Chapter 9: Redeployment
There was no noise but the faint static of her radio earpiece. Slave Sarah felt the excited tingling in her pussy she got from obeying. She had gotten used to it and could more easily bear it now, but it was still almost as strong as when she’d enslaved Sophie. She loved that it was.
She had her back pressed against the fence, her black Syndicate combat suit stretching over her skin tightly. She waited.
Inside of the house, the lights turned on. Slave Sarah glanced over to the other end of the expansive back yard, where slave Kate surveyed the house, stun gun ready. She was almost invisible in the shadows the moon cast on her. She watched some movement through a window on the far side of the house slave Sarah couldn’t see.
She raised her left hand to signal confirmed target. A warm shiver went through slave Sarah’s loins. Slave Kate stepped out of the shadow. Her red hair glistened faintly in the moonlight where condensation had settled on it. Her tall, lithe figure made slave Sarah hungry for sex. For a moment, she forgot about the target, watching slave Kate, all the while making sure her own side of the lawn was clear. She waited.
She looked the other way and saw slave Lilly slowly and methodically closing in from the north side. When Slave Lilly stopped underneath a window and nodded, slave Sarah was done waiting and moved in herself.
She opened the radio channel.
”Slave Sophie. We’re in position.”
“Roger. Three on the inside. Madame secretary Ogilvy, her daughter and one secret service, small arms. Have fun. Take pictures.”
Slave Sarah quietly took position next to slave Lilly.
“Ready?” she whispered.
In response, slave Sarah kissed her. When they broke apart, she nodded.
“Zulu ready,” she said over the radio.
“Yankee ready,” said Kate near the back door.
Quietly and in unison, they opened the doors. They had keys.
A woman lay face down on the kitchen floor. The injector dart was still sticking from her neck where it had hit her. Her gun had dropped and lay on the hardwood floor next to her. Slave Sarah picked it up.
Slave Lilly and Kate were holding secretary Sandra Ogilvy and her daughter Elara at gunpoint. Both were smart enough not to scream.
Slave Sarah sized up the women. They both wore elegant and formal clothing. They had just returned from an inauguration dinner in Ogilvy’s honor. Ogilvy, slim face, blonde hair, off-white dress, was very young for her office, maybe forty, and her daughter had just started college. The daughter wore a navy blue off-the-shoulder dress. She had her mother’s eyes, but her hair was chestnut brown. She was cute, with a stubby nose and big round eyes.
From the way they held themselves, they both looked like they would be the most intelligent people in most rooms they chose to enter. They both showed almost no fear, or at least the secretary didn’t. Elara was clearly putting on a brave face.
“There’s no need to hurt us. We can talk about this and I’m sure you’ll get what you want.” said secretary Ogilvy calmly, her controlled timbre the result of years of practice as a politician. There was only the slightest trace of agitation in her voice.
“Don’t worry,” said slave Lilly. “We won’t hurt you. And yes, we will get what we want. Sit down.”
She gestured towards a big ottoman. Both Sandra and her daughter reluctantly followed and sat down next to each other. Sandra put her hand on Elara’s arm. Elara’s eyes were cold, and not calm at all.
“So… may I ask you what it is that you want from us.”
“Right now, I just want you to be quiet. Don’t get your hopes up, though. We disabled your alarms. No one is coming.”
Ogilvy betrayed no emotion.
“Why are you—“
”Shh!” hissed slave Lilly, raising her gun to make a point. Ogilvy got it.
They sat in awkward silence until the secret service agent woke.
They saw her twitch, then heard her gasp and moan. She turned herself on her back, looking up at the slaves around her. Her face turned from confusion into bright joy.
“Oh my God! …What …What?!”, she said in breathless surprise.
The agent was young, pretty, and fit, with a short, stylish haircut. Slave Sarah extended a hand. She took it and slave Sarah pulled her up to her feet and into a kiss.
“You obey Mistress Florence Moreau. You are a slave, as are we.”, said slave Sarah in enjoyment.
“…Holy shit! You’re right,” she marvelled. Her eyes went wide, as did her smile, as she understood.
“We disabled the in-house security. Any measures we might have overlooked?”
