The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

June 1. Lauren’s Journal

I’ve got to stop Emma.

I went to the coffee shop near my office today and I saw Tayler, but I was horrified at how she dressed! She was wearing a body-hugging black mini dress that only went a few inches past her butt, and black, high-heeled ankle boots with wide straps all across them. She had a purple mini saloon girl hat on her head, and her hair was in a messy bun. Strangest of all were her gloves. They appeared to be vintage black lace wedding gloves, with lace frill around her wrists. The gloves had beautifully intricate patterns, but they seemed like something out of the Victorian age!

A barista announced, “Kitty, four large iced coffees,” and Tayler snapped to attention, going to pick up the drink. When she turned around, she noticed me and nearly dropped her coffee.

“Mom??” She started blushing.

“Tayler? What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s the dress code at Madaa—I mean Miss Lisette’s office.”

“That’s really inappropriate. Why did he call out Kitty instead of your name?”

“It’s the name Miss Lisette has me use when I do a drink order for the office, so I can’t mess it up...” she murmured, afraid to meet my gaze.

“Tayler, this is too weird. She has you dressed like you’re going to a sexy Halloween party and you’re just the office coffee girl? I’m going to talk to Emma...”

“No, you can’t! I love doing this. Please don’t upset Miss Lisette,” Tayler pleaded.

“Tay—”

We were interrupted by her phone ringing. She pulled out the Blackberry from her tiny purse.

“Hello Madam” she spoke into the phone.

I was shocked! The person on the other line spoke for a while, while Tay nodded. Then I noticed the lettering on the back of her phone. It read, “Tayler Mercier, PROPERTY OF MADAM LISETTE” in letters big enough for anyone to see!

“Tayler, is that Emma on the phone?” She nodded reluctantly, “Pass it to me, I want to talk to her.”

Tayler handed me the phone.

“Emma, why do you have my daughter dressed like a fetish model fetching you coffee? And what’s up with her phone? I am really not liking what I see here.”

“Lauren, it’s nice to hear from you! Listen, Tayler’s about to come back to the office to give me my daily foot massage. Why don’t you come back with her and we can discuss all of this?”

I was speechless.

“Emma, Tayler isn’t some shop girl you can just order around. I—”

“Listen, Lauren, I have a client on the other line so I have to go. Just head over. And could you pick up a cake pop for me? Chocolate caramel. Thanks, see you soon!” Then she hung up.

I handed the phone back to Tayler, noticing her phone’s strange wallpaper. Were those Emma’s feet in the poster on her wall?

For some reason, I picked up a cake pop for Emma before we left. The walk back to her office was short and I tried to make conversation with Tay, but she didn’t respond very much. She kept her gaze down, mortified, as men and women openly gawked at her.

When we got off the elevator to Emma’s office complex, Tayler had to go around delivering coffee to people. I had never noticed, but nearly all of Emma’s employees are young, beautiful women. As Tayler handed each one her coffee, she would address them as “Miss Brittany” or “Miss Naomi,” but they would barely acknowledge her. We tried to get into Emma’s office, but she was on the phone still, so her receptionist made us wait.

After waiting more than half an hour, I was angry. The only reading material she had was girly magazines like Seventeen and Cosmopolitan and when I tried to use my cell phone the receptionist scolded me and told me to give my phone to her! I was going to tell her off but Tayler interrupted me and told me to do what Miss Noelle asked. I clenched my jaw as I walked over and put my phone in the young girl’s hand. Noelle smirked and put it in her desk, then went back to looking at clothes online. She looked like she was barely out of high school.

There was no way for me to know how long I was there, but it seemed like another hour before Noelle let us into Emma’s office. Emma was seated on her black leather sofa, with her legs stretched across the length of it. Tayler took off her gloves and sat on a cushion on the ground, near Emma’s feet. She put some expensive looking lotion on her hands and Emma lowered one foot to Tayler, who dutifully began giving her a massage.

“I’ll take that cake pop now, please,” Emma said, holding out her hand. I felt like some dumb servant as I gave her a treat while my daughter debased herself. Emma motioned for me to sit on a small circular ottoman, which was set lower than the sofa. I frowned as I sat on the frilly pink thing and had no choice but to look up to her.

“Emma, I don’t want Tayler working here anymore.”

“How can you say that? Don’t you see how happy she is here?”

I looked at Tayler. She had a small grin on her face—I couldn’t tell if she was faking it.

“It’s not about that. I think she is doing inappropriate work, and that you are exploiting her.”

