The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tori stirred awake. In the bleariness of half-consciousness, she rolled over in bed and opened her eyes. Or at least, she tried to. She found she was unable to roll—something was restraining her. She pressed her back into the bed, trying to push up from the mattress, but realized she was not lying flat. She was sitting, with her back against the headboard, and both of her arms spread wide into a ‘y’ shape, with her wrists tied and holding her in place.

Through groggy eyes, she surveyed the room. It was not her bedroom, where she had fallen asleep. It looked like a cheap hotel room, but unlike most other hotel rooms she’d been in, the two beds were not parallel to each other with their headboards sharing a wall. Instead, both double beds were facing each other, with their headboards on opposite walls, and on the bed across from her was Tori’s sister, Brooke, tied up in a similar manner as Tori.

“Brooke,” Tori spoke. “Brooke!”

Her younger sister opened her eyes, looking as disoriented as Tori felt. She was starting to wonder if the two of them hadn’t been sleeping a regular sleep—if they hadn’t been slipped a “sleep-aid.”

It was dawning on Tori in the back of her mind that both she, and her younger sister, had been kidnapped. But she wouldn’t let herself dwell on it; as always, when Brooke’s wellbeing was on the line, Tori’s number one priority became taking care of her sister, at the cost of all other considerations. She couldn’t afford to freak out. She, at least, had to get her sister safe. Then she could freak out.

It was an impulse left over from when Brooke was much younger. Being raised by their single father had left most of Brooke’s care to Tori, and even though Brooke loved to remind her that she was 19 now, and almost a twenty-year-old, to Tori, Brooke was still unbearably young and innocent. When she looked at her sister, she still saw the scrawny twelve-year-old wearing an old pair of their mother’s high heels too big for her feet, or the 15-year-old whose wrists were still too small to keep her bracelets from sliding off. Even though Brooke dressed much older than her age (mostly because she stole clothes from her 26-year-old sister’s closet—still) to Tori, Brooke was still her younger sister, who needed to be protected from the world. And especially needed to be protected from kidnappers.

“Tori?” Brooke said, looking around, and pulling at her restraints. “Where are we?”

“I think we’ve been kidnapped, Brooke,” Tori said, in as calm of a voice as she could manage. “But it’s gonna be alright—we’ll get out of here. I’ll get you out, anyway, I swear.”

Brooke’s eyes widened, and her face flushed red in fear. “Are they going to harvest us for organs, Tori?”

Tori swallowed and tried really hard not to get caught inside that question. “No. They aren’t going to do anything to us, because we’re going to escape. If you—If you lie all the way down, and stretch your legs out, can you touch the end of your bed with your feet?”

Brooke had always been quite a bit taller than Tori, a nuisance which had suddenly transformed into a blessing she was thanking anything she could for. Brooke had hit her growth spurt at around 14, but it hadn’t made her look anymore grown up. Just taller, longer, more gangling. But now this meant that her legs were long enough that if she pulled herself forward, she could get her toes around the edge of the mattress. She looked like a bizarre gymnast, with her arms spread eagled, and her body hanging in the air over the bed.

“Great,” Tori said with a sigh of relief. “If you can reach the end of the bed, try walking your legs all the way to one side.”

Brooke’s brow furrowed in concentration, and she twisted her shoulders into an uncomfortable position, but after a few seconds of struggling, she had herself lined up, and she got her legs all the way to the left side of the bed—and not only to the edge this time. Her legs hung off the side by a solid few inches.

Tori scanned around the bed, and noticed for the first time a bed side table next to it on the right hand side. And to her relief, on the surface of the end table, there was a pad of paper next to the phone—and a pen.

“Ok, Brooke, we’re going to get out. If you twist yourself the opposite way, can you reach the end table? If you can—try and grab the pen on it with your toes.”

Understanding sparked in Brooke’s eyes, and she contorted herself more difficultly than before—she twisted herself until her chest was almost flat against the headboard, her left shoulder bulging awkwardly, but she got her legs in line with the end table, and stretched—three inches—two inches—one inch—she could reach.

Relief washed over Tori. She sagged downwards into the bed, causing her bonds to pull painfully at her shoulders. She didn’t care. Brooke had gotten her toes around the pen—all those years of cheerleading and dance lessons had come in handy once again. Even as Tori was sagging forwards from the headboard, Brooke was skillfully twisting herself around, and drawing her foot towards her hand in an elegant contortion no one but a girl who had mastered the splits at the age of 6 could have pulled off—and the pen was in her hand.

