The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rage overtook the dancer and she charged Jenny. Somehow the girl had cheated and gained a second wind, but that didn’t matter. Breakrave still had over two human lifetimes of her passion for the dance driving her to physical perfection—before allowing her Anima to add anything. She trained extensively in breakdancing to build power and balance. When she met rave its fluid grace won her over. Blending the two styles she was unbeatable in a dance-off, or of course, a fight. Jenny had plenty of time to evade the charge, but when Breakrave followed up with a punch it connected.

Quickly, the dancer put both hands on the ground and held herself up to do a split in midair. Like an Olympic gymnast she swung her legs around and down underneath her, lifting her hands out of the way to continue spinning. Jenny knew she didn’t want to be on the ground before Breakrave...again. The way it made her feel...

She thought only one sweep was coming as she jumped back, but Breakrave was alarmingly fast. From her position on the ground Breakrave vaulted off her hands into a somersault to cover the distance and landed back on her hands without losing momentum. When the althletic, complex leg sweep hit it was a terrible surprise when the pain was her own. Breakrave’s fractured shin recoiled and she was forced to roll with the pain, clutching her leg to her chest.

“Mistress, remember that shield spell I was working on?” Kate was half sitting up with her fingers pointing at odd angles. It hurt to breathe, but she struggled to her feet.

Jenny had a good view of Breakrave’s backside the way she was writhing on the ground. While fighting she showed it off, but Jenny finally got to stand over it triumphantly. It was so perfectly rounded, she thought. Her hard work showed, and the reward was a plump bottom that was curvy enough to make any dress she wore about three to five inches shorter. She stared at it even more intently, wondering what it’d be like to pull those hips up to her fake cock and slam into her. Would it jiggle like a normal ass or would it stay picture perfect no matter how hard she spanked that ass and made her beg for more?

Breakrave felt herself being objectified. It was a sign she was weakening. Fantasies were cracking through into her mind. She became keenly aware of how good it would feel if this woman just took her right here and now. She’d been licking pussy all day. She needed a cock. It would fill her. And when it was done, she could wiggle that sexy ass of hers and get another one. She’d be filled all day long. Jennifer wasn’t a man so the intense fucking she’d get wouldn’t end with a load of cum, she’d pound her pussy all day long. She’d be helpless to stop her sweet ass from getting spanked, but all that cumming would be worth it. It would be a little degrading, but hours and hours of cock pounding would send waves of orgasms to wash all those silly thoughts right out of her.

Damn, that bitch was good. A lesser mind might have opened her cunt right there.

Breakrave got to her feet with a back handspring. It was time to go all out. She applied her Anima to three tasks. First, to mental defense and the fantasies were gone in an instant. Second, to fashion her signature weapon—the glowing strings with solid weights on the end. Third, to help animate her body. She was full of rage, suprise, incredulousness, indignation, and wrath. Rather than have them fight within her she changed her stance to the only form of dance she knew could express such power. The uncultured Americans wouldn’t get it but that wasn’t important.

She balanced on her big toe and took the stance of the glowing blue figure in the pentagon on the ground. With a graceful leap she landed on one toe in front of Jenny and she moved, but no attack came. She spun around once and extended a leg that caught Jenny by surprise. Everyone was expecting her spiraling ribbons to attack. Instead she bent at impossible angles and struck with whatever you’d think she couldn’t strike with from that position.

A ballerina was kicking her ass.

Kate tried to generate shields. She could only create them about the size of an appetizer plate for a second or two. She thought it useless, but figured if she created them between Jenny and a fist or a foot it would spare her a hit. Of course, she had to know where the strike would land. In this form, Breakrave was unreadable. Watching her aura made things worse—she saw the grey anger of storm clouds tainting the sky blue. The taint in her aura showed she had been cheated and was fighting the injustice with everything she had. It gave Kate pause—she wasn’t one to side with the wronged—but she had to protect Jenny.

During her constant spinning, Breakrave noticed Kate making odd gestures with her hands. Stopping those annoying shields would make things go faster. She didn’t hit at full power for fear of breaking herself again. (Confusing “anger” with “be wreckless” was what those young fools under 60 did.) Using more Anima, she extended her string to strike Kate. And so began the three-way dance.

Jenny and Kate battled the storm. With two string weapons Breakrave was able to attack and defend against both of them. Jenny charged in for simple brawling. Kate would create a shield to absorb a hit and Jenny would land a strike. Kate tried to dodge the strings but had no idea where to run against a dance style that was half-ballet, half-rave, and all tornado. Jenny would strike and give Kate a reprieve, but Kate was a mere mortal. Eventually, Kate’s stamina ran out and one lash against her naked body knocked her down. Without the shields stopping the hits, Jenny was defenseless.

