The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Valentia stepped closer to irene. “I’ve caught you again,” she said. “When you thought you could get away. And now that I have you, I’m going to make the most of this chance.”

irene was perfectly accepting of what her Dark Goddess was saying to her. For the moment, there was no resistance left in her. Everything Goddess said was truth, and it was irene’s job to sit and listen to that truth if that was what her Goddess wanted.

“janet-slave,” Goddess said, to irene’s sister slave. “You have pleased me greatly by enthralling irene-slave.”

janet-slave shuddered in pleasure in response to the praise.

“Untie irene-slave, now, and you and donna-slave can stay out here reinforcing each other’s programming until I want you for something.”

“Yes Goddess,” janet-slave replied, and she stepped around behind irene’s chair. irene only dimly noticed when the ropes fell away, and she was freed of her bindngs. Goddess hadn’t told her to pay attention to that. Goddess hadn’t given her any command at all— so it was enough to sit, thoughtless, until she did.

“irene-slave,” Goddess said, and irene’s attention focused on her. “Stand and come with me into the bedroom.”

For a moment, irene thought about how the bedroom was janet-slave’s bedroom; how this was janet-slave’s apartment, and Goddess was only visiting. She thought that Goddess didn’t have the right to commandeer janet-slave’s bedroom, let alone her apartment. It didn’t belong to her.

Then irene felt a moment of conflict— everything Goddess did was correct, because Goddess was perfect. And everything that had been janet-slave’s now belonged to Goddess, because janet-slave belonged to Goddess.

irene belonged to Goddess now for the same reason.

The conflicting ideas were painful for her, and irene felt guilt for the one that she knew was incorrect. Questioning Goddess was wrong, but her mind was doing it.

Goddess somehow seemed to read this entire process on irene’s face, and she beckoned irene with her hand. “Come on, slave.” She repeated.

Even though part of irene’s mind was not in agreement, it was not the part that controlled her body. Goddess had given a command— and irene’s body understood that its task was simply to obey.

So it did.

irene followed Goddess through the bedroom door, and then closed it behind herself when Goddess told her to.

“Sit down on the bed, slave,” Goddess spoke.

irene obeyed. She sat herself on the foot of the bed.

Goddess stood above her, her hands resting on her hips. “I have you now, Irene,” she said. “But I’m under no illusions that my work is done. I’ve had you this deep before, and you still managed to resurface every time. It’s going to take real dedication from me to get you to stay this way permanently. But I’m up to the challenge. I want nothing more than to ensure your permanent and complete obedience. I’m going to make it so you never resurface again.”

irene thought that sounded nice.

“You’ll resurface again during my brainwashing, I’m sure,” Goddess went on. “Probably often, and probably for long periods of time. You’re too mindless at the moment to really understand much of what I’m saying right now, but when you come back up again, you’ll be able to make better sense of it.”

Goddess tilted her head to the side, considering irene from that angle instead. “Your love for janet was enough to break down your initial resistance. But your mind is naturally resistant enough that that will build up again, if left alone. That resistance isn’t gone. It’s only dormant for the moment.”

Goddess looked thoughtful. “We need to make your resistance surface, and condition you while you are in your resistant state. Otherwise we’re making no real progress.”

Goddess nodded to herself, as if confirming her plan of action. Then she spoke again.

“Listen carefully, Irene. I’m going to tell you to wake, but you won’t wake completely. Your resistant side will take control of your awareness. But your slave side will keep control of your body— you will still physically obey any order I give. Because even when you wake, you remember that you still belong to me. And even when you wake, it is impossible for you to completely resist.”

irene accepted these instructions too, but gave no outward sign of acknowledgement. Goddess hadn’t asked for one. Goddess didn’t need one— she knew how complete her control over irene was.

“Wake, Irene.”

Irene blinked. It took her eyes a second to adjust. The last thing she remembered was being out in the other room— Janet’s living room. And she’d agreed… oh, no, she’d agreed to be one of Goddess’ — Valentia’s, she corrected angrily — thralls.

It took her a second to play back what Valentia had said and done in the meantime. It was all there for her to consider, even if her slave self had been oblivious to it.

