The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was five thirty-eight, and Jilly was looking at porn.

She never did so on the company’s time, although it would have been easy enough to get away with. It wasn’t like she didn’t spend half the time at the reception desk playing solitaire anyway; she finished her work most days before lunch. But Jilly had been temping long enough to have set her own rules, and one of those rules was no pornography during the work day.

Just maybe, it wouldn’t have been so easy to get away with; the company that Carter, Lynn and Chiang outsourced their network management to was pretty sharp. They probably knew about Jilly’s smut-surfing right now. But Jilly was a temp, and if the company got a hair up their nose about it, she’d just walk.

Jilly loved being a temp. The pay wasn’t so good, especially with the chunk she had taken out for health insurance, but she got to work with no strings attached. She was good—very good—at whatever she did; the last four companies she’d worked for had asked to hire her—McKinley had almost begged—but Jilly wasn’t interested. Six months here, eight there, and she was gone, on to the next workplace, the next job. It never got boring, and no one could pressure her to do anything.

Her current gig was pretty good. Receptionist work wasn’t Jilly’s favorite, but the office atmosphere was congenial and the pay was on the high side. The Misses Carter, Lynn, and Chiang had just started their firm, and they and their people were enthusiastic and friendly.

They’d almost certainly ask Jilly to stay, when her six months were up, after-work pornography or no. And she’d almost certainly decline. Jilly had to keep moving. That’s what Jillys did.

She sighed, and her eyes drifted from the excited woman on her monitor back to the clock. Ms. Chiang had asked her to stay late, to let in a potential client; since she wasn’t doing anything, Jilly agreed. Her willingness to go the extra mile was one of the reasons all those employers wanted her.

But now it was almost six, and the client wasn’t here, and-

The door opened.

Jilly sat up a little straighter, and minimized the spread-legged image on her screen. She put on her receptionist smile.

It slipped only a fraction as the woman came in. She was gorgeous. A classic beauty, and perfectly framed as such: auburn hair in a complicated perm, lips a dark red, eyes a pale blue. She was wearing a cream-colored skirt and jacket, which only increased the aura of power and glamour that seemed to electrify the air around her. She looked like a Movie Star.

Jilly was quite smitten.

“Hello,” she chirped, not too smitten to do her job. “Welcome to Carter Lynn and Chiang. Are you Ms. Snowdon?”

“I am,” the woman said, her eyes still scanning the office. Her voice was quiet but powerful, a voice for stating facts. “I am here for Miss Chiang. She is waiting?”

“Uh, yes,” Jilly replied, a bit discombobulated by Ms. Snowdon’s phrasing. “She said to show you right in.”

The cool blue eyes finally swung around and hooked onto Jilly, and she stifled a little shiver. “Then show me,” the woman said, her eyes coolly inscrutable, and suddenly Jilly was no longer enjoying the Hollywood Movie Star but instead fearing the ice-hearted businesswoman, who wouldn’t hesitate to step on anyone in her way.

It was just as pleasurable, in its way.

Jilly stood up and smiled. “This way,” she indicated, and walked the short distance to Gwendoline Chiang’s office. She rapped on the closed door.

“Ms. Chiang? Ms. Snowdon is here.”

“Show her in,” Ms. Chiang replied. Jilly took hold of the doorknob, and looked up at Ms. Snowdon.

Ms. Snowdon was looking back at her.

Those eyes had her again, staring into her, and Jilly had the sudden feeling of being on an auction block, naked, with her buyer examining exactly what she’d just paid for, and considering what she’d have it do.

Jilly swallowed, and swung the door open. A small smile curved one corner of Ms. Snowdon’s red, red lips, and then she walked past, and into the office.

Ms. Chiang, seated behind her desk, smiled at her, then looked away from her guest for a moment. “Jilly, could you stay just a little longer? I may have some things that need to be worked on after Ms. Snowdon’s visit, and I could really use the help.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Chiang,” Jilly said. “Can I get either of you anything?”

“No,” Ms. Snowdon replied quickly. “No, thank you... Jilly.” The way she emphasized Jilly’s name gave her a chill. “We’ll need some privacy now.” She hadn’t turned, but remained facing Ms. Chiang, who was looking a touch irritated at having her employee ordered around by her client.