Breakrave struck Jenny down with her full power. When Jenny was on the ground, she whipped her for fun.

“You saucy wench.” Whip. “Did you really think you would win?” Crack. It was still draining her Anima but it was damn therapeutic. Several whips to the back had Jenny arching on the ground. It was her turn to fantasize about what men would do to her if they got their hands on her now. Each landing of the whip drained their power a little more—Breakrave was burning Anima but Jenny was burning more to heal. As she spoke she whipped a new part of Jenny just to watch her writhe.

“I’ve trained in ballet since I was four. I was one of the first graduates at Julliard. Swing. The Twist. I showed Elvis bloody Presley how to move his hips. Disco. Breakdance. Every bloody decade I dedicated myself to my passion. Perfected my body. My movements.”

Halfway through the speech Jenny stopped moving when whipped. Breakrave just stood over her.

“What do you have, huh? What kind of fight experience did YOU come in here with?”

“Street hockey.”

“What?”

Jenny sprang to her feet and yanked Breakrave’s top over her head. With a practiced twist she squeezed the top shut making sure her head and arms were trapped. Breakrave wasted a second on the natural reaction to wiggle out and that was all Jenny needed to slam her knee into that perfectly flat stomach of hers. The blow lifted her feet off the ground and extinguished her strings. With one hand holding the shirt it was easy to pull her face into the next punch once her feet got back to the ground. Jenny repeated these moves a few more times and finally tackled her opponent. She wriggled out of the shirt but it was too late. Jenny had her fully mounted and rained punches down on her face. The face kept repairing itself, but this took more and more effort. Her struggles grew weaker as did Jenny’s rush. As Jenny’s rush subsided she became more and more aware of the perfect rack bare and jiggling before her.

Jenny licked her lips in anticipation. The dancer was dazed and could only struggle weakly under the heat of Jenny’s thighs. Jenny put one hand on each of her breasts and pushed herself up to move both of her legs between the fallen girl’s. Breakrave was barely aware of anything other than soft, sensual, silken flesh gliding against her own sensitive thighs. Her legs parted under the weight, and the flimsy skirt she wore did nothing to stop them from spreading further as her conqueror pushed them further out.

Jenny glided her hands across the girl’s tits, caressing each nipple with different fingers. Her victim gasped at the touch but that only pushed her chest further into her assailant’s hands. Jenny marveled at how her breasts were about quality, not quantity. A tight tank top or sports bra would hold them close as she jumped around. “They were a handful but shaped to artistic perfection,”

Jenny thought as she pulled, twisted, and licked all the key spots she knew about from having tits of her own. A wanton moan slipped out of the girl that had been so properly poised moments ago. Jenny entrusted both breasts to one hand to confirm that Breakrave’s blue thong was soaked.

Breakrave felt as if she were asleep and an erotic dream had thrust itself between her and wakefulness. A phantom lover was taking charge of her tits while she lay there passively enjoying it. The fingers knew when to move aside and let the tongue bring the pleasure even higher. She couldn’t see anything, only wait and hope that tongue would show up on her body again somewhere. Left tit. Neck. Earlobe. Right tit. Everywhere her fingers touched she hoped the tongue would return.

When Jenny finally slid her finger past the thong panties, Breakrave moaned and arched her back almost as far as a normal person could bend forward. She calmed down after a few seconds and Jenny watched as the orgasmic shakes caused her tits to wiggle enticingly. When she inserted the second finger she was treated to another topless arching show. Jenny curled her fingers against soft tissue and was treated to another erotic dancing show just for her. She was breathing heavily from the stimulation but rolling her hips to beg for more. As Jenny sent her new powers out through her fingers, another idea seemed to come naturally to her.

Breakrave was being filled with new ideas about what her pussy was for. She knew it was for fucking, but what did that mean exactly? It meant that things go inside it. Things were supposed to go in her pussy. How did they get in? Her pussy got wet. Then things could go in. Things like these wonderful fingers. They made her dance on her back. It felt so good to entertain like that. Her pussy wet them extra just to make sure they stayed in and made her entertain. They didn’t fill her whole pussy, though. They had to move around to touch all the sensitive spots inside. Her pussy needed to get wet and let something big inside. Something like a cock. A big cock. It would fill her good. Make her move. Make her shake what she had to entertain...who? Entertain everyone, she guessed. Whoever had that huge cock pounding into her would be watching. Others might be watching too. They’d see her titties bouncing up and down and her hot little ass shaking as her pussy got what it was built for. Her pussy was for getting wet. Then a huge cock could go in and everyone would be entertained. Wait. That doesn’t sound right.

