The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Are you sure, Sandra?” Alice’s right hand ran nervously through her hair, her left hand holding her phone to her ear. “I still think if we give Chloe a candle—”

“We talked about this,” Sandra insisted. “This is the best idea. We decided.” Alice could imagine her girlfriend, phone held between her head and her shoulder as she worked the wax that would make another candle.

Sandra was so beautiful.

And they had talked about it, after seeing Mia and Tanya off top the hospital. But it was more like you decided, not us, Alice thought glumly.

“I can’t work on the candle and talk at the same time,” Sandra declared. “And anyway, don’t you have to get ready?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Alice wasn’t sure what she was supposed to wear. Not when she was meeting Angela Henderson, the woman who had given them the candles in the first place, for the first time.

“You’re going to tell me all about it, after you get back, right?” Sandra sounded like she was only half-concentrating on the conversation. Alice couldn’t blame her girlfriend for that. She wondered what shade of green the candle was now. It didn’t matter. When Sandra had finished it would be the jade green of Alice’s girlfriend’s eyes. “Love you,” Sandra added.

“Love you too,” Alice sighed, before ending the call. She lost herself in thoughts of her girlfriend for a few moments before turning back to her wardrobe. Something smart? she pondered. She did have a skirt suit that her mother had made her buy when her school had sent them all on work experience. It was a little much for a weekend visit, no matter how important today was. They were supposed to be visiting Nichole. Alice’s eldest sister having moved out to live with her ‘employer’. But the butterflies in Alice’s stomach were all about meeting Angela.

The woman who had taken Nichole from them.

Somehow she was going to get Nichole back.

Alice pushed that thought down, down into the dark place in her mind she was sure Angela couldn’t reach.

Maybe a good pair of jeans? At least considering her wardrobe choices kept other thoughts at bay.

Thinking about what to wear? Alice shivered as Angela’s voice invaded her mind. She could feel the link from her candle back to the other woman. Dressing up for me? Like a good little doll?

You said I didn’t have to be a doll, Alice grumped back, wishing she knew how to force the other woman out of her mind.

I did, didn’t I? Alice could feel the amusement in the other woman’s voice. If you prove you can be a good owner. But would a good owner let one of her dolls get hurt?

Angela was referring to what had happened to Mia and Tanya. I did what I could, Alice protested. They’ll be alright. She’d checked in on both girls that morning. They were recovering from their injuries, but Angela only seemed interested in Mia.

Maybe, Angela allowed. Or maybe not. And as to you, I haven’t decided yet. You might still be better as a doll. Hmm. Not the jeans. Or the skirt suit. If you’re going to be my doll, you’re going to be a schoolgirl doll. So get that uniform on. But some nice lingerie underneath. Maybe a slutty schoolgirl doll? That would be nice.

Alice tried to resist. But there was a light, a blue light, coming from somewhere.

From her candle.

She couldn’t help looking at the candle. She had to gaze at it.

She had to do what she was told.

Like a good doll.

Yes, that’s just what we want. Angela continued, not that Alice could really take her words in anymore. Not consciously. But she obeyed. A bit slutty. And a bit bratty. Won’t that be fun? Yes it will. Now get moving.

Alice blinked. She thought there’d been something. Maybe a voice. And a light. No, that couldn’t be right. She had to get dressed. She was going to see Nichole.

Bloody Nichole. She gets all the luck.

For a moment Alice thought about simply refusing to go. It was so tempting. She could head over to Sandra’s. That would be much more fun than some trip to see her stupid elder sister and her employer.

But Alice knew that her mother would never let her get away with that. So she needed to decide what to wear. For a moment she thought about wearing the tightest, shortest, shorts she could find and a skimpy halter top. Just to annoy her mother.

But then she had a better idea.

Well, if she wants me to be presentable, the blonde grinned.

Alice pulled out one of her school uniforms. And for underneath, the sluttiest underwear she could find. If she delayed her arrival downstairs long enough her mother wouldn’t be able to tell her to change, and Alice could laugh the whole time about what her mother would think if she knew what was under the uniform.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Alice’s other sister, Ruth, scoffed when Alice finally made it downstairs in response to their mother’s repeated calls.

“Oh dear, Alice, really?” their mother, Elaine, sighed. “Couldn’t you have chosen something else. I don’t know what Miss Henderson will think.”

“I could go change,” Alice offered innocently, pointing back up the stairs.

Elaine hesitated for a moment, then sighed again. “No, we’re late as it is. Don’t you want to see Nichole? Oh well, at least it’s decent.” Their mother glanced at Ruth’s hemline. Alice’s pleated skirt was short, but the hem on Ruth’s dress barely covered anything at all.

Even so Alice had to suppress a giggle, wondering what her mother would think of her underwear.

