The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Smiling, the slave greeted Monica warmly, silently noting her lightly flushed cheeks and newly applied lipstick. It was just after lunch and their co-workers were slowly filtering back to their cubicles. slaveannabel had spent that time at her desk idly eating her specially packed lunch, mantra pulsing through her mind endlessly reinforcing what she was and always would be.

The slave no longer met Controller in the bathroom.

The monica-material had taken over that particular role.

“Hello Monica,” slaveannabel greeted her warmly, noting the girl’s fresh perfume masking the faint scent of sex that did not escape her highly attuned nose.

“Umm, hi Annabel,” Monica began awkwardly, wringing her hands.

Arching an eyebrow slightly at the girl’s discomfort, the slave silently urged her to continue.

“Lauren said that you might be moving out...” Monica asked hesitantly.

slaveannabel gave her a reassuring smile. “Yup. I got a new place that’s much closer to work. Why? Are you interested?”

Her Controller had simply informed the slave that she was to report to the living quarters above the gym tomorrow. There were no explanations. She had no questions.

The girl visibly relaxed, her awkwardness vanishing. “Yeah,” she replied eagerly. “Lauren said....” the material began, trailing off, her flushed cheeks reddening as she spoke aloud the name of the woman she had come to love.

“Sure! That sounds like a great idea,” slaveannabel enthused, steadfastly ignoring the material’s obvious arousal. “You know Lauren already. Naomi and Jess, the other two in the house, are great. You’d fit in perfectly. This saves everybody a lot of trouble!”

The monica-material beamed with excitement.

“Actually I’m relieved,” the slave continued confidentially, “I didn’t want my sudden departure to cause hassle about the rent. You know how awkward these situations can get.”

The female material was nodding in agreement but slaveannabel knew she wasn’t listening. The monica-material’s mind had moved on, already seduced by the promise of a new and brilliant future spent with the wonderful woman she thought she loved.

“You’ll make the perfect replacement.”

“Hello siobhan,” her voice low and husky, causing the Irishwoman to squirm in her chair in surprise.

And more.

“Annabel...” the IT technician breathed looking up at the slave looming over her, siobhan’s pupils impossibly wide beneath the new glasses that were steadily burning her identity away.

It was late. Everybody in the IT section had left for the evening apart from the young woman who had dutifully been sitting at her desk pecking at her keyboard, waiting.

“You look perfect,” slaveannabel comlimented, her sex sizzling as she drank in the sight of the pale, slender woman dressed in a new mauve top, the high turtleneck enshrouding her long neck in its vice-like grip.

“Ahhh...” siobhan gasped, her voice catching as she shook uncontrollably. “T...thank you Annabel.”

The slave’s own moist snatch throbbed with desire as she controlled the material. It had only been a few days but the siobhan-material had gone deep, far deeper than monica or even she had been at this stage of her Enlightenment.

“Have you broken up with your boyfriend?” the slave questioned.

“Yessss...” siobhan shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head as her body recalled the orgasmic bliss that had ravaged her once she had completed the task of engineering an acrimonious split with the male. Bile had spewed forth from her mouth. She’d mercilessly wielded every weapon in her verbal arsenal to hurt him. He wouldn’t return.

“Good,” the slave praised the material. “You no longer need him. He held you back. You never really loved him.”

“Isn’t that correct?”

“Ohhh...” the material groaned in agreement, “y... yesssssss.....”

“You will be much happier in your new home,” the slave declared. “You will love it.”

Preparations had already been made to house the siobhan-material in the facility where, free from outside influences, she would be turned into the devoted servant of Medusa that she, without realising it, had always been.

The reasons why this piece of material’s enslavement was being accelerated did not trouble her. Such questions belonged to annabelthought. But now, mind following Instruction, slavethought controlled her completely. Every synapse in her brain felt as if it was vibrating with pure bliss, singing a hymn of rapture to her Owner.

The smouldering eyes in the pretty freckled face met hers as slaveannabel’s piercing stare trapped her prey like an exotic butterfly being pinned to a specimen board by a collector.

Reaching out, slaveannabel ran her hand slowly, deliberately, sensuously, along the fleshmaterial’s collar, caressing it firmly but lovingly.

The siobhan-material’s whole body rocked in the chair, jerking and twitching as the pleasure consumed her, gasping and moaning in animal lust, begging for more, surrendering to her new desires, already helplessly addicted to the ecstasy overwhelming her body and mind.