Jenny finished the adjustments to Breakrave’s pussy. She remembered how she failed the first time she tried to create a toy inside her opponent. This time she created the large, studded, vibrating cock on her own pelvis. It was thick and hard, but not too long. As a woman, she knew anything over seven inches was wasted material. Just to be vengeful, she picked up Breakrave’s right leg and pushed her ankle next to her ear. The movement left the tip of her cock right near the dazed girl’s dripping pussy. It was still slightly open from the intense finger bang she’d delivered and the wispy blue panties sat helplessly aside.

Breakrave became fully alert as the sensations in her body tackled her like a dog that had been waiting for its master all day. She felt exhausted from the tremendous effort of putting her body back together repeatedly in five minutes. She felt her tits and pussy continuing to send waves of pleasure that would make her swoon had she still been standing.

Seeing her own ankle in her periphrial vision and a firey, dominating redhead leering over her made her feel stretched, open, and vulnerable. She tried to push Jenny away by forcing her leg down against the girl’s weight, but Jenny grabbed the girl’s biceps and held herself in place. At full power or even half power she could have done it, but now she just felt weak. The extra wiggling brought the tip of Jenny’s new cock to Breakrave’s clit. She felt desperate.

As the cock slid in, she used the last reserves of her mind to try to take control. It would be difficult, but if she could make Jenny feel like the one sexually serving her...

“F...fuck me,” said Breakrave. “Fuck your slu—aaah!” One of Kate’s shields popped into her mouth.

“Don’t talk to her, fuck her good!” The use of breath hurt Kate, but she made her point.

The unfairness of it all left Breakrave fuming inside. Kate should have been a mindless thrall by now. Instead she’d had the werewithall to cast a spell and ruin her last chance.

Breakrave clung to the thought that she could talk her way out of this, but that cock sliding into her was large and in charge. She lost control as it went in. Her eyes bulged, her head was thrown back with a loud gasp, and her body seized. It stretched her without causing pain to subtract from the pleasure. Her cunt was warming up for a dance with a partner that would sweep her off her feet. As it slid in, each tiny bump along the rigid surface massaged her G-spot as it passed. Each one sent a jolt of pleasure through her whole body and seemed to raise its sexual sensitivity. She was still trying to push Jenny off but her muscles were too distracted, never mind having no leverage in the first place. She wasn’t doing anything while that cock was in her. It began to slide out, and again each bump massaged the most sensitive parts of her insides almost lovingly. Jenny drew the shaft out so slowly, it felt a mile long.

Breakrave knew her pussy was changed. It was such a small change she didn’t even notice it or stop it. The inside of her pussy had more G-spots. The bumps on the cock seemed to match them perfectly. Her pussy was made for cock. This cock. Normally a cock passes the G-spot against the front wall and creates an initial burst of pleasure followed by a short break before the next thrust. This time the burst of pleasure was followed by another, and another, and another. And this happened going in and out. She had to get away, but all she could do was squirm as the pleasure took her over.

Any male with his cock so tightly wrapped in warm velvet and his eyes on the wet dream that was Breakrave’s visage would have lost control by now and started pumping furiously. Jenny, however, was not male. Her makeshift cock brought her no sensation (she didn’t yet realize she could make it so); thus, she was able to restrain herself and pump slowly, causing excruciating pleasure. She would thrust in a centimeter at a time and watch the squirms, subdued by her weight. When the bliss subsided she’d thrust another centimeter just as the poor girl almost got her head clear. Three minutes and three, full, in-and-out thrusts later Breakrave was biting her lower lip to stop herself from begging to be pounded hard and fast. She was trying to form protest words, but her juices left the cock so slick Jenny could barely stop it from sliding in a full inch at a time.

In the moments of lucidity she was allowed, Breakrave tried to form words. When she said “Please,” Jenny drove her studded toy all the way in until the makeshift ball sac rested on her ass. It knocked the sentence out of her.

“Please what? Fuck you? You wanna be my bitch?” said Jenny. She pulled out two inches. She meant to do one, but it was very slippery now. When she tried to form the word “no,” Jenny leaned down and put two fingers in her mouth. The effort drove the cock all the way back in. Breakrave felt the weight of Jenny’s enormous chest on her own. The soft pillows were too heavy for her. There seemed to be no more room in her mind for sexual thrills, but the rush of having this beautiful rack held against her body shoved itself in.