The trip to Miss Henderson’s house felt like it would never end. Alice hadn’t realised that Nichole’s employer lived in the countryside. It felt like they were going forever. It didn’t help her mood that her mother showed no sympathy for her complaints.

“It looks like a museum,” Alice huffed as they finally got out of the car. “Are we even going to be allowed inside? Maybe we need to find the servants entrance. Oh, we’re here to see little Nichole,” Alice continued, sliding her voice up an octave. “The scullery maid. Please don’t disturb the mistress of the house with our insignificant presence.”

Alice gave her best attempt at a curtsy, her fingers delicately holding the edges of her short skirt away from her thighs.

Their mother just sighed as Ruth failed to suppress a giggle.

As their mother turned and headed to the house, Alice threw a kiss over her shoulder at Ruth. She was sure her sister had noticed exactly what Alice had on under her skirt. She wondered what Ruth had under her dress. Or if she had anything at all. Maybe she should throw her sister against the side of the car and find out. Slide her hand up Ruth’s thigh and under that short hem. From the way Ruth was looking at her Alice didn’t think her sister would put up any resistance. She could slip her fingers inside her sister. She’d bet Ruth was already wet.

Two minutes and Ruth would be cumming on her fingers.

“Come along, girls,” Elaine called.

Reluctantly, Alice turned and followed their mother toward the house.

‘House’, Alice allowed, probably wasn’t a fair description of the building before them. It was all stone and spires and God knew how many rooms.

Despite Alice’s suggestion, Elaine led her daughters to the front door, a massive thing of oak and iron. A pretty young brunette, dressed in an almost risqué maid’s outfit, all high hem, higher even than Ruth’s, and low-cut neckline, let them in. “I’ll let Miss Henderson know you’re here,” the girl muttered shyly before hurrying off, Alice admiring what her high heels did to her calves.

Once the girl disappeared, Alice looked around the massive entrance hall. Dark, polished, timber lined walls that were covered in old paintings. The floor was patterned stone.

She tried not show how awestruck she felt.

“God, why are we here?” Alice grumped a few minutes later. The place might have been impressive but she had better things to do.

Like her girlfriend.

“Now Alice,” Elaine scolded her. “Don’t be like that. We’re here to see your sister. You know that.”

Alice rolled her eyes at her mother’s long suffering tone. It was always Nichole. Nichole this, Nichole that. How well Nichole did everything. How everything had to be just right for Nichole. Even now that Nichole had moved out of home their mother still put Nichole first.

“Ah, Mrs Stevens,” a voice called out. “Hello. And this must be Alice and Ruth.”

Despite her bad mood Alice couldn’t help looking up, her breath taken away by the vision before her. The blonde coming down the stairs might have been a good decade or more older than her but the woman was gorgeous.

I’d jump that in a second, Alice thought, mentally licking her lips.

What? That wasn’t right. She had a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend. But it was an open relationship. No, I. Boys? Odd thoughts kept intruding. Trying to tell her…

The woman before her had such beautiful eyes. Blue. Alice was sure she knew that shade from somewhere.

She forgot her worries. Sandra wouldn’t mind what she did. As long as Alice came back.

Of course Alice would.

Sandra’s pussy was the best.

Something had told Alice that.

Something blue.

While her thoughts had been drifting her mother had made the introductions. Alice wasn’t sure that she’d said anything, but no-one seemed angry at her, so maybe she had.

The woman, Ms. Henderson, Nichole’s employer, led them upstairs.

Of course Nichole would be lucky enough to get a job before she’d even graduated. And with an employer like this.

Alice’s eyes were fixed on the woman’s arse the whole way up. The things she could do to that arse. She noticed her sister glancing at Ms. Henderson as well. And her mother.

Why not? They were all gay.

Weren’t they?

Ms. Henderson glanced over her shoulder, a delicious thrill shooting through Alice as the woman’s blue eyes held her.

Of course all of Alice’s family were gay. They always had been.

Alice knew that.

Something had told her.

Something whose colour was the same blue as Ms. Henderson’s eyes.

“Here she is,” Ms. Henderson announced eventually. They’d arrived in a room whose window gave a breath-taking view of the house’s grounds.

“Oh my,” Alice’s mother gushed “She looks so happy.”

She looks like she’s about to cum, Alice smirked to herself.

Her sister, Nichole, just stood there, behind the glass of a display case. In a revealing sparkly purple dress and high heels. Not moving. Alice wasn’t even sure her sister was breathing. Nichole looked like a very realistic wax statue or a mannequin modelled after herself. Of course she wasn’t any of those, Alice knew it was her sister, but the way Nichole just stood there was so odd.

“But isn’t being in there, a bit, well, unusual?” Elaine asked, hesitantly, echoing her youngest daughter’s doubts.

“Not for a doll,” Ms. Henderson corrected Alice’s mother. “A display case is the right place for a beautiful doll like her. She’s my doll, now, don’t you remember?”