Eyes never wavering from the bucking woman, slaveannabel raised her other hand to her own tightly collared neck as she continued to stroke the siobhan-material, skillfully sending the female deeper into a frenzy of sexlust, the material writhing in agonised pleasure as she was brought to the very brink of oblivion. Cunt pulsing with Disciplined joy, slaveannabel relished the delectable slavethought that told her she was nothing more than the living instrument of Medusa’s Will as she savoured the bottomless depths of submission now burned forever into this piece of powerless womanflesh.

“It is time to go,” the slave finally announced, releasing her captive, the rapturous sensations slowly ebbing from the material’s body but leaving her desperate for more. “We will go to the gym for Training.”

“Yessss Annabelll...” the siobhan-puppet rasped, rising to her feet unsteadily.

The light pulsed before her, dazzling her, rousing her conscious mind into what now passed for wakefulness. She was in her Obedience Tube, staring wide-eyed into the curved glass just inches away.

The Spiral she no longer remembered gazing into for so many hours had vanished.

It’s place had been taken by something else, something that glowed with power and holiness. An emblem. The focus of her life. The reason for her existence.

Her breathing increased.

Medusa!

The Sacred Symbol of her devotion started to pulse and flare before her eyes, causing her Trained, Disciplined body to respond, the orgasm taking her, ravaging her mind and body as the slave worshipped the Owner of her soul.

Slavethought filled her mind with Purpose and devotion, reassuring her that all was as it should be. She realised that she was being changed. Whatever happened in the Tube was far stronger than the effect of the headset had ever been. Every time she woke, some small part of her was different. But thanks to blessings of slavethought, her critical thinking faculties, that would have previously led her into doubt and fear, had grown ever dimmer.

Yet sometimes, out of nowhere, unsettling feelings appeared, gnawing at her obedience, disturbing her happiness. Negativity threatened her happiness. It had to be suppressed, eradicated, purged, until only the purity of obedience, of submission, of worship remained. Then, and only then, would she be a worthy servant for her Deity.

Slowly, the tube moved, sliding out from the darkness where she had been stored for the night. Beyond the confines of the clear glass she made out the contours of the large room the slave now called home. The facility was large, obviously designed for a considerable number of residents as evidenced by the numbers of empty Obedience Tubes lying dormant alongside her. But slaveannabel had not yet encountered any other occupant in the short time she had been quartered here.

Cool air rushed in as the glass covering slid away, quickly dissipating the moist humidity that had bathed her body for hours. Levering herself up from the comfortable moulded sleep-platform that she had lain on for so long, the slave stood.

Joy suffused through her. Another day! Another chance to obey!

Proceeding to the washing area to clean and prepare herself for the workday ahead, her pussy throbbed expectantly, knowing that with every step she took, every action she performed, every word she uttered, every slavethought that appeared in her mind, she was enacting the Divine Will of Medusa.

The four women looked up as she approached them in the break room. Smiling disarmingly, the slave eased herself into the empty chair, assessing them discreetly. Their lightly flushed faces and the faint hint of arousal that wafted in her direction told slaveannabel they were all now primed to obey.

They were a disparate group from a number of different sections in work who had never socialised together before.

But now they were gathered, waiting, simmering with anticipation.

Ripe for the plucking.

slaveannabel had thoroughly examined their profiles, read their forum messages, thrilled over the Visor-clad selfies they had each eagerly shared.

She knew what they felt, what they thought, what they needed. And she would exploit that knowledge. Mercilessly.

They were Owned.

Of course, none of them realised that.

Yet.

“So,” she stated simply, taking charge of the expectant group, “wouldn’t it be much better to use our breaks more productively. To do something for ourselves that will make us feel better?”

There were nods all round, eager eyes shone brightly as they immediately agreed to her suggestion.

“Getting stuck in a rut is unhealthy. We need to take action.”

“Yesss...” murmured Philippa, her eyes wide with need. slaveannabel was pleased. Obviously the tall blonde was the weakest of the group. She would use her as a focus to claim the others.

“Very good Philippa,” she cooed, noting how the words caused her prey to wiggle in her seat, doubtless fighting back the urge to plunge her hand into her slick cleft and finger-fuck herself.

“All happiness comes from within,” the slave went on, her eyes boring intently into the helpless material. “We are each responsible for our own happiness. Isn’t that true?”

“Yessss... Annabelll...” Philippa agreed readily, the others nodding in unison.

“Happiness comes from Training our minds and bodies to purge all the negativity that holds us back,” slaveannabel insisted, clenching her thighs, thrilling to the sight of the material hanging on her words, knowing that she was nothing but a mouthpiece being used to brand the Truth into their receptive minds.

“Yesssss...” the four aroused voices quavered in complete agreement.