“I’m going to leave a cock gag in your mouth if the next words out of it aren’t ‘fuck me back to the kitchen, you dominant stud.’”

A chance! If she could use her voice to drive the novice out of her mind with lust the control might reverse. Jenny started pulling that glorious cock out of her.

“F-F-Fuck...meeeee...”

She was breathing too heavy and shaking too hard. Mistress gave her another chance. A chance to avoid being double stuffed. She tried again, but couldn’t get past the second word while that cock was working its magic on her.

“What? Try again.”

She had to say it. In her mind, she formed the thought and earnestly tried to say ‘fuck me back to the kitchen, you dominant stud.’ She was certainly getting dominated. Her legs were as wide open as possible and the stronger, heavier stud was rogering her so stupid, she’d go to the kitchen or anywhere else (s)he wanted. Why couldn’t she say ‘fuck me back to the kitchen, you dominant stud’? If she didn’t, there’d be a cock in her mouth too. Maybe she wasn’t saying it because she wanted the cock in her mouth. Her pussy was wet and had something big inside it. That’s what it was for. Her mouth was always wet. It had to get stuffed too.

She must have failed too many times anyway, because she felt something round and hard sliding past her lips. It passed over her soft tongue and kept going. It was uncomfortable but she controlled her gag reflex and let her mouth get filled like it was supposed to. She swallowed the tip, but it backed out again. It poked back in and she had to keep working her throat muscles. She felt another scrotum bouncing on her chin. It was humiliating, but her mouth and cunt were stuffed. The pleasure from the fucking down there became associated with humiliation. This is what it felt like to be her bitch. Almost as if her Mistress was proud of her for finally learning something, she was rewarded with a hard and fast pounding from that amazing cock.

She came. The orgasm shook her with enough force to dislodge the toy from her pussy. Every major erogenous zone in her body flooded her mind with reports of ultimate pleasure and her poor mind was drowning in the deluge. She would never know how long she shook and trembled, only that it was far longer than she ever had before. The intensity of the muscle twitches was exhausting her, tossing gallons of power out of her body by the second, but she didn’t want it to end. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was too lost in pleasure not to be alarmed when she saw white instead of black. She had whited out.

Kate brought herself around to watch their eyes. Jenny’s glowed a bright crimson. Breakrave’s glowed white. The Kinkai barrier vanished. In the stunned silence the entourage took mincing steps towards their fallen leader. The iron door swung shut, blocking the music once more.

Unanimous awkward silence followed. Fifteen men eager for the spoils of war meandered around confused and aroused. Four of them ran away with a cursory “oh shit.” Either they were scared of being caught with a body on the ground or they’d be in big trouble if it happened again. Kate scrambled for her clothes and tried to get them back on as fast as she had shed them. Jenny stood over her Thrall amazed, relieved, and becoming hornier by the minute. The toy she had left in the slave’s mouth was still softly pumping away, breaking the silence and showcasing the pleasure a slave’s mouth had to offer. Only Ed seemed to have a plan. He stood at his Mistress’ right.

Carolyn Adela Durrant felt like she was waking up, but knew better. The orgasm had overwhelmed her conscious mind that much. Just looking at Mistress made her feel like this afterglow would never end. She was in love with Mistress. She would do anything for her attention or approval, but most of all craved to be used by her. If she pleased Mistress, Mistress would touch her again. Mistress left a toy cock in her mouth. Eager to please, she tried to sit up, but aftershocks from her orgasm slowed her down. Finally on her knees, she put her hands on her thighs so her arms squeezed her boobs together. She submissively looked up at Mistress, using her eyes to beg for approval while showing off her thighs, tits, and face. If she could convince Mistress how good her cock would feel in her mouth, she might get used again tonight. Warm juices rushed to her pussy to get it ready, just in case.

Mistress waved her hand and the cock disappeared. Carolyn wiped the drool off her face with the back of her hand and continued staring at Mistress with wide eyes. Mistress didn’t want her sucking cock right now so she waited for instructions. She moved her knees further apart because her mini skirt was too short to cover her thighs when she did that. She hoped it would affect the instructions she would get. She was disappointed in only being told to stand, but she did as told.

“What’s going on here?”

“M...Mistress does not know?”

“I want my slave to learn her place by saying what happened out loud.”

“Yes, of course, Mistress. Though I do not understand much of what happened myself.” Carolyn was looking at the ground, a small part of an ensemble of body language that suggested her confidence and poise were no longer present.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mistress entered Breakrave’s Haven and began poaching followers. When Breakrave felt the—”

“Who is Breakrave?”

