The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Brighton, England, 1999

Pet’s Story:

Time is short, the mission must be completed within the next week... beyond that, events have a momentum of their own, and it becomes beyond my ability to influence.

The house wasn’t anything special, a typical three bedroom semi-detached dwelling squeezed tightly between other identical homes.

Trouble was, I wasn’t the only one interested in the occupant; a couple of the local kids had been got at, they had that eager intent look that only slaves get… and they were watching like their lives depended on it.

Doubtless hearing that you look horrified, kids? slaves? You envision some sado-erotic version of the deep south with the poor boys dressed as French maids for good measure; It’s not like that, or rather it won’t be like that if everything works out the way its supposed to. To me the Mistress/Slave relationship is one of love and trust, weird huh? But then I grew up as a slave, I haven’t been free-willed for almost a decade and don’t particularly miss it.

Anyhow, the problem with the kids is that they almost certainly work for exactly the sort of megalomanic man-hating mistress who does get off on ordering boys to castrate themselves, the sort that if left to their own devices could cause the extinction of the male sub-species... Actually they could belong to one of two maniacs, both are equally bad news.

The original plan had been to just drive the outrageously customized car straight in, have a quick ‘chat’ with the daughter of the household, tell her that her favorite song is ‘Year 3000’ and then go home. The song is the key, as long as she ‘remembers’ in a few years that its a personal favorite things will work out fine.

Unfortunately with those slave boys watching, the direct approach was right out; I had to take the long way. Instead of just hypnotizing my target into thinking that I’m her next-door neighbor, I’d played the scenario out for real. I had had a ‘chat’ with a couple that had their house on the market, and then another ‘chat’ with the owners of the house next to the target.

Hey! I didn’t do any harm; the neighbors’ new house is identical to the old, just a block further north. I even managed not to change their sexual orientation.

So, here I am a month late and legitimate owner of 48 Locking Close; I am now officially her next-door neighbor, I even have deeds. That may not seem important to you, just trust me, it has to be that way.

So; who’s the target? Why am I interested? Why are ‘they’ interested?

Her name’s Treya Mistrisiaan, a bottle blonde eighteen year old girl, who thinks she’s about to go to University and study electrical engineering. I’m interested because I’m programmed to love her and because I have to make certain things turn out right. Think of me as a guardian angel, but with an attitude and tits instead of wings.

The surveillance is troubling; they shouldn’t be giving special attention to Treya, not yet. If I’m forced to capture one of those slave boys maybe I’ll ask who and why.

“We’re ‘ere darling” said the slovenly deliveryman, talking around his cigarette and breaking me out of my introspection.

“Y’all get it unpacked then” I replied getting out of the van, straightening my half-torso length leather jacket, so that he can’t cop yet another glance of my breasts. The wind is slightly chill against the wide expanse of my naked mid-riff, I guess I’m used to more equatorial climes. I move to inspect the postage stamp sized front lawn as they slowly move to the back of the van.

There wasn’t much furniture, just enough to make the moving-in look real; the main item was the damn car, safely under its dust sheet, once it was out of the van and in the garage I’d be a lot happier. I hate cars, always did, this one is almost more trouble than it’s worth... I mean, what maniac decided it needed to be nuclear powered, when a nice clean anti-matter injector can do the job just as well. Have you any idea how hard it is to get fuel for that thing?

“Hi there!” said a voice from across the fence, it was her! I had to use all my mental discipline not to drop down and kiss her feet. I dare not. It would be a big give-away to the watchers and also confuse the fuck out of Treya.

“Hi theyuh!” I drawled smiling and walking closer, swinging my breasts in that way that is guaranteed to catch the eye.

“I guess your family are our new neighbors; I’m Treya Mistrisiaan”

“Pet Silver; no family, just lil ol’ me”

“That accent? American?”

“N’Orleans”

“Wow! Furthest I’ve been is France, I guess you find it kind of chilly up here in England.”

“Naw, its plenty warm” I didn’t mention that back in New Orleans we’d not bothered much with clothes... but Treya wasn’t really ready to know the reasons for that just yet.

“Say, why don’t you come on over once these delivery guys have finished; y’can tell me all about this here city” I offered.

“Thanks!” She replied without reservation or caution.

Inwardly my happy mood slipped a bit, Treya needed to be a lot more alert or they’d have her fully bimbo-ized, branded on the labia and eagerly wax-stripping her own crotch sooner than spit.

But what to do? I had access to a whole range of sophisticated mind-altering methods that could help her defend herself, and I dared not use 99% of them.

Those techniques that weren’t instantly detectable to ‘them’ might cause damage; the thought of damaging Treya is like an icy dread, it mustn’t happen, not on my watch!

There was a sound of breaking china, Blakely Removals had been cheap; I guess there was a reason for that. They were all I could afford after selling a spiral-generating program to the gurls at Fictionmania. I’d forgotten about the need for money, back home everything is priced in hours and we pay by doing ‘community service’

I winced, there were a few bits of technology amongst the vases that would raise a few eyebrows even from the removal guys.

“You’d better go see to that” grinned Treya

“Yes M...Yes Treya” damn! I nearly blew it right there, I mustn’t use the ‘M’ word.

I sprinted toward my front door; ah the joy of following direct orders, it felt good after so long. Poor Treya, if She were a lesbian right now and knew how I felt she could... No. Don’t go there, give in to temptation and it’s all to Dust and Daria Jones.

The fat Blakely was scratching the blubber that projected over his belt whilst looking at the debris. I was tempted to give her some discipline, but the thought of a sissified version inflicted on the local gay-bars.. Well it just wouldn’t be fair on the boys.

