The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

And then we were five! Prita was my Christmas present to my beloved Mistress and yes, love really is what it is all about. Just because that love was sparked by the effects that an electronic computer produces within a human brain does not make it any less real than that springing from the random impulses and electro-chemical reactions originating deep inside an organised lump of phosphorus fat which is what that brain actually is. Thinking about it, and yes I can still think, I believe that our machine-induced form of love is much more pure because it is designed to be unconditional and is not marred by any of the corrupt ulterior motives that normally pervade and distort ‘natural’ human love.

In effect my love for my Mistress is a form of religious devotion: She is my Goddess and I worship her. In other words, my love for Anjika is total and because of this I was more than content to give her the beautiful woman who was actually my fiancée. Is your so-called ‘real’ love as intense as that?

It took under three days to change Prita into Mistress’s devoted slave. She was already a sexually-submissive lesbian which meant that the only major change that the machines needed to make was to implant an undying and overriding love for Mistress: a task that only took until Boxing Day. I will always remember her look of awe as I led her by the hand into the presence of her new Goddess. Mistress Anjika was seated in the Front room chatting with her other two slaves and sharing a bottle of wine with them.

As I brought Prita in she wasn’t the only one to gasp, Mistress did too. In fact Anjika’s mouth fell open as she stared at her new slave’s slim and athletic naked body. She instructed her pet to stand in the middle of the room and then walked slowly around her, examining her from every angle.

She smiled to me, chuckled, and said. “Would you believe me, Siobhan, if I said that this is the first time that I have ever seen another Indian woman naked?”

She reached out and stroked Prita’s skin, which was slightly darker than her own. “She’s magnificent, isn’t she?”

She then ran her fingers through Prita’s raven-black hair, which was bobbed off at ear level. “Does it have to be that short for work?”

Prita hesitated. “N-no, Mistress.”

“Then you are to grow it longer.” Next she stood behind Prita and stroked her arse before reaching around and cupping both breasts. “Too small: they just won’t do. Siobhan, make an appointment at the clinic... Make sure that it’s convenient for your new slave-sister... But I want her to have DD’s just like the rest of my pets!”

I clicked into ‘Controller-Mode’ as programmed. “Is that advisable, Mistress?”

Anjika’s smile faded as she turned to face me. “Explain.”

“She is a police officer, Mistress. Breasts that size would produce lewd comments and could get in the way when she is on duty.”

Mistress nodded and turned back to her new toy. “Perhaps you are right, Shiv.” She thought for a moment. “C’s would be a better idea.”

Suddenly she spun the Indian woman around, reached up to pull her head down before kissing her passionately. The kiss started gently enough and both of them had their eyes closed but as things became more passionate with Mistress fondling Prita’s breasts her eyes sprang open and her expression suddenly changed to one of surprise: no doubt she had discovered Prita’s exceptional tongue. Needless to say, the rest of Boxing Day was spent on Anjika’s large bed and Prita didn’t get her new clothes for quite sometime afterwards.

The bed would have been crowded if all of us slaves had accompanied Mistress, five adults would strain the capacities of even a king-sized bed, after all. But no, Emily and Jasmine needed to get on with some urgent housework, and someone had to keep their eye on the woman in the basement. So it was just Prita and I who accompanied Anjika into her bedroom. As it turned out I was there more as an observer than a participant for Mistress quickly became smitten by her new plaything.

I could tell that she was excited by the way she left a trail of discarded clothing as she scampered along the hallway and up the staircase. By the time that we arrived on the first floor landing, she was naked save for her black boots.

Once inside her room she scrambled up onto her bed and knelt there before lowering her chest down onto the mass of pillows that lay at the head so that her shapely arse stuck up in the air. Then when nothing happened she shuffled her knees further apart so that her little pucker was displayed in all of its glory.

Prita looked puzzled but I knew what it was that had been the trigger for her enslavement so I helped her up onto the bed and gently eased her head down until it was only inches from that glorious rear. She shuffled around to get comfortable before stroking and kissing one of Mistress’s arse-cheeks, then, tentatively, her beautiful tongue slid out and gently licked the waiting arsehole.

“Oh!” Anjika gasped. “That’s a good girl! Now show me what you can do.”

Prita smiled but when she changed position and began licking Mistress’s nether lips, I stopped her. She frowned and looked confused until I re-directed her attention back to the waiting rosebud.

She gave a smile of understanding before licking it again causing Mistress’s hips to jerk. Was it pent-up expectation or did She have a very sensitive rosebud? Honestly I do not know but it became pretty obvious over the coming weeks and months that Mistress Anjika was really responsive to anal stimulation.

When Prita began in earnest she started by licking all around it for several seconds before spitting on it and teasing it open with a finger which she pushed in and used to work the saliva into the pucker. Mistress jiggled appreciatively and squealed in excitement.

Prita slipped her finger out and her tongue in, right in! Anjika gasped with surprise and momentary discomfort and I saw her pucker twitch in reflex. Slowly, Prita withdrew about three-quarters of the organ before thrusting it back with lightening speed.