It pained her to say so, but since it pleased Mistress, there was no denying it. “She WAS me. Breakrave was my Battle Name, but no longer. Mistress has taken that and all that was Breakrave from me.” Carolyn was trying not to cry. She was Mistress’ plaything for the rest of her life, but all that was important to Carolyn Adela Durrant was still there. Her life of perfecting dance, appreciation of art, the success of Prima and the other nightclubs she owned were things she’d miss as a sex slave. She worked the sorrow into her submissive pose. Mistress seemed to be enjoying it.

“Then what’s your name?”

“As you call me, Mistress.” Mistress seemed displeased.

“Your given name. Your momma didn’t name you Breakrave.”

“Carolyn Adela Durrant, born 1842 in London.”

“Well, I think I’ll call you Brokeslave. Do you like it?”

“Irrelevant. My name is what Mistress calls me.”

“HA! Well then, I want you to say ‘My new name is Brokeslave and I—’”

An angered Kate cut in. “What the hell just happened? Why did you attack Jenny? Whaddya mean ‘poaching?’ What was—”

Brokeslave had no idea how the goth girl absorbed enough orgasmic energy to enslave three Battle Hookers and still be able to interrupt Mistress like that. It wasn’t the first time tonight she’d seen these two break the rules.

“Easy, Kate,” said Jenny. “We’ll both get time with the toy.” She faced Brokeslave. “I do want to know why you attacked.”

Mistress was cruel. She had to choose her words carefully. “Mistress was correct. You did have the power to walk right into my Haven and Poach one of my Followers as your own. His loyalty to me was no match for your power and beauty. Poaching is an act of war, so Mistress must have known I would call for a Kinkai. Then Mistress used her knowledge beyond my understanding to change the rules of Kinkai. I fell right into the trap. Then Mistress was free to teach this lowly slave what her wet holes are really for.”

“And what are they for?”

“They are for Mistress to use as she sees fit, but mostly for filling. Filled with fingers, tongues, and especially Mistress’ gigantic cock. Brokeslave is getting wet just thinking about how you broke her on it.”

“Little slut, you just got the fuck of your life and you’re already twitching for more?”

“Yes, Mistress. Forevermore, I am as you wish.”

“Fine. Go dance your sexy ass over to your friends over there. Tell them what a wet slut you are and how bad you need cock. Then tell them anything else they want to hear.”

Jenny turned her around by the shoulders and slapped her ass to move her forward. She didn’t know why everyone that came around her kept calling her ‘Mistress’ but she was loving it. Her fantasies of strapping on a hard cock and driving women to ecstasy in ways no man could were all coming true. She’d have to thank Kate for putting that in the spell, however she did it. Thank God for Kate and her being able to draw a pentagram and other things—Jennifer flunked geometry.

“MISTRESS, NO! PLEASE! THEY WERE MY FOLLOWERS!” That was a weird thing to scream while swaying over to them.

“Look, bitch, you’re the one that said something about ‘fighting until you’re too weak to stop 15 men from rogering your arse’ or something. Now sway that sexy ass over there and get your bum ready for some...rogering.”

Already topless, it didn’t take long for the men to surround her and start stripping. They cheered for their savior and went right into the ribald comments. Brokeslave put her palms together over her head and began belly dancing. Hands were all over her. One lucky man beat out the rush and got right behind her to grind her ass and hold her tits from behind. Other fingers went between her legs and knocked the annoying blue underwear aside. Someone ripped them off, finally. She wanted to tell them to stop but all she could do was entice them with her erotic sway. Her dance faltered as the fingers in her soaked pussy found the new G-spots. It was time to say her lines.

“I’m a wet slut and I need cock bad.” She grinded her ass on the cock behind her and felt the back of her mini skirt get warm and wet. She couldn’t move the cum anymore. Master wanted it there and it would stay there. She knew his eyes were glowing black. Now his desires could shape her. In response, she could only meekly follow the rest of Mistress’ instructions as voices came from the crowd.

Not the boss anymore, are you, slut! “No, I’m not the boss. I serve you now.”

You wanted us all this time, huh. “Yes, aagh...I acted high and mighty but I needed cocks.”

She had a small orgasm that left her knees too weak to dance. She fell to them and was face to face with the man that brought her down. She looked into his black eyes and saw that he was her new Master.

Feels good to be on your knees where you belong, doesn’t it, bitch? “My rightful place is here where my slave mouth can get filled with cocks.”