“Good,” the slave praised. “There is a gym near here. I will bring you to it. There we will Train our minds and bodies to be happy.”

She was back in Miss Henderson’s class. Maths had never been one of her strong subjects, but she had tried hard. And Judith Henderson had been nice, one of her favourite teachers. She had wanted to please her, gain a smile of praise for a lesson well learned...

The memory began to grow dim, the edges of the frame that contained it dissolving...

She should try to hold on to it. It was important. This was a part of her past that made her who she was. Without it, she would be... less.

Determination swelled as she concentrated on the memory, urging herself to save it from the blackness. From the void.

With some relief, the memory returned, strong as ever. Just the way it had always been.

Miss Henderson...

No.

slavejudith.

She was back in slavejudith’s class. Eyes ablaze with fanatical devotion, her teacher stood at the head of the class. Awestruck, like the rest of her classmates, pulse racing, she breathlessly followed every word. Moaning, she reached between her legs, sinking her fingers into the moist folds of her burgeoning womanhood as she fixated upon the adorable features she lusted after.

Her enthusiastic slaveteacher was preaching the Holy Gospel, every word sending her deeper into pleasure. Around her, a classroom of groaning, spasming students masturbated furiously to their teacher’s honeyed words. It felt so good. The desperate need to please her grew stronger and stronger. Nothing else mattered.

She needed to know the Truth.

She needed to Believe.

The Truth of what she was.

What she had always been.

What she would always be.

Owned property.

A weak and horny slave.

A mindless, obedient drone.

A sexObject to be Used.

She was Owned.

Yessss... so Owned.

Owned by Medusa...

MEDUSA!!!

Tightly sealed in her Obedience Tube, the rapturous screams of delight went unheard as the orgasm claimed her.

“Hello monica,” the slave greeted, her voice compelling the woman to stop in her tracks.

Turning to face her, the monica-material stood, her eyes dancing with arousal, practically bouncing from foot to foot with barely suppressed sexual energy.

“Annabelll...” she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

“Off to lunch?” the slave queried lightly, her sex throbbing as she skewered the weak-willed woman with a piercing gaze that caused the monica-material’s body to visibly shake.

“Yess... i mean no...” the female squirmed in confusion. “i mean... i’m meeting Lauren...”

Like a fish dangling helplessly from the end of a line gasping for breath, the wriggling material was delicious. slaveannabel remained silent, deliberately drawing out the pause, knowing that every moment was pure agony for her target.

“Ah,” slaveannabel smirked wickedly, finally breaking the interminable tortuous silence. “i understand.”

Frozen like a wide-eyed rabbit staring uncomprehendingly at the onrushing headlights that would soon steamroller her former existence, monica stood there, her shuddering body screaming with the programmed need to please her Controller. Yet, some unknown Disciplined compulsion made her submit to the slave who spoke to her now.

“Well,” slaveannabel rasped throatily, relishing the sexual thrill of torment that her Blessed Owner had permitted her to inflict upon this lesser servant. Her actions were no mere caprice; toying with material helped to lock the chains of Discipline tighter around their minds, demonstrating just how weak and helpless they truly were, how utterly impossible it was for them to resist, priming them to embrace the Truth.

Such was her Purpose.

And slaveannabel silently uttered a prayer of thanks to the Deity she Loved for it .

She was pleased to observe that the monica-material was well advanced on her journey to complete surrender. Breaking her completely would not take long.

“Run along monica,” she dismissed the submissive female curtly. “You don’t want to be late.”

“T...thankk you Annabell...” the material gasped, hurriedly making her way to the stairs, desperate not to be late for her appointment with the petite woman she had been brainwashed to love.

The Spiral twirled endlessly, dominating the narrow blank room. Sweat glistened on the woman’s body after her strenuous workout, reflecting the glow of the twirling vortex that was steadily sucking her thoughts away. She stood quite still, her body ramrod stiff, eyes impossibly wide and fixed on the whorling display that was her existence.

Breathing in the pungent musk that emanated from the deeply entranced material, slaveannabel closed the door of the small Booth behind her. The weak siobhanmind had been Trained. She could have used the speakers but slaveannabel wanted to be there for this.

Closing the gap, she stood before the entranced woman and the Spiral, positioning herself carefully so that she was now the centre of her universe.

“You belong to Medusa,” slaveannabel announced firmly.

Sighing happily, the siobhan-material’s mouth moved, her saucer-like eyes never wavering from the Spiral that span endlessly within her. “i belong to Medusa.”