Why do I mention turning him gay if all I talk about is discipline? Because all the really rock solid mind control techniques involve some degree of sexual reassignment, giving him gay fantasies or a panty wearing fetish would have been probable side effects of getting him in better physical and mental shape.

“Dropped it” he said around the cigarette

“Try to be more careful! I’ll get this tidied” I snapped shooing him away.

On the floor was the collar-mine I’d hidden in the vase. A nasty little device; to the un-informed it would look like a crescent shaped toy spaceship... when activated it homed in on hetro-male mental activity flying through the air and wrapping its two pincer-like wings around the victim’s neck. Once the wingtips touched each other completing the circuit, the lucky victim’s mind went to pleasure-land, a ring of needles injecting a cocktail of intellect suppressant and DNA mk 2.0G into his lymph system.

Fortunately for Blakely the thing had to be lightweight in order to fly, and the impact had broken the fragile pincer-wing. Lucky her, but one less passive defense for me, damn it.

Even knowing he was wrong he still managed to be surly about it, muttering ‘fucking ice queen’ when he thought I was out of earshot. Yeah right, as if I had any interest in someone with his looks!

I sniffed with distain and set about making sure the rest of my kit was intact. I should have come better prepared, I’d had full access to Fleet’s Armory and like a fool I’d gone with just the stuff I had to hand when we found the car. Idiot!

Fortunately the rest of the unloading passed without incident and I was soon seeing the back of Blakely and his Neanderthal cousins. Five minutes after that, Treya was at the door; I guess She’d been watching to see when the van left.

“C’mon in, coffee makings and cookies by the sink”

“Cheers Pet!” She scampered past and returned with two mugs and a small plate of Oreos.

Once Treya had returned I asked a few polite small talk questions to put her at ease... and then it was her turn.

“So, how come you’re here and can afford your own house? You must be like, some oil baron’s daughter to afford your own place; I mean, you’re, like, no older than I am”

“I’m here on a secret mission, the house is on loan until I’m done here” I answered truthfully, I tried to stop myself but I couldn’t. The programming, the old habits, they’re too deeply burned into my brain, answering ‘Her’ questions to the best of my ability is almost an instinct level response. I hadn’t expected this as a complication; my world had just got very complicated.

“You are kidding me! You’re fucking CIA?”

“No, I’m not kidding you. I’m not CIA though.” I replied

I was thinking ‘shit, shit, shit’; hastily I added “I’d prefer not to talk about it if that’s ok”

She frowned suspiciously; I wasn’t getting away with a statement like that without some comeback. She’s very sharp, instantly knowing that I’d told the simple truth.

“So why’d you say anything? All you had to do was make up a cover story?”

I forced myself not to answer instantly, choosing my words cautiously.

“I won’t lie to you Treya; but to tell you too much puts you at risk. Does that make sense?” I said, giving her the truth that I literally couldn’t lie to her without making that the focus of my reply.

“I guess so” She replied, clearly not satisfied but willing to let it slide. “I’d better help you unpack, only fair if you’re feeding me coffee”

“Thanks” Actually it would be a lot better if She didn’t go poking around in the boxes, but She’d phrased it so close to an order I couldn’t see a way of denying her.

My run of bad luck continued, having dived into the first box Treya’s hand emerged holding my sidearm, a trusty Slavemaker Mk One. Fortunately the thing looks like a 7 inch gold plated dildo, so as long as She doesn’t switch it on, it’s ok. The Slavemaker was still set to maximum submissiveness after my fight with those male Cyber-troopers, it could blind her if she handled it wrong.

“Um.....sorry” She says blushing.

“That’s ok” I replied taking the Slavemaker from her, caressing it in such a way as to set it back to a less severe setting and slipping it into its holster… a holster I hoped looked like a trendy pocket in my black leather pant leg.

“Uh look, if you invited me over hoping for a date, I got to disappoint you, I’m straight.” She said.

I guess she confused the deactivation gesture with a rather un-subtle lesbian come-on.

“I didn’t invite you for a date. Although I do find you very attractive.” I admitted, what an understatement, as far as I’m concerned She’s sex on a stick, I could lick her until she melted away. Serving her bodily needs would be my Orgy Day and Enslavement Anniversary all rolled into one.

Treya was blushing badly, her pale English skin almost pink. Perhaps She’s not as straight as everyone believed; or is my subconscious influencing her? Projective telepathic mind control is a technique I learned very recently, the ability was downloaded direct into my brain by someone who was in a hurry and, frankly, wasn’t that well trained. It’s possible I could be leaking full-on lesbian desire like an unshielded anti-matter core and not have noticed.

“You’re not bad looking yourself” She complimented hesitantly “I guess you must work out a lot.”

“Back home we’re kind of obsessive about our physiques, we figure looking good is a duty of sorts”

Working out is definitely a duty; a slave must look her best just in case her Mistress chooses her for bedroom duty.

Am I doing this to Treya or are these her own emotions? I have to know; If I am contaminating her with my lust I’m going to have to re-think how I complete the mission, it’s kind of important to the race that her emotions are her own.

Treya is frowning and looking at her coffee. I don’t dare read her mind, but my guess is she’s wondering if I doped it. Good; at least she’s aware of that possibility.

“This, this is gonna sound like, really fucking wired” She said, if anything her blush was getting even more intense. “I’ve known you less than ten minutes, you’ve told me you’re a secret agent working for an un-named organization; which is pretty damn insane thing to tell a stranger by the way; and yet I can’t help thinking I believe every word and that I could trust you with my life.”