Brooke had caught on to Tori’s train of thought, and she was roughly stabbing at her restraints. It looked like some kind of halyard or plastic-coated rope, but Brooke was stabbing it with determined intensity, and the plastic was breaking and splintering into tiny pieces. And then Brooke was working the pen back and forth through the material inside, fraying it, causing it to break; and her right hand was free.

“Just get your left hand,” Tori said, the first hints of fear licking at her. Now that Brooke was so close, almost safe, she was nervous. They needed to be uninterrupted for the next 2 minutes. Just long enough for Brooke to get out of the hotel room, and down to the front desk. She could call the police for Tori from a place of safety; but Tori just needed to get Brooke out of the room.

With one hand free, the task was easier. Brook split the plastic again, and then she was stabbing and pulling at the material with her fingers, and then gloriously she was free.

She rose off the bed in one fluid motion, and she was already crossing the room with the pen to get to Tori.

Tori shook her head violently. “No, Brooke. Leave me. Get out of the room before they come back. Go down to the front desk and call the police—you need to get out!”

“No,” Brooke snapped, kneeling on the bed, grabbing the restraint around Tori’s left hand. She pulled it taught, and began hacking at it with the pen with an insane fervour in her eyes.

“No, Brooke!” Tori hissed, trying to kick Brooke away with her legs. Of all the times for her sister’s stubbornness to present itself, it had to be now. Of course it did. Brooke was painfully strong headed when she wanted to be. It had made Brooke’s tween and teen period a very interesting 10 years, but if there was ever a time for Tori to pull the big-sister/surrogate mom card, it was now.

“Brooke, I am not kidding,” Tori spat. “If you do not leave this room, and march yourself to the front desk and call the police, I swear to god—I will punish your 19 year-old ass. I will confiscate your property like you can’t even imagine—I will spill embarrassing secrets to all of your friends, I will make your life a cringy hell; so for the love of god, get out of this hotel room!”

“If I don’t take you with me, you won’t be around to do any of those things,” Brooke said, her voice flat. She was still cutting through the plastic coating—her hands were fumbling with the pen, and the plastic on this rope wasn’t cracking or coming off as easily. Tori looked to her sister, and saw tears in the corners of her eyes.

“They aren’t going to kill me, Brooke,” Tori scoffed; but it was almost a lie. She had not idea what they, whoever they were, might do to her in the time it took the police to show up. She was promising something that she had no idea was true. She didn’t care. She would worry about that when Brooke was safe, but Brooke wasn’t safe, and Brooke needed to be safe—

“You’re my sister, Tori, I’m not just going to leave you to suffer who knows what!” Brooke said, her voice clipped. “I love you.” She wouldn’t meet Tori’s eyes, keeping her own fixed on her task, trying desperately to chip more of the plastic coating away. It was only coming off in tiny flakes.

“I love you, too, Brooke. But if you love me, you will leave me here, and go to the front desk!”

Brooke swallowed, looking back at Tori, finally stopping her attempt at releasing her. “Okay,” she said, and her voice was so small, Tori just wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be okay, even if she didn’t know if that was true or not. But instead she just said, “Go.”

Brooke got off the bed, and Tori’s heart was in her throat for the 5 seconds it took her to cross the room to the door. Then the door opened, and shut behind her, and Tori could breathe again. It didn’t matter what happened now—she didn’t care what happened to her; didn’t care if they were going to harvest her for organs, or if they were going to turn out to be serial killers, because Brooke was not going to be their victim. Brooke was free. Tori squeezed her eyes shut, tears of relief pricking them.

She kept her mind empty, and sat on the bed in silence. Part of her was desperately hoping that the police could arrive before her kidnappers returned; part of her was trying to prepare her in case they did return first; part of her was accepting that she might be about to die, or at least be seriously injured. She could make peace with that—she’d had a lot of success in her life; she’d had a successful career to date, and had wonderful friends, but her greatest achievement and pride was that her sister had turned out so well. And that, her greatest legacy, was safe and intact.

The door opened, and Tori steeled herself to face whoever had kidnapped her and Brooke. The police are coming, the police are coming, she reminded herself, opening her eyes, and waiting for her captor to come around the corner of the entrance way and present themselves.