“Lauren, Tayler is exactly where she wants to be!” Emma countered. “Tayler, have you discussed your plans with your mother?”

Tayler grimaced for a moment, then caught herself.

“Mom, I want to work permanently as Madam Lisette’s personal assistant. I don’t want to go to college anymore. It would just take away from my time here.” Tayler said, as though she were reading from a script.

I glared at Emma, then laughed.

“This is a joke right? You can’t be serious, Tayler.”

“I am serious, mom. This is my life now and there’s nothing you can do to change it,” she said while staring at Emma’s feet in her hands.

My eyes lit up in anger, and I tried to keep my composure.

“Listen Emma, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I won’t let my daughter be your... assistant. That is not happening.”

Emma only smiled. “I thought you’d feel this way. So, I have an offer for you.” Emma said, looking down at my daughter rubbing her feet. “If this is so intolerable, I’ll give you a chance to stop it. All you have to do is play a game against me in tennis. If you win, I’ll fire Tayler and never speak with her again.”

I stared at Emma.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“Good question,” Emma replied, pulling her feet away from Tayler. She turned her body to face me. “If I win, then you have to let Tayler stay as my subordinate for as long as she wants. And you will also have to come work for me for a day.”

I gave her a thin smile.

“You’re on, Emma. Of course, I don’t think we will be friends anymore, after I win the game.”

“We’ll see, Lauren. Now will you show yourself out? I have a lot of important work today. Let’s set the game for tomorrow after work. 6PM?”

“Perfect,” I answered, and got up to leave. Tayler gave me an inscrutable look before I walked out.

It will be no problem beating Emma tomorrow, so I’m not really concerned. It’s just confusing to me why Tayler wount want to work for Emma so badly. She never seemed that interested in her before...

June 2. Lauren’s Journal

I’ve lost everything.

The tennis game was completely one-sided. I’ve never played against someone as good as Emma was. She seemed to move twice as fast as she normally does, and she had perfect control over the ball. I remember games were usually close between us, but this time there was no contest! The worst part was that she had Tayler act as the ball girl, running around fetching tennis balls while Emma looked on. I didn’t even notice the choker around Tayler’s neck until after the game.

“What the hell Emma, did you do steroids or something?” I yelled at her after I lost the first game. She only smiled back.

“I won the first set, Lauren. Just two more and you’ll be one of my employees. I think I’ll have you stand outside and spin a sign while you wear a costume. Do you still have that yellow bikini?”

I flared my nostrils, determined to win the next set. This time I scored a few points, but it seemed like Emma was just toying with me. She won the second set by smashing the ball so quickly I couldn’t even react.

“Lauren, if you surrender right now, I’ll make it easier on you. What if I promise to pay you 25 cents over minimum wage and give you a nice sun hat to wear? I don’t want your skin getting sun damaged!”

I rolled my eyes. “Save it for yourself, I know how easily your pale skin gets sunburnt!”

She narrowed her eyes and smiled a wicked grin. In that brief final set, she seemed to be on fire. I didn’t score a single point, and she would hit the ball towards my feet in such a way that I had to jump aside instead of hitting it back. I was utterly humiliated. Tayler looked on with furrowed brows.

“I win, Lauren. Tayler is mine,” Emma taunted, her hands on her hips.

“I’m tired of humoring you, Emma. Tayler can quit whenever she wants, you don’t own her. And I’m not working for you, either! Come on Tayler, let’s go.”

Tayler stayed exactly where she was, but gave me a very sorry look.

“Tayler, come over here, I have a treat for you!” Emma said. Tayler walked over to Emma with her head downcast. When she got to her, Emma took the gum she was chewing out of her mouth and put it in my daughter’s mouth! Tayler grimaced, but obediently chewed Emma’s used gum.

“That’s enough, Emma! This ends now!” I stepped over the net and dropped my racket. I was ready to kick her ass.

“No, Lauren. This is just the beginning. Tayler, explain what’s going on to your mom.”

Tayler, her forehead contorted with worry, turned to me.

“Mom, please stop. I can explain everything.”

Tayler explained about the symbiotic creature that Emma had tricked her into wearing, which was now the purple choker around her neck. It sounded ridiculous, so I advanced on Emma to fight her. Then, with a snap of her fingers, Emma caused the choker to tighten around Tayler’s neck so she couldn’t breathe! I frantically tried to loosen it, but it seemed like it was melded to her skin! I wanted to scream for help, or to kill Emma, or to do anything except for what I did next.

“Ok Emma, you win! I’ll do anything, just stop choking her!”