“You can” the reply slipped out, as I winced mentally. I know too damn much, I should have prepared myself better, deleted my memories so that I don’t have answers to the awkward questions.

“And… even though I’m not into girls... I.. I have this desire to see exactly how fit you look.” She blurted.

The selfish greedy part of my mind started doing a little dance thinking ‘yes!, yes! Yes!’ and from that point of view it didn’t get much better than this. As far as the mission goes, stripping for her isn’t part of the plan.

Ten seconds later I’m naked to the waist pert large nippled breasts overhanging a subtly muscular physique. My Bolero jacket with most of my special devices is just about visible draped over the back of the Sofa where I threw it.

What do I look like? They say I look like Halley Berry done up as Jinx in that Bond film, personally I don’t see it... there’s this damn statue they had done. If I could figure out a way to nuke it without destroying the French Quarter... but that’s not really important right now.

Treya’s face is a picture, I can guess the emotions, ‘confusion’ because she knows she’s not straight, ‘admiration’ because I really am pretty fit, and of course ‘lust’ because I know she will be the ultimate Lesbian eventually, even if she doesn’t.

Hesitantly, like someone approaching a poisonous snake She reaches out with her hand and touches my subtly muscled mid-riff, fingers running up my cleavage until her hand is cupping my left breast .

Damn that was bad, I nearly went ecstatic, nearly losing my conscious mind from the overload of pleasure her touch generated. It’s ironic, she means more to me than life itself, she’s been the focus of my existence for the last ten years and yet this is the only time I’ve felt her touch.

“Perfect” She murmured to herself

By this point my pussy is getting moist and uncomfortable in the tight constraining leathers.

“Can... can I..” She asked, looking down at my smooth leathered crotch.

Ah ha!, I felt it that time, a movement in my head, the ghost of a memory stirring, those skills I mentioned must still have had some the original owner’s personality fragments attached. I guess I really am radiating lust and it’s lust of a sort that Treya has no defense against...her own.

At least ‘they’ wouldn’t detect it; the thought patterns would match perfectly.

Even as I was reasoning this out my fingers were releasing my crotch buttons; no normal buttons these, shaped more like fridge magnets but using molecular bonding to hold them closed, you just press and the cohesion reverses polarity and pops the button open.

My moist pussy lips emerge framed by my pubic hair, which is of course neatly trimmed as required by Fleet regulations. My shin length leather pants hit the floor and I step free; as I said before nakedness doesn’t bother me, it’s a slave’s girl’s natural state.

“That is so wired” She repeated in a dazed sort of awed voice. The hand she had on my left breast began gliding toward my lower hair.

Suddenly her eyes narrowed, I could almost sense that razor sharp mind figuring it all out, snapping herself loose from the lust radiating from my sub-conscious mind. “You’re following my orders aren’t you, every time I’ve suggested something, you’ve done it”

I relaxed my pose, there wasn’t going to be any way to avoid answering, I’d just have to find a way to lock some of her memories away afterward; dammit.

“Yes” I replied shrugging, and smiling in what I hope is a disarming way.

“Why?”

“Because... because you are my Mistress… My owner, I have no choice but to follow your commands. " I spat it out, frustratedly.

“You’re not actually very sane are you” She says withdrawing that wandering hand and edging away glancing toward the door.

I slumped a little, I probably looked very dejected, no slave likes knowing her Mistress doesn’t value her...even when the Mistress in question doesn’t understand what she’s saying.

She stopped moving toward the door and turns back toward me “I really hurt you saying that didn’t I? I...I felt it in here” making a waving motion near her head.

I shrugged, I could guess what happened, but it was better I didn’t explain. How do you tell someone that you’ve got several partial copies of their mind knocking around in your head and that maybe one of them just copied itself back home or that one day soon she will be the first member of Earth’s new dominant sub-species. It would bring up way too many questions Treya shouldn’t have answers to.

“How come? Why can I feel your emotions? Emotions... I bet that’s why I’m feeling so fucking horny you’re somehow making me feel your lust!” She accused

“Not intentionally ...I...” I let the sentence drift to silence, Mistress wasn’t listening; having turned back from the door her eye had focused on my naked body again, with the consequence that her rather excellent mind had become fully occupied admiring my exotic physique. Doubtless the telepathic training she’d just absorbed had a healthy attachment of sub-conscious lesbian desire associated with it.

She licked her lips; I licked mine.

This was beginning to look like good news, she’d deduced that I was the cause; better she think that for now; and of course on the pure selfish side I was getting lots of personal attention from the most important person in my universe. As I thought this, she shuffled closer, almost touching, inhaling my pheromone laced scent.

“Command me” I whispered, getting lost in the moment

“Kiss me” She ordered

I obeyed, careful to allow her dominance my tongue moving to compliment the way She chose to kiss. She’s not very experienced at it, but I easily make up for that. Back when I was fifteen my school graded me ‘best in year’ for my ability in Kissing 101. As an important slave skill, it’s one I’ve always practiced at every opportunity... a little future tip here, the Kissotron (tm) robotic training head will NOT do as a revision aid.

I looked into her eyes, which are aware and yet dreamy, learning to enjoy the feel of a soft/hard lesbian body held close; I can sense it, the potential for greatness stirring within her.

Her hand drifted away from my butt and began fumbling with her belt. Gently I took hold of her wrist and moved her hand back to my hips, using my other hand to wrestle with her zip and delve within.

