, the soreness had passed, and all seemed normal again.

It was ten days before the package eventually arrived; she found the thick, padded envelope on the doormat when she got home from work. She dropped the rest of the mail on the hall table and took it to the kitchen, carefully opening it with the tear-tab. A slim plastic case slid out of the box; unclipping the catches, she revealed a neatly cut foam template, in which were embedded a keyfob, a larger remote control with an LCD display, some batteries, a mains adaptor, and an oval plastic disc with a wire attached.

She unclipped the booklet from inside the lid and started to read.

It all seemed simple enough; she clipped the batteries into the remote, and the display started to flash “SET TIME”. Just like a video recorder, simple and obvious. She set the date and time; the display changed to show a set of cryptic symbols. Now, the next section .... “Basic Operation”. All she should have to do is activate the device and start it going. “Modes of operation...... time limiting........ programmed operation........ heuristic sequencing........". The clever stuff could wait. “Preset programmes...... " Yes, that would do. Select program 1 to 9, select level, 0 to 100%, press the Green key to start. “PROG”, “1”, “LEVEL”, what ? Nothing too ambitious, she could always turn it up. 30%, that wouldn’t be too much, surely ? “3”, “0”. Deep breath; relax.

“ACTIVATE”.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Damn. DAMN ! All that money, thrown away, some bloody con trick ! She would ..... she would ........ mmmmm. That was nice......... a slow, tingly warmth spreading through her crotch. Getting stronger. Mmmmm, that was very nice...... very nice indeed........oooooooh....... she could feel her vagina starting to tingle ........... maybe this thing was working after all ........... just turn it up a bit ............ mmmmmmmmmh, oh, no need, the effect was still getting bigger .......... mo wonder Liz had twitched like that, wonder what she had set hers on.......... God, that was gooooood....... like being licked, and tickled inside all at once .......... just sit here and let it run.......... ahhhhhhhhhhhh........... yes...........

She leaned forward onto the table; her nipples, now hard under her bra, brushed the edge, and a shudder ran through her. She realised to her surprise that she was going to come at any second—it was amazing how fast this thing worked, she felt so turned on....... and then the spasm hit; she arched her back, moaning in ecstasy, her legs jerking apart, the remote skittering out of reach across the table top. She jerked like a puppet, moaning and gasping, her arms falling limply by her sides....... the waves of pleasure surged though her, uncontrollable, irresistible........ she couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe ...... had to turn it offff....... no..... don’t stop....... must stop......... no.......... more........ yes........ and then the darkness.

Consciousness returned slowly, and with it the sensation of stiff, aching muscles. She was still sprawled in the chair, head back; she had been home barely twenty minutes. Between her legs, she was still red-hot and excited; her panties were soaked; her whole body felt cold with drying sweat. She eased herself forward, grasping the table for support, then slowly tried to stand on legs that felt like soft rubber. A half -step forwards was enough to bring her to a twitching halt, clutching the worktop; slowly, she slipped of her shoes, unbuttoned her trousers and slid her lower garments to the floor, carefully stepping out of them and standing with her legs apart, feeing the air cooling her. She made her way to the bathroom, showered, and put on her bath robe, then poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and settled on the sofa with the book of instructions and the two remotes.

Two hours later she was still there, the wine hardly touched; the television murmured quietly, but she paid it no attention. She lay on her back, thighs splayed, gently moving the dome-capped deodorant can she had slid into her vagina, and shuddering occasionally. Program 5 had proved to be exceptionally enjoyable, but had also produced an unbearable craving to be penetrated; her fingers were quite inadequate, and she had torn through the house like a whirlwind, looking for something suitable, before grabbing the can from the bathroom windowsill—big, much too big she though, as she squatted on the bathroom floor, I’ll never get that in, never, I’ll tear myself, this is going to hurt—but to her astonishment it had slid easily into her soaking pussy, and her muscles had immediately clamped around it, as she rolled helplessly on the floor, grunting and twitching.

Walking back to the living room with it still inside her was a new experience, too; she had never used toys much before, but this was totally different. Her pubic hair was soaked in her juice, and the insides of her thighs were shiny and sticky with it—she would have to shower again before bed....... but that wouldn’t be for while yet, even though she felt absolutely exhausted.