Her heart stopped. A breathless cry croaked out of her, but it died, soundless, in her throat before she could give any volume to it.

They had caught Brooke in the hallway. Her sister’s hands were once again tied, this time behind her back, and a gag had been stuffed into her mouth. On either side, she was framed by a woman, both of them wearing strange white latex body suits. Each woman was holding on to one of Brooke’s arms. Just behind them stood another woman with dark red hair, older, wearing a slim fitting black dress.

The two women—guards?—shoved Brooke down, to sit on the edge of the bed across from Tori’s, and stood on either side of her, boxing her in.

Brooke met Tori’s eyes, an imploring look in her own. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—

Tori couldn’t help but wonder if the 5 minutes Brooke had spent trying to free her would have made a difference.

But she couldn’t think about that now. Brooke was back in the room, which meant only one thing—all her brain power was once again focused, and only focused on getting her sister back out of it again.

“Well,” the older woman said, coming to stand over Tori. Tori resisted the urge to spit on her, with difficulty. “I must say—you’re more resourceful than any girl I think I’ve ever abducted before. I’ve never once had an escapee before tonight. Using the pen—genius.”

Tori frowned. “You saw? But how did you—?”

The woman smiled, sitting down on the bed next to Tori. Tori instinctively pulled herself away from her. “I have cameras in this room. I did underestimate you, I’ll admit it. I thought the dose I gave you and your sister would have kept you out longer; and I took it for granted that the two of you would respond the way my victims most often do; hopelessly thrash around for a long time, until they’re too tired to even sit up properly. Once you’ve done a hundred abductions, and seen 99 percent of them follow the same script, you forget that things can happen unexpectedly. But I’d like to thank you for surprising me. You’ve shown me that you deserve an altered process, and inspired creativity in me. I really do want to thank you for that.”

“What are you talking about?” Tori asked, bewildered.

“My process, clever one. I abduct girls, and convert them into my slaves. I don’t keep them all of course—what would I do with one hundred plus sex slaves? But I can sell them for a pretty penny; and I keep my favorites. I have to tell you, I can already say you’ll be one of mine.” The woman stroked Tori’s cheek tenderly then, and Tori fought the urge to vomit.

Human trafficking. Why had she and Brooke thought of ‘organ harvesting’ before they’d thought of human trafficking? Her panic was at sky high levels Brooke could not—could not—be trafficked. Anything to prevent that—anything. Brooke was still a virgin, for god’s sake. She wouldn’t stand idly by and allow her little sister to be raped.

“I’ll do anything you want,” Tori said, evenly. “Just please let my sister go.”

The woman laughed, her laughter like the peal of a bell. Tori wished she could slap her across the face.

“I noticed that about you, too. It’s rare to see a pair of sisters who care for each other as you two seem to. Why, my two guards there are technically sisters. But let me tell you, when I abducted the pair of them, they couldn’t betray each other fast enough. Be careful what you promise me, however—you might find yourself unable to follow through.”

Tori swallowed. “I’ll do anything you want,” she repeated. “Just let my sister go.”

“Hmm,” the woman said, apparently thinking it over. “Well, I’ll need to hold her as collateral, you see. Until I’m certain of your loyalty. But I think, if your compliance is satisfactory, there’s no reason not to release her. Of course, you’ll have to earn it. Girls?”

The two women standing on either side of Brooke moved, approaching Tori. Their hands were on her then, stripping her naked, cutting at her clothes to get them off in spite of the ropes. Brooke’s eyes met Tori’s again. She raised an eyebrow. Do I run for the door?

Tori swallowed again. It killed her, it absolutely killed her—but she shook her head slowly. So far the woman had done nothing to harm Brooke—she would give anything to keep it that way. If Brooke made another escape attempt, and failed, she couldn’t protect her. This woman seemed capable of a vindictive streak. Tori didn’t want to be proven right about that.

Brooke nodded once, and dropped her eyes.

The two guards—slaves?—finished their task, and Tori was naked on the bed. She was grateful that Brooke wasn’t looking at her, now. It felt humiliating to be stripped down to nothing like this.

The two of them silently returned to stand over Brooke again, an unstated threat that rang loud and clear to Tori.