“I’m still here,” Irene said. “I signed myself over to you— I agreed, because Janet asked me to, but I’m still here. Maybe it’s impossible to erase me completely. Maybe I will always be able to resist you on some level,” Irene challenged. It was mostly an affected bravery. She was concerned by Valentia’s statement that her slave-self would retain control of her body.

Valentia only appeared amused by this challenge. “If you really think you can still resist me, prove it. Do something resistant right now, and show me how well you can resist.”

Irene jutted out her chin, defiantly. She would resist. She’d been crazy to agree to become a thrall alongside Janet. The only reason it had worked was the constant bombardment of conditioning Valentia had had her under before— and the effect that Janet’s person had on her. Those things were not here now, she could think more clearly.

And she knew now that she didn’t want to be Valentia’s slave. She wanted to go on being her own person, even if it meant leaving Janet behind.

And she was going to prove it. She was going to stand, she was going to walk, and she was going to leave. First through the bedroom door, then through the main door. She wasn’t tied down anymore. She could do it.

Irene had made her mind up to do it. She tried to rise to standing— but her body wouldn’t go. It was the strangest feeling— as if she were still being pinned in place. But there was nothing physically restraining from her.

If she couldn’t even stand, she had no hope of reaching the door, let alone walking through it.

Irene’s hands tightened into fists. She tried harder. She clenched her teeth as imperceptibly as she could, and she tried to summon a wave of energy that would carry her all the way up. It didn’t come.

She struggled against her position as if it were an external binding, but she struggled for nothing.

Movement was not possible for her.

“Are you still confident in your ability to resist me, Irene?” Valentia asked. She was wearing the most annoying smirk.

“Maybe not physically,” Irene conceded. “But mentally, I can. I will. You said it yourself. I’ve done it before.”

Valentia looked unconcerned. “Yes, and you’ll do it again, until it’s conditioned out of you. Which it will be— it’s only a matter of time, now. And I have plenty of that.”

“You can’t keep me here indefinitely,” Irene countered.

“Not indefinitely, maybe,” Valentia said. “But long enough. It works out quite conveniently that you and Janet share an office— and that the two of you are known to be so close. Janet can book a nice block of time off for you, so you can stay here with me to focus on your obedience.

“And if anyone’s worried about you,” Valentia added, “she can tell them all the things I want her to about how well you’re doing, until they don’t worry anymore.”

It sounded frighteningly possible. “But—”

Valentia shook her head. “There’s no loophole, Irene. I can keep you here as long as I want— and I can use all of that time to brainwash you until you are so deep that you never come back from it again.”

Irene swallowed. All of the programming Valentia had ever done to her was still in her head, and the promise of such deep brainwashing stirred a hunger to life in her.

That was bad. Valentia hadn’t even officially started.

“So, do you understand the situation?” Valentia asked.

Irene said nothing. She wouldn’t admit that things seemed to be tipped in Valentia’s favor. She would deny Valentia everything that was in her power to deny.

“Now, Irene, it’s time to watch.”

Valentia reached behind herself to lift her shirt up over her head. When it came free, Valentia dropped it on to the floor. This left Valentia’s breasts completely visible to Irene.

They were impressive breasts— Irene had never seen them before now, since she and Valentia had never slept together. They were so large, and shapely. Irene had to grudgingly admit that they were beautiful, by any standard.

“Take a good look, Irene. You remember everything that janet was saying to donna, don’t you? And you were only looking at janet’s breasts then. The only hypnotic power they had was the power I lent to her.”

Irene struggled to look down, look away, look anywhere but at Valentia’s chest. But just she had been unable to stand, she was equally unable to look away when Valentia had told her to look.”

“But my breasts are inherently hypnotic,” Valentia said. She was speaking in that familiar, coaxing way of hers. Irene recognized it from past times that Valentia had hypnotized her. It was more important than ever that Irene look away. She could feel her focus becoming hazy… she could feel herself starting to get turned on.

It would have been even better if Irene could have plugged her ears. But this was impossible for her too— she had no choice but to watch. No choice, but to listen.

