The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A tiny bell rang sweetly as Lorelie stepped through the door of the latex shop. The sign outside had called it TRANSFORMED Right under that it had said, “Forever in Rubber.”

The inside was even cooler than the square outside. It was a basic shop layout, with racks and shelves of items, a basic wood floor and simple lighting, but the decorations were to die for. In the window display, a slave in red rubber short-shorts and tube-top was hanging by her wrists, watched over by a mistress in a black rubber catsuit. In one corner, by the cash register, there was a mannequin dressed up as a fetish maid all in tight-fitting rubber, posed as if she were dusting the nearby shelves. Overhead, hanging from the ceiling, was a rubber mermaid, swimming across the ceiling. Her sparkling blue-green outfit left her breasts exposed for the world to see and squeezed her legs together into a shimmering latex tail with a big fin at the end holding her feet. Near to the back, among the shelves, was a naked mannequin holding up two different rubber outfits on hangers, looking as though she were pondering which to try on.

Still impressed by the realism of the mannequins, she stepped up to the last, looking over her two choices, and then leaned in close to it and whispered, “I’d take the red one.”

“So would I.”

Lorelie jumped out of her skin, yelping. She turned quick and there behind her was a woman with a grin on her face. “I’m sorry,” the woman told her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Still grinning, the woman walked past her out to the open area of the floor. She was dressed as if she had just gotten out of bed. She carried a fresh cup of steaming coffee and all she had on was a pair of panties and an oversized button-down shirt she might have stolen from a boyfriend’s closet. Of course, both the panties and the shirt were made from rubber.

“Can I help you find something?” the woman called over her shoulder.

“Oh, uh, yeah...” Lorelie muttered, following her. “I’m from a really small town in the middle of nowhere and... well, I’ve never been in a place like this before, sad as that is... and, well...”

“...and you’d like to get a fetish makeover,” the woman finished for her.

She actually blushed and said, “Yes.”

“Well, then,” the woman smiled back, “my name is Lianna, and I’m going to transform you.”

Kim, meanwhile, was having kittens. “Oh, come on!” They found an alleyway crammed with tent stalls, mostly selling food, but some with various products and services. One had an elf-girl magically painting tattoos onto her patrons. One was selling robot maids, and another had cages filled with Japanese cat-girls, some naked and some covered in downy fur, all with the ears, tails, whiskers and even little fangs of cats, and all very sexy. Samantha was very tempted to take one with short gray fur that had very eagerly rolled over and let Sam pet her tummy.

...She was also very tempted to see if they’d turn Kim into a cat-girl, even though she was Thai. Kim would look really sexy as a squirming, purring pussy, she thought.

She shook her head, wondering where that thought had come from, and ran to catch up with the others.

Kim was pouting. “I just want to play a game of Whack-a-Pole! Is that too much to ask?”

Melissa was giggling at her frustration. “You know, she’s probably just building dramatic tension, or something, you know? Saving the best for last?”

Kim pouted and told her, “Yeah, but if she drags this on much longer, I won’t have much time to play.”

“Melissa.” This last had come from Sam in a whispered voice. They turned to follow her eyes and under a tent marked “Bound for Slavery” were three bound and naked girls on display.

Even Kim stopped her ranting as the three stared in shock. They walked up to the tent to get a closer look. On the left was a girl bound in a black leather harness that crisscrossed over her torso and under her in thin straps. Matching straps held her hands behind her back and kept her ankles apart. There was a matching black leather hood over her eyes and a matching gag over her mouth.

The girl on the right had been mummified in wide red tape of some kind. Her toes stuck out, as did her nose and her breasts, but otherwise, she was completely covered and wound tight. She was held up straight by a chain that was somehow fastened behind her back.

The girl in the middle was tied in thick coarse rope. Her elbows were pulled together, arching her back and thrusting out her ample breasts which were then wound tightly in the rope. The rope then traveled down under her, between the lips of her sex and then up behind her to a pulley system. She’d been hoisted up on that, settling all her weight on her nether lips and pulling down on her tits. She was breathing loud in considerable distress, fidgeting her weight around on her toes, sweating with the effort of not settling down onto her lips.