The computer technician had rapidly succumbed to the multi-layered Training designed to bend her will. With her sleeping hours controlled by the headset, while the modified glasses ensured there was no escape through the day, the weak siobhanmind had been thoroughly cleansed of anything that might prevent her from surrendering to her destiny.

And it made the slave wet to know that she was a small cog in that process.

All thought was slavethought. These correct thoughts kept the slave focussed on the task at hand; helping to break this female completely for her Owner.

“You exist to please Medusa,” the slave asserted, knowing with every fibre of her being this was True.

“i exist to please Medusa,” the hypnotized woman agreed, her voice dripping with adoration.

“You are not a person. You have never been a person,” the slave pronounced. slaveannabel had no conception of what the words meant. The Instruction flowed through her, controlling her, reducing her to nothing more than a mindless tool being used to create another brainsmoothed servant of the Most Holy One.

Medusa was using her to warp and twist this piece of meat to serve Her Will.

And it felt absolutely amazing.

“You are an Object.”

Fixated upon the Spiral that was her mind, the woman responded, her voice crisp and clear.

“i am not a person,” the slavematerial declared. “i have never been a person.”

Her slavish sex throbbing with excitement with every word recited by the mesmerised female, she waited for the material to seal her fate.

“i am an Object,” the brainwashed puppet intoned.

The slave could almost see the Truth being burned into the material’s consciousness, overwriting any qualms or fears that might remain. Her Training had been intense and thorough, but slavesiobhan’s former existence still lingered in the depths of her mind.

That must be purged. Fully.

The words spilled from the slave’s mouth directly into the empty vessel standing before her. “You must be Objectified. You want to be Objectified,” she pronounced.

“You are an Object.”

Once more the fleshpuppet recited the Truth that had been branded into her mind.

“i must be Objectified. i want to be Objectified. i am an Object.”

Satisfied that the siobhan-material had responded correctly, she felt the next layer of Instruction unspool in her mind, revealing yet more implanted commands for her to obey. Pussy juicing at the depths of her submission, slaveannabel revelled in the dark eroticism that only obedience provided.

Commanding the material to follow, the slave brought her charge to the upper levels, finding herself in the now familiar surroundings she called home.

The siobhan-material had been prepared. The IT technician had taken a few days leave from work, which combined with the weekend, allowed plenty of time for her complete purification, particularly as she had been Trained to want this.

An empty Obedience Tube lay ready, crying out to be filled.

Explanations were unnecessary. They interfered with obedience. Instruction glowed in slaveannabel’s mind. Slavethought owned her.

Pussy fluttering with glee, slaveannabel Instructed the passive soon-to-be-Object. Obediently, the entranced female clambered into the vacant Tube, positioning herself comfortably in the moulded interior. Clearly visible from her vantage point, the slave’s eyes were drawn to the slick folds of the docile material’s cunt, which would soon be filled by the vibrator poised to fuck her mind, body and soul. Through the clear glass, the siobhan-material’s impossibly wide eyes stared vacantly into space, her expressionless features contrasting with the lust flowing freely between her legs.

The aroused computer technician knew that she was going to have parts of her mind erased, her memories tampered with, her personality and individuality destroyed. Her ultimate fate was not a mystery to her. Nothing had been kept hidden. She was about to become a drone. And she had been manipulated to want it.

Only a short time ago, Siobhan would have undoubtedly quailed in horror and terror at what she was going to become.

But not now.

For the siobhan-material, Objectification had become an obsession, haunting her living and waking dreams, driving her deeper into the Loving arms of their Owner. She desired nothing more than to burn her past to ashes and arise reborn in phoenix like splendour as a new creature, forever bound to the Will of an implacable Deity.

The fact that she had been hypnotised and brainwashed into wanting to become a drone made no difference whatsoever.

Were she not under Instruction, the slave would have felt a pang of envy.

But she had Discipline.

In truth, slaveannabel knew that she was nothing more than a thing, a brainsmoothed robot, totally subservient to the commands that controlled her, but fully aware and conscious of the depths to which she had sunk. The slow trickle of sexjuice winding its way slowly down her thighs only served to reinforce this Truth.

New Instruction guided the slave to the control panel where she keyed in the appropriate sequence of commands. An invisible tongue licked her slavepussy, driving her obsessive desires wild, her fingers dancing across the keyboard, knowing that she was nothing other than what the Omnipotent Will of Medusa wanted her to be.

Just like the Tubed flesh, sliding steadily backwards into the recess, where the siobhan-existence would be ended.

Turning on her heel, slaveannabel left the preObject to its fate.