“The more that you watch them, the more that you want to obey. And don’t think about slipping back under, Irene… don’t think about hiding behind your slave-self. The more that you watch my breasts, the more you want to obey… to stop resisting, so you can serve me forever.”

Valentia had raised her hands to her breasts now, and she was carefully handing each one in turn. The way she fondled herself was different from the way Janet did it, but no less intoxicating. She moved each breast through her hand with great focus, and the sight of her breasts rippling around her grip was undeniably erotic.

“You want to obey, Irene. You want to obey, because it gives you such pleasure to obey. Even now, watching me display my body for you is turning you on. That’s pleasure I’m giving to you as reward for obedience. You are already obeying me, technically. I told you to look— you have no choice but to look.”

It was sadly true. Irene’s gaze was caught on Valentia’s breasts. And the promise of reward in exchange for obedience was increasing Irene’s arousal by the second. She wanted to be rewarded… she wanted more pleasure…

No! Irene shouted inside her head. She couldn’t let Valentia get to her. She may not have had the ability to shake herself out of it, but she could still try to prevent her attention from slipping with a little internal focus.

Valentia arched her back, forcing her breasts forward into her hands. Irene felt her pussy twinge at the sight.

Valentia let out a moan as she continued massaging her own breasts. “You’re obeying,” she said. “Mentally you’re still resisting me. I can tell. But when you see my breasts, it gets a little past your resistance. It makes you want to give in— you can’t resist the sight of my hypnotic breasts.”

Irene felt it. Just a small inkling in her mind. What would it be like, to be completely controlled by Valentia? She’d never felt it before. There had always been at least a small part of her left, resisting on some level. But what would it be like, if that part weren’t there anymore? If Irene, herself, wasn’t there anymore?

If the pleasure that came to her just as a reward for watching Valentia was this powerful, how much more would she be rewarded for permanently surrendering her will—?

It was a traitorous thought, a poisonous thought murmured into her mind by her slave-self. She couldn’t listen to it. Even if she had to watch, she would resist internally as long as she could.

She’d do it forever, if she had to.

“You’re doing such a good job watching me,” Valentia encouraged. “And you can feel the effect it’s having on you. You are so wet, just from the sight of me. That’s as it should be. I am your Goddess, and when I am experiencing pleasure, it pleases you. My pleasure is contagious— your body is primed to respond, as my slave.”

Valentia’s massaging of her breasts was becoming more distracting as she went on talking. At first, Irene had only felt twinges of pleasure in her pussy, but those twinges had increased to waves. Waves of arousal washed through her body, surging within her lower back, and sweeping through her interior spaces.

Valentia was right. Irene could feel how wet she was, and watching Valentia was only making her wetter. She wished for some kind of relief— she wished for an orgasm, to take the edge off. The waves of pleasure seemed to keep on coming, endlessly.

“You’re so turned on now, you can barely stand it,” Valentia noted. Her fingers found her nipples, and began slipping over them expertly. Irene felt her mouth droop open at the sight.

Again, Valentia spoke the truth. The arousal was agonizing— only becoming more agonizing the more that it increased. She wanted something, anything to reduce it. Anything to make it go away, so she could think properly again. If only Valentia would stop… even just for a minute, so she could collect herself…

“You’re thinking about how wet you are,” Valentia said. “You’re thinking that you’d just love the feeling of a hand slipping between your legs, and stroking through your wetness… It would feel like such a relief to you… and yet, at the same time, it would give you even more pleasure than you’re feeling now… but you know that you want it to happen…”

No, Irene thought. She didn’t… she didn’t want that, because it would only make the arousal worse, and the arousal was already unbearable.

But even though Irene disagreed, her body was begging for this to happen. The pleasure was throbbing in her.

“Touch yourself, Irene,” Valentia said, with a knowing glint in her eyes. “Slide your fingers through that slickness… feel how good it is, to touch yourself as you watch me…”

Irene’s hand was already moving to her naked pussy. She had been gushing the whole time, and when she touched down, she felt how slick she was there. She couldn’t surprise the exhale of surprise that fell from her lips. She’d thought it would feel good, but she’d had no clue just how much.