All three were young, say early twenties, and all three were squirming and moaning in terror. The eyes of the rope girl looked at Samantha, pleading for escape. Samantha was breathing hard, herself. Something about the girl’s fear, her sweat, the smell of her terror, woke something hot in Samantha.

“My god,” she heard Kim whisper. “What the fuck is this?”

“Can you not read the sign?” A tall woman with in a red leather corset with a braid of jet black hair to her ass stepped forward out of the tent. She looked at Kim and Melissa with obvious disgust, spitting her words at them. She turned to Samantha, though, and nearly purred, “They are slaves.”

Samantha had been looking into the green pleading eyes of the rope slave. As she turned to look at the newcomer, the woman ran her hands over the terrified girl’s body, looking into Sam’s eyes. “Beautiful aren’t they?”

Samantha looked her in the eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

The woman took Samantha’s hand and cupped it over the rope slave’s breast, tickling her fingers over the nipple. “I’m afraid you’ve come a bit early. We’ve just captured them and only had time to bind them. They’re not yet broken.”

The rope slave whimpered at this, watching the two. Samantha just smirked. “What? You don’t import them already trained?”

“Goodness, no.” The slaver told her in all seriousness. “Where’s the fun in that? We capture our slaves live, here at Eros Park, and break their wills right here where the public can watch. Once broken, they are sold to other shopkeepers across the park.

“Wow,” Melissa whispered. Sam noticed she was decidedly flush, and running her hands over her breasts absentmindedly.

“You capture girls in this park and turn them into sex slaves whether they like it or not?” Sam asked in an awed voice. Her hands were roaming over the rope slave’s breasts as she asked it, and the slave’s eyes were shedding tears of frustration and pain. Sam was feeling wet from it.

“No, sister. We only capture and break them if they don’t want it.” Sam looked up into the slaver’s eyes and the slaver looked back at with an excited hunger. “What’s the point of breaking someone who wants to serve? There are plenty of places for one such as that to go for training. Ours is the art of breaking the unwilling.” With that she wrapped an arm around the rope slave’s waist and dug her fingers into the girl’s aching red pussy, eliciting a terrified whimper from the girl’s lips. “It takes days, even weeks, of whipping, humiliation, and intense training, but in the end, their resistance makes their final surrender so very sweet.”

“Have any ever escaped?” Sam asked.

The slave’s eyes swiveled to the slaver with a look of hope, but the slaver told her with a firm voice, “Never. Once we have them in our grasp, they are ours forever.” She looked into Samantha’s eyes, smiling, and then nodded out into the crowd. “Pick one. Any one.”

Sam turned to look out at the crowd milling about in the yard beyond the tent. Dozens of people were walking past, glancing around in the booths, laughing, talking, meandering through the crowds, getting on with their quiet lives. Pick one? For a moment, she looked over at Kim and Melissa.

“Not them,” the slaver told her, “They want to serve.”

“I do not!” Kim gasped.

“Yes you do,” the woman told her offhandedly, “You just don’t know it, yet.”

Sam turned back and looked at the people, feeling very warm and squirmy inside. Just for a moment, she wondered if any of them were ‘real’ like her and the others. Were they just dreams – set dressing as Melissa would have her believe – or was she really about to condemn some poor, innocent girl to eternal slavery?

“That one,” she told the slaver, pointing to a sixteen-year-old girl with innocent blue eyes standing in line for gyros and glancing around at the stalls.

“Excellent taste,” the slaver whispered, licking her lips. “Naivety is so much fun to break.” She turned and called to another woman in the back – tall, tanned, dressed in black panties and tall leather boots – and together the two marched out of the tent right for the clueless teenage girl.

She saw them coming, but only looked at them curiously, as if to ask them if they needed something. It took her by complete surprise when they grabbed hold of her arms and neck and shoved her rudely to the ground.

She screamed. Kim and Melissa flinched, staring at the scene in horror as the slavers handcuffed the girl. “What are you doing?” Kim gasped.

Two of the girl’s friends moved to help her. The booted slaver turned on them, waving her arm, and a long leather bullwhip appeared from nowhere, snapping at the air in front of them. “Wish to join her, do you?” They stepped back, watching their friend being dragged bodily to the tent. “If you want her back so badly, then return in six weeks for the auctions. By then, she’ll be a well-trained cunt-licker! Now go!” She cracked her whip and they moved off.