Alice blinked, her thoughts growing fuzzy. All she could think about was how blue Ms. Henderson’s eyes were. And how turned on she was. She could see Ruth and her mother swaying, just slightly.

Then her mother smiled. “Oh, of course.”

Ruth just nodded.

Of course it was right. Nichole was Ms. Henderson’s doll. Bloody Nichole gets all the luck. With the way Nichole’s eyes were slightly hooded and her lips just parted Alice was sure that she was right about her sister being on the verge of an orgasm.

Jealousy shot through the young blonde. She wished she was cumming. With Sandra’s tongue thrust deep inside her centre. Or maybe Ms. Henderson’s. Did Nichole get some of that tongue? Just how did Ms. Henderson play with her doll? Maybe it was Nichole who got to lick out the blonde beauty. Nichole was so lucky.

It was always about Nichole.

“We’ve said hello,” Alice grumbled. “Can we go now?”

“Alice!” her mother exclaimed. “Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, Ms. Henderson, but teenagers, well.”

Alice rolled her eyes before looking at Ruth. Surely her sister would sympathise with her. Ruth must have been as annoyed as her at being dragged into the countryside for the afternoon. Even if it was to see their sister. Who Alice did miss. But surely Ruth would deliver one of her snappy comebacks.

Alice’s brunette sister just waved at Nichole’s unmoving figure and simpered “Hello”.

Of course, that was right. Ruth was a good girl. She looked it, in her pretty dress with its short skirt.

Doesn’t Ruth only wear jeans and leggings?

Of course Ruth didn’t. She never did. It was only ever skirts and dresses for the middle sister. Despite what some wisps of memories tried to tell Alice.

Tried. And failed.

Ruth was a good girl.

A very good girl.

Something blue had told Alice that.

Alice’s mother was beaming at Nichole. “I’m glad she’s happy. I’m so proud of her. But, um, could we talk to her?”

“Not now,” Ms. Henderson declared. “I rather like her where she is. Perhaps another time.”

Elaine nervously shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hands fidgeting. “Oh, well, if you say so. Thank you for choosing one of my daughters to, uh, be your doll.”

God, do you have to be like that? Would her mother ever grow a backbone? At her age probably not. You’d think being the single parent of three daughters would require some strength. For a moment Alice was sure her mother had that. But then the thought was gone. Her mother was always like this with people more important than her.

“Well, you do have three beautiful daughters.”

Elaine’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, uh. That’s, um, very kind of you.”

Alice wondered if self-consciousness was the only source of the heat her mother was feeling. She was definitely feeling something much more erotic as she gazed at her sister’s owner.

What? How could her sister be owned? Doubts plagued the young blonde. This was all wrong. Why would her mother be happy at her sister being owned? Being nothing more than a thing? And why was jealousy all she was feeling? She should be worried about her sister. Want her out of here. And she shouldn’t have a girlfriend because she…

There was a flash of something blue. Alice’s thoughts dissolved.

She forgot her concerns.

“Who’s this?” Alice asked, pointing at another woman in a display case that stood a few feet away from Nichole’s. The woman was a brunette, maybe in her early twenties. She had an edgy haircut and a very cute face. She wasn’t moving or breathing either. Alice assumed it was another of Ms. Henderson’s dolls. Just how many does she have? The woman obviously had money. Rich people and their collections. Pfft.

The brunette in the second case wasn’t as attractive as Ms. Henderson, but she was still hot. Really hot. Totally doable hot. Alice’s arousal was burning higher. Of course it was. All pretty women turned her on. She wanted them. All of them. Didn’t she?

Of course she did. Something had told her that. Had told her how turned on they made her. How their legs, their breasts, their delicate noses and kissable lips and gorgeous eyes always made her so hot and bothered. Made her pussy drip and her breasts ache as lust burnt through her. Alice couldn’t remember what it was that had told her.

Only that it was something blue.

She’d always been gay. She was so turned on by beautiful women.

That blue something had told her all that too.

She was turned on now, gazing at the brunette behind the glass.

Alice imagined what the woman’s hair would feel like as she ran her hands through it. How soft her skin would feel under her kisses. What the brunette would look like crying out in bliss.

“Oh, that’s Nichole’s girlfriend, Clara. Hasn’t she told you about her?”

“Oh no,” Alice’s mother replied hurriedly. “She does look nice. Maybe they could come for dinner sometime? I mean, if your dolls can…”

“Go out by themselves?” Ms Henderson finished for her. “Yes. Maybe they should visit you. That would be, …, amusing.”

Of course it bloody would. Nichole showing off her girlfriend who is also one of your dolls. Gah. Ms. Henderson would play with them together. Do whatever she wanted with them. Fuck them. The idea was so hot, Alice could feel her pussy, so warm and wet and squishy. She wished Sandra was here. In a place this big they could find somewhere private, where they wouldn’t be found. Nichole wouldn’t have to worry about things like that. Alice was sure that Nichole was allowed to fuck her girlfriend in front of her owner.