The alarm clock finally dragged her up through dark layers of sleep; God, was it morning already ? She felt strange, and rolled onto her side; what on earth ........ ? Her hand fumbled between her legs, coming into contact with the smooth metal of the spray can, still deeply embedded. Good old Program 5 ........ yeessh, twenty past seven..... gingerly, she swung her legs off the bed, and waddled to the bathroom, then gently slid out the can, which she wiped carefully before replacing it on the shelf. A quick shower, dry her hair ....... now, underwear ....... those loose silk knickers, and a skirt—nothing tight, that would rub her ..... not sore, just very, very sensitive....... bra ..... she gasped as the smooth material slipped over her still-sensitive nipples. Coffee and cereal, then down to the car.... making sure that she had the little black keyfob safely tucked away.

Her willpower lasted most of the morning, but after a particularly stressful phone call from a notoriously difficult client, she felt the tension building up in her body like a bowstring. Five years ago she would have had a cigarette; but now she could almos feel the presence of the little black box in her bag, calling to her. Well, maybe just for a few minutes ...... she held it clutched in her palm as she made her way past the lines of desks to the toilets. She was in luck; all the cubicles were empty. She settled in the end one, and dropped her skirt and knickers, then sat on the seat, legs slightly apart. She could feel herself getting wet already, and she hadn’t even turned the thing on—the delicious anticipation was enough. She had programmed the implant the night before using the main remote, to respond to the key fob’s limited range of commands; two presses on the key marked with the dot should be enough. Click ..... click ....... yes !

She leaned back against the wall, feeling the sensations flooding though her pelvis ....... any second now ....... AAAahhhhhhhhhhhh...... involuntarily, her legs lifted and splayed ......... she reached down to rub her clitoris, and was rewarded with a surge of pleasure that left her dizzy and breathless. She clenched her teeth, trying to keep her breathing under control, just as Liz had struggled in the coffee bar, but it was incredibly difficult; her body was reacting instinctively, as the implant drove her into orgasm after orgasm. She felt herself floating into a semi-conscious state, which slowly, gently faded to a feeling of warm fulfilment.

For some minutes she slumped in the cubicle; eventually, her cooling body temperature, and her increasing awareness of the passage of time jerked her back to consciousness. She cleaned herself up, straightened her clothing, and—still slightly flushed in the face—made her way back to her desk, where she sat quietly, luxuriating in the occasional twitches that still teased her. No wonder Liz had that “inner glow” ! She must thank her .... and Jenny too. Now, back to work..........

She managed to hold out against the temptation for the rest of the day, but on the drive home found her thoughts increasingly obsessed by the thoughts of Program 5. She wondered about using the keyfob to activate the stimulator when driving, but decided that the risk of losing control was far too great, even on a low setting—maybe when she got used to it she would take the risk, but the memory of her involuntary movements in the cubicle was enough to dissuade her from experimentation. By the time she had parked the car, she was breathing heavily, and felt hot; she didn’t wait for the lift, but scampered up the staircase, her high heels clattering on the uncarpeted concrete steps. She had her keys in her hand when she reached the door, and in a moment was through, nearly slipping on the pile of glossy envelopes on the doormat. Into the bathroom..... grab the deodorant can ...... into the bedroom, snatching the remote from the bedside table, jabbing at the controls ....... “PROG”, “5”, “LEVEL”, “40”, “ACTIVATE” .......... she flung herself on the bed as the first surge hit her, pulling up her skirt and dragging the crotch of the panties aside as she rammed the blunt cylinder into her body.

She awoke fifteen minutes later, sprawled on her face, the pillow wet and sticky with drool. She was naked—she had a vague memory of undressing one-handed, as she pounded the can into herself with the other, desperate to free herself from the restriction of her clothes because of the burning heat surging through her body. Weak as a kitten, she managed to roll herself onto her back, and lay there, drowsy and stupefied. Experimentally, she tried squeezing on the can still dilating her vagina, and was rewarded with an internal spasm, so intense as to be almost painful; she fingered her crotch, not daring to touch her clitoris, which felt huge and inflamed. Slowly, gently, she slid the can out, and was alarmed to see slight reddish streaks; she must have bled slightly somewhere. At last, she could stand to bring her legs together, and swung off the bed, heading for the bathroom; her bladder was uncomfortably full with all the coffee she had consumed during the afternoon,, in an attempt to stave off the post-orgasmic somnolence that afflicted her after that first session in the ladies toilet.