As she stroked along her slit, the feeling was electric. All the pleasure that had been circulating in her was electrified— increased. And yet, because there was a physical outlet in the motion of her hand between her legs, it did give Irene some of the relief she’d been longing for. At least, at first.

As Irene kept watching Valentia, though, she could see how this had been one more trap for her. The sight of Valentia’s breasts inspired greater arousal in her. Then the feeling of her hand as she masturbated herself gave a little relief to that; took the edge off.

But Irene’s eyes never left Valentia, so as soon as the relief came, it was gone again, because a new wave of arousal washed through her, making her more uncomfortable still.

Irene let out a groan of frustration— all other speech felt a little beyond her.

Valentia’s eyes sharpened. “You’re so turned on now,” she noted. “You’d really like some relief, wouldn’t you? Real relief, not just more pleasure. You’d like a nice, curling orgasm, wouldn’t you?”

Irene let out a whimper, as her fingers slid along her slit again. An orgasm sounded delicious— if only she could have one.

But she reminded herself that it would be a bad thing. It would only further solidify Valentia’s power over her.

“Do you know when slaves get to orgasm?” Valentia asked, slowing the pace with which she was handling herself. This amplified Irene’s pleasure.

Irene kept her lips pressed together, trying to force herself to stay silent this time.

“They get to orgasm in reward for their obedience— and they get to experience pleasure when I experience pleasure.”

The words alone were enough to make Irene’s stroking become more frantic.

“You want to be rewarded this way, now,” Valentia instructed. “You want to worship at my breasts until I tell you to come. And you know that when you do, it will give you all the satisfaction that you crave.”

Again, Irene struggled at her invisible bonds. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want anything that was going to make it harder for her to resist.

She wanted to take her hand from between her legs. She wanted to shake her head. She wanted to thrash, and scream, and beat at the bed. She could do nothing but continue touching herself.

Valentia was stepping closer to her, now, closing the distance. Her breasts were at the perfect height for Irene’s mouth.

“Keep touching yourself, Irene,” Valentia commanded. “And worship my breasts with your mouth.”

In Irene’s mind, she made one last bid for physical control. But her body moved on its own— and then Irene’s lips were closing around Valentia’s nipple.

The sensation set her own fire. She was working herself so fast between her legs she thought she would work herself raw. Her tongue swirled around Valentia’s nipple, and her lips pressed tight and sucked hard around it.

An idea occurred to her— doubtless, another suggestion from her traitorous slave-self— to lift her free hand, and handle Valentia’s other breast, in order to serve them both at the same time—

No, serve them? Not serve them! She wasn’t serving… she was being forced against her will to act this way, but it had nothing to do with her. She wouldn’t go along with it. Just because her body had to obey didn’t mean she had to obey in her mind. She would not think of this in those terms.

But the inkling from before was back. What would it be like, to simply enjoy the experience of obedience, without any resistance remaining in her? With no resistance there to distract from it.

Irene could imagine how much better it would feel even then this.

And part of her was grateful to Valentia, grateful because that part of Irene understood that Valentia was going to take her there, sooner or later.

Irene’s hand closed around Valentia’s other breast, and then she felt Valentia’s hand set down on top of it.

“Like this,” Valentia said, guiding Irene’s hand. “Just as I’m training your mind to perfect obedience, I’m training your body too.”

Irene followed the guidance of Valentia’s hand, as she kept licking and sucking at her other nipple. After a few minutes — or maybe hours? it was hard to tell — Valentia released her grip on Irene’s hand.

“Yes,” she hissed, thrusting her breasts further forward in response. “Now you are my perfect instrument— serving me in worship, and feeling my pleasure fill you as reward.”

Irene couldn’t deny it— and it felt good to be worshipping Valentia. But it felt good the way guilty pleasure always did. Irene knew it was bad for her— Irene knew it would only hurt her. But somehow that made her enjoy it just a bit more.

“Yes, faster,” Valentia encouraged, and Irene obeyed, redoubling the attentions she was paying to Valentia with her lips, her tongue, and her hand.