Nichole was so damn lucky.

But then again, maybe Ms. Henderson wouldn’t mind if Alice and Sandra fucked in front of her.

The woman had definitely pinged Alice’s gaydar.

“So you have more than one doll?” Elaine asked hesitantly. “Um, would you like some more? Maybe another of my other daughters could be a doll for you? Or maybe both? Girls, stand up straight, let Ms. Henderson have a look at you.”

Without even thinking Alice snapped to attention. She hoped Ms. Henderson would agree. Then she’d get to show Nichole who was the better doll. It was always Nichole. Alice did love her sister, but the way their mother went on and on was so annoying.

Alice would show them.

Her insides were boiling as Ms. Henderson stood in front of her.

“Well, she is very beautiful,” their hostess commented, heat flaring through Alice from where the woman’s fingers caressed her cheek. “But I already have a blonde Stevens doll. I’m not sure I need another.”

Alice’s stomach dropped away. Ms. Henderson had chosen Nichole over her.

It was always like that.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Elaine looked as crestfallen as Alice felt.

“Don’t be,” Ms. Henderson reassured Alice’s mother. The woman was smiling. It was such a kind smile. You could drown in that smile. And those eyes. “Alice has other things to do. How’s school?”

Alice hesitated. Something told her that it wasn’t a simple question. That somehow Ms. Henderson knew what Alice did, with Sandra.

“Great!” the young blonde beamed. What she and Sandra did was great. Wasn’t it? A shiver of doubt passed through Alice. What she did. What she and her girlfriend did. How did they? How could they? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t what she wanted.

Looking into Ms, Henderson’s eyes Alice was sure that it was what she wanted. It was everything she wanted.

“Um, what about Ruth?” Alice’s mother asked.

“A brunette Stevens doll,” Ms. Henderson mused. Out of the corner of her eye Alice could see the woman holding her sister’s chin between two fingers, turning Ruth’s head back and forth. “That might make a nice pair to have for my collection. And she comes with a girlfriend, doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” their mother agreed hurriedly. “Lisa. She’s a pretty girl. Very sweet.”

Damn it. No! Alice couldn’t believe it. Both of her sisters, but not her? It wasn’t fair!

But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t say a thing.

She wasn’t allowed to.

“A girlfriend,” Ms Henderson repeated. “What a wonderful accessory. What do you think Ruth? Would you like to be my doll?”

“Oh yes, Ms. Henderson,” Alice’s sister gushed happily. “That would be amazing. You could dress me up and play with me. And Lisa. And both of us together.”

I hate you, Alice thought. She didn’t hate Ruth, she allowed. Not really. She loved her sisters. But the chance to be Ms. Henderson’s doll… Why was she the one missing out?

“Hmm.” Ms. Henderson’s hand had slipped down to rest on Ruth’s chest, her fingers idly playing along the neckline of the brunette’s dress. Alice’s sister didn’t seem to mind at all. “Perhaps. Probably. But not yet. There’s some things you have to do. Now why don’t you and your mother wait here with Nichole? I want to talk to Alice.”

There, Alice thought smugly. I’m the one who gets to spend time alone with her. Take that!

But before Alice could revel any more in her good fortune Ms. Henderson turned to Clara’s case and opened it.

“Come along Clara,” their hostess commanded.

Alice watched, amazed, as a shiver ran through the brunette. The woman’s eyelids fluttered as she drew breath.

“What?” Nichole’s girlfriend snapped, glaring at the imposing blonde.

What an odd doll, Alice thought.

“Don’t be like that,” Ms. Henderson shot back. “This is Nichole’s family. Say hello.”

“Hello,” Clara grumbled without any obvious enthusiasm.

Alice’s mother’s gushing in return was cut off by a look from Ms. Henderson.

Alice thought that Clara mumbled something that didn’t sound very polite.

“Clara!” Ms. Henderson snapped. “If you can’t be nice, then be quiet. Don’t worry Elaine, I’ll make sure she’s much better behaved when she visits you. Clara, follow me and do as you’re told.”

Clara threw a glare at everyone else in the room before following her owner. Alice scurried along in the rear as Ms. Henderson led them from the room. Behind her Alice could hear her mother and sister excitedly talking about how Ruth and Lisa were going to be Ms. Henderson’s dolls. She could imagine Ruth, standing in one of those cases. Motionless. Just like Nichole.

The thought was so hot. They’d do anything they were told.

Just like the rest of Ms. Henderson’s dolls.

Alice was still licking her lips at the images as Ms. Henderson led her and Clara to another room.

“Close the door, Clara,” the older woman ordered. “Then come over here and stand up straight.”