Emma snapped her fingers again, and Tayler gasped a deep breath of air. The sound of her breathing, heavy at first, flooded my heart with relief. I was so relieved that I temporarily forgot about my anger at Emma.

“I’m sorry, mom!” Tayler sobbed.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” I stroked her head.

“Lauren, I don’t enjoy doing that. I just needed to demonstrate the power I have over Tay. Do you understand now?” Emma said.

“Yes...” I responded.

“You need to know if you disobey me, it will end badly for her,” she said, pointing to Tayler. “If I want to, I could have her turn tricks at a strip club, or work as a lingerie maid for some seedy company, or make her into a bareback porn star and have her send the videos to everyone we know.”

“How could you do this? Don’t you have any morals?” I said, on the verge of tears.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Emma said in a shaky voice. “I think this thing has changed me... I know I should feel bad right now. But really, I’m feeling great!”

Emma brightened up and gave a cheery smile.

“I’m just looking forward to the things you’ll be doing for me, from now on! Really, Lauren, I couldn’t be happier right now, thanks for asking!”

I gave her a puzzled look.

“In fact, you shouldn’t feel too bad for yourself, either. People have suffered much worse than you will. Did you think you were immune from suffering just because you’re beautiful, or rich, or hardworking? Nope, sorry! You lived a good life, and now you’ll live at my beck and call, at my feet, for as long as I want. Oh, that reminds me. Tayler, chair!”

Tayler got on her hands and knees behind Emma, who sat on her back. Emma slipped off one of her tennis shoes and her sock, then crossed her foot over her knee. I could see she had a piece of plastic wrap stuck to the sole of her foot, and some kind of white thing smushed beneath it. She peeled off the plastic wrap, and carefully removed the gum stuck on the sole of her foot.

“I saved this piece of gum just for you! So you won’t be jealous that I gave some to Tay,” Emma said, daintily holding it out for me. I glared at her, but she was completely unperturbed. Slowly, I reached out and took the gum from her, putting it in my mouth. Somehow she remembered my most hated flavor of gum: Big Red.

It tasted a little salty and stale but not especially bad, considering everything. Emma slipped her shoe and sock back on as I chewed on her stick of gum.

“Chew that for an hour or so, then you can swallow it. Work starts at 8AM sharp tomorrow, be at my office by then or I’ll have to punish you! Come along, Tay!”

Tayler got up and left without making eye contact with me. I stood on the court, chewing Emma’s gum, deeply afraid of what lies ahead.

June 3. Lauren’s Journal

I stood on the sidewalk in front of Emma’s office today for 8 hours holding a sign. The sunshine was bright and fierce, and all Emma allowed me to wear was a yellow bikini and flip flops. She specifically told me to hold the sign across my stomache, so my boobs and bikini bottoms were exposed. The sign read, “Ask me how Emma Lisette, Esq. SPANKS the competition!” Plenty of people took photographs, which Emma demanded that I smile for. Worse, though, were the guys who took it as an invitation to flirt with me.

At least she gave me sunscreen so my skin wouldn’t get damaged.

Per Emma’s instructions, I had to be polite and flirty with anyone who talked to me. If a guy talked to me, Emma told me to offer him a free consultation if he agreed to slap my ass on film. I lost track of how many people took advantage of it, and Emma demanded that I always take the same position: bent over the sign, with my face turned toward the camera, and an blissful smile on my face. She instructed me to gasp in pleasant surprise each time I got spanked, or there would be trouble.

Randomly, about every hour, a girl from Emma’s office would come down to check on me. Each one of them would be chewing a piece of gum, which they would take out and put in my mouth. It was always Big Red flavored. At noon, Noelle came down and gave me a bottle of water, but it was only half-full and someone had obviously been drinking from it. Still, I was grateful.

At 4 P.M. I went up to Emma’s office, drawing stares from everyone in the building. I asked ‘Miss Noelle’ for permission to see Emma. She offered me the rest of the water she had on her desk—only a couple of sips but I was so desperate I took it anyway. I could hear her laughter as I walked away.

When I entered her office, Emma was seated in a new chair. It looked like a lavish throne, and must have cost thousands. Tayler sat on a small cushion by Emma’s feet, wearing a humiliating parody of her volleyball outfit. Tayler had on an ornate gold choker around her neck, and a small chain attached her choker to the right arm of Emma’s throne. Emma rested her bare feet on Tayler’s thighs, and Tay seemed to be giving her a pedicure.

“Hey Lauren! Good work today. I’m going to make a compilation video of all the spankings you got. I heard you were really popular!”

