The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mira: A Slave’s Story

26 — Smiley Face

The Corporate Lords were dictators. As a group, however, they were not unaware of the benefits of a free press. So long as ultimate authority rested in them, they could endure criticism, and in the meantime the rest of society would profit from the uninhibited access of information and opinion their reign provided. Practically speaking, what this amounted to was that while the fate of the former Corporate elite Mira Lockard had not been greatly publicized, neither had it been suppressed; and eventually Louise the bioslut learned of her previous name and identity.

How is irrelevant. It was the irrelevancy itself that was important. Louise had not sought out the information. As a bioslave, she held no curiosity about such matters. Neither had her beloved Owner, Darrel Hampton, chosen to share this tidbit with her, whether to enjoy her humiliation or seek her advice about some matter. In all the time he had owned her, the matter had never even crossed his mind, she knew. It was accidental, the revelation of her previous existence, and it occurred some six years after her Master’s acquisition of her, after six years of sucking his cock, riding his member, serving his pleasure in all things, and loving every moment of it, every bit as much as her bioslut sisters Lana and Laurel did. Louise was reviewing a list of names her Master’s housecomp had provided for a party, and along with the details of their individual sexual peccadilloes, available to the slaves so that they could plan and maximize the pleasure her Owner’s guests would receive from herself, Lana, and Laurel, there was a brief mentioning of those elites who would be unavailable to attend; and it was here that Louise saw the name and brief biographical information for a “Mira Lockard.” The dates of her confiscation and processing meshed with what Louise knew of #FB34-3. Many of their vital statistics still matched.

She recalled her designation in the brothel, “Mira.”

Louise’s head had tilted slightly to the left as she had absorbed this information, the glow of the holofield data shining in her face. I was this Mira Lockard, she processed internally. She was the base biological from whom I was resequenced.

This information duly acknowledged, Louise then continued with her review of the list and her orgy planning. She thought no more about it that day. It was a good orgy.

Later, weeks later, following the artificial protocols embedded in every bioslut, to confer with her fellow slaves periodically so as to bring about greater pleasure for their Master, and so as to serve him better through their Obedience, Louise brought the matter up to Lana and Laurel, to gain their input.

“I love the Master,” Louise said, as they massaged one another in their preparation chamber. Their discussion as it then proceeded did not interfere with their oiling and licking, in those intervals their mouths were not being used for other purposes. “I have learned that before I was a slave I was a Corporate elite named Mira Lockard.”

“I love the Master. What was the crime committed by this former mistress?” Laurel was the one who spoke, her fingers inside Louise’s pussy and manipulating her clitoris, her goal being a level 39 orgasm.

Lana’s mouth was pressed onto Louise’s left nipple.

“The former mistress committed no crime,” Louise said. Her own hands were busy working at and inside Lana’s anus. Their positioning was complex. “She grew addicted to an erotic mutagen called ‘O’ and succumbed, as any user of an erotic mutagen must inevitably succumb. She eventually passed the legal threshold for enslavement and was confiscated. I am the resultant bioslave.” Neither of her sisters bothered to ask her if she might be mistaken. Bioslaves didn’t make those kind of casual errors.

Lana freed her mouth long enough to declare, “I love the Master. This information is irrelevant.” She then resumed her ardent sucking.

“I love the Master. But I disagree with your assessment. If the Master were made aware of my pedigree, then several opportunities to exploit Mira Lockard’s embarrassment and downfall would present themselves.” In their sexual training, there were entire books worth of scenarios involving humiliation play. “The Master would be pleased.”

“Your thinking is flawed,” Laurel told Louise flatly. Slaves almost always spoke to one another so bluntly, unless there was a sexual scenario being played out.

“State your objection.”

“It is this. Your argument is based on the premise that Mira Lockard was an important individual. She was not. She was merely another free female who was turned into a sex slave.”

“Yes, precisely,” Louise said. “Her humiliating fall could bring pleasure if the Master were made aware of it. He could torture me well, psychically and emotionally. I do not comprehend your objection.”

“I shall explain. Are you a free person, Louise?”

Louise’s blank, pupil-less eyes blinked, once. “No. I am a bioslut. I am a mere XTC pleasure unit.”

“Are you important in any way?”

“No. I am a slave.”

“What is your function as a slave?”

“My function is to bring exquisite pleasure to my Owner and Master. My function is to Serve him through my Obedience. This exchange is pointless, Laurel. I know I am a slave.”

“Your comprehension will be momentary. You are a slave. Ergo, you are not Mira Lockard. There is no Mira Lockard. Mira Lockard no longer exists. Consequently, her humiliation no longer exists.”

There was the briefest of pauses in Louise’s fondling of Lana’s ass. “I . . . I comprehend. The Master only purchased a sex slave. He did not purchase a sex slave that had formerly been a free person. That was only happenstance.”

“Yes,” Laurel said, between licks. “As a slave, you cannot be humiliated. Since Mira Lockard no longer exists, and therefore cannot be humiliated, either, there is no particular potential for humiliation present in the revealing of your pedigree to the Master. He bought you for your pussy, your mouth, and your breasts. If the Master had wanted a slut to debase, he would have made those arrangements already.” Louise did comprehend. There were many humiliation scenarios that she would have enjoyed fulfilling for her Master’s pleasure, yet those scenarios could just as easily be played out with any bioslut fulfilling the role of the debased. Laurel could play “Mira Lockard,” or any other fallen Corporate, just as easily. So could Lana. The fact that she had once been a Corporate elite truly was irrelevant.

If it didn’t matter to the Master, it couldn’t matter to her, either.

“I understand now,” she said, and did, truly. “If the Master had wanted to own Mira Lockard for a particular reason, then he would have made my purchase with that in mind. Instead, he named me Louise.” It was not unheard of for Corporates to buy their own fallen peers, especially if they had been rivals in some way. It was an enjoyable practice, and from what she herself had learned of her previous identity, this was exactly what Mira Lockard herself had once done. She had owned a bioslut named ‘Marlene,’ who herself had once been a fellow Corporate named Marlene. But no such intricate degradation had been intended for her.

All I am for my Master is a slut and a slave, Louise processed.

Unexpectedly, she felt warmth at this thought, a general loving warmth that had nothing to do with either Laurel or Lana’s manipulations. All I am is a set of holes for the Master to stick his cock in, she thought. All I am is a mouth to suck his cock, a pussy to clench about his penis. Who I was, who I am, is meaningless. That is the way it should be.

“I am a slave,” Louise—the former Mira Lockard—declared. That’s all she was, all she ever would be.

Her rightful place. That was her story, and all to her story.

And she smiled.

END (Ch. 26 of 26)