“You said it yourself,” Samantha told her friends, “They’re not real, right?” She stepped forward to help the red slaver drag the girl into the tent, kicking and screaming, as Kim and Melissa watched. She wrestled the girl to her knees, holding her down as Red produced a red rubber ball-gag and stuffed it into the girl’s mouth. Once she was firmly gagged, the slaver told her to heft the girl to her feet and produced a leash and collar. She clipped the end of it to a bar in the top of the tent and wrapped the collar around her neck, holding her up on her feet.

The girl struggled to get loose but couldn’t manage much with the collar tugging at her neck. She watched in wide-eyed terror as the booted slaver produced three pair of scissors. She and “Red” and Samantha ran their hands all over her squirming body, tugging at her clothes and cutting them away. In moments, she was naked, her clothes a pile of scraps at her feet. She was whimpering, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, as Sam ran her hands over her naked form with the slavers watching.

“Can you feel it, sister?” Red asked her in a throaty voice.

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing the shaking girl’s tits in her hands.

“She is powerless in your hands.”

“Yes.”

“Her very life is yours.”

“Yes.” Samantha smiled, sliding her lips up to the girl’s ear, breathing heavy. “You hear that?” she whispered, “You’re mine, now.”

The girl shook her head violently, and Samantha laughed softly. “We’ll see.”

Boots walked up to Samantha and held out a heavy-looking cat-o-nine-tails. “Whip her.”

“Sam?” It was Melissa, and as Samantha turned to look at her, pressing her body up against the new slave, Melissa was looking back at her with a look of fear and awe. Kim was behind her, just looking scared.

Samantha slowly smiled at them and said, “Go away.”

Melissa looked at the two of them – captor and captive – and something in Samantha sang. Kim tugged at Melissa’s arm, still staring at Sam with fear in her eyes, trying to pull her friend away.

“Go find your silly games,” Sam told her, taking the whip from Boots. The girl had turned her head, her eyes pleading with Melissa and Kim for help, but under the intense gaze of Samantha and the two slavers, they turned and walked away.

“Melissa?” Sam called. Melissa turned to look at her and Samantha hugged her slave closer, holding her tits with one hand and wrapping a leg around her, rubbing her foreleg into the girl’s privates. “I’ll catch you later.”

Melissa stood and stared another moment, the implications of her roommate’s words sinking in, and then turned to follow Kim.

“I didn’t know your roommate was such a bitch.” Kim told Melissa as they walked quickly out of the alleyway.

“Neither did I,” Melissa answered in a whisper, still looking back at Sam.

Back at the latex shop, Lorelie had her nose buried in a rack of bodysuits, breathing in the intoxicating scent of the rubber. She let out a long sigh, straightening with a smile. For the umpteenth time, she idly reached down and stroked the latex panties that Lianna had insisted she try on first – to get her interest flowing, she’d said.

She caught sight of Lianna in a looking glass on the wall, smiling as she watched Lorelie stroking herself. She blushed deeply and pulled her hand away. “So,” Lianna said with a grin, “What would you like to try on first?”

She bit her fingernail, glancing about the place in anticipation. “Oh, I don’t know. I love it all.”

Lianna laughed and told her, “Well, we’ll just have to order out and make it an all-nighter, then.”

Lorelie laughed with her and said, “Unfortunately, I don’t have all night, though I wish I did.”

“Too bad,” Lianna told her, “You’re such a wonderful beauty, I could spend eternity dressing and redressing you.” When Lorelie only smiled and blushed, she said, “All right, then. What intrigues you the most?”

“Honestly,” she replied, pointing straight up, “that one.”

Lianna followed her gaze and said, “Ah, you like my mermaid.”

“I love all the mannequins – in here and outside.”

“They are lovely, aren’t they? Immortal beauties on display. We create them ourselves, you know. They make for wonderful community projects.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.”

“So, the mermaid. I’m afraid I don’t have another tail like that one, but we can do something very similar.”

“Can we?” Lorelie was practically bouncing, now.