Now, that was a thought; she turned back to the bedside table, and picked up the remote and the instruction book. Where had she seen that ? “Section 7—Other functions.......... 7.3 Bladder control.” She flicked the pages. “For sufferers from urinary incontinence, the Stimplant can have a number of beneficial effects ......” Hmmmm. “SHIFT”, “1”. The display flashed, “U—CTRL”. So ..... she pressed the up-arrow. “HOLD ?” Yes..... she pressed the green button. She felt a faint tingling—nothing much. Had it worked ? She sat on the toilet, spreading her labia with her fingers, and tried to urinate; nothing. She concentrated, making her muscles relax; still nothing. Her bladder was full; she wanted to do it; but she couldn’t. She strained; nothing. She placed the tips of her fingers just above her pubic bone, and pressed gently; the need to urinate became agonising, but still the flow did not start. Neat ! No particular reason why she would need this .... but it was useful to know, and it showed how clever the device was. So, “SHIFT”, “1”, back into “U-CTRL”. Down arrow .... “NORMAL”. Down arrow again.... “RELEASE”. She pressed the green button, and immediately felt the hot stream surge out from between her legs. She tried to stop it, tried to clench her muscles, but it was useless; the golden liquid continued to tinkle and spatter into the bowl. She waited until the flow stopped, the sent the remote back to “NORMAL”, again feeling the subtle tingle that told her she once more had control of her body.

All right, next chapter .... “8.0 Chastity Enforcement”. “SHIFT”, “2”, up arrow to turn ON, Activate. No tingle this time; how did this work ? She fumbled between her legs; weird ! Her clitoris felt strange, numb like it had after the anaesthetic spray that Jenny had used; despite the fact that just minutes ago she had been wildly excited, now her gentle finger massage did nothing for her. Her labia felt cold, and itched uncomfortably when she touched them; experimentally, she slid her index finger into her vagina, and suddenly the pain came, a hot, stinging, stabbing pain right through her whole crotch. She snatched her finger away, and the pain stopped; she wasn’t inclined to retry the experiment. Turn THAT function off right now !

She peeled off the rest of her clothes, and flung them into the laundry basket; a refreshing shower, and she put on her Chinese silk robe. A pleasant evening; a film she wanted to watch, a glass of wine, and the little book to browse; there must be more functions to explore. But she went to bed early, unable in the end to avoid the temptation of Program 5, and—eventually—fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For once, Liz was there before her, sitting primly at the counter on a high stool and sipping a cup of hot chocolate. It was quiet in the cafe, and the stool next to her was vacant; Kath perched on it. “Hiya, kid, how ya doin’ ?”

“Pretty good, pretty good. And I have something for you.” Kath reached into a carrier bag ,and produced a small package. “A thankyou present, for introducing me to Jenny”.

“Oh wow, thanks !". Liz ripped the glossy paper with her scarlet nails, and gasped as the silk scarf fell in soft folds over her hands. “It’s beautiful ! You shouldn’t have. But your hair does look magnificent !”

“Yes I should. I really owe you a very big thankyou.” Liz suddenly looked sidelong at her. “You got yourself one of those implants, didn’t you”. Kath blushed and nodded. “Aren’t they the best ?”

“Oh yes. Instant sunshine...... how often do you have to recharge yours ?”

“About once a week. But then, I use it quite a lot.” She was used to the routine of placing the small plastic disc inside a pair of panties when she went to bed, and plugging the power unit into the wall; while she slept, the induction charger replenished the battery inside the implant. Once, she had let it run down, and had experienced the distress and frustration as the sensations she craved suddenly started to fade in the middle of a session. Now, she made sure that she kept the battery at full charge.

“Me too. They are soooooo good.”

“Worth every penny " They both laughed loudly at the same moment, causing other customers to turn and look at them, wondering at what the shared joke might be.

Friday night; a night out with the girls, or at least, one girl. Kath was flipping through the TV channels when Liz, late as ever, finally rang the doorbell. Based on experience, she had ordered the taxi for 8:30, having arranged for Liz to meet her at quarter to; it was now quarter past, right on time. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry darling, I was late home from work.......”

“Liz, it’s Ok, really ! Shush ! The taxi won’t be here for fifteen minutes. We’ve got plenty of time.” and so it proved to be; by nine, they were strolling through the door of their favourite club.

When they got back at one, Kath felt good, if a little tipsy and light headed. They had danced with some very attractive men; they had bitched about work, friends, and money; they had had drinks bought for them; and now they were back. Liz had let the taxi go, electing to spend the night in Kath’s spare room, as she often did—a shopping trip into the city the next morning was the next item on the agenda.