Inside her jeans my fingers meet silk, ...a thong? For some reason I’d expected something more conservative, pantyhose perhaps. Deftly I moved the offending scrap of fabric aside and ease a finger into her pussy whilst deftly pulling her slacks down. Having accomplished my task I moved my hand up under her Pegasus Lives! T-shirt exploring her physique. She has a fine body, the breasts slightly small but with the natural pertness that will never give in to sagging. No bra, another surprise; It’s one of the reasons ‘they’ have her targeted, model quality girls 16 to 24 was the key demographic group.

Once again I feel her mind slam shut, her mental shielding has improved from zero to about level three in the short time we’ve been kissing. Even if she doesn’t understand what or how, its still useful that she can do it.

She draws back; hastily pushing her T-shirt back down and pulling her slacks back up.

“I... I need time, I have to figure out why I can’t keep my hands off you... And I think I need to be away from you to do that or you’re just going to distract me again. Look, I’m not rejecting you; don’t feel ‘bad’ like you did a minute ago. I just need time” She says it firmly this time.

I sense she’s in command of the situation, thinking on her feet; good, the sooner she’s able to deal with this sort of shit the better.

I bow my head in acknowledgement and she quickly makes her escape.

Ah well, at least I haven’t accidentally fried her mind or prematurely triggered her evolution.

She almost certainly won’t be back tonight. I glance down at damp pussy, a shame to let it go to waste. Mentally I form an image of Treya in my head and use the Slavemaker in a way it wasn’t officially designed for; eager for the orgasm that will swell to fill my lower torso with pleasure.

My needs finally sated I sit myself down cross-legged and begin an old meditation exercise that will allow me to sleep and then awaken feeling refreshed.

Treya’s Story:

Ok, so I ran. Who wouldn’t? I can still sense her?, she’s masturbating and I’m pretty certain its my face she’s imagining as she does it. I feel her fingers moving into the deep places, sensing sensations that feel new and yet infinitely normal at the same time.

I thunder upstairs and slam my bedroom door and nearly trip over a box full of books in my haste.

I’m off to University in less than a week, and pretty much all my important stuff is in the precarious tower of boxes next to the door.

Quickly I lock the door. I don’t bother getting undressed, I just pull my T-shirt up to my nipples and shove my slacks down to half mast. I don’t even try waddling over the bed, I just do a goalkeeper’s dive onto it, straining the well-used springs as I hit.

I begin seeing to my desperate need, trying to get a mental picture of Pet’s body out of my mind, think of a male instead Peter Andre, Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom, hell even Val Kilmer. But all I can do is feel her fingers, going deeper and deeper, rubbing... and it feels like it’s my crotch that’s penetrated!

It didn’t work, when the orgasm came, it was still her bronzed, smooth skinned body I saw; a version of Halley Berry, an athletically pure body, glistening with moisture in the front of my mind.

Damn, my T-shirt’s soaked with sweat.

Having dealt with my most urgent need I stripped off the soiled clothes, dumping them in the wash basket. It was definitely time for a shower.

The shower didn’t help either. As I lathered myself up my mind kept drifting back to Pet, standing naked in the middle of her living room in that parade rest stance, a study in perfection, the ultimate expression of the female sex, just waiting for me to give her an order, my own personal sex toy ready to do my every bidding.

By the time I was fully lathered up my pussy is damp again, in hindsight shower-gel would have been a better choice than the tempting bar of soap in my hand. What an idiot I am! Pet would have gone all the way, had sex in any position I could have thought up, and stayed attentively close... so unlike a shag-and-snore boyfriend

I turned the temperature setting all the way down to cold, getting rid of the stupid thoughts, gasping in shock as the water hit my nipples. I had to think this through without turning into Princess Teen-slut.

Slipping into my fleece bathrobe I went to my desk and pulled out a piece of paper...I’d start by listing what I knew for sure about my athletic new neighbor.

1. She’s very very hot for a...for a lesbian
2. She’s not sane.
3. I’m probably not sane either for fancying her.
4. She’s on a mission—what is it?
5. She’s an agent and at the same time she thinks she’s my slave—how can that be true?
6. Telepathy—somehow she can transmit her thoughts and emotions; I can pick them up; does that make me some sort of ‘Tomorrow Person’ as well.
7. She’s very nervous about something I’m not supposed to know about.
8. She’s without doubt the best kisser I’ve ever encountered, bar none.
9. I know for certain she’s telling the truth about everything, even though its all insane.
10. How can I get any answers, if I get the irresistible the urge to get jiggy with it every time I see her perfect, well-trimmed crotch?

I look down at my open bathrobe and reach for a pair of paper-scissors. A few minutes later my swivel chair has a pile of hairs on it and my pubes are more or less trimmed. Whatever else, I’m going to need a few tips on how best to self-trim.

I sigh, this is all so so insane. Why am I getting off on some lesbian who wants to fulfill my every desire? Why dammit?

Chucking the pen down I flumped back on the bed and examined the ceiling until I finally fell asleep. In my dream thousands of naked girls are bowing at my feet and then morph to become mythical creatures centaurs, angels and girls who are like snakes from the waist down... I know without thinking about it that every one of them looks to me for guidance and orders.

I open my eyes, it’s deep night out there, but I distinctly heard something clatter. Mom and Dad are away, leaving me home alone, I nearly begin thinking about inviting Pet over, when I remember the sound, some rowdy boys in our back yard I figure. Grabbing my hockey stick I rush down to see what’s going on.

It’s not until a gravel stone prick’s my foot that I realize I’m outside without shoes in just a loosely tied bathrobe.

The noise is coming from Pet’s house, it’s those two boys that have been hanging around, fiddling with the garage’s backdoor.