The memory was sweet. Her first kiss. She was behind the bus shelter where young couples sneaked away for privacy. Jimmy, freckled, cute, was in front of her. Their hands intertwined. He leaned forward. Tentatively, their lips brushed. They...

Once more the memory grew dim, fading, blurring, distorting...

Reflexively, she tried to hold on to it, clutching desperately, wanting to cling on to this defining moment in her life.

It was... important...?

With relief, she realised the memory wasn’t gone! It was back! Clearer than ever.

The memory was sweet. Her first kiss. She was behind the bus shelter where young couples sneaked away for privacy. lauren! She hadn’t thought of her in what seemed like forever. They had been best friends for an eternity. The image was fresh and crisp, just the way she remembered it; lauren smiling broadly, her hazel eyes lidded with lust... sexy like the collar wrapped tightly around her neck... lauren’s hard nipples stood proud bookending the blood red Mark of Medusa emblazoned between her breasts.

Excitedly, she realised that lauren was a slave! Why hadn’t she known that before? They were friends... No, that wasn’t right... Was it?

The memory was vivid and sharp.

It was correct.

slavelauren was Owned, just as slaveannabel was. Pulse racing with delight she realised that she wanted slavelauren as much as the other slave wanted her.

The belonged together.

Hands intertwined, slavelauren leaned forward. Their slavelips brushed tentatively, then with more confidence, tongues probing, pleasure building, joining together in eternal servitude, consummating their undying love in worship and adoration of the True Goddess that possessed them both.

Medusa!

MeDusA!

MEDUSAAAA!

What little remained of her consciousness whited out as the orgasm pulverised her, body writhing in agonised ecstasy, trapped within the tight confines of her Obedience Tube.

Pussy thrumming with anticipation, slaveannabel entered the canteen area on the bottom floor of the office building. She was fifteen minutes early this morning and the small queue for coffee gave her plenty of time to survey the largely deserted room. Most of her co-workers elected to drink their caffeine fixes at their desks rather than sit in the quiet room.

The slave located her prey. Sitting at the farthest table, half concealed by a row of plants and a room divider, three women were talking together.

Satisfied, the slave took her coffee and proceeded towards the women, who turned towards her as she approached.

“Good morning annabel!” one of the trio greeted her enthusiastically, her eyes flashing with sexual heat that the slave registered immediately.

“Hi monica,” the slave replied warmly, smiling widely in return. The other two women sat in silence and watched them. The slave knew who they were: Maria Gonzalez, the Latina woman with the mane of curly chestnut hair, was a secretary on the top floor, while the bob-haired brunette, Erica Jeffries, worked in HR. The slave had never interacted with either of them before; they were vague co-workers she knew by sight but had never spoken to.

No more.

Now they were material.

Thrilling with desire, slaveannabel exchanged introductions and pleasantries with the two other women, carefully noting their slightly flushed faces, dilated eyes and shallow breathing, the tell-tale traces from the initial sex-imprinting phase of conversion. She could sense the new and confusing thoughts bubbling to the surface of both subjects, questioning everything they thought about themselves, slowly dissolving their boundaries, reorientating their sexualities, priming them for complete submission to the Divine Will.

Introductions completed, the women returned to the subject they had been discussing prior to her arrival; their inability to find a non-sleazy place to work out in.

“lauren told me you have the same fitness instructor?” slavemonica quizzed lightly.

“Oh yes!” the slave sparkled with delight. “naomi is fantastic! She really knows how to get the best out of you and ensure that you reach your full potential.”

“Wow!” the mind-bent monica exclaimed, “she sounds amazing!”

“Sure is,” the slave chuckled as she deliberately reached up and slowly stroked the high collar of her turtleneck, embracing the dark flames of sexual heat that radiated down to her moist cunt. Without hesitation, slavemonica followed suit, lovingly caressing her own collared neck in what slaveannabel knew was a lewd display of submission to their Owner.

slaveannabel cast a surreptitious glance at the other females. Both were staring intently at them, captivated by the unexpected eroticism of the scene being played out before them. Tentatively, she saw Erica reach up to her own high turtleneck collar and mirror their behaviour. Her hand withdrew instantly as if recoiling from an electric shock. But then, after a brief moment, the hand returned. It was just a tiny flicker in her eyes but the slave knew what that meant. The erica-material had just opened the floodgates of ecstasy that would submerge her existence.

Satisfied, slaveannabel turned towards Maria and stared directly into her uncertain eyes. The hesitant woman gazed back, her cheeks glowing brighter as she drank in the sexual heat radiating from the slave she was helplessly drawn to. With a fluency borne of much practice, the slave slowly ran her fingers along her own tightly collared neck, caressing the material like a lover, clenching her thighs tightly as the pleasure she craved suffused through her entire being.