I bit my tongue.

“You could thank me for paying you. Tay here is an unpaid intern! Blow on my toes to help them dry now, Tayler.”

Tayler blushed, but lowered her face to Emma’s feet to blow on her toes.

“Oh, speaking of that, I have your paycheck here,” Emma said, getting a check from a small table to the right of her throne. I noticed a narrow punishment strap lying on the same table, like the ones schoolmistresses used to spank students back in the old days.

When Emma handed me my check, it was attached to a piece of paper. On the paper was a black footprint pictured in extraordinary detail—the artist took care to draw every crease in the sole. I frowned.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

“That’s going to be your new tattoo! It’s my footprint. I’d like for you to get it on your back, behind your right shoulder. It should be visible whenever you wear a backless dress, or even a tank top. Tayler’s going to get my other foot tattoed on her left shoulder.”

I seethed inwardly, and resisted the urge to shout at her. She must have noticed my clenched fists, though.

“Don’t be so upset, at least I’m giving you some money to pay for it!,” she said, referring to my $50 paycheck. “Tayler has to put her tattoo on her credit card!”

Emma dismissed me shortly after, with strict instructions to get the tattoo this evening. Tayler hasn’t been home in days, but aparently she’s still going to school because I haven’t gotten any truancy notices. I am scared to think of what Emma has been making her do...

June 12. Lauren’s Journal

Things keep getting worse. Now I have a criminal record, and I’m about to lose my business.

Emma invited me over last night to see my new tattoo, since it’s nearly healed. When I knocked on the door, Tayler opened it for me, dressed as a sexy Roman slave girl. Her toga barely reached past her butt and her top was V-cut to the middle of her boobs. She wore gladiator sandles and had a beautiful silk shawl around her shoulders, gradient with white at the top and vibrant pink on the bottom. Wordlessly, she motioned for me to follow her.

Emma was dressed as Aphrodite—similar to Tayler but Emma was barefoot and wore a Laurel crown. She had a large pot by her red divan, and held out her glass. Tayler reached into the pot and got a ladle, filling up Emma’s glass. Emma drank and, to my surprise, swished the wine around her mouth a little bit then turned towards Tayler. Emma spat the wine into the metallic pot Tay was holding, then turned towards me and smiled.

“Tonight is wine tasting night! Your turn, Tay.”

Tayler, with only slight hesitation, brought the metallic pot to her lips and drank Emma’s backwash. Judging by her body language, she had been drinking for a while—she seemed off-balance as she sat on her little stool. I snorted.

“I saved plenty for you, Lauren,” Emma said, motioning for Tay to get something. With sad eyes, Tayler handed me a large metallic pot full of wine.

“It’s a blend of several different wines, from when the girls at my office went wine sampling with me. We all spat into the same container and I figured, why should it go to waste? Oh, you definitely want to try this wine, though. Hand me that pot!”

With a sinking feeling in my stomache, I held out the pot. Emma took a big gulp of wine, swished it around her mouth, and spat it into my pot.

“Try it,” Emma commanded.

I raised the pot to my mouth and sipped. It tasted like a sangria that you’d find at a college party, with too many flavors to pin down one. As I swallowed it, Emma made profound eye contact with me.

“You’ll need to finish that by the time you leave here, so keep on drinking. If you don’t, I’ll have Tay show up to school with a bottle of vodka.”

I glowered at her, but took another drink from the pot.

“Thanks for working for me last week. You actually got me a handful of new clients from that little project. How’s work going with you?”

“Terrible. I can hardly focus anymore, and my clients can pick up on it. My business is starting to get a bad reputation.” I admitted, taking another deep drink of wine. It slowly started tasting better.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I know someone who is interested in aquiring your real estate business. Jocelyn Kim over at Shoreside Realtors wants me to make you an offer on her behalf. Tayler, go get the documents.”

Tay rose to her feet unsteadily, and walked into the house. The color drained from my face as I read the contracts she brought back.

Emma is making me sell my multimillion dollar company for a small fraction of its value. I will have to step down as president, and eventually leave the company altogether. Since Emma ‘brokered’ the deal, I must give her 85% of the money from the sale. At Emma’s direction, I am paying all of the taxes on both ends of the deal, so I’ll end up paying money to sell my company at a tremendous loss. The worst provision, though, was the one that called for me to take on a new job.