You’re expecting me to go charging in at 2:1 odds against boys... bathrobe flying like Supergirl’s cape? No fucking way! Instead I head around front and go to knock quietly on Pet’s door. To my surprise the door’s unlocked, not even closed. Quickly I slip inside.

Pet is exactly where I left her in the lounge. She’s sat cross-legged in a classic yoga position, her hands resting against the floor palms up. Her head is slumped in a pose of innocent sleep, her lower lips I notice seem full and moist.

Gently I caress her cheek with a finger; which, thinking about it, is a pretty daft way of waking someone you want to warn about a break-in.

Instantly she’s awake and rolling toward her neatly piled stack of clothes, a real James Bond-Jinx maneuver... except instead of picking up a gun she’s got that golden-rod vibrator in her hand.

I put a finger to my lips and then point at the garage. To her credit she doesn’t waste time scoping the fact that my bathrobe’s fallen open, instead she nods once and heads toward the garage, still completely naked, still holding the vibrator and oozing military competence.

I follow her through the kitchen to the garage’s side door and watch as She hurls herself through.

Before I can follow I’m dazzled by the most beautiful lights, patterns that whirl and slide into each other, I feel a tightness at the back of my head, sort of the same feeling as I had when I managed to block all that lust Pet had projected at me. Suddenly I feel my sexual needs spiking upward.

A second later another lightshow flared, this time it was aimed further into the garage and it didn’t pull me in as the first flash had. That Vibrator, it must be a ‘Q’ branch gadget a secret weapon that only looks like a sex-toy.

Gripping my trusty hockey stick I cautiously step into the garage. There are two boys stood to attention next to the dust-sheet covered car, they’re both sixteen, two years younger than me, I’ve known them since they were kids, they’re not thieves... or at least it never occurred to me that they might be.

“It’s ok I know these guys, they’re a bit rowdy, but I don’t think they meant any harm.” I told Pet

“Let’s see shall we” replied Pet walking up to the two immobile youths and removing the two sweatbands each boy wore around his forehead

Under each band was what looked like a fresh tattoo etched into the forehead.

“Talon!” Hissed Pet as if naming the devil herself. “They’re not your friends anymore. They belong to a Dominatrix called Talonova. They’re her creatures now.”

I frowned, “In the same way that you say you are my creature?”

“Exactly! I am your Pet. The difference is that these guys Mistress isn’t a nice girl like you”

“I don’t believe it” I insisted

“What’s this one’s name?”

“Matthew”

Peter taps Matt on his tattoo “What’s your name?”

“Allyx-na-Mattikalla-na-Talon” replied Matt proudly thumping his chest, which I notice seems slightly swollen.

“He believes he is an Aztec war bride, doing her high priestess’s bidding.” explained Pet inspecting the unresisting Matt’s teeth, hands, swollen pectorals and withered scrotum.

“Given how far along he is, I’d say that in a day or so his parents will find a barely legible note saying that he’s run away from home. In reality he will have drunk enough elixir to have become a fully she-male eunuch, large breasted, large cock, non-existent testis. Mentally he will believe he’s a possessing spirit obedient to High Priestess Talonova, completely forgetting his former existence as a boy”

Pet turned to the other boy and repeated the inspection “This one’s at about the same stage, possibly a little further along, note the atrophied testis, my guess he’s the one that gave Matt his first shot of elixir ”

“Hypnosis? Hormone Drugs?” I asked

“Good guess; a lot of this could be called that.” Pet replied returning her attention to Matt “Now Allyx-na-Mattikalla-na-Talon what is your mission?”

“The sacred one’s oracle predicted a disturbance here, we are to evaluate the threat and eliminate it” replied Matt in a soft voice.

There was a look of murderous zeal in his eyes. I, like, totally believed he could do murder without a second thought.

“Can you snap them out of it?”

Pet sags slightly looking tired. “No. We daren’t, the best I can do is make them think their mission is complete. I realize this all doesn’t make much sense so It’s probably easier if I show you the damn car, I’m pretty sure seeing it will fill in a few of the blanks for you.”

She pulls the dustsheet away, and there it is, a time machine, like in a film I saw... a fucking honest to god DeLorean fucking time machine, straight out of ‘Back To The Future’.

“I’ve been to the year 3000, you see.” explained Pet “Your great great grand daughter sends her regards, she was doing pretty fine last time I saw her.”

A working time machine! Suddenly it’s all fitting into place, how she can say she’s my slave even though I never owned one, how I can feel attracted to her, the ‘mission’, the whole bit.

“That’s why you’re so cryptic isn’t it! You’re from the future too. I bet this descendent of mine sent you.” I guessed

“Yes, I suppose, indirectly Garia did send me, she kinda had no choice. You’re right, I am from a bit further down the timeline. Look, please, don’t ask me anything about your immediate future. To be honest you’ve already found out way more than I intended to tell you.”

“The Grandfather paradox? If I use anything I’ve learned it will change the future” I said, remembering various Star Trek episodes

She nodded.

“So why get in contact at all?”

“Because, historically I already did.”

“I don’t get it”

“My journey into the far future wasn’t planned and was one way. When I got there… the year three thousand that is, I found that you’d personally left me some clues to assist me on my journey, eventually leading me to the location of this time-car.

“I had no choice, I had to come back here to make sure you left the clues that I would use.

“My original plan was to hypnotize you so that when the time was right, when you’re about 80 or so, you’d remember exactly what you needed to do to save my loyal butt. I’m here now because this is a point in time where you’re easy to reach safely.” Pet explains

It’s a lot to take in, I stand there looking at the three of them, my two slightly feminized friends, blank eyed, thinking evil alien thoughts and my future servant, with her burning love and need to obey lighting her up with mental radiation.