Liz draped herself languidly over the sofa, kicking off her stiletto heels, as Kath fetched two generous vodka-and-tonics with ice from the kitchen; she settled in the armchair opposite. “That was a good night.........” “Oh yes....... and that guy with the blue shirt, didn’t he have the prettiest little bum you ever saw ?” Kath laughed at her friends blatant lust. “Would you prefer him to your little black box friend then ?” “Oooh, no, no way......... I bet Mr Blue Shirt’s only a once-a-night boy, even with those pert little buttocks !”

Kath sniggered. She was right; men were Ok, but once you had that little black box ...... she’d better be careful what she did tonight—nothing to high—mind you, if Liz heard her moaning, she’d just think it was funny.

“Ooof. Excuse me, I must go to the little girl’s room !” Liz wobbled to her feet, and made her way unsteadily across the living room to the bathroom.

Kath sipped her drink, and selected the news channel, wondering as she usually did what it was like to live the upside down life of a newscaster on night shifts. She turned the sound up to listen to an item that interested her, and was getting quite absorbed, when she felt a sudden twitch in her crotch; the next moment, she was bent forward, gasping for breath; just as suddenly, it stopped, and she slumped back with a long, shuddering moan. She heard a chuckle from behind her, and swivelled round; Liz stood in the doorway, holding the remote in her hand. She waved a finger in remonstrance; “You don’t want to leave this just lying around, babe. If someone got hold of it, they could have waaaay to much control over you.” She swaggered across the room, and tossed the remote into Kath’s lap. “Two minutes of Program 7 and you’d do anything they told you to.”

“Five. Program five”.

“Really ? that doesn’t do much for me ...... no. Seven’s my favourite. Have you tried setting up any custom programs ?”

“Yes .... I’ve got a couple now. I use them from the little keyfob. They’re pretty good.”

“You’ll have to show me how to do it. I tried a couple of times and blew myself across the room.”

Kath laughed. “Sure, I know you’re not good with gadgets, but it’s no more difficult than a video or a mobile phone. I’ll show you sometime.”

“Show me now—I’ve got my big remote, too " She fished in her overnight bag and came up holding a matching plastic case.

“Heh. Ok, give it to me. Right, now look. You can put a program in from scratch, or you can copy one of the standard ones and edit it. Look, you like program seven ? So what you do is this .....”

Twenty minutes later, Liz was writhing on the sofa as the new program did its work on her; Kath, her inhibitions long since dissolved in several large measures of vodka, watched in wry amusement as her friend bucked and moaned helplessly. Wow, she was having a good time ! She wondered what it felt like........ as that moment, the program finished, and Liz flopped sideways, panting. “Ohhhhh, baby, that’s goooooood ! Whew, I am so HOT ! She grabbed a glossy magazine from the coffee table and fanned herself, fluffing her disarranged hair. “You just have to do me a couple more of those custom programs, that was wicked !”

“I could tell ! You were well away !”

“Oh yes....... ohhhhhhhhhhh......” She shuddered again. “Where’s my drink ?”

Kath passed the glass across, and Liz took a gulp, then leaned back against the sofa, throwing her head back and taking deep breaths. Kath asked her, “Have you tired any of the other functions ?”

Liz shook her head. “No, just the stuff out of chapter one. I couldn’t get my head round most of it.”

“Take a tip from me, don’t bother with the chastity setting. It’s not nice at all.”

“I read that bit..... and it can stop you peeing, too?” Kath nodded. “Mmm-huh. It works, I tried that out.” “Relay mode looked kind of interesting ?”

Kath frowned. “Relay mode ? I don’t remember that.” She reached across for the somewhat dog-eared booklet lying on the table. Relay mode, relay mode ........ Section 7.8........ “Sensory relay. Place the two remotes next to one another with the infra- red ports facing. Using a stimulation program for each participant is optional. Press “SHIFT”, “8”, “UP ARROW”, “ACTIVATE”. Wait for the message LINK OK to appear on the display. Press ACTIVATE on either control to activate the link.”

Seemed simple enough—but what did it mean ? She read further down; “impulse mirroring.” What was that ? “Hey Liz, this relay mode—want to try it ?”

Liz hiccupped. “Yeah, what the hell ..... go for it !” Her eyes were slightly unfocussed, and her speech slurred. Kath took the two remotes and pressed the keys, then placed them opposite one another on the table. Then she picked hers up again—program 5 ? Yes .... and Liz liked Program 7. She selected the two programs, then put the remotes down and pressed the green key on each one. The displays flashed, and simultaneously LINK OK appeared in the windows. She pressed the green button on Liz’s remote.