The brunette doll huffed, but went to do as she was told.

“She is rather prickly,” Ms. Henderson offered, conspiratorially. “But that can be fun.”

Alice wasn’t sure what to say.

“Now,” Ms. Henderson continued. Clara standing in front of them. “What would you like to do to her?”

Alice gaped, her eyes wide, as she looked from Clara to Ms. Henderson and back again. She let her gaze roam over the brunette. Thoughts flooded her mind. What she could do. Her hands ached to touch the woman. To strip her naked. To ravish her. To have the woman on her knees.

This woman.

One of Ms. Henderson’s dolls.

Nichole’s girlfriend.

She’d do anything Alice wanted. Alice could ride her face and scream out in bliss and Clara would just obey.

No. That couldn’t be right. This was Nichole’s girlfriend. She shouldn’t just use the woman like that. Shouldn’t want to.

But she did. Alice’s pussy was so wet and her nipples were so hard and she could imagine ripping every strip of clothing off of this Clara and just taking her.

She wanted it so much.

“Just so,” Ms. Henderson smiled.

How did Ms. Henderson know what Alice was thinking? Maybe it was plain on her face. Burning in her eyes.

“Do it,” Nichole’s owner ordered.

It was only fair, after all. Nichole had fucked Alice’s girlfriend, Sandra. So why shouldn’t Alice fuck Nichole’s girlfriend?

Sisters should share. A corner of Alice’s lip curled up at the thought.

She hesitated, just for a moment, reluctant to perform in front of an audience. But then she remembered what she Sandra and done in front of her mother. It hadn’t quite been sex, but it was so close. Writhing on the lounge, in front of her family, in front of her mother, her and Sandra in panties and nothing else, her thigh between Sandra’s legs, her lips locked around her girlfriend’s nipple. Them both crashing over the edge. How could she do that in front of her mother?

It was wrong.

Somewhere someone was beating a closed fist on a wall. Crying out, pleading. Alice didn’t know where it was coming from. It might have been in her head.

It didn’t matter.

Ms. Henderson’s eyes were so blue.

“Get down on your knees,” Alice ordered, grinning at the brunette.

“What?” Clara protested. “Why you little bitch. I—”

“Do what she says,” Ms. Henderson cut in, the older blonde’s arms leisurely folded over her chest, a thin smile on her face. “And be quiet.”

Clara dropped to her knees without another word. She did shoot a resentful glare at her owner.

Alice thought that made everything even hotter.

“So you’re Nichole’s girlfriend, huh?” Alice asked, leaning over, her hand possessively on the woman’s cheek.

Clara just nodded, but the look in her eyes said so much more, disdain and anger burning there.

Lust flared through the young blonde.

“I bet you’ve fucked her. A lot.” Alice’s hand jerked Clara’s head up. “Well, now you’re going to fuck me.”

That pounding, the fist on the wall, grew louder. Alice could almost hear the words. The voice was so desperate.

So pointless.

Alice dropped her panties, pulled up her skirt. She didn’t care that it was in front of Nichole’s owner. She was going to show the woman what she could do.

And doing it to Nichole’s girlfriend was so hot.

“Lick me, slut.”

Somehow she knew that calling the woman that was the right thing. Something had told her that.

Something blue.

The resentment was still burning in Clara’s eyes as she leant in to obey.

The pounding on the wall was still there, but there was so much more. The blood pounding in Alice’s head. The lust ripping through her. The sensations as Clara’s tongue found its way inside.

She gripped the woman’s hair, forced Clara’s face into her centre.

“Harder, bitch.”

This woman was how much older than her? Five years? Seven? Definitely older. And doing everything Alice told her.

She was almost cumming. This was Nichole’s girlfriend’s tongue and it was so deep inside her.

The pounding was in time with the thrusts of that tongue.

She loved it.

She could take whatever she wanted. She thought of Clara’s body. The swell of the breasts she’d seen under the woman’s blouse. She was going to rip that blouse off her. And her skirt. Feast on that arse. Take everything.

Everything.

Alice screamed out her orgasm, pushed the woman away, Clara sprawling on her back. Nichole’s girlfriend glared up at her, but the brunette didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Ms. Henderson asked casually.

“Fuck, yeah,” Alice grinned. She didn’t care about the pounding in her head. Or the tear forming in the corner of one eye. Of course her eyes were watering. That was just how much she’d enjoyed herself.

It wasn’t anything else.

She ignored the tear, let it run slowly down her cheek. The moisture felt so heavy against her skin. As if the drop carried more than salt and water.

Ms. Henderson smiled. “Yes, yes you did like that.”

Alice dropped to her knees beside Clara, loomed over the supine woman. Tension was radiating off the brunette, suppressed anger.

Alice could feel another orgasm rising.