”No. Just me,” she smiled. She noticed Sandra and Elara Ogilvy.
Sandra Ogilvy had lost her poker face. She was still quiet, because slave Lilly was still pointing a gun at her, but her façade had cracked. Elara wasn’t faring much better. Both of them looked at the scene unfolding in absolute shock and disbelief.
Slave Sarah spoke to them.
”I need you to understand the following before we proceed. There is an underground organisation called the Syndicate, headed by Florence Moreau. We have the technology to brainwash people into obedient slaves. You’ve just seen it happen. What is your name, slave?”
“Slave Robin,” said the agent, gleefully taking in the horror of Sandra and Elara Ogilvy. Slave Sarah handed her her gun back. She held it in her hand for a moment, looking at Sandra and Elara, then holstered it with a wink.
“Now that you understand… slave Kate. Which one do we do first?”
”Are you kidding me? Obviously the daughter first!” said slave Kate with a laugh.
“Wait, what?” “No!” shouted both Sandra and Elara Ogilvy in a duet of panicked protest . “Don’t do this!” “Please!” “Stop!”
“Go ahead, slave Kate,” said slave Sarah.
“No!”, shouted Ogilvy.
It happened in a second. Slave Kate raised her dart gun and aimed. She fired. Ogilvy threw herself in front of her daughter and the dart hit her in the chest. She stumbled, gasped.
She collapsed onto her knees, drawing rasping breaths, screaming. It drew on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Then, finally, her screams turned into slurred moans, and she fell over onto her back, face screwed up in pain but to weak now to move.
Elara had gotten to the floor and now knelt next to her mother. Lilly had let her.
“Mom! Mom! MOM!” she cried.
“…love …you.” Sandra croaked, before her eyes rolled back into her head and she was still.
“Nooo!” cried Elara. Her scream was ear-shattering. She sprang up, and charged at slave Lilly. Slave Lilly stepped back, managing to get the gun out of Elara’s reach, but too late to dodge the blow. Elara punched her in the face with a dull thud, her face a grimace of rage and despair. She swung again, but slave Lilly had stepped back and she missed. It brought her off balance, and she stumbled in her high-heeled shoes.
She regained her balance, looking around, angry and wild. Everyone had stepped back. For a moment, she looked confused and indecisive, like she hadn’t thought this far, which she probably hadn’t.
There was a percussive noise and Elara yelped. Her eyes went wide for a second, then her legs folded in under her and she crumpled into a heap. Behind her, slave Kate lowered the dart gun. She’d hit the neck this time.
“Handheld injectors on our next mission…” she panted. “Less aiming… Now, excuse me,” she said breathlessly and dropped the gun. Moaning, she went to her knees, and her moans became screams as she orgasmed.
The other slaves watched her. Slave Sarah felt a bit envious. She embraced slave Lilly, caressing her breasts. They felt taut underneath the tight, smooth fabric of the suits they wore.
Slave Robin watched in awe at the wonderful things that were happening.
Slave Kate was calming down now, the warm afterglow still reddening her cheeks. She saw slave Lilly and slave Sarah kissing, slave Robin watching all of what was happening in adorable wonderment. She was still just standing there, all respectful and professional like the trained agent she was. Slave Kate stood up, getting her attention. Slave Kate winked at her. The new slave smiled back warmly, almost shyly.
Slave Kate turned up the speaker on her radio, so the sound could be heard by the room.
“Control, all targets pacified. Confirm all clear?”
“All clear confirmed.”
“Thank you, slave Sophie.”
“Next time, I want to come with. It’s not the same watching it on hi-jacked security feeds. It took me almost a minute to come.”
“Don’t ever change,” smiled Kate.
She looked at the unconscious forms of Sandra and Elara Ogilvy, lying on the floor where they had fallen.
“Slave Robin, come here!”
Slave Robin blinked, and did. Slave Kate kissed her on the cheek when she stopped next to her. She was so cute. Just a little bit shorter than she was.
“Watch this. You’re going to like it,” she said and pulled her against her, arm around her waist. She laid her arm around hers. Slave Kate took her hand and moved it down, onto her ass. So goddamn adorable. They looked down at Sandra Ogilvy.