Nothing ..... well, maybe a little tingle ..... but then, sometimes it took a while. She picked up the booklet again and started to re-read the section on relay mode; Liz sighed, and shifted her position on the sofa. As she did so, Kath felt a thrill of sensation inside her; puzzled, she reached down and pressed her hand between her legs. As she did so, Liz’s eyes flew open, and she moaned loudly, nearly spilling the remains of her drink, she too reached between her legs, and Kath felt her muscles start to quiver and spasm. They made eye contact, and both stayed perfectly still for a moment. Then Liz giggled. “This is really weird. Very nice, but weird. What’s it doing to us ?”

“I think we’re getting each other’s feelings as well as our own. Sort of double-your-money. It’s ..... odd. Can you feel this ?” She stroked a finger over her clit, and Liz jerked again. “Ooooooh, yes, I certainly can !” Her own hand moved slightly, and Kath shuddered and twitched. “I guess Lezzies would get a big thrill out of this ! They could do one another good style !” “I bet ! I don’t understand, though.... I set up programmes for both of us but they don’t seem to be working....... " She stared at the remotes; Liz lurched to her feet, and stood next to her, peering at them too. “START PROG ?” was blinking in both displays, and before Kath could say anything, Liz had stretched out her hand and pressed the green button on her unit.

The effect was immediate; Kath gasped and fell back into the chair, her legs jerking apart; Liz grunted, her knees bucking as she fell sideways, half on top of Kath, her face pressed against Kath’s breasts. Kath responded instinctively, feeling the weight of another body on top of her; she wrapped her arms around Liz, pulling her down, panting, her lips searching until she found her mouth and started a deep, passionate kiss. Liz responded vigorously, her left hand grabbing at Kath’s breast; Kath slid her hand between Liz’s legs and fumbled frantically with her panties. Tangled together, they slid in an ungainly heap onto the rug, tearing at one another’s clothes, mouths locked, legs wrapped around one another, hips pumping, all sense of self completely lost in a desperate, aching passion.

By the time the program finished, they were naked and dishevelled, still wrapped around each other, Kath holding Liz’s head in both hands as she sucked frantically at her breasts. Slowly, their moans and writhing slowed to a standstill, and they both drew deep, shuddering breaths.

It was half a minute before Liz broke the silence, with a whispered “Jesus Fucking Christ !", her face still buried in Kath’s cleavage. Kath giggled, helplessly, and Liz raised her head to smile up at her. “I never had you down as a dyke”, she muttered.

“Nor you.” replied Kath, stroking her head. “But it was pretty damn good !”

Liz raised herself up on her arms, and held herself over Kath, her nipples brushing against Kath’s parted breasts, her mouth open, her lips wet. “I want more”, she murmured, slowly sliding herself up and down, her knees between Kath’s splayed thighs. She lowered her head, and kissed Kath hungrily, then lifted herself clear again. Kath put her arms around her friend, and stroked her back. “Yes, more. But let’s go to the bedroom ?” Liz rocked back on her heels, and stood up in one fluid movement, then leaned down and offered a hand; Kath grasped it and pulled herself to her feet, ending up face to face with Liz again, their bodies touching. Then Liz turned, and picked up the two remotes. “Come on then. But I need to pee first.”

She made her way to the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her; as she went in, she handed the units to Kath. “Set us up something nice, eh, honey ? I’ll only be a moment”. Kath walked into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, and suddenly grinned. Liz had played a mean trick on her earlier, albeit a pleasant enough one. What was it ? “SHIFT”, “1”, “Up-arrow”, “ACTIVATE”. No tingle; she had used the right remote. She could tell them apart; hers was still shiny and new, Liz’s already chipped and scratched. She stood up with the remote still in her hand, and paced quietly over to the bathroom door, still grinning, and listened. Silence. She counted to twenty, then tapped. “Hey, lover, you coming out of there tonight ?”

“Just a second” came the anxious reply. She pushed the door open; Liz was on the toilet, her hands between her legs; she looked up, embarrassed. “I guess I’m just a bit over excited.” She muttered.

“No ...... no you’re not. I’ve locked you.”

“What ?”

“I can stop you peeing. With the remote. I can turn you on and off like a tap”.

Liz stared at her in astonishment, then looked worried. “Come on, kid, stop this. I really need to go.”