“Well,” the woman said, an air of delight about her. “You have quite a lovely body for someone with such a plain face. Clearly the beautiful facial features skipped you and went to your sister.”

Tori felt dirty under her captor’s glance. She stared at the ceiling, but even so, she could feel the woman’s eyes on her skin.

“Now, Tori,” The woman spoke again, coming to stand directly over her, and in the path of her line of sight. “We’re going to play a little game. You are going to hold perfectly still—you will not shiver. You will not twitch. You will barely even breathe or blink. Perfect, absolute stillness. For every movement, or accidental shift, my loyal companions there by your sister will remove an article of her clothing. Once she is naked, they will perform an escalating series of sex acts on her. Would you like them to violate your sister, Tori?”

Tori clenched her jaw, fighting tears. She shook her head, stiffly.

“Then you will hold perfectly still. I’m going to set a timer here, for one hour. If you have held perfectly still for all that time, and your sister still has at least one article of clothing on her body, I will let her go. Am I understood?”

Silently still, Tori nodded her head. She tried very hard to look past the woman standing over her to keep her eyes on the stucco of the hotel ceiling.

“Wonderful. Then let us begin.”

Tori kept her eyes on the ceiling, even as she heard the clicking of the woman fiddling with the timer to set it.

“Ready? And your hour starts—now.”

Tori exhaled one last time, settling herself into the bed. She could do this. One hour, and Brooke would be safe. She ignored how much her shoulders were already aching. She stiffened against the headboard, squared her hips, and inhaled.

The woman touched her.

Everything in her was screaming to curl into a ball, to jerk away from the woman’s touch. The impulse was so powerful that the hair on her neck was tingling, and shivers were coursing down her back. Her body wanted to shake from the repressed defensive energy she was holding back, but she wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t move one inch. I’m doing this for Brooke. The only thing that matters is that she gets out of here.

What she wouldn’t have given to bite down on her lip to try and ease the tension—but she dared not even do that. She focused on her breathing, focused on breathing as shallowly as she could, so it was barely audible.

The woman’s hand was caressing her face, gently sliding down her neck, and finally reaching her right breast. She felt her face flush. She kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, though she felt them water. “Brooke... please close your eyes—please don’t watch.”

She allowed herself to look down, taking special care not to move her chin accidentally. Brooke’s face was turned away, so all she could see was her sister’s blonde ponytail, but she could tell from her sister’s shoulders that she was crying.

Tori whipped her eyes back to the ceiling. The tears gathering in her eyes spilled over, but she forced herself to freeze, and hold still.

The woman was palming her breast now, gently rubbing her nipple with the centre of her hand, coaxing it to become erect. Tori wanted to shiver. She wanted to kick out and scream. The conflict between every muscle in her body wanting to jump free and pull away from the contact, and her, reining them all in, was unbearable. She was already sweating, and the room wasn’t even hot. She had never held so much pent up energy in her body, bursting, screaming to get out. It had never felt so unbearable to be motionless.

The woman didn’t seem to be in any rush. She continued the gentle coaxing of Tori’s nipple, the only sound in the room the ticking of the timer. How long had it been? One minute? Two?

The woman added a second hand, softly drawing Tori’s second nipple erect with the rubbing of her other palm, and then she was rubbing them both in time, to the same rhythm. They were starting to ache.

The first tell-tale trickles of lubrication came, then, and Tori hated herself. She could feel them, oozing down her slit, and soaking into the bedspread beneath her. Her body, despite the deep nausea she felt, despite her muscles twitching to jump away and get out of this woman’s reach, was becoming aroused. An evil woman that she hated—that was threatening her sister, the person she loved most in the entire world—was having that effect on it.

It’s just a physical response, she told herself. But a few more tears leaked free.

The ache had spread to her breasts now, and seemed to be sinking deeper by the minute. She had never felt this kind of ache of desire in her chest before—she hadn’t known a feeling could sink so deep into them. With every steady rubbing, every jolt of ache and need, the woman was driving it to the very roots of her breasts, and the feeling was indescribable. Beneath all the tension and anger and fear, it was opening up a bud of pleasure in her, drawing it out from the deepest depths of her womb. She hated it.

“That feels better, doesn’t it?” The woman cooed. The sound of her voice grated on Tori’s nerves, made that desperate, jumpy feeling worse. She just wanted to get away, she just wanted to—“I’ll bet you never imagined you could feel arousal sink so deeply into your body, did you?” Her captor asked, maintaining her steady rhythm. “I’ll bet this feeling just makes you wish you were bent over on all fours, being fucked in the cunt like the slut you are.”