“Oh, uh, sure thing. Just buzz me if you want anything.” Jilly paused, but the women were locked into some sort of staring contest, so she backed up and closed the door.

Safely in the hall, Jilly gave in to the shiver that she’d been repressing since Ms. Snowdon first looked at her. That woman was... scary.

And exciting.

Jilly looked down at the desk clock and rolled her eyes.

Eight o’clock.

With a sigh, she leaned back in the chair. What were they doing in there? Didn’t Jilly get to go home? Didn’t Jilly get to have dinner? Just the thought set her stomach to growling again.

She considered the picture on her screen, a naked woman with slicked-back hair bound to an X-frame, shiny silver clips on her nipples. An old picture, but a favorite. Jilly had exhausted the new stuff half an hour ago.

She had no idea who the woman was; she’d never seen her in any other pictures. But they had a connection, Jilly and she, like lovers in an old but recurring dream. They’d never met, but Jilly had seen her naked, and she had made Jilly come. Jilly wondered if the model ever thought about that; all the people she got off, none of whom she’d ever know.

Of course Jilly never masturbated in the office. That would have been... no, she just sifted through the pictures here, on the not infrequent occasions she had to stay late, and sent the best back to her home account for later enjoyment. She looked at the clock again.

Eight oh five.

Okay, enough was enough. Jilly stood up, and walked back to Ms. Chiang’s office. She listened at the door, but didn’t hear anything. Had they left? Without telling her? The suite had a back door, but Ms. Chiang would never...

Jilly turned the handle, opened the door, and gasped.

Ms. Chiang was kneeling on the floor stark naked.

Her mouth was open, hanging, and a long trickle of spit hung from her lip and clung to her breast.

She had been staring up at Ms. Snowdon, but at the sound of the door, her head turned to focus on Jilly, slowly, so slowly, as though it were caught in honey. Not to focus on Jilly, no, merely to face her—her eyes were huge, glassy, lost. There was no focus in them.

Jilly swallowed hard as Ms. Snowdon, still dressed and looking down at Ms. Chiang’s kneeling form, also turned her head to look. Her eyes glittered as well, but there was far too much focus in them.

Caught in those eyes, Jilly was suddenly terribly afraid.

But then Ms. Snowdon looked back down at Ms. Chiang, a hand lifting to touch her chin.

“Gwendoline,” she whispered, turning Ms. Chiang’s unresisting head back towards her. “Gwendoline. Look back into the light, Gwendoline. You know that it owns your mind. You know that there is nothing else beside it.”

There was a light there, at Ms. Snowdon’s waist—Jilly could see the white pulses reflecting in Ms. Chiang’s glassy eyes. Her body tightened a little as her eyes fixed on it again, her back straightening, her breasts pushing forward. The hand on her chin raised it, closing her open mouth. The streamer of spit snapped and fell to her breast. Her lips still glistened.

“Good girl. There is nothing but the light, and the light owns you. Tell me, Gwendoline, about the light.”

“The light... owns me,” Gwendoline whispered, and Jilly stifled a whine. “The light owns my mind. The light fills my mind. The light fills my mind, and stifles my thoughts. I have no thoughts. I belong to the light. The light owns me.”

“And the light is in your mind, Gwendoline. It owns your mind, and fills it, and when you see the light the fact that it owns you is all that you can think about, and all that you can understand.”

“The light owns me. It is all that I can think about, all that I can understand. The light is in my mind. The light owns my mind. The light fills my mind. The light fills my mind, and stifles my thoughts. I have no thoughts. I belong to the light. The light owns me.”

A moment passed, Jilly frozen in the door, her heart hammering and her pussy tingling like a live wire, Ms. Chiang naked on her knees and staring at the light at Ms. Snowdon’s waist, Ms. Snowdon looking down on her.

Then Ms. Snowdon nodded, and turned to look at Jilly again. Jilly’s eyes rose from the woman on the floor.

“Close the door,” Ms. Snowdon said, her voice cool and commanding. “And wait right there. I’ll attend to you shortly.”

Jilly barely felt the doorknob as she gripped it, and swung the door closed.

She should get help. She should call the police. She should call the partners. She should walk right past her desk, and out the door, and never come back.

Instead, Jilly stayed where she was.

Had she seen...? Was that really...?