Kath offered the remote to her; Liz stood up to take it, and took a couple of steps forwards; as her hand touched the remote, Kath’s thumb pressed the green button. Liz gave a little yelp, as a cascade of golden liquid burst out from her groin, spraying her legs and splattering over the tiled floor. “Ooooooooowh !” She clamped her thighs together, but it was no good; within a second, she was standing in a spreading pool. She snatched the control and glared at it. “Turn it off. How the hell do I turn the damn thing off ? Stop this ! ”

“Here.” Kath reached across and prodded the keyboard; Liz sighed. “That was a horrid trick !”

“Well, you buzzed me earlier ..... that wasn’t very fair either !”

Liz laughed. “I guess I deserved it. Besides, it’s your floor that’s a mess !” She stepped out of the pool she had made, and grabbed a towel from the rail, wiping her legs and feet; when she had finished, she dropped the towel onto the pool, wiped it, then tossed it into the shower cubicle.

“You’d better not let me get my hands on your control, my dear, or you’ll spend the next week screaming, with your ankles behind your head !”

“I’m sorry, all right, no more tricks.”

“You’d better not ! That wasn’t nice. But you’re pretty good with those things. Come on, show me what you can do.” She walked across into the bedroom, and sprawled on the bed. Kath went to follow her, then turned back—and picked up her favourite deodorant can from the windowsill.

It was late morning by the time they finished breakfast; the planned shopping trip would have to be truncated. There was a strange sense of tension; the events of the previous night had assumed a dreamlike quality, and they both took care not to refer to the unusual direction their friendship had taken. They were both moving slowly, carefully, aware of aching muscles and soreness in unexpected places; Kath’s breasts were covered with delicate bruises from the bites she had pleaded for, pressing Liz’s face into her chest, and Liz had scratch marks on her back—she was perched on the edge of the chair with her legs to one side; with the help of Kath and the can of deodorant, she had experienced for herself the ecstasy that Program Five could give, and found it uncomfortable to sit straight. It was nearly lunchtime before they left for the city.

The next few weeks followed a similar pattern; Friday or Saturday nights out together, teasing the men, then back home together for another exhausting, orgiastic romp. Kath tutored Liz in the use of the remote, and they would experiment on each other, although by unspoken agreement the “Other Functions” were left severely alone. It was Christmas before the routine was broken; Liz had a long-standing commitment to visit her elderly parents in their retirement villa in Spain, and Kath suddenly realised how much she would miss her friend’s company. When she dropped her at the airport, their parting kiss was a little more than just a peck on the cheek. She drove home in a foul mood, weaving angrily though the heavy traffic and collecting a fine array of offensive gestures and horn-blowings from offended motorists. The flat seemed cold and empty; the sleet pattering against the picture window, over the slick, dark rooftops, put the final polish on her bleak mood. Even programme five did not attract, without the squirming warmth of Liz’s slim, strong body pressed against her.

Christmas had come and gone; the New Year had started. Liz was due back at the weekend, but there were three days of work to look forward to before then. Kath felt flat, tired and dissatisfied, and was using the keyfob a lot at work just to make life bearable; she knew she was doing her job poorly, but fortunately it was a quiet time and she could get away with slacking a little. Then on the Thursday, disaster struck; mid afternoon, she thumbed the keyfob to bring a little sunshine into her life, and after a brief tingle, nothing. She pressed the button again, and held it; the red light on the transmitter glowed brightly, but no sensation came. She swore violently under her breath—what the hell was wrong ? She had recharged only the night before, it couldn’t be that. Maybe the keyfob was faulty ? Damn, damn, damn, damn. She would have to try the main unit as soon as she got home. Until then .....

Three hours seemed to be an eternity; at quarter to five, she made her way to her boss’s desk. “Look, I’m feeling really rough .... I think I’m getting a cold. I’m going to nip off home and try to get some rest and shake it off”

“Of course, of course ! Honestly, you look really tired ...... look, don’t worry. Get off home now, have a rest. Maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow. Just pass any outstanding calls to Mehmet, he’ll handle them. Go on, git !”