In a very short time, three men dropped loads in her mouth. Either she had to obey because Mistress told her to or because she no longer had control of her Anima to protect her mind or body from the men’s willpower. She was completely helpless, and all she could do was encourage them. The orgasms were getting stronger. Ropes of white decorated her hair and face. She screamed and fell forward onto her hands when the fingers went into her ass. It made her cum again.

The sex show made Jenny horny immediately. The old ways just wouldn’t do anymore...she knew what she was and what she needed. Without ceremony, she pulled Kate’s dress and undies down and bent her over. The girl protested and said something about “finding out more” but there was time for that crap after orgasms. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought there ought to be some shame in this, but Kate just bent over with a ‘Yes, Mistress’ and took that cock doggie style so they could both watch the show. Kate usually had everything together and planned out, so if she was okay with it, there was nothing wrong.

They watched Brokeslave take it from both ends at the same time. Jenny leaned down to nibble on Kate’s ear. “See how she’s wincing when he thrusts in? That’s an ass fuck. She just rolls her eyes back and gasps when you fuck her pussy. Oh, wait, he’s back in the pussy.” They painted her with cum. Passed her around. They laughed while she tried to dance for them on quivering, exhausted legs.

Kate was bothered by her inability to resist Jenny’s commands. That lasted until the cock went in and drove her passion to a fever pitch. The dirty talk only fanned her flames. As if the two weren’t enough, she actually loved Jenny. She thought to stop Watching but the pleasure was seconds away from melting that concentration anyway. Just before it faded into bliss, she noticed something wrong. It was hard to see at night, but it looked like black, spear-shaped clouds were stabbing her. “Je—oooooh! Jenny...something’s...wrong...with the...slaveeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Looking closer, Jenny did see something other than sex. Brokeslave’s tits were expanding to bigger then her own. Tattoos and piercings were appearing and vanishing from her body, practically with every new dick that entered her. She was cumming hard just from dicks entering her ass—Jenny hadn’t do anything there and she hadn’t made the sensitivity on her vag that strong. The pleasure left her unable to form the sentences she was supposed to be saying in there. She was eagerly wrapping her tits around a cocks and massaging them up and down until they sprayed all over her face.

However, that wasn’t what mammaries were for. Curiosity got the best of Jenny. She pulled out to ask the Witch what was going on.

Kate rolled onto her back and showed a beatific smile and glassy eyes. “Mistress...fuck me, Mistress.”

“That’s not funny, Kate. What did you see?”

“Saw...black. Auras. Please. Fuck me. Command me.”

The spaced-out, mindless talk was creepy. At least Brokeslave could make sentences.

“Kate. Kate! Answer me!”

“Yes. Use me.”

Jenny shook her friend by the shoulders and got more of the same. Panic took her and she kept screaming, but got more drone words, one syllable at a time. The lights were on, but Kate wasn’t home. She called to Breakslave, but the eleven wouldn’t let her go and her voice didn’t make it through the moans.

“Too much,” Ed offered. Holy shit, he was standing there the whole time.

“What do you mean, too much?! Too much what!? It was just sex dammit!”

“Boss does it to us, once. A week. Wears off. How much did she get tonight?”

First, Breakrave got her lips on her. Then she saved her in the fight. Now this. Dear God, the stimulation fried her brain. SHE fried Kate’s brain.

“No...no...no no no NONONONO!” She clutched Kate close and cried over her face. Her new urges and instincts ran in terror as the weight of what she had done filled her mind. It was hugging back, smiling eerily. “Come back!” She sobbed.

“I am...here...Mistress. Use me.”

“DAMMIT!” Jenny desperately grasped the back of Kate’s head and held her face close to hers. Sobbing for breath, she managed to yell. “KATE, THIS IS YOUR MISTRESS! I ORDER YOUR MIND TO COME BACK TO ME! DO YOU HEAR ME? KATHARIN MARIE ABRAMS, I ORDER YOU TO COME BACK TO ME!” Out of ideas, she held her friend against the tears on her cheek.

Katharin had found a sea of pleasure and sailed forth. Life was so complicated and confusing and wrought with so much to worry about. Here on this ocean she was free. Everything was taken care of. She was free to hang up life like a sack that was digging into her hands. Just before land was out of sight for good, however, someone called her Name. Everyone called her Kate, but her full Name was what her soul responded to. The words and sound rushed from the land, brushing water aside and holding it in place to reveal the dry land underneath. It pushed aside the water under her boat and left her staring eye level at Jenny. She was screaming for her. She walked back in an instant.

“Jenjen?”