Ms. Chiang, naked, on her knees. Ms. Chiang, mindless repeating that the light owned her mind. Ms. Chiang-

No, not Ms. Chiang. Gwendoline. It was too hard to think of the woman on her knees in there as Ms. Chiang. Ms. Chiang knelt to nobody.

But Gwendoline had been shameless.

And aroused. In her mind, Jilly could still see her nipples, dark brown and hard. Her smooth stomach, her dark pubis crouched beneath. Had she been enjoying it? How wet had she been?

As wet as Jilly was now?

This was stupid. That woman was dangerous. Jilly had looked into her eyes, and she knew that this wasn’t a lovers’ game, that Gwendoline had not invited her girlfriend here for some consensual hypnosis and sex. She knew that, right then, in that room, Ms. Chiang was becoming somebody’s pet.

If only that didn’t turn her on so terribly much.

She had always been asked to stay, always been offered things, always had promises made to her. Her employers, her boyfriends, her girlfriends. They’d all loved her and wanted to make her happy.

None of them had ever ordered her to stay.

Oh, God, she had to get out of here. That woman was dangerous, so dangerous, and this was exactly what Jilly was most vulnerable to, what lurked in the dark moist corners of her mind and whispered obscene nothings to her. A woman just like that, who came and took and gave only what it amused her to give.

Jilly couldn’t help touching herself, and as her finger came down on her steaming panties just the lightest pressure made her whine.

She heard a hand on the door and whined again, helplessly, louder, and she thought she heard a chuckle.

Then it was opening, and Ms. Snowdon was standing in front of her, cool, beautiful, immaculate. And scary as hell.

Drawn by her eyes as she was, Jilly managed to look past her, to see Gwendoline—no, Ms. Chiang—seated at her desk. Her shirt was on, as was her jacket. She was writing something. Jilly blinked in surprise.

Then Ms. Snowdon made a soft ‘hm’ noise, and Jilly swallowed and looked at her, guiltily, like a schoolgirl caught looking out the window.

“You’re still here,” she said coolly.

“I... uh...” Jilly let it trail off.

“Don’t worry about explaining. I shall find out why soon enough.” Ms. Snowdon gave Jilly a small smile, then stepped out of the office and closed the door.

Jilly realized she was breathing hard, almost panting, and closed her eyes to summon her concentration. Her jaw quivered.

“Jilly,” Ms. Snowdon said quietly, almost a whisper, and Jilly’s eyes opened to find her standing close, moving around her shoulder. She smelled good.

“Such an interesting name. On an interesting girl,” she observed, stepping around behind Jilly’s back. Jilly didn’t turn around.

“Some women would have gone to the police,” Ms. Snowdon said, emerging into Jilly’s sight around her left shoulder. “Most women would have called someone. Perhaps Miss Carter, or Miss Lynn.”

Now she was in front again, and Jilly was staring at those dispassionate blue eyes. No, not dispassionate—curiosity lurked in them.

But no sympathy.

“They would have raced back here, of course, to find Ms. Chiang quite in possession of her faculties, and entirely puzzled as to what sort of hallucination her receptionist had been having.”

She raised a long finger to her lips, the red nail a harder gloss than the red lipstick it touched.

“But you... you didn’t call them. You didn’t call anyone. You stayed right where I told you to. And you’re not even my slave yet.”

The word ‘yet’ sent a shiver across Jilly’s breasts, but Ms. Snowdon appeared not to notice.

“Do you know what I’m doing in there, Jilly?”

Jilly licked her lips. “You... you’re...” She shook her head. The words wouldn’t come out. Her heart was hammering too fast.

“I’m turning your Miss Chiang into my thrall, Jilly. I’m melting her mind and re-forming it into something new—the mind of an eager slave.” She let her head tilt just slightly to one side. “After tonight, Miss Chiang will belong to me, body and soul. But that you guessed that, didn’t you?”

Jilly just panted.

“Speak.”

“Yes. Yes, yes I did,” Jilly blurted.

Ms. Snowdon nodded slowly. “And yet here you are, just waiting your turn.” A small smile slowly tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I believe I know why.” Her elegant eyebrows flicked once.

“You want to be my slave too.”

Jilly tried to reply, but the words weren’t there. She clenched her lips together in frustration.