Her hands gripped the edges of the woman’s blouse. Just before she pulled them apart the tear fell from her face, landing on the white silk, the moisture spreading out, a ragged, indistinct, shape.

She pulled, buttons flying. She didn’t want to see that shape. Alice’s hands flew to the brunette’s tits, Clara hadn’t been wearing a bra.

Vaguely, as she mauled those breasts, fingers and teeth and tongue, Alice heard Ms. Henderson speaking. “I have so much to teach you.”

Alice loved to learn.

“But first.” There was a blinding blue light, Alice’s head feeling like it was going to explode. Then everything righted itself. “Leave Clara alone for the moment,” Ms. Henderson ordered.

Alice didn’t want to. Her hands were still on the brunette’s boobs, luxuriating in the feel of them, the hard nipples pushing into her palms. She wanted Clara, wanted to feast on her sister’s girlfriend.

But she had to obey Ms. Henderson. Something told her that.

Something blue.

She started to rise.

“Stay on your knees.”

There was something so right about that. Alice felt it in her bones as she shuffled around to face Nichole’s owner. Maybe she could still persuade Ms. Henderson to take her as a doll. There was a need in Alice, a yearning. To be owned.

God, that would be so good.

She wouldn’t have to think. She’d just have to be pretty and obedient.

I love to obey.

She rolled the thought around in her head. It was like cream and cherries and warm sun.

Like the best tongue in the world on her pussy.

Better. Just the mere though had her melting.

Like it was what she was meant to be.

“Crawl over to me.”

Of course Alice would do that. She’d do anything this woman asked. She’d beg for the chance to be owned. It was all she wanted.

All she needed.

As Alice crawled across the floor she wanted to cry out in joy. She was obeying. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing had ever made her feel so complete. Her nipples were so hard and her pussy was dripping.

But she didn’t cry out.

She hadn’t been told that she could.

Even obeying like that was so delicious.

Was this what Nichole felt? When her sister was allowed to feel anything at all? This bliss? This overriding devotion? Alice was drowning in it. Wanted to drown in it.

“You know what to do,” Ms. Henderson announced as Alice reached her feet.

Alice looked up. She knew she was allowed to do that.

Ms. Henderson had lifted her skirt. The woman wasn’t wearing any panties.

Alice gazed in awe at the older woman’s pussy. She’d never known what true worship was.

She knew now.

She reached out to Ms. Henderson’s thighs. Just the touch of skin, Alice’s fingers feather-light, hardly daring to make contact, sent shivers of delight through the young blonde. She could spend hours, days, just gazing at one point on Ms. Henderson’s body.

It would be so good to be allowed that.

Trembling, she licked at Ms. Henderson’s inner thigh. The older blonde ran her hands through Alice’s hair, the teen taking that as a sign of encouragement. Slowly she moved higher, kissing, exploring, always moving closer to the woman’s centre.

The centre of Alice’s universe.

She ran her tongue along Ms. Henderson’s opening. The woman tasted divine. Her tongue circled Ms. Henderson’s clit. To be allowed to touch her owner like this. To be obeying. Nothing else mattered, it was the sun and the moon and air and everything had led to this and nothing else mattered and she had to be inside her owner, she had to.

Hungrily she licked that opening, her tongue just parting her owner’s folds.

“Oh, that’s it,” Ms. Henderson breathed. “Aren’t you an eager little slut?”

Alice didn’t mind what Ms. Henderson called her. She had Ms. Henderson’s attention, was basking in it. She’d do anything for just one smile, one word. She had to obey. Had to. Nothing else mattered. It was who was. What she was.

She was Ms. Henderson’s slutty, bratty schoolgirl doll.

She was owned. She’d obey.

A slutty, bratty, schoolgirl doll wouldn’t just do what she was told. Being on her knees and licking the woman was pretty slutty. But it wasn’t very bratty.

“Are you sure you want this?” Alice grinned, looking up at her owner. Her tongue darted for the older woman’s opening again, tasting her nectar. “I mean, really, you’ve got so many other dolls. Maybe I should go back to my family and leave you with Clara. Maybe I don’t want to do this. I mean, God, you’re so much older than me. Maybe I should tell my mother what you want me to do.”

Even that teasing, even that hint of rebellion, was obeying. She was being what Ms. Henderson wanted her to be. Nothing more. Every bratty word was golden obedience, Alice’s mind humming with pleasure and the need to be owned.

“Just do what you’re told,” Ms. Henderson laughed, not unkindly.

“Oh well then,” Alice smiled, before thrusting her tongue as deep in the other blonde as she could, her reward a delighted yelp from her owner.

Alice knew just what to do. Just how to please. She’d practiced so much with her girlfriend. But that was all it had been, just practice. This was everything.

It wasn’t long before Ms. Henderson’s hips were bucking, Alice’s owner cumming all over her face.

“Cum,” Ms. Henderson ordered, Alice’s orgasm exploding through her.