“Omigod you’re back!” Jenny closed her eyes and kissed Kate as if it was for the last time. The magick surrounding Jenny was still too scared to do anything. They embraced until a loud sniffle piqued their curiosity.

Kate looked up at Ed and could have sworn she saw his arms moving away from his face and back to their scary, folded position. “Ed,” she said, her eyes on th emen surrounding Brokeslave, “you have to get her out of there.”

Ed looked at Jenny.

Jenny was so grateful that her friend was back she granted the request without thought. She expected to hear a ‘Yes, Mistresss,’ but the behemoth said nothing as he rushed over and began shoving naked people aside. She guessed he didn’t talk about his feelings much.

Ed was greeted by cheers and predictions of what his cock would do to the very used vagina—until he shoved aside the man Breakslave was sucking on. lifted her off the two cocks she was riding and hefted her over one shoulder. She was covered in cum from her cyber locks to her toes but Ed did not slow down or try to avoid touching any of it. Either he was a duty-driven stoic by nature or commanded by his Mistress...or both. The crowd protested and some followed Ed halfway back to Jenny while shouting objections. The back of Ed’s free hand answered them. The remaining ten wished to remain conscious, at least until they got their clothes back on, so they reminded themselves why Ed worked there and counted their blessings.

Each one of them had put about three blessings on Brokeslave. She was still shaking and her chest was enormous. It wiggled as she quaked. Tattoos lined her forearms and neck and she most likely had a tramp stamp. Her erotic moans were turning into babbles.

Jenny and Kate stared in horror at what had come to pass. Kate was feeling empathy for a fellow female while Jenny was staring at the fate she narrowly avoided...and getting a little turned on.

“Give her back, Jenny.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t fully understand what’s going on here, but she does. Or did. She’s in some kind of blank-slate, sexual servitude mode. Somehow, those guys had the power to change her body to what they wanted. It’s killing her mind and her body may follow. You have to give her back.”

“Oh. Kaaaaaay. How?”

“The same way you gave me back, JEN-NY. Not ‘Mistress,’ Jenny. Call her back by her full Name.”

“That’s it? How do we know her full name?”

“She told us. It was probably her true Name because she considered herself your slave when she gave it. Names have magickal power and I think that power is part of how all this works. She said she had a Battle Name that you took. So, call her by her Name then give her Battle Name back.”

“What was her name again?”

“Ditzy Redhead,” said Kate, receiving a light smack on her arm from Jenny. “Carolyn Adela Durrant. Remember, put some will into it. You have to really, really want it to happen. All of these people, and Ed once served her here. She’s been living her dream of perfecting new dances decade-by-decade in a young and spry body. Think of how you don’t really want her reduced to this. And think of how happy it’ll make me. And put your damn dick away.”

“What? Oh.” With a fly-zipping motion she erased the phallus from existence. Then she turned to Brokeslave. “Carolyn Adela Durrant! This is your Mistress! I order you to come back and take back your Battle Name Breakrave.

You can have it back, I don’t want it anymore.”

Eyes the blue of a summer lake overcame the heavy semen covering them and fluttered open. Blue energy washed over her for a few seconds. It looked like she was under a blanket made of river. Her tattoos vanished and her chest shrank down to a practical size.

She sat up and looked around quickly, genuinely surprised to be alive. Her subordinates were dressing. Ed, for some strange reason, had spooge all over his left shoulder. Kate had her shirt on but no dress, and Jennifer was still naked but dickless.

Jennifer. Searching through her mind she found no desire to call Jennifer ‘Mistress.’ She hadn’t been given partial freedom on a short leash or even a long leash. She had been given full freedom. Praise the gods, she thought, after all the things that had happened tonight that had never happened in thousands of years (if at all), one of them was actually good. The best. She’d been given back. Her eyes watered.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” She launched to her feet and hugged Jennifer with the strength of five Eds. Jennifer lacked the guts of one Ed and tried to wiggle out of the semeny embrace. Then the kisses came. She might as well have been a five-year-old trying to hold back a Saint Bernard. A Saint Bernard’s kisses would have involved less fluid. She kissed Jennifer’s feet and the ground she walked on. It continued until Jennifer ordered Ed to grab her until she got ahold of herself.

“Jennifer, you have no idea how much this means to me. There isn’t a recorded case of a Battle Hooker being fully restored in our history. It’s simply not done! We didn’t even think it could be done! Why, this—” She stopped and looked around, realizing what was on her, Ed, and Jenny. “Excuse me a moment,” she said.