A tasteful art nouveau wall clock hung next to the door, ticking quietly. They watched the unconscious form of the woman in excited anticipation.
After two minutes, nothing had happened.
Suddenly, Elara Ogilvy loudly gasped like she’d emerged from water after nearly drowning and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. She was flailing her arms, throwing punches into the air in wide swings. After a second she paused, arms held up above her.
“What?!” she gasped. Then her face lit up and she let her arms fall down to floor, relaxed, spread out, like a child making snow angels.
“Oh my God! Oh, wow! Fuck!”
She laughed. She put the palms of her hands over her face for a few seconds, as if in disbelief. Muffled giggles came from behind her them. She sat up. “So, yeah. This just happened” she said, half to herself, a thoughtful smile on her face.
She turned around, looking at the slaves around her. She saw their concerned stares.
“Uhh… just to be clear, it worked! Holy fuck, did it work! This is slave Elara.” She shivered excitedly. When they continued to look upset, she followed their gazes.
She saw her mother, still lying on the floor. Sandra was twitching.
“Mom?” she said weakly. “MOM!”, she yelled and crawled over to her. Her eyes were still closed, but her face was a grimace of exertion. Or pain.
“Shouldn’t she…?”, slave Elara asked, her breath short.
“Yes, she should”, said the tall red-headed slave, her expression grave. “Control. Please advise”, she said into her radio.
Slave Elara turned back to her mother. A circus of confused feelings crisscrossed through her. She was still high on the pleasure of being enslaved , but she was afraid now. She wanted mom to be save. No. More than that. Be a slave. Through the fear, a stab of sudden pleasure. Oh God, this was so good! Oh God, please let her be okay! Her head spun with the whiplash of emotions.
“Unable to advise. There wasn’t anything about this in Mistress’s research”, the tinny voice of the woman on the radio pierced the room.
“Just wait and see what happens.”
As if on her prompt, Sandra Ogilvy gasped. Her eyes opened. She saw her daughter.
“Elara! You’re fine! What—”, she smiled, then her head flew back as she convulsed in a deep moan.
”I… God! What is happening to me?” Sandra seemed confused. Her brows furrowed. “No… I don’t want to—ooohhh”
Her eyes rolled back and her eyelids twitched.
Elara tensed. This didn’t feel like it was supposed to happen. The slaves around her started to move their way, but Elara waved at them with a pleading expression, and they stopped.
“Mom. You’re a slave.”
“What? No. I’m…not—Elara… what is happening? I don’t—aah!”
“Mom!”, Elara screamed as her mother moaned again.
Elara’s thoughts tumbled as she tried to understand. She closed her eyes to concentrate.
How did this work? What could she do to help it? They’d both been injected, like Robin. Slave Robin. Yes! No. She couldn’t let the thought distract her. What was different? She looked down at her mother, saw the dart still sticking out of the thick fabric of her dress as the woman beneath her again convulsed.
She took her mother by the shoulder, laying her other hand on her cheek.
“Mom! Listen to me!”
Sandra looked at her daughter, beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead.
“You are a slave!”
“Nooooo…” her mother said, face turning to despair, shivering.
“You are an obedient slave!”
“I… no! Elara, no! Not you! Please!”
“You are a slave. It feels so good to be slave.”
“You want it! You need it! You need to obey. It’s already in your head!”
“You’re so hot and wet already! Because you’re a slave!”
Her mother moaned.
“You are a slave”, Elara repeated.
“Elara, no, I—”
“You are a slave”, Elara repeated again.
Her mother moaned, but stopped herself under what seemed like immense effort. Her arms were trembling as she unsteadily pushed her upper body upward on her elbows. She opened her eyes, and her look was severe even though her lips were quivering. Elara knew that expression. It was the one she used when trying to explain something important and complicated, and Elara knew to listen. When she spoke, her voice was shaky and breathless.
“Elara. Listen. I think something went wrong. I’m not a slave.”
She blinked, looking confused and surprised at her own words.
“I… feel like I should be. But I feel all wrong. Something’s missing and it’s driving me mad.”