Alice’s mind spun as the pleasure overtook her.

“Now remember.”

Alice staggered back from Ms. Henderson, stumbling to her feet as blue light engulfed her world again. Her mind reeled. At how much she remembered. At how much she’d forgotten. “W-what?” she spluttered, desperately trying to wipe the woman’s juices off her face.

“See?” Angela grinned. “Wouldn’t it be fun to be my doll?”

Alice could barely think. She’d never wanted to be a doll. She didn’t want to be owned. But she could remember how it felt. How she had wanted to be the woman’s doll. How her pussy had dripped at the idea. How her mind had melted. How much she’d needed it. How the thought had set her insides burning.

When so many memories had been buried away.

She wanted to run screaming from the room.

She never wanted to feel that way again, even as the temptation to drown in obedience swirled through her mind, pulling at her, tugging at her resolve, whispering how easy it would be to just forget everything and obey.

To be owned.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” the older blonde was continuing. “Being a slutty, bratty, doll for me?” Alice could feel parts of her melting, turning liquid. Those parts of her just wanted to fall to her knees again and worship the beauty in front of her. “Do you want to be a doll?”

Alice hesitated. Part of her wanted to say ‘Yes’. The needy part, that just wanted to be held and petted and told what to do. That wanted to forget about thought and decisions and wanted to be owned.

Just like Nichole was.

It would be so hot. Not having to think except what she was told to think. To be just what she was told to be. She could be Angela’s slutty, bratty, schoolgirl doll and never have to worry about anything ever again.

It was so hot, liquid arousal coursing through the blonde.

There was probably a case in the house already, in some room. Standing empty. Waiting for her. Where she could be displayed and beautiful and just brought out to play whenever Angela wanted.

Maybe there were two cases in that room. One for her and one for Sandra. They could be there together, in their uniforms. Waiting to be told what to do. What to be.

Her and Sandra.

“No!” Alice cried. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to just be a toy. And she certainly didn’t want that for her girlfriend.

“I suppose not,” Angela smiled. “Even when I blocked off so many of your memories, you knew just what to do with little Clara here. On your knees Clara.”

Nichole’s girlfriend rose to her knees, glaring up at her owner.

Angela ignored the expression, patting Clara on the head.

Alice thought the brunette looked amazing, Clara’s breasts exposed with her blouse hanging open and Alice’s juices smeared on her face. Forcing the woman to her will had been such a turn on, the memories spreading delicious warmth through Alice.

Alice frowned. There’d been other memories. Of doubts. About herself and Sandra and her family and…

Alice dismissed them. They must have just been part of Angela’s test. They couldn’t have been real. She’d always been gay. Always loved Sandra.

The pounding in her head was just the rush of blood of her arousal.

“Clara is my doll,” Angela was explaining. “Not just because I tell her to believe it. It’s part of who she is. Isn’t that right Clara?”

“Yes, Ms. Henderson,” Clara replied. For a doll Alice thought the brunette sounded awfully grumpy.

“I gave you a taste of that just then, Alice,” Ms, Henderson continued. “So you almost know what it feels like for them. All the time. When you make someone your doll. Really make them your doll, that’s almost what it’s like. I couldn’t quite give you what it really is. Not without making you one of them. But something close. Pretty little Mia. And Dawn. And Melanie. They’re almost there. Almost feeling that way for you.”

Alice blinked. She could remember what it felt like. On her knees, gazing up in awe at Ms. Henderson. She’d never forget. Her mind spun. Her dolls would feel even more for her. More than that overwhelming devotion, that crying need to be owned, to obey. It was what Clara felt for Ms. Henderson, despite her surly attitude. Ms. Henderson must have told her to be like that, grumpy and rebellious. It was just another way for Clara to obey.

It must be what Nichole felt for her owner.

That thought was like a bucket of cold water on Alice.

“But your girls aren’t there yet,” Ms. Henderson continued not noticing Alice’s hesitation. They’re obeying you. I’ll admit, you’re good at getting them to obey. You were good with Clara too. But your girls aren’t dolls. Not yet. There’s a difference between just doing what they’re told and being a doll. Come, I’ll show you.”

Alice felt her awareness pulled out of her body. She was spiralling along a line of blue light. She could sense Ms. Henderson beside her, the woman’s presence so bright, a bright blue flame.

And then she was surrounded by lights. Millions of them. Alice knew where they were, inside Clara’s mind.

“Clara is such fun,” Ms. Henderson declared. The woman wasn’t really speaking. It was her thoughts. “She wasn’t like she is now when I first found her. She was a wilting little thing back then. But I didn’t think that would be terribly amusing. So I changed her. All that lovely sarky bitchiness, all the little rebellions, are things I made her to be. See?”