“So right now I’m putting the timeline at risk.” I concluded, coming to a decision “That can’t be allowed to happen. I order you to do whatever is required to protect your future, I can’t have a drop dead gorgeous girl like you ceasing to exist just because I remember the wrong things”

Pet’s smile is one of pure joy, I sense her relief, she’s much much happier now that her mission and my immediate orders match exactly. Ah well, time to put a slight twist in things...

“But first there’s a couple of things we need to do.” I said firmly

Pet doesn’t look so happy about that.

“Firstly, do as much as you can for the boys here.” I instructed

She nodded and aimed the dildo shaped weapon at the boys lighting their naked torsos with the swirling hypnotic laser light. Once again, as it’s only a reflection and I am able to resist the patterns.

“You have completed your mission, you found and eliminated an agent of Mistress Eleanor who refused to reveal her purpose. You are happy that you have done your duty well. When I finish speaking you will walk away remembering only the things I have just told you about the last half hour”

The two partially feminized boys walked past me looking pleased with themselves, hips swaying in a very un-male way, neither one paying me or Pet even the slightest attention. Once they were gone I asked “Mistress who?”

“A powerful rival, Talonova’s a paranoid bitch, she’ll begin suspecting the truce between her and Eleanor has ended; which actually suits you just fine, you don’t need either one paying you any attention.” she explained

“If you say so” I shrug. Does it matter if Talonova and this Eleanor girl are getting hissy with each other? I’ll be safely away at Bath University in a day or two anyways.

I feel tense and nervous, what I’m getting around to asking her is way way beyond the X-files and the Twilight Zone.

“I… I’ve been picking up your emotions, all night; is that because you’re projecting them or because I’m some sort of telepath?”

“I don’t know.” She says blushing “It could be either; If my thoughts have caused offence I offer my...”

“No. Don’t apologize.” I interrupt “It’s the only time I ever understood exactly how much another person loved me. I also picked up an edge to it... you haven’t told me the whole story have you… I need to know it all. Right now.”

she bows her head, she really doesn’t want to reveal something.

“Treya there’s no easy way to say this. There’s a war coming, a worldwide Gender War, a battle between Talonova and Eleanor. Both of them want to be Dominatrix, ruling an exclusively female world, each thinks she has a method of doing without males, each one is determined to recreate the world to her specification before the other does. Both of them has developed weapons of mass enslavement, fast acting, efficient and lethal to males too old to be of use on the labor gangs.

“Within a few days they will start serious recruiting, turning males into obedient gay eunuchs and girls into equally obedient lesbian bimbos en masse, city after city...Bath University, your campus, was one of the first places hit.

“In the rush to enslave more of the world than their rival they ripped apart the current world order in less than a week. Washington nuked itself rather than fall to Eleanor’s fem-troops...China did the same to Talon’s Bimboids infiltrating from Korea.

“After a month there were hardly any free males left, the legions of gayboys obediently hunting them down with the zeal of converts. The hospitals had moved their entire operating staff over to doing vasectomies once the doctors were rounded up and given intellect antidote.

“The only free-willed resistance was from a bunch of cross-dressers and pre-op transsexuals in New York led by Rue Paul, able to operate un-noticed due to their artificial breasts. Theirs was a desperate and doomed fight, the Dominatrixes promised some of them exactly what they desired most, at the small expense of their free will, soon they were betrayed by one of their own and the last organized resistance was gone.

“Without realizing or caring humanity teetered on the brink of extinction; our scientists say that neither Dominatrix had perfected a cloning technique that remained stable beyond the third iteration. If either of them had truly won we’d have been a dead race in less than four generations. The only thing that even gave us a chance of recovery was the fifteen year backlog queue for vasectomies... for once the lack of healthcare facilities worked in everyone’s favor.

“Anyhow with all that going down neither would-be Dominatrix noticed You until it was too late. Somehow you reacted differently to one of the bimbo-izing chemicals, gases or rays. You became a… a fully functional telepathic dominatrix, The First, immune to both Eleanor’s hypnotic enslavement devices and Talonova’s mutational bio-weapons.Not only that; you had the ability to transmit your mutation to other girls, during the sex act.

“By the time you acted, Talonova and Eleanor had long since lost interest in males and were intent on eliminating each other. They were both in New Orleans, focused on using their vast powers to subdue each other and establish final dominance. You managed to gatecrash and take them down, your mental superiority catching them by surprise.

“When the dust had settled all of the world’s population, all the gayboy and bimbo-lesbian slaves found themselves without a Mistress to tell them what to do; a fate that terrified them. They had become happy in their obedience; their altered minds feared the uncertainty of making their own decisions once more.

“They begged you to become Mistress of Terra and give them the orders that they craved. You reluctantly agreed, after realizing that you effectively ruled two distinct sub-species that no longer interacted willingly. Only a regulated and enforced breeding program would stop the population numbers dropping off a cliff, Only you had the authority to give that order.

“It was a good time, a golden age, I was a ten year old girl when the war came, I don’t remember much of the before, my first clear memory is a doctor injecting me with an antidote to the intellect reducing bimbo virus. I grew up as you see me, an obedient girl in an obedient world, happy in the knowledge that we all served you to the best or our abilities.

“And then in the sixth year of your reign The Dominatrix Talonova returned, worse than before, caring only for vengeance and destruction, twisting people’s DNA creating hetro-monsters to attack you with.