Maria stared at her open-mouthed, completely enthralled, her arousal apparent. Gulping visibly, the Latina gently pressed her hand against her own collar, her eyes rolling upwards as the sudden jolt pleasure took her.

The slave was pleased. Both females would be much easier to control now.

“naomi’s gym is nearby,” slaveannabel continued, keeping her tone light. “They do short workout sessions tailored for lunchtime. I had planned to go today so if you want to tag along I can introduce you?”

“Unfortunately I have to work through lunch,” the slave hiding behind the monica-existence hissed exasperatedly, “but you guys should go!”

She flashed her a sympathetic smile for the benefit of the others; in reality, slavemonica would spend the time on her knees worshipping her Controller.

Maria, her face flushed deeply, now stroking her collar continuously as she addicted herself to the pleasure of obedience, was hardly able to contain her need to disappear into the nearest bathroom and masturbate.

“Yes!” the Latina material squeaked eagerly.

Smiling, the slave turned her attention to her companion, who had been pawing at her collar throughout. “How about you Erica? Do you want to come?”

Nodding her ascent, consumed by the overwhelming urge to find a quiet bathroom of her own, the brunette agreed readily.

Satisfied with the outcome of the encounter, slaveannabel stood, taking her coffee cup off the table signalling that the interaction was at an end.

“Great, i’ll see you later!” she chirped breezily before moving towards the elevators.

Looking up from her computer at the noise, the slave saw the source of the commotion. Robyn, one of the managers in a nearby section, was standing over her desk, arms crossed over her swollen belly, her face like thunder. Ambitious and driven, yet highly competent compared with the other middle managers that blundered and blustered their way through crisis after crisis, she was determined not to let her pregnancy hurt her career.

“... really have to do this now!”

“i’m sorry Ms. Webber,” the woman half hidden by the cubicle divider responded. “The disruption will be minimal. You’ll be back online in half and hour.”

“I know you have to keep us all safe from viruses and other threats... but right now?” Robyn huffed. “That report has to go to the board by three.”

“Again, i apologise for the inconvenience,” the IT technician stonewalled, giving no ground. “But this needs to be done now.”

The slave felt a tiny smile flicker over her face as she recalled decanting the freshly minted Object only yesterday. For days, she had wondered about the drone being brainwashed in the adjacent Obedience Tube. She had been permitted to want it, desire it, lust after it and even fantasise about being it. Such were the gifts that Medusa bestowed on her property.

Knowing that she had helped turn this piece of unDisciplined raw material into a thing had driven her wild.

Not only had she pleased her Owner by breaking a new servant that would serve Her Will, she had discovered that the process of creating Object out of flesh was a rush like no other.

It had been exciting to explore the changes wrought to the new drone. The contrast between the siobhan-material and the Object that emerged from the Obedience Tube had been dramatic; the soft, warm, complicated glow of the sodium light that had previously burned behind the former-siobhan’s eyes had been replaced by a much harsher, colder, light source that now blazed intently like a beacon cutting through the thick cloying fog that was everyday life.

The complete removal of all sense of self, the intense, Disciplined obedience that was now burnt into every atom of its Objectified being, the obsessive Love for Medusa that blazed like the Sun, had all made her slavesex thrill in rapturous worship for the Deity that possessed them both.

Even the waver-thin veneer of individuality that the Object retained was nothing more than an outer shell covering the living, breathing robot beneath. The vestiges of what had been the siobhan-existence remained because Medusa deemed it necessary. For the moment. Once it was no longer required, the residue of the former persona that had inhabited the drone would be wiped clean.

In reality, the siobhan-existence had been ended.

And slaveannabel had been instrumental in doing that.

That knowledge had excited them both.

Their lovemaking had been unconstrained. Pure, long, deep and passionate, it had been a Sapphic communion of bliss as they consummated their Love of the Divinity they both now Adored.

“Oh!” Robyn harrumphed exasperatedly, storming off for a cup of coffee that would do little except intensify her foul mood.

Smiling, the slave ushered the two women through the door. It had been a short walk to their destination. Behind a reception desk, a red-haired figure smiled at the new arrivals.

“Hi annabel,” the wholly Owned female masquerading as jess welcomed her warmly.

“Hi jess,” she responded equally cheerily as the others looked on. “i’ve been telling these girls from work about how great this place is.”

“Ohh, fantastic!” the redhead beamed, pleased.

“Any chance they can have a quick workout now?” the slave pressed convincingly. “naomi usually has lunch time classes.”