Lianna shrugged. “Instead of a tail, we slip you into a hobble dress to keep your legs close together, and we compliment it with matching latex boots and opera gloves... and I think your figure would do well with a cupless corset.”

Lorelie spun, gasping. “A corset?”

“Oh, yes,” Lianna told her, crossing the room to a shelf. “Your figure just screams for one.” From the shelf, she pulled a black rubber whaleboned corset and held it up for her. It was impossibly skinny in the middle, and Lorelie squirmed at the sight of it.

“There’s no way my body will do that.”

Lianna only laughed, opening the back of the corset as she advanced on the blushing girl. “Oh, trust me. I’ve been doing this for a long time.” She wrapped the rubber prison around her midsection, telling her, “Of course, we need to put the dress on first, but...” she spun the girl around, pulling her by the corset to face a looking glass in the wall. Lorelie stood transfixed by the sight of herself, her waist in the loosely held corset and her breasts standing free and proud, framed by it.

“Suck it in,” Lianna commanded, and Lorelie quietly did as she was instructed, hypnotized by her image in the mirror as Lana pulled hard on the back, quickly doing up the snaps and straps to tighten it around her. “There, you see?”

Lorelie stood speechless. Her waist was tiny, locked in black shiny rubber.

Lianna’s hands moved to Lorelie’s hips, pulling her back. Her lips came up to her ear and whispered, “Isn’t that beautiful?”

Lorelie nodded, still watching the glass and gasping, “Yes.”

Lianna’s hands hugged her around the waist. “Put yourself completely in my hands, little one, and I will make such art with you.”

Lorelie closed her eyes, moaning, and leaned back into her. “I’m yours.”

Samantha stroked her hand over the reddened cheeks of her slave’s ass. They were warm to the touch, and the little thing shook and whimpered delightfully in response. She spun the whip lazily in her hands, stepping around the girl. She was just starting to work up a sweat, her breath coming heavy.

The girl trembled from head to foot, staring down at her feet and flinched whenever Samantha touched her. Samantha was teaching her to not struggle – to stand very still while her owner played with her and to keep her eyes down – but she drew far too much pleasure from teasing her. Pinching her reddened ass, ticking her breasts, pulling her hair... She’d never known such fun.

“You know, I did choose very well,” she said to the two slavers who looked on with deep satisfaction. “She is so very beautiful when she’s terrified. Tell me, slave, do you like girls?”

The girl shook her head quickly, so Samantha asked her, “You like boys?” When the girl nodded, still staring at her feet, Samantha circled all the way around her, smirking. “Well, maybe I’ll sell you to one.” She and the other slavers laughed and she said, “Maybe if you’re a very good little girl, and you learn your lessons well, I’ll sell you to some rich boy who’ll pamper his little pet and fuck her well and often. Would you like that, pet?”

The girl sobbed quietly and shook her head.

“No? You’re not still thinking that I’ll let you go, are you?” She cupped one of the girl’s round breasts in her free hand. “Have you been enjoying the park, I wonder? Have you been playing with any of the girls bound and naked here? Are trying to imagine yourself as one of them, yet?” The girl shook her head weakly, sobbing.

Sam watched her cry in delight, flickering her fingernails over the girl’s helpless nipples. “I wonder if these will be as much fun to whip as your ass.”

The girl screamed anew and started to struggle all over again, pulling away from Samantha.

Samantha only grinned. “Mistake.”

“So what does this stuff do again?” Lorelie was asking as Lianna rubbed a lotion over her naked body from head to foot.

“Oh, a number of things,” the woman told her as she worked the balm into her back and worked her way around to her chest. She’d asked Lorelie to remove the wonderful panties so that she could work the lotion into all her ‘nooks and crannies.’ She stood blushing now as the lotion was slowly worked into her breasts. She didn’t want Lianna to know just how much she was enjoying her ministrations. “Among other things, it makes sure your skin is all soft and smooth so the latex will pull on easily, and it increases your skin’s sensitivity so you feel everything so much better. It heightens the pleasure of the whole experience and makes it last so very much longer.”

“Wow. You know, I think you’ve got my boobs covered, though.”

“Well sure I do, but I don’t want to let them go. They’re so firm and so gorgeous.”