While the companies merge, I will become a Junior Assistant, whose job is to facilitate all my old clients to work with Shoreside Realtors instead of me. I will report directly to Jocelyn Kim, the haughty bitch I’ve been competing against for the past several years. Additional responsibilities include fetching coffee, making copies, taking snack orders, answering the phones, and light cleaning. My new pay will be $8.50 an hour.

“Emma, this is absurd! How can I afford to live? Even if I worked full time, I couldn’t pay my mortgage.” I slurred a little bit, having drank several cups of wine as I read the contract.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have another person interested in buying your house,” Emma said with an awful smile.

The rest of the evening was a blur. I think I blacked out, but I know that I’ll be selling my house and giving almost all of the money to Emma. In return, she will allow me and Tayler to move in with her.

The next thing I remember, I was being pulled over at a stop sign a block away from Emma’s house. The officer immediately noticed how much wine I had drank, and arrested me for driving under the influence. They towed my car, and I didn’t have enough money to get a cab when they released me in the morning so I had to take public transportation home the next day. It was an utterly humiliating walk of shame, especially since Emma told me to dress in my nicest cocktail dress last night.

When will this all stop? There must be some way out...

June 20. Lauren’s Journal.

Somehow, Emma got my DUI mugshot to go on the front page of every local newspaper. The country club cancelled my membership, and I had to re-apply as Emma’s junior member, which means I can only go there along with her. She’s had a wonderful time treating me like her servant at the country club, and the women there openly make fun of me. Emma insists that I take it in good humor, and offer them menial services to help pay for my ‘legal troubles.’

Since I have no money after paying Jocelyn to take my business, I allowed Emma’s law firm to represent me in court. I honestly would have been better off letting a talking parrot argue my case—she got me the harshest punishment imaginable.

The only thing her firm ‘helped’ me with was allowing me to keep my driving license—but only as long as I am acting as Emma or Jocelyn’s chauffer. On the day I went to take my new DMV driver’s license photo, Emma wanted to practice boxing and accidentally punched me in the eye during a sparring match. So in my new photo I have an obvious black eye, which Emma finds hillarious. To thank her for taking the case, Emma insisted that I gift my prized BMW over to her, so now I don’t even have a car. She has me clean and detail the car every week, and I must ask her permission to use it.

My new job as Junior Assistant is about as demeaning as I expected. Jocelyn talks down to me like I’m a child, and has a never-ending list of menial chores for me to do. One my first day she had me take down every ad I had up in the city to have them replaced with one of hers, which she also made me design. She has my desk in front of her office, so people treat me like her receptionist. To top it off, I have a kneeling chair which gives me the sensation of always bowing to people. She only allows me to use those girly gel pens to write things down, in frivolous colors like teal and pink. Emma has criticized my handwriting, and encouraged me to write more like a ‘high school girl,’ which people at Shoreside Realtors find very amusing.

Time at Emma’s house is worse. She insisted that I become her maid since I am unable to pay her rent. She has several humiliating costumes for me to wear, and has shown a particular fondness for the schoolgirl, the hipster artist, and the gymnast. She has a voracious sexual appetite, and I’ve spent hours on my knees before her, coaxing her to more orgasms than I can count. Thankfully, she seems to dislike incest, and she’s never tried to have sex with me and Tayler at the same time. Still, she does enjoy having us both dote on her in every other aspect of life.

Strangely, Tayler isn’t around very often—I see her for maybe one day a week. She’s usually with that girl Tiffany from her volleyball team, following her around like some devoted fangirl. Tiffany looks like she thrives on the attention. I always disliked that tall bitch...

June 22. Tayler’s Journal.

Tiffany is much crueler than Madam Lisette ever was.

Madam Lisette told Tiffany about the symbiote when she noticed how sadistic the girl is, and Tiffany wasted no time establishing her dominance over my life. When Madam Lisette saw how we got along, she decided to let Tiffany take over my life completely, so now I pretty much live under her rule.

She knows how to make the symbiote do things that never occured to Madam Lisette. One day, she had it reform into a pair of realistic cat ears. When the ears appeared on my head, I had an irresistable compulsion to get on all fours. As long as they were on, all I could do was crawl around and act like a cat. I couldn’t even speak, all I could do was ‘meow,’ or make an embarassing attempt at purring. I couldn’t move my fingers individually or grasp anything—my hands were stuck in the open position, like paws.