“By chance I was able to stop one such creature and became the youngest of your chosen band of Pets. When you finally confronted Talon, It was a trap; she’d created a temporal vortex generator which she intended to use to eject you from history, thus undoing your victory as if it had never happened... I… got in the way and was thrown forward in time. According to the future history Garia showed me, my sacrifice allowed you to mentally subdue her. You won and civilization continued in the way you’d planned it... there, that’s it, the whole story.

“Telling you this may have had severe effect on the timeline. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have revealed anything, I couldn’t help stop myself. You are my Mistress, I couldn’t disobey your direct order to tell all.” Pet says looking worried.

I’ve never heard such a wild story in all my life, even episodes of Dr Who are more plausible...and yet, this new telepathic sense I seem to have developed is telling me that every single word my Pet has uttered is the absolute truth.

“Is there any record of when I... ?”

“No Mistress. Only that you were at University when the war started and were already turning your friends into Mistresses a couple of days later.”

I recall the lesbian dreams, the thought of feeling her fingers dipping deep inside and me reading every detail of her love for me as she pleasured me... and if that wasn’t temptation enough the new improved me would get to save the world. The decision was surprisingly easy to make.

“Ok here’s what I want you to do. I want you to hypnotize me so that I think I’m the Mistress you remember. The effect is to last until my next orgasm; after which I want all those memories I’m not supposed to have yet to vanish. Can you do that?”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress!”

I turn and head back into the house and go to the lounge, my heart’s beating so fast, I’m going to have sex with a telepathic girl, the next step in human evolution, the thought both terrifies and arouses, what will it be like? Will it hurt? Will I enjoy it? What does being hypnotized feel like? Will it hurt? Or will I enjoy it... great, I’m acting like a fucking virgin again!

I reach the middle of the lounge and turn toward her, letting my bathrobe drop so that it forms a warm pile around my feet. My body is good... hers is better.

“I’m ready” I say; I don’t sound ready, I sound fucking terrified.

To my surprise she doesn’t use the dildo laser thing, she pulls open a secret pocket in the sleeve of her leather jacket.

“A pocket watch?”

“For what you have asked Mistress; this is the correct tool. There are various techniques of mind control; each has its own place. The pocket watch method is undetectable when the subject is willing. Don’t worry, I’m good at this stuff, no kid graduates school without knowing how to put a willing subject into a light trance”

“Ok, do it” I reply gritting my teeth.

She doesn’t do anything with the watch; instead she rests a hand on my shoulder. “It won’t work if you don’t relax”

Her hand massages my neck, it’s like a Vulcan nerve pinch, making me feel so relaxed that I buckle at the knees.

“Better, Mistress?”

“Thanks, do that again” I guess what I’m feeling now is what a drugged up hippy would call ‘mellow’

“I can’t, you need to be conscious” she replies, smiling, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Sometime before she became so mission focused Pet must have been a serious practical joker.

My mind is awash with the adoration she’s broadcasting; I can trust that; she’d lose herself in time before seeing me harmed.

“I’m ready”

she raises the old pocket watch, I notice the inscription on the cover ‘E.Pankhurst’... No… she couldn’t have... could she?

“Focus your eyes on the watch, listen to it ticking, the ticking is getting slower, as the ticking slows you become more relaxed, slower and slower, more and more relaxed...”

her voice fell into a well trained monotone, almost before I realized what was going on I....was...******

Pet’s Story:

I dangled the watch in front of her eyes watching as they rapidly lost focus. Yesterday I’d have been worried about how susceptible to Eleanor’s bimbo-izing hypnosis she is; fortunately she’s unintentionally given me permission to fix that.

Now that she’s under I gently place my hands on either side of her head, my fingers tangling in her short blonde hair. Ok, physical contact isn’t strictly necessary, for the telepathy to work; I just want to run my hands through her hair.

A few moments later She gasps with pleasure as I obey her orders and turn her into my Mistress.

Gently I remove my hands and wait expectantly, slowly she opens her eyes, her expression is tougher, more experienced and confident.

“Pet Silver?” she says

“Yes Mistress”

“I understand now... the last few months must have been almost unendurable for you.”

“Yes Mistress, focusing on protecting your heir helped, but it was tough, almost like being a free-willed girl” I replied with a shudder.

“You can’t stay here and you never returned to your original time, you know that don’t you.”

“Yes Mistress” At some level I’d always figured this was a suicide mission.

“When you leave here you will return to the year 3000, you will belong to Garia, I get the impression my great grand daughter will need all your services.”

“As you command” I feel an odd shift in my attitudes I am still utterly obedient to Mistress Treya, but now I think of Mistress Garia with unrestrained longing... I’m to be her property, and that’s a good thing.

“Right, that’s the housekeeping done. Now lets get to the interesting bit, I need to forget all about you as quickly as I can, which means I have only one order to give.

“Make love to me, Unrestrained by any desire but your own, we only get to do this once and I want it to be the best sex either of us have ever had” she gives that crooked smile of hers “I may not consciously remember any of this, but I figure what you do next kind of sets my sexuality firmly on the right track.”

Suddenly the truth hits me like a bolt of lightning, the grandmother effect! My Mistresses’ genes will mutate any girl causing them to evolve and gain telepathic abilities. That means if I obey her command and fuck her, my seed will begin the transformation that allows her to resist the bimbo-ization... not only that... by tampering with the two intruders I already started the feud that led to the war in the first place.

In growing horror I realize that my ‘subtle intervention’ is going to be responsible for the Gender War, the end of the free-will era, and splitting of humanity into two distinct species... I hesitate for a fraction of an instant, but no more than that.