“What, mine? They’re nothing special.”

Lianna scoffed and came around to face her. “Nothing special? I’ve seen plenty of breasts in my day, sweetheart, and these are something to celebrate.”

“You really think so? I mean, they’re just B’s.”

“Hey, breasts don’t have to be big to be beautiful. Yours are a wonderful shape, and they’re high and firm, and they have fantastic nipples. They’re terrific.”

“Yeah?” Lorelie asked her, blushing.

“You know, we should work some sort of ornamentation for them into the outfit, here.”

Lorelie suddenly found herself wanting to bounce again. “What kind?”

“I’m not really sure. There’s always a bar piercing, or dangling jewels, or a tattoo of some sort, but how to best accentuate them?” She studied Lorelie’s chest for a moment in quiet contemplation, and then said, “Let me call in an expert.”

“Screamed yourself hoarse yet, little one?”

The girl hung by her chain and only nodded her head.

“Would you like some water?”

The girl risked a glance up at Samantha’s eyes.

“Oh, it’s not that I’m being generous, or anything,” Sam told her as she unbuckled the gag in her mouth. “I need to build trust between us so that you learn how this works. So, would you like some water?”

When the girl only turned her head down and nodded, Samantha told her, “The proper response is, ‘Yes, Mistress.’”

The girl’s voice came out cracked and sore. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl.” She took a bottle of water from Boots and tipped it up for the girl to drink. When the girl had a few sips, she upended the bottle, pouring the ice-cold contents over her slave’s breasts and ass. The girl yelped, but pushed out her sore body for the water. “Does that feel good?”

The girl nodded and Sam snarled, “So say ‘Thank you, Mistress.’”

“Thank you, Mistress,” the girl snapped out, and when Sam stood staring at her expectantly, “I’m sorry, Mistress?”

Samantha smiled and told her, “Good girl. You’re learning.” She circled around the girl, swinging her whip and apparently thinking. “So, I need a name for my new pet. No, no, the one your parents gave you is meaningless, now. I need something that says ‘helpless and obedient.’ Would Rover be too tacky for a slave?” she asked the slavers.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Red told her, “but there are some good names out there, like Tool or Bitch...”

“...or Puss,” Boots told her.

“I think I’ll go with Whisper,” Sam decided. “From now on, slave, that’s all your allowed to do. Whisper. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” she whispered, still watching her feet.

“Good girl,” Samantha smiled at her. “So. Let’s have some playtime.”

Lorelie stood with her chest thrust out and grinning silly as the two women examined her breasts. The newcomer – Jan, Lianna had said her name was – was dressed in nothing but tight leather pants and stiletto heels, her jet black locks curling down around her own sizable mounds, and she was looking at Lorelie’s boobs like they were hanging in a museum.

“Love the outfit,” Jan said, and Lorelie blushed a little. While they waited for Jan to arrive, Lianna had dressed her in her new rubber outfit. The seafoam hobble-skirt started at the top of her abdomen and hugged her tightly down past the curves of her ass, and then flowed down like an upside-down champaign flute to her feet, confining her legs to mincing steps. The black cupless corset was tightened to breathtaking extremes over it, and long black rubber opera gloves slid all the way up her arms. Lianna had been buckling the six-inch black stiletto heels in place and locking them there with tiny little golden padlocks as Jan walked in.

Now they both walked around her, admiring her breasts. Occasionally, one or the other would reach out and caress or hold one or the other, admiring the firmness or the shape or the skin tone. Lorelie thought she really should be offended at the casual groping, but she was so flattered that she found herself wanting them to touch them more.

…Besides, that sensation-enhancing lotion Lianna had used on her seemed to be working. Every little touch from them or the rubber felt so wonderful. She wanted to be touched, wanted to be in the slick, cool rubber for as long as she could dare to. She loved this place. Their touch felt amazing, and their praise left her feeling giddy. She wanted to pose for them, show them how beautiful she could be. She wished silently that she could stay.

“Hmm. Well, a tattoo wouldn’t work at all for her” Jan was saying. “It would distract from their natural beauty. And a simple pair of bars in her nipples is too understated.”

“I was thinking maybe a pair of dangling emeralds to compliment the color of the skirt?”