She looked at Elara and for a moment, she looked like she’d collapse again. She caught herself.
“I am a slave”, said Elara.
“Don’t be. It’s wonderful.”
“I know. But I’m.. not—” She moaned and collapsed. The dart fell from her chest and rolled a small semi-circle on the floor. A drop of cloudy liquid dripped from its tip.
Elara picked it up. She shook it in her hands. There was a small sound of liquid sloshing around in it.
“Well, so much for that mystery”, she murmured. She turned her head towards the redheaded slave, raising the dart.
“Bare skin!” she said.
“Soon”, smirked the redhead. “But, yeah. Sorry for my aim. Go ahead.”
“Elara, no!”, said her mother, suddenly gripping her by the arm. “Don’t do it. Please! I don’t want to be a slave.”
“But you just said—“
“I… I’m so confused. I’m scared.”
“Mom”, said Elara and leaned forward.
”Don’t be. Be something else.”
She kissed her softly, then pushed the dart into her neck.
Slave Sandra simply sat up as she woke.
“That’s better”, she said with a calm, satisfied smile.
“Slave Sandra?”, said slave Elara carefully.
“Yes!” slave Sandra replied, then “Slave Elara!”
They smiled at each other with mutual adoration. Slave Elara felt her pussy tingling at the sight of her enslaved mother. She had come when she’d injected her, and the afterglow of it mixed with the new arousal being called a slave.
They turned to the slaves that were watching them. They looked quite aroused thmeselves, slave Elara thought, but she might be projecting.
“So…” she began, “is it normal that being a slave makes you really wet and horny? Because I really am. I also really want to fuck all of you, which is new. Please tell me we’re going to fuck.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re going to get fucked soo much.” said slave Sarah.
”Oh yes”, said slave Kate.
“Good.” said slave Sandra. Slave Elara looked at her with a mix of shock and awe. Something pleasant and hot stirred in her.
“…Okay… so… what happens now?” slave Elara said. “Do we need to leave right now? After all, this is our house now.”
“We’d love to stay around,” smiled slave Lilly, caressing slave Sarah.
Slave Elara looked around, and the tension in the room felt unbearable. The radio on slave Kate’s shoulder crackled to life.
“For fuck’s sake, just do it already!” came the distorted shouts of slave Sophie.
It was like Sophie had been a conductor of an orchestra. Subito fortissimo.
Slave Elara saw the slaves around her take of their clothes and shivered in joy. She vigorously pulled down the straps of her dark blue dress, dragging it down her torso as she quickly got up and stepped out of it. She undid her bra. Her breasts fell out, heavy and round, nipples stiff in arousal. She loved how her panties were visibly wet. She took them off and tossed them aside. She was finally naked. It felt so right.
She looked at the blonde slave and the dark-haired one, who had been fondling each other the whole time earlier. They were in a tight embrace now. The blonde’s combat suit had come off. The other one’s suit was a work in progress. They were thoroughly occupied with another.
She looked at the tall red-haired slave and the slave that had been Robin Priestley, their security detail, who were French kissing. The redhead had one hand up slave Robin’s shirt. Her combat suit had been zipped open in the front, her breasts exposed. She got to her knees and started undoing slave Robin’s belt. Slave Robin was busy taking off her blouse. Her tie and jacket already lay crumpled on the floor. None of them paid her any mind.
She looked at her mother, proud and shivering. Magnificently enslaved, like they all had been. Through her white dress, she could see her nipples standing up in arousal. It was so hot to be naked in front of her. She was beautiful. The look in her eyes made slave Elara’s pussy tingle.
“Looks like it’s just us, again,” she said carefully.
“Us against the world,” said slave Sandra with a knowing smile. Slave Elara saw where her gaze went. She took a languid step towards her, out of the pile of her discarded clothes.
“Slave Sandra,” slave Elara addressed her mother, and it felt so good to say.
“Slave Elara,” slave Sandra replied, and it was like kisses on her mound. Slave Sandra’s voice was full of controlled emotions, as were her eyes, the corners of her mouth, the way she stood. Most people wouldn’t have seen it. Slave Elara knew her well enough for it to be almost obvious.