“Jesus Christ!” Shrieked Mistress, which was an odd thing for a Hindu to shout when in the throes of a passion generated by someone else of the same faith. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck my arse, fuck it good!”

Prita obeyed and did just that with each thrust of her magnificent tongue eliciting squeals and moans from our Beloved. The hips began to buck more and more so Prita hugged one of her thighs to anchor herself against being thrown off. She clamped her lips over that beautiful arsehole which she was tongue-fucking like an expert.

Suddenly Mistress screamed and jerked as she orgasmed but Prita clung on like a good ’un and carried on and on and on. Orgasm followed orgasm followed orgasm as Mistress shook with ecstasy and screamed louder than I had ever heard her before. Each orgasm causing her beautiful pussy to twitch in sympathy and drip its nectar down onto the pretty floral duvet, may be it was jealous?

The frantic ride lasted until Anjika gently folded sideways onto the bed and lay there gasping. Prita released her grip and straightened up to kneel at her mistress’s side, her own pussy dribbling its juices down her legs demonstrated just how turned on she had been by their intimate sexual dance.

Eventually Anjika rolled over and sat up. She smiled at us both. “Thank you for the wonderful Christmas present, Siobhan, I never thought that a tongue could bring so much pleasure when used that way. We’ll have to find out what else she can do with it.”

This we did over the following weeks but as far as Mistress was concerned Prita was just too good at one thing and so ended up using it exclusively for rimming whenever they were intimate.

It took rather longer to process Rebecca, the career-woman who had thought that she was renting a room in a normal household. It turned out that she had a very low sex-drive and that the system had to spend a couple of days increasing her libido before beginning to enslave her. It did this quite successfully and another horny submissive lesbian slave was eventually created. Both Prita and Rebecca looked fetching when dressed in the same style as the rest of us, not that the Indian slave-girl wore her blue skirt and white top all that often as Mistress liked looking at her body.

It turned out that not only had she never seen another Indian woman naked before enjoying that wonderful Boxing Day romp, but it was also the first time that she’d had sex with a lady whose ancestors came from the same sub-continent.

Prita wasn’t the only slave with a speciality: Anjika had discovered that Jasmine was seriously good in the kitchen and really enjoyed cooking too. The rest of us did the housework and gardening while she did the bulk of the catering. Needless-to-say; we all enjoyed the fruits of her labours.

The New Year started off cold and wet and Mistress began planning for the future. Dr Dryden’s ‘guidance’ proved to be crucial in this regard and everything that happened from this point on was probably a direct result of her ‘advice’. She visited us every few weeks, usually bringing Helen/Andromeda along with her and although the latter usually remained silent, she seemed to be looking at and listening to everything so I suspect that Wendy was using her as a personal recording device.

I still did not trust Dr Dryden and I didn’t like the way that she always seemed to look astounded whenever I spoke without being instructed too. But when I came out with an opinion she looked positively astounded.

“Anjika, dear,” she said using her most annoyingly silky tone, “don’t you think that it should be conditioned again but at a much higher setting? If pets have too much autonomy, it can result in them becoming unhappy.”

Well I was unhappy but with her condescension, not with my status. I was also unhappy about the depersonalization to which she subjected me. I was a woman not an “it”, for fuck’s sake.

Anjika’s response was cool. “Siobhan is my best friend and I value her insight and opinions.”

Dryden shrugged and said: “Whatever!” Her voice was very dismissive so: perhaps she also resented Anjika’s ability to hold an opinion contrary to her own?

And all of the time Andromeda’s eyes were everywhere and I suspected that she was memorizing the conversation word for word. I suspected that Dryden had originally left the woman with more free-will and autonomy than she was currently permitted and this had resulted in friction or problems. Helen/Andromeda had been her childhood friend in the same way that I had been Anjika’s. What was it that had happened? Did the slave attempt to escape or had she just criticised or disagreed with her owner one time too many? I never found out but suspect that she thought that I would go the same way. Fat chance of that! Anjika was nothing like Wendy Dryden: Anjika was considerate while the Doctor was self-serving. My loyalty was not dependant on any electronic machine’s circuits; I doubt if Andromeda would say the same—if she was allowed to think for herself, that is.

No, I didn’t trust Dr Wendy Dryden and I did not trust any of the software that she had provided. But that wasn’t all, for something seemed to be preventing me from voicing my fears or even just criticising the woman. I had tried many times, either in Dryden’s presence or in private; the result is always the same, my voice doesn’t work and my face smiles happily. Aaaargh!

If Mistress ever requests my opinion of the woman or any of her suggestions, the result is that I automatically say something that satisfies Anjika but I retain no memory of anything that I have said which is worse than frustrating. Similar things happened when I checked the software that is needed to operate our network and condition Mistress’s girls. There are gaps in my memories of my investigations and again I cannot recall anything that I said to Mistress regarding said investigations.

Oh, I was deeply suspicious alright but I was also impotent to say or do anything about it. Aaaargh again!