For some reason, the cat ears made me very affectionate towards Tiffany. Even as I consciously hated her for making me do it, I rubbed up against her leg, begging for her touch. She scratched behind my ear and I rubbed my face against her bare foot, lovingly, and licked her calves. To complete the scene, she had me lap water out of a bowl, and eat raspberries out of another bowl without using my hands. This is usually how I eat now. She had me write a list of all the foods I liked and didn’t like, and she feeds me all the things I dislike. It’s a lucky day when she doesn’t mash my food up with her bare feet to ‘help with my digestion.’ After I ate, she showed me to my bed.

It is similar to a dog’s bed, but larger. And it is filled with her used socks. She has dozens, maybe hundreds in there in all different varieties: her volleyball socks, little ankle socks, and argyle ones.

“Ok little Tayler, I have to go be captain of the volleyball team now. While I’m gone, I want you to stay in this bed.You can sleep a little, but I mostly want you to play with the socks, I put them in there for you! Lots of toys for little Tay-kitty to pick up with your mouth and rub up against for hours and hours. Here, let’s play fetch!”

Tiffany picked up a black ankle sock from the bed and threw it across her room. I bounded after it, picking it up in my mouth, and dropped it at her immaculately pampered feet. She laughed.

“Oh Tay, I like you so much better this way. I’ll need to make you into a girl when I get back though, because Rhonda and Jackie are coming over for massages. But I’ll grab all the girls’ used socks after practice, and dump them on you to play with! Won’t that be fun?”

I meowed. Tiffany stroked my back with her bare foot, and went away, leaving me to look at the little prison she had designed for me.

Tiffany is much crueler than Madam Lisette.

She put up photos of me on the wall near my bed, at my eye-level. They are photos of me playing on the volleyball team, standing triumphantly with trophies, and a newspaper article written about me in the school paper. I couldn’t read any of the words (somehow, the cat ears took away my literacy), but I knew exactly which article it was. There are photos of me in my old life: hanging out with friends, and surfing, and playing tennis.

There is a large mirror set on the ground, near the bed, so I can look on as I humiliate myself for Tiffany’s enjoyment. Close to the bed was the volleyball from the final game I played with the team. Tiffany took it home that night, as a sort of trophy. I couldn’t read the lettering at that time, but I remembered that it said “LOSER” in big text. Tiffany makes me treat it like a safety blanket, and carry it around with me as much as possible. When I am a kitten, she has me play with it like a cat toy, which she mockingly calls “playing volleyball.” When I am a girl, she rests her feet on it while I paint her nails.

She rarely has me go to school anymore, which is just as well. After the volleyball game, I spent a humiliating week at school with Tiffany. She expected me to spend every lunch with her doing all sorts of bitch work. It started with simple things—she wanted me to peel her oranges, or to carry her books, or to braid ribbons and fresh flowers into her hair. Within a few days, she would have me massage her feet or her shoulders for all of lunch, or to leave school to go buy her an expensive sushi lunch from a restaurant. Other students began noticing our relationship, and I became a laughing stock for most of the campus. Even my former friends on the volleyball team started treating me like a servant, and ridiculing me at the same time.

Volleyball, once the highlight of my day, has become a humiliating ordeal. At each practice, Tiffany makes it clear that I am at her beck and call. If a ball goes astray, I am always the one who has to run and bring it back. Tiffany and Rhonda enjoy making me bring them towels when they are sweaty, and drinks when they are thirsty. The outfit Tiffany makes me wear is more embarassing than I could have imagined.

Tiffany loved the idea of the symbiotic volleyball shorts, and they’ve become a big part of my wardrobe. Except now they say “Tiffany’s” in pink cursive script over the center of my pelvic region. My top is just a scandalous sports bra, seemingly made of a sexy, lacy material. It has impossibly thin straps going around my back and shoulders and the only reason it doesn’t fall apart is because it is also a symbiote. Tiffany figured out how to split the organism into several pieces of clothing.

For the duration of practice, I run around barefoot (Tiffany does not allow me to wear shoes during practice, to show my lower status), dressed like a total slut, doing servile, pitiable things for unappreciative, spoiled girls. To make things worse, I’m getting groped and felt up the entire time by my symbiotic clothes.

On the first day of practice, Ana wanted a foot massage to relieve a cramp. She was going to wash her feet beforehand, but Tiffany ordered her not to, to save more time for practice. This started a trend, and now girls expect massages instantaneously without even having to wash up first. While I massaged Ana’s feet, I admired the pedicure I had given her—Tiffany doesn’t allow me to wear nail polish. I have also, at Tiffany’s direction, I studied ballet so I can assist the girls by helping them do partner stretches on their feet. I admit that it’s a good idea—it has really cut down on the amount of injuries on our team. Weirdly, I’ve become very acquainted with each of the girls’ feet and have started to admire a new sort of beauty in their toes, arches, and soles.