Alice found that hard to imagine but she could sense the changes that had been made in the brunette. She could sense lights that weren’t where they were supposed to be. But those lights were locked in place. Clara was whatever Ms. Henderson wanted her to be.

And Alice thought she did make a better rebellious doll than some simpering wallflower.

“But let’s go deeper,” Ms. Henderson said.

Alice wasn’t sure what that meant. She’d been here before, at least in the minds of the girl’s she was turning into dolls. Their thoughts could be altered, their personalities, their memories. She wasn’t sure what else there was, let alone how to get there.

She went to follow Ms. Henderson, the woman’s presence already moving away, but she couldn’t. Ms. Henderson was moving in some way she didn’t understand.

Ms. Henderson turned back, regarded her. Alice could almost sense a smile.

“Like this,” the woman said.

There was a light around Alice. It wasn’t blue, not the blue of a tropical ocean or of a summer sky. It wasn’t the green of fine jade. It was silver. It seemed to come from so far away.

Something so vast, so distant, that Alice couldn’t comprehend it. It wanted her, obedience? No, it wanted something else, love and devotion.

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn more about her,” Ms. Henderson observed enigmatically. “Now come along.”

Alice was somewhere else now. There were fewer lights here. But they were stronger. More fixed. They were deep in Clara’s mind. Deeper than Alice had ever been in anyone’s mind. Deeper than she’d thought it possible to go.

“This is Clara’s foundation.” Ms. Henderson’s voice was glowing. “What makes her what she is. This is where someone knows that they’re human, knows that they’re alive. All those basic, unquestionable, ideas. It’s harder to change things here, but once you do. Hmm. It’s the difference between someone believing that they should obey and obedience being a part of what they are. Between thinking they are a doll and being a doll. If you change something here it changes fundamental parts of them.” Ms. Henderson pointed to one of the lights. “Clara doesn’t just know that she’s a doll. She is a doll. I’m going to show you how to do that.”

Alice was staring at that light. She could sense the change that had been made, how the light was not what it once was. It’s changed state was part of Clara’s nature now.

“It’s not just her mind, either. As I said, Clara is a doll. And who wants a doll that gets old?”

Alice could barely take it in. “But, does that mean?” She wasn’t even really sure what she was asking.

“That they’ll outlive us?” Ms. Henderson answered. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. There are so many benefits to being an owner. She gives us that.”

“But,” Alice protested, backing away. She didn’t think Ms. Henderson was talking about Clara now.

“You don’t want to be a doll? Don’t be silly,” the older woman laughed. Alice wondered just how much older she really was. “Do you think I’m a doll? I am what I always was. Or least, always could be. Now, pay attention. This is what you do.”

Alice could feel the other woman reaching out, grasping one of the lights. It was almost the same as what she’d done, to the girls’ thoughts and memories. But not quite. This was different. Deeper. Larger.

“I don’t actually want to change Clara,” Ms. Henderson explained. “I’m rather fond of her as she is. But you can at least get a feel for it. When you get to one of your girls, I’ll guide you through it. Who will you do first? Melanie? Dawn? Perhaps sweet little Mia? She’d make such a clever doll. Are you going to let her keep her intelligence? Or perhaps not?”

Alice knew that the choice was hers. She could have Mia be her smart, slutty doll. Or her brainless bimbo doll. Mia would look so pretty, with empty eyes.

It was Alice’s choice.

Either way, Mia would feel what Alice had felt. That devotion, that need to be obey. To be owned.

She’d be feeling it for Alice.

Maybe it didn’t matter what she made Mia into, as long as Mia was her doll.

Even separated from her body as she was Alice could feel the heat, the driving need, radiating from her centre.

“Good enough,” Ms. Henderson declared after Alice had practiced gripping the lights that made up the basis of what Clara was. “Now I want to see you play with a real doll.”

Alice was back in her own body, the blonde blinking in surprise. “I did that already,” she protested.

“Still being a brat?” Ms. Henderson smiled. “I suppose that’s just you. I want to see you do it when I haven’t got you on a leash. And don’t worry about your family. They’re, …, otherwise occupied.”

Alice wasn’t sure whether she wanted to think about that. For a moment resentment bored through her. She didn’t want this woman making her family into toys. She thrust that thought down. She’d have to show Sandra how she did that, locked a few thoughts away where Ms. Henderson couldn’t reach them.

But that was for later.

Ms. Henderson was patting the top of Clara’s head again, silent resentment pouring from the brunette.

“So what do you want to do with her?” Ms. Henderson asked.

Alice considered for a moment. She could do anything.

But a doll was meant to be dressed up. And Clara’s current outfit was a ruin.

“You must have lots of outfits for her, right?” Alice asked. “I want to see her in those. And then when I find one I like she can eat me out again.”

“And maybe have Nichole join us,” Alice added after a moment.

The visit was looking like it was going to be more fun than she’d anticipated.

(To be Continued)