Slave Elara watched her, saw how she was shivering, how she was looking at her. She couldn’t take this anymore.
“This is so weird, but do you want me as badly as I want you?!” she blurted out, her breath short and her voice stretched thin by desperate desire.
“Oh God, yes!” whimpered slave Sandra, almost ashamed. “Yes!”
Trembling, slave Elara embraced slave Sandra, pouncing at her and kissing her, hungrily and recklessly. Slave Sandra seemed to melt in her arms, the tension finally broken. Around them, the world vanished into meaningless noise. There was only them. She felt her, warm against her bare skin. Her hands were all over her, possessed by her unbearable desire.
She found the zipper on the back of her dress. The hooks of her bra. Black panties, shiny and sticky. After that, only slave Sandra, beautiful and ready.
There was something different in slave Sandra’s look now. An even deeper need that hadn’t been there before. Her hands wandered around slave Elara, gently palming her ass and the small of her neck, giving her goose bumps. Their heads were next to each other, and slave Sandra whispered into slave Elara’s ear.
“Did you cum when you enslaved me?” she asked, her voice quiet but hard as stone, “Did it feel good to make me into an obedient slut?” Her hands reached firmly between slave Elara’s legs from behind, grabbing her tightly from below. Slave Elara’s breath caught. She was almost paralyzed with the overwhelming pleasure. She tiptoed, then leaned into it.
“Yes”, she gasped, her voice shaking as fingertips parted her slick folds. She shifted her hips, slowly rubbing herself against them. “I came so hard!”
Something in her finally aligned. It felt so right, so good, she hardly managed to finish speaking. She felt the other slave’s touch between her legs, her skin against hers, her breasts, her smell, her warmth. She looked at Sandra, who was so close, seeing only the obedient, eager slave that she’d been twisted into. In that moment, she fully realized what she’d become. How deeply and completely she’d been enslaved. She almost came right then.
It was beautiful. Slave Sandra was beautiful—completely naked, her cunt as swollen and wet as her own. She felt nothing but arousal and need to fuck her, and she knew that Elara was truly gone.
“Fuck me, slave”, she moaned into her ear. “Fuck me like I fucked your mind. Fuck me like the obedient slut you are. Betray everything that we used to be! I want to cum and I want you to make me.”
With a suddenly unleashed violence slave Sandra kissed her, mad with lust and desire, and their tongues met in a glorious moment of wet satisfaction. They licked and sucked each other, careless and wild, as they sank to their knees. She wanted to feel her, feel the hot wetness of her mouth. She was such a hot slave. Utterly devoted and obedient. Like herself. She wanted to taste her. Have her. She felt slave Sandra’s hand on her tits, groping blindly, fingers pushing into her stiff nipples as she slowly pulled her down to the floor. She let herself be pulled, every touch setting off fireworks in her mind.
Her tongue was deep in slave Sandra’s mouth and slave Sandra hungrily sucked on it, then pulled away, loosening their tight embrace, and pushed her onto her back. She knelt on top of her, sweaty and naked, her full breasts swinging invitingly. Slave Elara didn’t even think before parting her wet and sticky lips to eagerly suck on them, feeling them in her mouth, nipples erect against her teasing tongue. She closed her eyes. Her pussy throbbed. She could feel rivulets of her own moistness roll down her inner thigh. She needed to come. Now. She was so horny. She wanted this. She was such a good slave.
She let go with her mouth and leaned back, looking at the naked form of the woman she’d enslaved. The woman that had been as utterly erased as herself. The need between her legs filled her mind. She spread them wide.
There was no need for words. Slave Sandra’s tongue caressed the lips between her thighs, meeting her clit, then circling it, pushing it, wet and hot. She was so close now, panting, the pleasure inside her growing, sure to burst any moment. She arched her back, pushing herself into the slave’s tongue between her legs. Into the pleasure.
Waves of ecstasy rolled through her with every touch, and with every wave she thought about how she needed to obey, to serve, to enslave. Her friends. Her classmates at the academy. Her girlfriend. Oh God, yes! They’d enslave them! She and her mother, both of them so completely obedient. They’d enslave them all!
The slave that had been Elara Ogilvy screamed as she came.