I work less often at Madam Lisette’s office now—she seems to be busy with my mom. Instead, Tiffany has worked out a plan for me to attend cosmetology school. Additionally, she had me transfer out of all my college prep classes and into classes like Home Economics and Figure Drawing. The worst change, though, is that since I’ve left the athletic team, I had to transfer into a basic Physical Education class. Tiffany gave me specific instructions to be the worst at every sport, so now I suffer humiliating losses every schoolday. I am always last pick, standing with a pleading look towards the team captains with a stupid diamond piercing in my nose.

Madam Lisette suggested I pay for my cosmetology the classes on the awful credit card she gave me. Needless to say, I couldn’t make the payments on Madam Lisette’s debt, so they took away my trust fund and I owe more than $15,000 now. Every day it gets worse, since Tiffany uses my credit card for whatever she wants as though it’s an unlimited source of money.

The team has been on a winning streak since I stepped down as captain. Tiffany soaks up all the glory, and downplays my involvement any chance she gets. She is slowly changing history, and erasing the fact that I was captain of the team from public memory. Still, in private, she takes a special pleasure from reminding me of my former status. The team plays for district champions in a week but I just I feel strange. Like I should have been leading the team to victory, instead of worshipping Tiffany’s socks while she gets all the credit.

But I don’t even think all of these socks belong to Tiffany. Since I’m so bored, I have nothing better to do than to carefully examine each sock: how it smells, its size, the shape of the footprint on it (if any). The organism enhances my sense of smell and touch, which helps me in my task. For some reason, it’s entertaining for me to rub my face on these socks, and to roll around in them.

Another change Tiffany made in the symbiote was have to part of it become a vibrating egg nestled snugly on my G-spot. It hums in a faint, erratic rhythm, keeping me mildly aroused as I work through Tiffany’s endless collection of socks, waiting for my Mistress to return.

August 15. Emma’s Journal.

Lauren and I got married today!!! I am the happiest woman in the world.

She was... resistant to the idea at first, especially when I showed her the pre-nuptual agreement I expected her to sign. But, love conquers all! By that I mean: she loves Tayler so much that she agreed to marry me so I wouldn’t sell Tay into the harem of one of our Middle Eastern clients. Tay would have looked so good as a harem girl, though!

Lauren and I were practically married already: she acts as my adoring, submissive little house wifey and I go out and bring home the bacon! Although she goes to work with me so she can be my bubble-headed office girl, I’m definitely the breadwinner in the relationship! That’s the the pre-nup was so important—I need to protect my assets. To be fair, we are talking about Lauren taking on another job so she can bring in more money. Maybe something like a waitress or a shop girl. It would pay minimum wage of course, and definitely be on the service side of the economy.

Ideally, we will get her a job with no power, no potential for promotion, and in a place where she will have to take orders from everyone. I had her apply at the shoe botique in the mall that we went to back in May. Amanda seemed very interested in having the once-haughty Lauren work beneath her. Fingers crossed she gets the job! I think it helps that I promised Lauren would give Amanda daily foot massages, and to offer the massages to anyone else in the store. Lauren looked positively furious when I told Amanda that she only had to pay Lauren four dollars an hour, and that Amanda could have whatever money she earned beyond that.

We are looking at other jobs, though. She applied at the Puffin’s frozen yogurt place in downtown. I would like her working there because that place hires almost exclusively high school girls and makes them wear provocative clothes as a uniform. At the same time, it’s in downtown so she would encounter a lot of the people she knows. I imagine how embarassing it would be for her to be ordered around by teenage girls in front of her former friends!

I told the manager that Lauren might be older, but she knows her place and would happily take orders from high school girls, and defer to their judgment. The other place is the Palisades burger restaurant near the mall. That job would be good because the girls there were gorgeous, but very catty. I imagined Lauren carrying around their lunch orders and fetching refills for their tables, then paying them the tips she got as a ‘thank you!’

Tiffany shared with me a way to make the symbiotes emit pheremones. I am especially interested in the pheromones that make Lauren more submissive and needy, and everyone around her more dominant and demanding. I think wherever she works she will fit right in as the bottom of the totem pole, the servant to everyone. Amanda even gave Lauren a ‘working interview’ by making her take her shoes off and massage her feet for a while. I’m getting off subject, though.