The crude language made Tori’s cheeks burn hotter. She’d never been with a lover who spoke so crassly. It only made her embarrassment worse.

“Oh yes, can’t you just imagined getting ploughed right in the cunt, feeling it digging right into your cervix, while your tits get milked for all they’re worth, like the milk-bags they are?”

If looks could cut, Tori’s eyes should have been carving the hotel ceiling a new one. Her eyes bore into the stucco, desperate for any distraction. She was just going to have to start counting lumps. There was one. And another—and another—

“You can picture it now, Tori,” The woman spoke, smoothly. “On your knees, where you belong, supporting yourself on your hands. Your tits hanging down, aching like they’re aching now. Panting for it like a bitch, while I drive my strap-on into you over and over, and you beg me for more.”

I’m doing this for Brooke, Tori thought again. She refused to think about what was happening to her. She refused to even think responses to the woman’s awful words. She was doing this for Brooke. And there was another lump in the stucco, and another, and another...

“And one of my slaves is standing there in front of you, milking your tits with her hands while I drive into you, and another one is lying beneath you on the bed, tonguing your clit over and over. Because I’m making them do it. Because they only live to serve me, and you only live to serve me. And it is my will that you be overwhelmed with pleasure, again and again—and so you are.”

The image was disturbingly vivid, and she could feel herself lubricating more. The bud in her womb was opening, sending out petals. The feeling of pleasure beneath all her humiliation and rage was getting stronger. One lump in the stucco—a second—a third—

“I’ve got quite a few different sizes of strap-ons as you can probably imagine, Tori.” Brooke is going to be safe, Tori thought. She is going to be free, and safe. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. One stucco, two stucco, three stucco, four...“They’re all specially made for me. Sometimes, I get ones made new, just so they plug the cunts of my slaves like I want them to. For the slaves I really like, I arrange fittings, so the dildo I’m driving into them is shaped, molded to sheath itself in them perfectly. It’s the tightest fit you’ve ever had in your life. I only work with the best.”

The deep, aching need had fully consumed Tori’s breasts. It was rapidly taking possession of her lower back, and lower abdomen too, and drilling down into the centre of her womb, to meet the unfurling bloom of pleasure already there. Tori stiffened her body imperceptibly to brace against the feeling. Surely it had to have been at least ten minutes—maybe twenty? Just over a half-an-hour left... Brooke was still fully clothed; Brooke would be safe... it was the only thought she would allow herself to think. She couldn’t face what was happening to her.

“I look forward to having you fitted. It’s quite an experience. Hands groping your pussy, slipping inside, measuring in finger widths, pressing and probing every inch, every corner so there is no hidden space left unclaimed. All my slaves love it, that feeling of being completely plundered, every vestige of privacy stripped away. Slaves love to be on display, Tori. You’ll be a natural, with the way you’re lubricating so beautifully for us all to see.”

For us allto see?Brooke wasn’t—Brooke couldn’t be watching. Once more she dropped her eyes.

Brooke waswatching. She didn’t look happy about it. But one of the two women was holding her head steady so she could not turn it away, and the other was holding each of her eyelids open with a finger. Tori dared to look in Brooke’s eyes; and saw anger. I’m going to get them. I don’t know how—but I’m going to get them for doing this to you.

Tori returned her eyes to the ceiling, trying to keep the humiliation and panic from consuming her. One stucco. Two stucco. Three stucco. Four stucco. Five stucco. Shallow breaths. Shallow breaths. Hold perfectly still.

“Let’s see just where your cervix sits, why don’t we? And spread you open for your sister to see, hmm? I’ll bet it sits low. You’ve got the hips to match that placement.”

The woman pulled Tori’s legs apart, until she practically had her doing the splits. She was on anatomical display now, she was sure. Shallow breaths, she reminded herself. Six stucco. Seven stucco. Eight stucco.

“Oh, Tori. You are so wet and ready for me already. I knew you’d be a new favorite. You’ve lubricated perfectly, just like a good slave would. You’re a natural. You were born to be a slave.”

Nine stucco, Tori counted. Ten stucco.