“Yes— almost— and when I come, you will orgasm at the same time—” Valentia added, breathlessly. “Yes— Yes!”

Irene felt her own orgasm take her. It was not explosive— it reached in deep. So deep there was no hiding from it. There was no part of her left that was separate from it. The pleasure was complete; total. She moaned unintentionally into Valentia’s breast.

“Very good, slave,” Valentia said, brushing a piece of Irene’s hair back behind her ear. “You sit on the bed again.”

Valentia took a step back, as Irene leaned away. She reached down to the floor, to retrieve her shirt. “I’m going to leave you now, but I’ve got something for you to do while I’m away. Stand and follow,” Valentia added.

Irene did.

She hadn’t noticed before, but Janet had a desk in her room, with a computer on it. Valentia walked them over to it, and when she reached the desk chair, she instructed Irene to sit in it.

Irene sat.

“While you are not being actively programmed, we’re going to make sure your mind is soaking in constant, passive programming.” Valentia hit the space bar on the computer keyboard, bringing the screen to life.

Immediately, Irene’s vision was assaulted with an image of Valentia’s naked breasts. She was disturbed to find the effect as powerful as it had been just a minute ago. Apparently seeing Valentia’s breasts in photograph was no different than seeing them up close.

“It’s set to run a constant slide show,” Valentia explained. “It will run as long as you’re sitting here— bombarding your mind with images of the object of your worship. And the more that you watch, the more all those lovely scripts I’ve stashed in your head will reinforce themselves. Enjoy— you’ll be in this little world for a while.”

Valentia hit the space bar again, starting to slideshow running. Irene heard Valentia turn, then, and next heard her footsteps moving to the door. She could not turn to watch her go. Her eyes were already glued to the screen.

Just as before when she had desperately wanted to look away from Valentia, she now desperately wished to look away from the screen in front of her. But she remained unable to turn her head.

The images on the screen flashed by fast, but their movement was slow enough for Irene to register that they were all pictures of Valentia’s breasts. Pictures of Valentia’s breasts taken from every conceivable angle, painted in every possible lighting combination, and in all kids of shots. Some close-up, some pulled back. Some of them were so close up that Irene might have been at Valentia’s breast again, poised to suck.

To Irene’s dismay, her lips puckered unintentional, as if to accept Valentia’s nipple.

Still the images flickered on. She knew it was foolish, but when each image faded away, part of her hoped there would be no more to follow it. She wished the screen would go black. She didn’t want to see anymore.

When she watched the images, she could hear all that Valentia had said to her before. She could even hear some of the things Janet had said before, when she was programming Donna.

She, Irene, was a thrall… it was her rightful place, where she belonged, and all she wanted was to worship her Dark Goddess however she could. All she wanted was to do what her Dark Goddess said, now and forever…

The images flashed on before her eyes. Irene could feel herself becoming aroused again, even so soon after her recent orgasm.

This frustrated her— Valentia had left the room, left Irene to watch these images indefinitely. This mean that Irene’s pleasure was just going to keep increasing, and never find a plateau, until Valentia came back to relieve her. Who knew when that would be?

Irene wondered how long she had already been sitting there. There were no obvious clues for her. All the flashing pictures seemed to melt together in her memory. They weren’t distinct enough to use as markers. Besides, Irene couldn’t be sure that there weren’t an endless number of them that the program was cycling through.

She tried next turning her attention to the chair. If she’d been sitting in the same place for a long time, surely her body would have started to feel sore. But when she really focused in on her body, it distracted her with pleasure. The mounting, rising pleasure in her was just too all-consuming to ignore. And if she paid attention to it, it dragged her attention back to the screen in front of her, and pulled her back into the cycle of her brainwashing.

Irene was finding it almost impossible to keep out of it. There were no markers in the room for the passage of time; and even if there had been, they wouldn’t have done her a lot of good, since she couldn’t even look away from her screen.

But this meant that she had no idea how long she had been sitting there. It could have been five minutes. It could have been five hours. She was in a partially tranced state, her attention wired to the cascade of images before her— and she couldn’t be sure that there weren’t words flashing in the split second between each one.