Jan scrunched her face up in thought, and said, “No, too much swinging, not enough elegance for her shape. Although,” she said, “a nice little balance could be had from a light golden chain between the nipples.”

“A what?” Lorelie asked.

“A chain,” the woman told her, stepping closer and taking both nipples in her hands. “We pierce the nipples and affix one end in each so the chain is permanently draped between your breasts. Draws more attention to your chest and moves nicely with you.”

Lorelie glanced between the two women uncertainly, “Oh, I don’t know...”

Lianna raised one eyebrow at her and told her, “You’re the one who wanted a fetish makeover, darling. It’s a bit daring, to be sure, but she’s right. It would be the perfect compliment to your perfect breasts.”

Lorelie smiled, just a bit embarrassed at how hot and bothered the image was making her, and said, “Well, okay.”

“She’s being such a good girl, now,” Samantha mused to the slavers. Whisper was hanging listlessly at the end of her chain, hanging her head and quietly shedding tears as she passively let Samantha toy with her. “But she’s not truly broken, is she?”

“Goodness, no,” Red told her. “In her heart, she still hopes for escape. She’s only tired. In a few hours, she’ll be fighting you again.”

“That’s too bad,” Samantha said, pouting. She pinched one of Whisper’s nipples fiercely and said, “I was hoping to give her a little reward if she surrendered easily, and I’m already growing tired of this game.”

Whisper risked a glance up into Samantha’s eyes. Samantha looked back into hers and smiled evilly. “Maybe just one more chance. How about a little test? Hmm? A pop quiz.”

Whisper hesitated a moment and, sensing that Samantha was waiting for an answer, whispered, “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Good girl.” She reached behind Whisper and started to unbuckle the collar holding her up. “No running, now.” The collar came free and Whisper gasped, breathing freer, but stood still. “On your knees.”

Whisper silently knelt, her eyes cast down. Samantha stalked around her, watching her prey. “Do you know what I’m going to make you do?”

Whisper nodded, double forward as if trying to scrunch herself into the ground. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Are you going to hesitate?”

“No, Mistress,” Whisper told her.

Sam stepped around in front of her, positioning her sex in front of the girl, who bent low with her head down. “Look at it,” she commanded.

Whisper looked up, shaking.

“Make me come.”

“Why am I doing this again?” Lorelie asked. They had led her to the window display, holding her arms as she made tiny mincing steps in the dress, and bound her wrists high above her to a bar like the one the slave mannequin was bound to.

“Because I don’t want you squirming too bad when I pierce you,” Jan told her, pulling a pair of huge needles out of her leather satchel. “If you move too much, or flinch your arms into the way, you’ll get hurt.”

“Besides,” Lianna told her, taking up position behind her and holding her by her hips, “you’re as beautiful as any of our mannequins here. You deserve to be on display, don’t you? I thought you’d find it erotic.”

“Yes,” Lorelie whispered. Oh, gods, yes. She was squirming her hips in delight at the sensations pounding through her. The feel of the dress as she’d made her way here, the cool air on her breasts, the shortness of breath from the corset, and most of all, the dampness pooling inside her rubber panties. The idea of being on display in the window like one of these incredible mannequins was driving her crazy with need. She wanted to run off somewhere by herself and masturbate furiously.

“Good,” Lianna whispered as Jan pinched and pulled on one of Lorelie’s nipples, holding one of the needles at the ready. “Don’t move, now. Stay very still. Show me you can do that.”

Her breath was heavy, her chest beginning to heave with anticipation. “Steady,” Jan cooed, holding the end of the needle to her nipple. Without warning, she flicked her wrist and drove it through!

“Aiii!” Lorelie gasped, lightheaded with pain and pleasure. She pressed her thighs together, her pussy quivering in aching need.

“You okay, so far?” Jan asked. Lorelie could only nod as Jan took hold of her other nipple and raised the other needle. Lorelie could feel the first needle, still in her nipple, and it felt so very good!

Jan drove the second needle home and Lorelie cried out. Her nipples were burning, her pussy shaking.

And then it happened. From the second nipple, a trickle of blood slid down her breast, and Lorelie came, screaming up on her toes, her head thrown back and her pierced nipples thrust out.