I am a good girl, I’ve grown up knowing that nothing is more important than mistress’s direct order. Besides, I’ve been to the future; I know that the future world’s a utopia, probably a lot better than the job some silly free-wills could have done anyway.

I wrap her in my arms and kiss her deeply, her tongue responds expertly touching the pleasure points on the roof of my mouth. Our nipples brush against one another, my hands seek out her pussy and I slip a finger inside...She twitches as I find the spot.

I lose myself in the passion, kissing, licking and caressing any body part that presents itself, Treya does the same. We are soon on the floor sliding against each other our skin slick with sweat, her tongue enters me, coating itself in my sweet inner nectar, enough by itself to start her subtle evolution. Finally the raw passion is spent, we lay facing each other pressed close, each of us senses that the slightest touch will send her over the edge into orgasm.

“Oh, you’re good Pet Silver, I remember some pretty intense lovers and you’re up there in the top five”

“Thank you Mistress” I kiss her nose

“And now it’s time for me to go, I want my earlier self to loose her virginity to the orgasm you’re about to give us.” she instructs.

In answer I kiss her again. As I watch her expression changes from one of experience and power to one of innocent wonder.

I run a finger along her g-spot and it’s enough to tip her over the edge into orgasm.

“Oh Pet, I love you” She whispers.

Its nice of her to say, but I know for a fact she won’t meet her true love for about another three days or so.

“So tired” She mumbles running a hand along her torso.

My hypnotic command is beginning to take effect, soon the battle between her lust and the need to forget will be lost. Selfishly I hold her close prolonging things as far as I can.

She looks me in the eye, there’s no recognition, just the relaxed post-sexual warmth.

“Who?” She asks before her eyes close and her face relaxes into innocent sleep.

I stay there entangled with her watching her sleep. It will take about six hours for my hypnotic commands to do their job, deleting all those future memories and yet leaving her a few skills she may find useful buried deep in her sub-conscious.

After about four hours I slowly extract myself and drape her bathrobe over her sleeping form, I get dressed and collect the various up-time items that need to come back with me.

One last thing before I get out of there, one thing to check. I sit cross-legged in front of her and telepathically read her mind, very very careful not to be detected, looking for one thing, deep deep below the surface.

There! At the very deepest level of her sub-conscious mind, a small yet profound change, something she won’t notice until circumstances are perfect. Without any hypnotic tampering our lovemaking has altered her sexual preference. She’s profoundly lesbian now; the desire to create others like herself is there at the instinct level. She will accept what she is becoming and revel in it, eager for completion.

I don’t dare kiss her goodbye, but I must leave something, I strip off one of my fingerless gloves dropping it next to her head.

I feel a sense of completion, It’s time to go back to the future now. My new mistress is waiting, she will have orders for me to obey...eagerly I run to the garage.

It takes me another hour to find a bit of road empty enough to get up to required 88mph. The last I see of the 20th century are two burning tire trails in the rear view mirror.

Three days later, Bath University

Treya’s story:

I stack the last box in my new room and head down to the kitchen I will be sharing with the other students. Their names are Jamie, Jacki, Stephanie, and some other girl I haven’t met yet.

All of them seem to be top-notch athletes, slim well-muscled girls, each with a face that could melt a boy’s heart. There’s no doubt we’ll be pulling the dates, left and right.

I wonder what the chances were that these digs wouldn’t have a single ugly girl.

Jamie is in the kitchen wearing her cycling lycra, my eyes wander toward her butt. I blink... what is up with me lately? I’ve been checking the packing on the girls and imagining what they’d look like with naked breasts or ripping their clothes off for my pleasure... perhaps I’m turning dyke or something.

Without noticing what I’m doing I move my leather gloved hand to my bullet hard nipple and give it a tweak… I only have the one fingerless glove, I don’t remember where I got it but somehow it’s important, I wear it often even though I haven’t got the other half of the pair.

One thousand years later,

New Orleans

Pet’s Story:

I look up at the statue that stands astride the great Mississippi, its head lost in the clouds. It’s dressed in a short Bolero style jacket that ends just below the breasts, leaving the mid-riff exposed, wide hips hold up a pair of low cut skin tight pants that stop about halfway between the knees and ankles in the Capri style... there’s a door in the naked big toe for tourist access.

I used to be embarrassed by that statue. But now I understand why she had it made that way, another message intended to survive the passage of time. The left hand, its thumb hitched in the belt, is missing its glove... at some point my hypnotic suppression of her memory must have failed.

I turn toward my Mistress. Garia knows I used to hate my statue and is thinking to tease me about it.

“Don’t go there Garia” I warn laughing “I’ve changed my mind, I think it’s cute”

“Spoil sport!” pouts my mistress, her green hair flowing in the wind.

I take her hand and kiss her. Garia has said that I don’t need permission to show my affection for her; an order I’m happy to obey. I spend the next few minutes pleasuring her, my finger running around her pouting lower lips.

Finally I break away and ask “So... what next?”

“I’m told there’s trouble out near the border, something about fishing rights, the Free Worlds League has been deploying some sort of new hypnotic command program, a hetro free-will compulsion, we’ve got a whole colony needing urgent re-enslavement.” says my Mistress with distaste.

“Mistress Treya should never have let those Inuit males retain their free will. They’ve been nothing but trouble ever since” I grumble

I glance up, overhead the Cruisers French Maid and Bimbo-Boy are hanging in low orbit filling the sky, the muzzles of their trans-hypnotic inducers visible even at this great distance.

“Shouldn’t be a problem though” I reply pulling on my remaining glove.