She definitely did not feel normal. It was impossible to tell if her body would interrupt her state with physical cues, or not. She couldn’t quite trust that it would.

It felt like stepping into a strange limbo. All that existed was the present moment, and the present moment was endless.

Irene was alone in that endless moment. The only company available to her was the programming that washed over her mind; the memory of Valentia’s programming, coming through either herself, or through Janet. And the images of Valentia’s breasts— they were the most reliable constant.

In a way, part of Irene was clinging to the sight of them. The rest of the room had ceased to exist. All existence outside of the room had ceased to exist, and if Irene did not cling to the images in front of her, there would have been nothing for her to do but fall into the void surrounding her.

After a long time, or no time at all, since time had become meaningless, brief interruptions came into her world. A figure would come to the desk, and instruct her to do— something. To accept some amount of food (which she swallowed without opening, her eyes still wide, and locked on the screen). To accept water (and when her lips closed around the rim of the bottle, she half sucked at it, as if Valentia were really in front of her again).

These interruptions were brief— and more importantly, they never pulled her away from the screen. They always seemed to be over almost as soon as they began.

In the back of her mind Irene fought to maintain sanity, in her enduring moment. She could feel how easy it would be to slip. How easy it would be to give in. The pictures were washing over the surface at her mind, pulling at her. They enticed and encouraged her just to surrender herself completely.

Her slave-self was encouraging her too. For Irene, the experience was hellish. But for irene-slave, it was heaven, and the longer the brainwashing went on, the more power irene-slave became.

It was not only the pictures that lapped at her, encouraging her permanent obedience, demanding her last surrender.

irene-slave, within her, was begging her for it too. Begging Irene to join her— to become her permanently and forget everything. Begging her to become so thoughtless that she would never think again, unless Goddess told her to.

Irene only grew increasingly disturbed the longer the programming went on— because the more that irene-slave whispered in her mind about what it would feel like to be that thoughtless, that perfectly obedient, the more the idea of it turned her on.

The brainwashing was affecting her on some level. Chipping away at her slowly, but consistently.

Sometimes when the figure came, they made Irene leave the room with them to walk to the bathroom. But even on those occasions when Irene left the room, her mind stayed stationary in front of the screen, drinking in the images. Then before she knew it her body was back to join it again.

The never-ending cycle dragged on, within that endless moment.

It was abruptly ended when the computer went black in front of her.

With bleary confused eyes, Irene looked up, to see Valentia standing over there.

“You’ve been watching for three days straight,” Valentia said. “The sleep deprivation helps the conditioning to sink in deeper. But it’s time for you to sleep.”

She helped Valentia out of the chair, and over to the bed that had once been Janet’s. Irene wondered vaguely where Janet slept now; probably wherever Valentia chose for her.

Valentia pulled back the blanket, and helped Irene into the bed in the same way she’d helped her out of the chair.

Irene had to admit she was partly thankful. If she really had been sitting for three days straight, her body was feeling it. She was sore all over.

But before Irene closed her eyes, Valentia reached down towards either side of her head, and hooked a pair of earbuds into her ears.

“Sleep well, slave,” Valentia said. But her voice was barely audible to Irene. There was a voice speaking the earbuds, and it was so much closer to Irene that it was almost impossible to hear anything else.

It was Valentia’s voice in her earbuds too— saying things that irene-slave was keen to agree with. Telling her that she was a slave. Telling her that she was thrall. She belonged to the Dark Goddess— she was so obedient that it was impossible for her to think a thought unless she’d been programmed to think it. Her mind was empty at all times, unless Goddess bid it to become more aware.

Obedience made her so happy that she just wanted smile and laugh and giggle all the time. The only thing that mattered to her was her own obedience, and she was always so eager to obey.

Irene half-heartedly batted at the messages in her mind, as if she could knock them away. But the sleep deprivation of the last few days was catching up to her. She could feel herself already drifting off as she struggled against the new onslaught of message.

Valentia’s voice followed her down into her sleep.