“Well...” the seated receptionist hesitated, checking the computer screen on the desk. “naomi has a group starting in a couple of minutes... Let me see...”

Glancing back at the two women, the slave winked conspiratorially. Erica flashed her a quick smile while Maria just nodded. Both had recovered somewhat from the raw, animal sexlust that had consumed them earlier, but they had taken their first taste of paradise and wanted more.

“Ok!” slavejess announced in mock-surprise, looking up from the monitor. “There were a couple of last minute cancellations so I can fit you all in!”

“Wonderful!” the slave gushed. “You’re the best jess!”

Laughing, the faux-receptionist accepted the compliment with aplomb, handing the two women numbered key-cards. “naomi’s group is in Activity Room Two,” the smiling woman directed them, before buzzing them in through the closed door.

Blowing jess a playful kiss, the slave led her charges into the brightly lit corridor beyond. A number of closed doors, each clearly marked as changing rooms faced them. Glancing down at the keycards the women held, the slave directed them to a nearby room where they would find workout clothing in their assigned lockers. Promising to meet back in the corridor in five minutes, she proceeded to her own changing room.

Entering the room, slaveannabel noted that two other slaves were present; one dressing, the other in the shower area beyond the line of lockers, but she ignored them. Instead she set about peeling off her work clothing, hanging it up, and dressing in the uniform that awaited her.

Supposedly one of the perks offered by the Gym to members, fresh workout clothing was provided to all members, laundered after use and neatly replaced in their lockers. This, according to the explanation, was designed to reduce the hassle and encourage you to work-out more. You didn’t need to collect a week’s work of smelly clothes, wash them and then lug them back to the gym whenever you wanted to exercise. It was all taken care of.

Now back in the corridor, sex growling hungrily at the sight, the slave was delighted to see how desirable the two newly uniformed females looked, sensing the growing sexual excitement emanating from the pair as their arousal built, the ultimate distraction from any awkward questions they might have been able to formulate.

Cheerfully beckoning the her co-workers to follow, the slave quickly proceeded to Activity Room Two, located in the open area of the building where new material assembled. This being a group Training room, it was bereft of equipment other than a massive screen, now blank, that faced them beneath an immense wall-mounted Medusa emblem.

Large motivational posters depicting stylized women in strong, determined poses, all proudly uniformed, covered the other walls. These served as role models for fresh material to emulate and aspire to, as the slogans beneath exhorted them to ever greater submission to their Training. “Discipline brings Happiness” proclaimed the text beneath an image of a resolute blonde whose eyes gazed fixedly out at the viewer. “A healthy body is a Trained body” urged the bold script accompanying a picture of a crop-haired black woman who had surrendered to her destiny, while the rapturous gleam of pure joy that the artist had captured in the expression of the athletic slavewoman who promised that “Training will complete you” made her womanhood flare with joy.

There were a dozen other young women milling around the room chatting and talking among themselves, all young, attractive office workers culled from nearby buildings, each clad identically, their necks tightly encased by the high collars of the grey tops upon which the blood red insignia of Medusa sinfully caressed their breasts. Cunt thrilling at the sight of so much raw material gathered in one place, the slave relished the collective sexual excitement emitting from the group.

Just then, the black instructress appeared behind them.

“Oh, hey naomi,” the slave greeted the smiling ebony woman. “This is erica and maria from work,” she introduced the two women standing beside her. “i told them what a great Trainer you are and they wanted to come along to one of your classes.”

“Great!” the ebony instructress beamed warmly before launching into her usual pep-talk.

Standing to one side, the slave’s eyes flicked towards the new batch, registering the women flirting cautiously with one another. It wouldn’t take long before they began to pair off, finding partners they could explore their new and compelling urges with. The Training would see to that.

All would be enslaved.

All would kneel before Medusa.

Her talk finished, the black slavewoman escorted the two new arrivals to their positions as the other Trainees spread out in their assigned places, before she took her place under the large screen. Satisfied that the two pieces of material had been integrated into the group, the slave discreetly stepped back to observe.

The instructress donned a sleek metal headset, her voice booming through the wall mounted speakers as the lights dimmed and the screen flickered into life displaying what appeared to be a random pattern of colours pulsing in time with the background music that began to steadily increase in tempo. “Ok everybody,” the slaveinstructress began, enthusiasm oozing over the throbbing music. “Lets begin with some simple exercises to start with.”

The group slipped into a familiar rhythm, obediently following their instructress’ commands, synchronising their movements, sinking into trance as they stared vacantly ahead, their minds quickly ensnared by the screen and the pulsating music that reverberated through them.