She came back down to earth, practically hanging by her wrists, and let herself be held by Lianna. Her world swam in pleasure and she wanted it to never end.

“Well,” Lianna mused, “that was fun.”

“Not much time, now,” Jan answered, picking up the golden chain and sliding one of the needles out of its nipple.

“What do you mean?” Lorelie asked in a whisper.

“Shh, now,” Lianna cooed. “Just stand up straight and stay very still as we finish.”

Jan pulled the needles free and slid the ends of the chain in their place. When she’d finished, she leaned down and licked Lorelie’s breast clean of the blood, making Lorelie shiver. She could feel the weight in her nipples as her chain moved. Jan stepped aside, and she could see herself reflected in the shop window. “I’m beautiful,” she gasped.

“Yes, you are,” Lianna told her, running her hands over Lorelie’s body and up to her breasts. Lorelie watched the chain tremble as she breathed. The feel of the woman’s hands on her flesh was paradise... but something felt off about it. “And you will be forever.”

Her breasts were firmer – a thousand times more deliciously more sensitive – but firmer, harder, stiffening. “What?”

“Shh,” Lianna cooed, Don’t worry, it’s just the lotion. Now that you’ve orgasmed, it’s finishing its job, making you as timeless and immortal as your new sisters, here.”

“Oh... god...” she whispered. Her jaw set, unmoving. Her lips swelled to clit-sucking dreams and blossomed open in an ecstatic ‘O.’ The tip of her tongue reached out and licked her oh, so sensitive lips and stayed there. She could still see herself in the window’s reflection, hanging from the bar overhead, her chest thrust out and her eyes were shining bright, like glass. Her breath was slowing, getting heavier.

“Another immortal beauty on display,” Lianna whispered to her. “You’ll never grow old, you’ll never wither, never fade. You will know pleasure for all eternity.”

Fuck! Lorelie screamed in her mind. Yes! Lianna ran her fingertips lightly across the underside of Lorelie’s breasts and slow, pulsing orgasm swept through her. Her body never moved, though her vision swam. She came back down and looked at her reflection, her skin electric and tingling as it hardened into shiny perfection, and she was truly beautiful. Forever.

“Mmmm, such a good girl,” Samantha was cooing as she grasped Whisper’s hair in her clenched fist. She was coming down from her second orgasm at the slave’s mouth and looked down at her now. Whisper’s mouth and chin were coated in Samantha’s fluids and her eyes were puffy and red from too much crying. “Would you like your reward now, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress.” she whispered back.

“Stand up,” she told her as she hauled her to her feet. She dragged the bound girl to the edge of the tent and faced her out. “If I think, for one second,” she told the slave as she unlocked her handcuffs, “that I can catch up to you, you will never be free of this place again. Do you hear me?”

Whisper looked back at Samantha in shock, rubbing her sore wrists.

“Don’t stand there looking at me, damnit! RUN!”

The girl turned and ran, disappearing around the end of the alley in moments. Sam watched her go as the slavers came to her side. “I felt like letting her go,” she told them.

“She was your slave to do with as you liked,” Red shrugged.

“It has no bearing on our record.” Boots added.

“It’s not really my style.”

“Of course,” Red told her. “Ours is a patient craft. It takes time and dedication. You are a dominant, to be sure, but you need to find your own art form.”

“Go out into the Park and find it,” Boots told her, “and when you do, we only hope that you come back to us for materials.”

Samantha grinned. “Oh, definitely.” She turned to look over the three bound slaves, sliding her hands lovingly over the body of the rope slave, who shook and cried in frustration. “At the very least, I want to pick up this one when she’s broken.” She tugged on the crotch rope, pulling it up and down, and the slave squirmed, dancing on her toes as Samantha slid her fingers into her bruised and weary sex, rubbing the rope against her clit. The slavers smiled and watched as Samantha coaxed the slave into orgasming up on her toes and whimpering in shame.

Sam kissed the tears that slid down the slave’s cheeks. “She’s going to be fun.”

She turned and shook the slavers’ hands. “Good hunting, Sister.” Red told her, and Samantha walked out of the alleyway and out into Eros Park, looking for her place in this new world.