She nearly ran a red light on the way home, but by the time she got near her flat, she had managed to get herself a bit more under control. She forced herself to wait for the lift, instead of running up the stairs, and strolled slowly to her door. It was Ok, she didn’t need this thing. It was her choice. She could do without it. Calmly, she hung her coat on the hook, picked up her post and sorted through it. Then she walked slowly through to the bedroom and took the remote from the bedside table drawer. She took a deep breath and pressed some buttons; nothing. A different program; nothing. In desperation she set the chastity lock, and fumbled between her legs, hoping for some sigh that the implant was still in some way active; but nothing, all felt normal. She rummaged in the dressing table drawer, and extracted the charger, sliding the plastic disc into position in her panties. She left it for fifteen minutes, then tried again; nothing. So bloody, bloody, normal. She flung the remote down on the bed.

Jenny; call Jenny. She would know. Damn, where was the number ? She grabbed her mobile phone from her handbag and frantically scrolled through the numbers. There; she pressed the call button. A long delay, and then the ringing started. One ... two..... three.......four ....... please, not the answerphone .....seven ...... eight .......“Hi, Homestyle Hair ?”

“Jenny ? Hi, It’s Kath”

“Kath ? Oh yes, Kath. What can I do for you ?”

“Look, Jenny, I’ve, er, I seem to have a problem with my, er, my piercing. It’s stopped working.”

“Oh, oh dear ! I’m so sorry. Have you tried both remotes ?”

“Yes. Nothing from either of them.”

“Have you tried recharging ?”

“I charged it last night, and tried again just now.” “Oh, hell. Look, I’ve got to go to a client in a few minutes but I’ll be finished by seven—I could call by at your place at about seven thirty ? Would that be OK ?”

“Fine. Yes, that’s fine. " Kath struggled to keep her voice calm and level. “No hurry, really.”

“It’s all right, I understand. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. This sort of thing has happened once or twice before, the diagnostic box can reset things.”

“Oh, good. That’s good to hear”.

“Sure, don’t worry. Look, I have to dash now or I’ll be late, but I’ll see you at half past seven. Bye”

“Bye......” the line went dead.

Kath paced the apartment for the next two hours, unable to rest or settle, watching the clock crawl round minute by treacly minute. She tried to read, to listen to music, to watch television; nothing helped. She would have killed for a cigarette , but that was another craving she knew she could never give in to again. And now she was getting a headache. Damn this thing, was she getting addicted ? Surely not ..... but it was so good, and she missed it so much ........ The buzzer had her leaping to her feet; she stood for a moment and smoothed her hair, before walking to the door phone. Yes, it was Jenny; she released the lock. Not long now........ she was already opening the door as Jenny walked the last few metres from the lift, carrying the grey plastic case. “Hiya ! How are you ?” Kath smiled wanly “Feeling a little tense, actually, you know ?” Jenny looked somehow sad. “I know ! Look, don’t worry, we’ll soon have it fixed.”

“Do you need me to undress ?”

“No, you just have to be in range of the box. But it might be more comfortable if you lie on the bed. It may take a few minutes. " Kath walked into the bedroom, and Jenny followed; she lay on the quilt as Jenny placed the case on the dressing table stool and flipped it open. “Let’s see. Have you got the sheet with your serial number ?” Kath offered the printed sheet, and Jenny squinted at it in the dim light, entering the code into the bulky unit. “I’m going to try resetting the implant, then a standard test cycle. It may feel a bit funny down there”.

“I remember last time. it was OK.”

“Hmmm, sometimes it can hurt a bit. Ready ?”

Kath nodded; Jenny clicked a key, and watched as the woman’s eyes rolled upward in her head as she started to pant and moan softly. She studied her for a moment, checking that the device had achieved full effectiveness, then turned back to the case. Moving quickly, she extracted four heavy black straps, which she attached to the castors at the corners of the bed; then she looped the thick, padded webbing around each wrist and ankle and pulled the fastening tight. In less than a minute, Kath was spread-eagled and helpless , still semi-conscious and struggling feebly against the strong bonds. As she writhed and twitched, Jenny lifted the pistol-like injector from the case and snapped a cartridge on to the nozzle; she lifted Kath’s skirt and pushed her panties aside, placing the muzzle in the fold of skin to the right of her vagina.