She began making pointing and pulling motions at the semen on Ed’s shirt, Jenny’s everywhere, and herself. The droplets danced in the air for a moment before Breakrave set them on the ground in an organized manner. She pointed to a section on her inner thigh and a large patch of the stuff floated in front of her and separated into groups. It looked like she was controlling a futuristic touch screen device that let you drag windows around with your fingertips. The woman was sorting sperm.

“Jack, Fred, John, Rick...dammit Rick, Larry, Pablo, Jack again, Moshe...gods, even the accountant shagged me, another Pablo...” When it looked like everything was off of everyone, she pointed at her stomach and drew her finger up to her throat. More semen and only semen came out. It was the same for her anus and vagina. Kate turned away. She went right on with the sorting.

When it was done, she let out an annoyed “bollocks” and sighed. She bent the fingers on both hands and put them against her side. She made a ripping motion in the air and screwed up her face in pain but didn’t yell. She was fine almost immediately, like a fighter after enduring the bone-crunching snap of setting his own broken nose.

“I’m firing Jack,” she said flatly. “And thank you, Ed, for not being here. All right, time to get dressed.”

Blue light covered her body, then faded, leaving her in running shoes, a baggy orange T-shirt and loose fitting jeans. She extended her arm and pins flew to her hand in a magnetic fashion. With her other hand, she lifted the complicated network of cyber-locks and weaves off of her blue hair. What was most remarkable was when she peeled the makeup off her face. It remained in the shape of her face and hung in her hands like a latex mask. She was still as strikingly attractive

as before except now she was a strikingly attractive girl next door.

She turned to the eleven men who were mostly dressed. “Back ta work ya sorry sods!” She said with the accent of an old, British witch. “The amusement park is closed for t’night.” Enthralled or not, they still answered to Breakrave on the job, and the bitch was back. They scattered back into the club. “You should probably cover up too,” she said to Jenny in her calm, American voice.

“We can make normal clothes?”

Breakrave blanched. She did remember the questions she had to answer as a Thrall.

“How long have you been a Battle Hooker?”

“Umm...what time is it now?” Jenny smiled sheepishly.

“Are you bloody serious? Did you find another creation rite burial site? There’s no way you could have found one and gotten back here so quickly.”

“We found it on the Internet. I cast the spell on Jenny last night,” said Kate.

There was no color left to leave Breakrave’s face. The Battle Hooker creation rites were heavily guarded for a reason. There was an even better reason for keeping the Battle Hooker population under control. If the Pander hadn’t approved of Jenny’s creation, she was in big trouble. It wasn’t too late for an introduction. To return the great favor, she could save Jenny’s life this night.

“Jennifer, please let me repay you for giving me my life back. You’re not just a hotter version of yourself. You’ve become part of a complex world of intrigue and culture. And sex. Lots and lots of sex. If you would let me, I can teach you what you are and how to use your powers.”

Jenny remembered what ignorance had nearly cost her this evening. “I’d like that, Carolyn.”

“Right then. Step inside ladies. I’ll tell you everything.”

END EPISODE 1: THE EXOTIC DANCER

DVD EXTRA!

Breakrave is sitting in her office with a neat stack of papers. We hear the ping of an instant message and her blue, untied hair perks up to look at the monitor. She clicks the link and we hear a very lively, bubblegum techno tune introduce a song. Breakrave tries to work to it but within seconds her head is nodding back and forth to the silly beat.

Finally, she looks up at the video. Other electronic instruments have joined in and the beat really has her going now. By the first refrain, the happiness of the beat has infected Breakrave and she stands up so quickly her chair is sent about three feet behind her.

The dance is so idiotically stupid and simple that the fun in it is unavoidable. It was a simple moving of the hips left and right in time with the beat. The silly part was putting your hands on your head to immiatate cat ears and waving your hands forward with the beat as well. She was lost in happy music for the next minute.

The door opened. “Miss Durrant, I have the quarterly financials for—”

“Shit!”

Breakrave tried to fall back into her chair and act like she wasn’t caught up in that immature Caramelldansen thing that’s all over YouTube. Since the chair was three feet back, she fell on her bottom and was unable to reach the mouse in time. The accountant stared awkwardly while the video played that ironically cheerful tune.

Still frantically reaching for some dignity, Breakrave found a cylinder of writing implements and heaved it at the door.

“Learn ta bloody knock!” The accountant used the door as a shield and smiled as the pens and pencils scattered.

“I’ll come back later,” the man smirked in a way that suggested everyone at the water cooler was going to hear about this.

Breakrave finally turns off the music and puffs out an angry sigh that makes her bangs flap a little in the mini-breeze. (She’s cute when she’s angry.)