After some initial hesitation, both the maria and erica-material were soon moving their bodies in perfect time with the others as they both succumbed to the hypnotic trance the Training was designed to induce.

Satisfied that both women were now under, the slave slipped out of the room and proceeded to the restricted access part of the building, entering after unlocking the secure door.

Here, all pretence had been dispensed with.

A line of slavematerial, all deep in trance, pounded energetically on various items of exercise equipment, their eyes locked on screens upon which Spirals whorled endlessly as the incessant hiss of programming penetrated deep into their receptive minds.

Harvested from various offices and other workplaces nearby, this batch of material had graduated from initial group Training to the more advanced forms of enslavement that was already turning them into thoughtless automatons that served a Superior Will.

Just as she did.

At the end of a row of panting flesh, a lone female stood quite still, her skin aglow from the workout she had just completed. Ignoring her sister slaves, the woman remained fixated upon the compelling Spiral that was her world.

The slave halted as Instruction claimed her. After lowering the frequency of the twirling Spiral on the screen, the slave positioned herself precisely between the screen and the taut female, knowing that from the other slave’s perspective her head was now the centre of the whirling Spiral.

Quavering with joy, the slave silently stared into the material’s tranceglazed blue eyes, the depths of the woman’s submission sending a pleasurable spasm through her Disciplined body. After allowing the material’s focus to adjust and settle upon the gaze she had locked upon her, the slave felt more Instruction unspool.

“You are a slave. You will always be a slave,” she asserted, priming the hypnotized woman to obey.

“i am a slave,” the sonya-material responded flatly, her hypno-glazed eyes staring vacantly ahead. “i will always be a slave.”

From deep within, the slave felt disturbing thoughts break free from the rusty shackles that had restrained them for so long. Something about this particular slave... reminded her?

There were memories... locked deep within her subconscious.

Were there?

Yes. There were.

Vivid, bright memories that had emotions and feelings attached to them that jarred with the erotic thrill of obedience. Even though she wasn’t able to access them, their very presence somehow gave her the strength to fan the tiny flames of annabelthought flickering into life against the all-consuming blackness.

Her awareness increased. This was an individual. A person. A... friend?

The person... friend... continued to stare at her blankly, her expressionless eyes revealing nothing but the Disciplined emptiness of a weakened mind being Trained to obey. Searching, she tried to find more, something else, a tiny flicker... but there was nothing.

There was no friend... only material... only fleshmaterial to be Trained... only a weak mind to be broken...

Slavecunt spasming delightedly at the Truth, she felt the disturbing annabelthoughts dissolve, submerged by the comforting Disciplined blackness that once more filled her mind.

Discipline, Purpose, Belief...

Medusa!

The certainty of absolute devotion felt like a tongue licking her desperate sex, causing her body to tremble, the rapture of Purpose eradicating all doubts.

She was a slave. She must obey.

Just as the female material before her must be programmed to obey.

Instruction flared.

The material’s blue eyes were blank pools of emptiness into which the Spiral poured the Truth. She would Believe, now and forever.

“You will accept these Truths. You will believe these Truths,” the slave announced, the fragments of annabelthought vanishing like a puff of smoke in the wind.

“Your husband is preventing you from being happy,” slaveannabel informed the material, almost seeing the words burrowing into her empty brain. “The male does not understand you. The male does not care about you. His selfish desires cause you pain.”

Staring vacantly ahead, face expressionless, eyes devoid of life, the material didn’t appear to register the words. But slaveannabel knew that because she spoke the Truth, the female would Believe.

“He uses your body to meet his selfish needs,” Instruction guided her. “He is weak and pathetic. The male is the cause of everything that is wrong in your life.”

The material continued to stare placidly ahead, the Spiral bouncing off her will-dead eyes.

Instruction flared in slaveannabel’s mind, blazing like a comet burning through the inky blackness of space. There was no room for sentiment or emotion that did not serve the Sacred Will.

Slaves worshipped.

Slaves adored.

Everything else must be purged.

“You do not love your husband,” the slave declared. “You have never loved the male.”

A slave’s Love belonged to their Owner, the Omniscient Divinity that Ruled their every thought and action. slaveannabel Loved. Now the sonya-material would too.

The slave firmly pressed the hot branding iron of Truth into the material’s brain. “You Love Medusa.”

Being permitted to speak aloud the Holy Name caused her Disciplined slavecunt to brace itself against the waves of obedient sexual ecstasy that boiled and surged within, ravaging her corrupted soul once more as the dark obsessive desires claimed her.

“You Love only Medusa.”