A loud click, and then she was slotting another cartridge into place; this one went into the left side. A third shot went into the smooth skin between her vagina and anus. Jenny stood up, and fetched two more cartridges from the case; lifting Kath’s blouse and pulling up her bra, she injected one device into the tip of each nipple. Then the two last ones—first into the throat at the base of her neck, the other into her tongue. Kath whimpered slightly at the last shot, and strained against the bonds, but they held firm; when Jenny clicked the control again, cutting off the stimulation, she was wrenching at the straps and cursing within a couple of seconds. “What the fuck are you doing, you little bitch ? Let me go ! You are in so much trouble, you evil little cow ! I’m going to UUUUUUUUHHHHHHhhhhhggg ...” Her eyes widened in shock, as Jenny’s thumb pressed a key on the box. The red-haired girl stood by the bed, looking at the angry, frightened woman lying trembling beside her, and a tear trickled slowly down her cheek. “Oh Kath, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. But I don’t have a choice. I have to do this. I have to. Oh, God !” She fell to her knees, hands covering her face, sobbing. Baffled and frightened, still restrained, somehow unable to speak, Kath could do nothing but lie there until the crying slowly died away.

Eventually, Jenny stood up, turning away from Kath and mopping her face with a crumpled tissue; she snuffled noisily. Then she sat down on the bedroom chair, facing away from Kath, and began speaking in a low, choked voice.

“Kath, I’m sorry. I really, really am. But they’ve got me, and now they’ve got you as well. The implants, they’re a trap. You start off with the one in your clit, and it’s really good, and they leave you to get used to it, and you like it, and then after a while it stops working, so you call for help. Well, now it’s not just the one. You’ve got four between your legs, one in each tit, and they’re in your throat and tongue as well. I’m the same. They can control you now. They can make you do anything they want. They really can, believe me. I’ve tried to fight it and it’s no good. It hurts so much, you think you’re going to die. And you can’t speak, you can’t cry out, you can’t even breathe, you can’t take a piss or a crap if they don’t want you to. Oh shit, shit, SHIT ! I HATE this ! I ...... I tried to kill myself once........ but they found out....... " her voice sank to a whisper, “.... I was punished for that....” She straightened. “Look, I don’t want to do this. I have to take you for training. They’re waiting outside in a car. I’m going to let you go from those straps, and when I do, please don’t fight or anything, because I’ll have to hurt you, or they’ll hurt me. Please ?” Kath stared in horror at the girl’s anguished, tear-streaked face, as she stood twisting the crumpled tissue between her delicate fingers. “I’m ..... I’m just going to give you a little jolt. Just so you know what it feels like .... so you know it’s for real.... so you understand. You do understand, don’t you ? They can do this to me too ..... I’m sorry......” she clicked on a keyfob remote she had taken from the case. Kath’s strangled squeal filled the room; her back arched, her head flew back as she gagged, trying to scream , trying to breathe, trying anything to escape the agony exploding through her pelvis and chest. It felt like two red-hot irons had been rammed into her vagina and anus; he bladder was full of white flame; her breasts a mass of searing agony. And then it was over, and she flopped back onto the bed, crying with pain and humiliation. As she lay there sobbing, Jenny gently unfastened the straps from her wrists and ankles, trying not to touch the angry red weals that the cuffs had created. “Get up, please. Please, Kath. I hate this. Please ! Please don’t make me hurt you !”

Not looking at her, Kath swung herself off the bed and stood trembling beside Jenny. She thought of trying to snatch the little remote; but what good would that be ? She tried to speak, but she could only make a sort of choking noise; she could not plead for mercy. Besides, the girl seemed genuinely distressed and frightened; no wonder, if she had been hurt like that.

“You need to tidy yourself up. We have to go; I’m not allowed much time.” Kath slipped her breasts back into her bra, and pulled down her blouse, then straightened her skirt. “You’d better wash your face, too.” Kath walked towards the bathroom, but had gone only a few steps when pain raged like a flame though her body; behind her, she heard Jenny give a strangled squawk.

And then it stopped. “Hurry up—please—that was a warning. They’re getting impatient. We have to go soon !” Kath dashed into the bathroom and scrubbed her face with a damp facecloth, then with a dry towel; most of her makeup was gone, just a few dirty streaks remained, and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She came out to find Jenny had cleaned her face with more tissues, and packed up the plastic case; Kath grabbed her handbag and keys, and together, they walked briskly down the hallway to the lift.

The car was a large 4x4 with tinted windows, parked on the road just beyond the entrance to the apartment’s private car park, and conveniently just out of range of the security camera. There were two bulky figures sitting quietly in the front seats, and the passenger window was down a little; the glow of a cigarette waxed and waned inside. Jenny opened the back door, and gestured for Kath to enter, then climbed in after her. The door thumped shut; a few seconds later the engine started, the headlights snapped on, and the big vehicle rolled smoothly away into the sleety winter night.