The next morning when Irene woke up, she felt refreshed. She felt a little less confused and disoriented than she had before. The sleep had restored some of her mental clarity.

But the earbuds were still playing in her ears— and she found herself already aroused. Maybe she’d been kept that way all night, as the messages played into her sleeping mind.

She could still hear Valentia speaking now… telling her to obey…

The earbuds were abruptly removed from her ears. The real, physical Valentia was in front of her again.

“Up, slave,” she said. “Come out with me into the living room, this time.”

Irene followed. She still wanted to fight, still want to regain control of her body… but somehow, it seemed less urgent to her now… she could fight later. After all, it wasn’t as if it was actually going to get her anywhere. irene-slave was the one who controlled her body, and she only seemed to have been strengthened by the brainwashing.

One of the dining chairs was still in the center of the living room. Or maybe it had been moved away and then moved back. There was no way to know.

“Sit,” Valentia said. “I’m going to grace you with another viewing of my breasts.” She again removed her top, baring herself from the waist up.

irene-slave had become so much louder in Irene’s head. She was spewing devoted praise at the sight of her Goddess’ breasts.

It was very distracting for Irene. It made it harder for her to remember that she was supposed to be resisting— that she was supposed to be holding on to herself.

“You can already feel the effect washing over you,” Valentia said, as she slowly began to play with herself again. “My breasts are softening your mind, making you want to give in. You can’t even remember why you ever wanted to be Irene— why you wanted to hold on so badly to her. You only want to be irene-slave now. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

Irene felt her head nodding, but she was not the one nodding it. The slave part of her was already much too strong. Privately, Irene still disagreed with Valentia’s script. She did want to be Irene— irene-slave was the one she didn’t want to be.

But with Valentia’s breasts there in front of her, moving so deliciously through Valentia’s hands, Irene couldn’t quite understand why… irene-slave seemed to be enjoying herself so much. She was obeying… she was happy… she was thoughtlessly serving her Goddess.

What was so bad about that?

There was something bad about it, Irene insisted to herself. There was supposed to be something bad about it, only she couldn’t remember what, or why… She should care more about the fact that she couldn’t. That meant something to, but so much of the information seemed to be missing… and it all seemed like so much work to try and disentangle…

“Move your hands with me, slave,” Valentia instructed. irene-slave lifted Irene’s hands to fumble through an imitation of Valentia’s motions.

“janet-slave,” Valentia said, sounding a touch exasperated. “Will you help your sister thrall? Help her get the motion right.”

Irene felt a second pair of hands on her own; janet-slave’s — Janet’s, she corrected.

Irene felt the same pleasure washing through her as before, the same pleasure she now understood would always wash through her whenever she saw her Goddess’ tits…

No… Irene thought weakly. That thought was wrong.

Why was it wrong? She still couldn’t remember… she was so tired… her hands felt so good on her breasts… Valentia’s breasts were so beautiful to watch as they shifted in her grip… and Janet was guiding Irene’s hands so perfectly. Everything felt so good… there was so much pleasure… it made Irene happy.

She remembered that irene-slave was happy too… if she was happy, and irene-slave was happy… was she fading away, and disappearing into irene-slave?

She could feel some distinction between the two of them, but she was the one who was keeping it there. irene-slave was happy… irene-slave was obedient… she could be happy and obedient… she would never have to think again, if she would just give in, and become irene-slave permanently.

Everything around her and everything within her was pushing her to do it. Janet’s hands over hers told her to do it. The image of Valentia standing in front of her told her to do it. Valentia herself, who was still speaking, and literally encouraging her to do it.

Irene found that she wanted to… she wanted to let go of resistance forever, and become a thoughtless thrall permanently, the way they were all encouraging her to be.

It was as simple as deciding to give in— to give up being Irene, give up the hope of ever waking up feeling like herself again.

It only required a split-second decision from her.

Irene thought about it one more time.

She gave in.

irene-slave felt it when the change happened— felt the last of her old resistance falling away. Leaving her free to worship and serve Goddess forever.

Her mind was blank, and thoughtless. But she was so filled with joy that a giggle escaped her lips.