Tayler was at the wedding, of course! She is doing very well, but I don’t see her very often. I’ve pretty much given her over to Tiffany, since she pays Tay much more attention than I did. I was surprised to see Tayler’s new hairstyle—she dyed her hair jet black and got a cute, pixie style haircut. When I asked Tiffany about it, she said it was because boys were liking Tayler’s blonde hair more than Tiffany’s black hair, and she didn’t want to feel jealous of her servant. Once I looked at it, Tayler’s hair did look like a knock-off of Tiffany’s hair, but it still looked great. Tay was meek, pale, and her body had softened considerably—radiant Tiffany did most of the talking. I understand that Tay is doing well in her cosmetology classes. Tiffany even got Tayler a job at the nail salon across the street from the high school!

Since Tayler doesn’t have her cosmetology license, she has to work as an unpaid intern there, but she does all the work of a nail artist. She is even allowed to keep some of her tips, which she gives to Tiffany immediately after every shift. Tiffany got the idea of printing out hundreds of coupons for free pedicures from Tay, and distributing them at Costa Vista High School, Alma Beach High School, at the local colleges and the country club.

To make the salon owners okay with it, Tayler agreed to pay the $40 fee for each girl who came in and used her for a free pedicure. This way, the salon doesn’t lose any money. She might have made more money back if Tiffany hadn’t written “No tip required!” on the coupon, but it was a learning experience for everyone. Sadly for Tay, Tiffany didn’t put an expiration date on the coupons, and she didn’t prohibit girls from copying them for multiple free pedicures! Tay is booked well into the forseeable future.

Some days, Tayler works for 12 hours massaging girls’ feet and painting their nails, and she can make up to $200 in tips! As Tiffany tells it, though, Tay’s clients treat her very poorly. When girls have an appointment with Tay, they become bratty, spoiled and very mean. One girl made Tay redo her pedicure three times because she was unhappy with the color, then left her a five cent tip! I suspect Tiffany has been experimenting with Tay’s symbiote to get the girls to act like that, which I find brilliant. The salon keeps 80% of Tayler’s tips, and her personal debt continues to grow since she makes no effort to pay it off. Thankfully, she has Tiffany to take care of her.

Speaking of Tiffany, she is going to USC! She and Tayler got their admission letters on the same day, and opening them at the same time. Tayler was rejected from the university, but Tiffany was accepted! Also, Tiffany is getting an internship at the DA’s office in Los Angeles. It helps that she was the captain of the girls’ volleyball team when they won the state championship in California, and I also used my connections to get Tiffany in there. I think she’ll make a great attorney—she’s observant, innovative, and seems to have no moral compass whatsoever.

The wedding was beautiful. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but when I saw Lauren walk down the aisle in her beautiful wedding dress, I lost it. I actually let her pick out her own dress, so it would be her special day too. It was a massive wedding—we both invited everyone we knew or worked with so there were more than 300 people in attendance. Some of Lauren’s friends and family were surprised that she was marrying a woman, but when they saw how happy she was, they accepted it. The part that sticks out most in my mind, was our vows.

“Emma, you are the love of my life,” Lauren said at the altar. “I promise to love, honor and obey you. I will live to make you happy in every way I can imagine, and I will never get tired of serving you. I am so happy you chose me as your little wifey, I will spend the rest of my life showing you my gratitude, my humility, and my adoration for you.”

“I promise,” Lauren gulped, “to massage your feet whenever they get tired. I promise to do all the laundry, and care for the house, and cook for you, so you can go out and work. I promise to keep myself fit and ready for you, and to make you smile about life.”

Lauren was blushing furiously.

“I promise to kiss you like I’m a middle school girl kissing her biggest crush for the first time. I will be your devoted wife, and keep a beautiful home for you. All that I have is yours, I lay it beneath the soles of your beautiful feet.”

The preacher pronounced us Madam and Wife, and we kissed in front of everyone we knew. My heart overflowed with happiness as I heard the crowd applause, and we walked down the aisle together.

Now, Lauren lies asleep in our nuptual bed. Tonight, I licked her pussy—it’s something I’ve been doing more and more of. I guess I’m becoming a big softy! At the reception, I told Tiffany that she can keep Tay forever—to college and whatever else lies beyond. The only conditions were that she couldn’t pawn Tay off on someone else, or do something she knew I would disapprove of. She knows where the line is, and she’s been great at pushing Tayler to her extremes without crossing it. Tiffany was wildly happy—she adores the idea of having a beautiful slave girl to help her during college, and the money Tay will bring in is a nice bonus. Not that Tiffany needs it—her family is incredibly wealthy. I think she she enjoys the act of taking things from Tayler.

I can relate.