The woman’s fingers entered Tori’s vagina. It took everything she had not to jump off the bed at the contact. She could feel the woman driving back, probing deeper, in towards the pleasure, towards that ache. Her fingers stopped, having come up against something.

“I was right. Your cervix is nice and low. Oh, the custom dildo you’re going to be fitted for is going to be so unbelievably good. It’s going to be indescribable. I’m thinking one with two heads might be nice. You know, one would pound right into here—” The woman stroked along her back wall, to demonstrate. “And the other would be on the bottom, and it would stab into you right—here.”

In perfect time with her last word, she pressed into Tori’s cervix forcefully, and Tori clenched her teeth for dear life. That was right where the ache was—where the need was, where the pleasure had been lying in wait for her like a predatory animal. It was too deep within her; everything above it was only a shell that was going to break off and flake away; all the tension in her muscles, all the pain and anger and rage in her heart. That perfect point of pleasure was the truth. And with that one touch, its enclosure was broken, and she could feel the pleasure coming to take her, radiating outwards from that central point.

It was an orgasm like none she had ever had, and it took her thoughts away. The only thing she held onto was the need to be still. Resisting the orgasm’s pull, its attempts to coax her muscles into spasming took all the strength she had, and caused her great pain. She had to strain herself to keep still, and it did nothing to reduce the pleasure washing through her; if anything, it intensified it unbearably. But she was still—she was still—Brooke was safe...

“Ah, impressive,” the woman acknowledged. “You have very strong willpower to be able to hold still through that. But did you know something? I’ve already taken ownership of your mind, when you weren’t looking.”

At this outrageous claim, Tori dared to look at the woman’s face. She wore a bemused smile, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Tori could feel her rage stirring again. “You’ve done all my work for me—practiced perfect compliance, and forced every resistant part of you to obey me. You’re mine for the taking, Tori. You’ve enslaved yourself to my will with your own mind, more thoroughly than I ever could have done. And of course, the compliance will sink deeper and deeper into you, and eventually take complete control of you; but you’ve shown me you can be a very good girl when I ask you to be.”

At that moment, Tori heard the timer buzz. She dared not move—but she... she had done it. She had made it. Brooke was... Brooke would be...

“You can move now,” The woman encouraged, and Tori released the unbearable tension she’d been holding in. She sagged into her restraints again. “Girls, you may escort Brooke back to her home. We will not take her with us tonight.”

Tori dared to close her eyes then, bracing against tears. She’s safe, she’s safe, she’s safe...The door closed behind the three of them, and she and her captor were alone.

“As for you,” The woman said, caressing Tori’s cheek again. “I’m going to have a lot of fun breaking your will entirely—or rather, watching you use that incredible willpower of yours to break your own will. And you just look so cute when your cheeks are burning in humiliation. So I’ll let you in on a little secret. Later, when I’m fucking into you with that special dildo of mine, and my slaves are working your tits and your clit with their hands and mouths—there’s going to be a very special fantasy playing in your head, over and over again. Do you want to know what it will be?”

Tori shook her head.

“I’ll tell you anyway. While you’re being so thoroughly and completely used, like the good little slave you are, you won’t be able to stop yourself picturing teasing and torturing your sister, just like I teased and tortured you. You’re going to seduce and enslave her, and I’m going to watch. And that is the fantasy your mind will be caught in, as I fuck you through orgasm after orgasm.”

“You can’t—” Tori hissed. “I won’t—I’d die before I—”

The woman clapped a hand over Tori’s mouth. “There, there. It won’t be for awhile. I can tell it’s going to take much time and effort to bring your mind fully under my control. But we’re going to have so much fun in the meantime. And after all, while I was fucking you just now, weren’t your thoughts only of your sister? It won’t even be all that different, really.” The woman gave her a nasty grin, then, and removed her hand from Tori’s mouth.

“So it was all for nothing then? You lied to me?” Tori asked, her voice sharp and cutting.

“I didn’t lie, Tori, dear.” The woman smiled at her again. “I told you your sister would be safe. And she will be perfectly safe at your old home, until it is time to bring her to you. And then, after that—where in the world could she go that would possibly be safer than my service?”

“I’ll never give in,” Tori spat. “I’ll never stop fighting you.”

“Oh, Tori,” the woman said, with a tilt of her head. “A part of me really does hope that’s true. It’s been ages since I’ve had a challenge like you.”