“You do...” Ms. Snowdon said quietly. She reached out her lacquered nail and stroked Jilly’s cheek, sending a cascade of trembling through Jilly’s body.

“Jilly, are you willing to sit quietly and let me hypnotize you? Knowing that to do so means you will become my slave for the rest of your life?”

Jilly looked aside. Her cheeks glowed like fire, and it still was nothing compared to the heat in her pussy.

“Answer me.”

She had just enough breath to make it audible.

“Yes.”

Jilly stared at the floor. Even Ms. Snowdon’s feet were elegant.

Then she realized that Ms. Snowdon was opening the door to Ms. Chiang’s office.

“Come inside,” she said.

Surprised, still flushing, Jilly followed her back inside.

Ms. Chiang looked up at them. “Jilly,” she said, “Ms. Snowdon.” She frowned, a line appearing between her eyebrows. “What...?”

“Gwendoline,” Ms. Snowdon said, “What does the word ‘orchidaea’ mean to you?”

“It means that I must sleep and obey,” Ms. Chiang replied. She got a confused look on her face, and blinked several times. “Sleep... and obey,” she whispered to herself, as she smoothly went limp, leaning forward over her desk, her head drooping, her eyes closing.

Ms. Snowdon had reached down to the bauble dangling from her belt. She turned it on, and it began to pulse with light.

“Gwendoline,” she said, “I have something here. Something you must look at. Remain asleep, Gwendoline, but raise your head, and open your eyes.”

Slowly, eerily, Ms. Chiang did as she was bid, her eyes slowly opening but her face remaining slack.

“Do you remember this?” Ms. Snowdon asked.

“Yes,” Gwendoline breathed.

“What is it?”

“It is the light,” she whispered. “The light that owns my mind. The light that stills my thoughts. The light that I must obey.”

“It is,” Ms. Snowdon confirmed. “It is the light that owns your thoughts. It has you now, Gwendoline. You have looked into it and now you belong to it. Tell me, Gwendoline, do you obey the light?”

“I must,” Gwendoline sighed. “It owns me.”

“Then look into it, Gwendoline, and with every beat of your heart surrender to it a bit more. Know, with each beat, that you belong to it and will never get away.”

Ms. Snowdon turned her head to look at Jilly.

“Take her clothes off,” she instructed.

Jilly looked at her incredulously.

Ms. Snowdon’s frown felt like an approaching tornado.

“Take her clothes off,” she said again, her voice dark with menace.

Jilly nodded, slowly becoming quickly, big up and down head shakes, and then she walked over behind the desk where Ms. Chiang sat slack-faced and staring at the light.

“You are rising to your feet now, Gwendoline,” Ms. Snowdon said, her voice once again level and cool. “The light is lifting your body, up onto your very tip-toes.”

Jilly stood there, trying not to shiver, as Gwendoline stood up, her gaze locked on the pendant at Ms. Snowdon’s waist. Her leather office chair rolled quietly backwards.

Jilly looked up and found Ms. Snowdon’s gaze upon her. Swallowing, she pulled the chair farther back out of the way, and reached for Ms. Chiang’s jacket.

Ms. Chiang offered no resistance as Jilly slid it off of her arms. She tossed it onto the chair.

Of course, that had been the easy part.

Jilly gathered herself and stepped up next to Ms. Chiang. She only glanced once at the slack face and the glassy eyes—in them she could see the slow pulse of the light. Ms. Chiang was whispering, promising the light her total obedience.

Jilly focused on the buttons. One by one, she undid them, and then eased the shirt back off of Ms. Chiang’s arms. She was wearing a white bra underneath. Jilly swallowed, and unclasped it, letting it fall forward and off.

She was stripping her boss.

And she was doing so at the orders of a woman who fully intended to enslave her. To hypnotize her just like she had hypnotized Gwendoline—to make her into exactly the sort of passive drone that Jilly was undressing right now.

She unzipped Ms. Chiang’s skirt, and pulled it down.

As she gingerly reached for Ms. Chiang’s panties, she realized that they were soaking wet, the waistband almost the only dry part of them, and as she realized that she became aware that she could smell Ms. Chiang, smell how hot she was, how in heat, and she realized further that she must smell exactly the same way, and she was suddenly aware of just how wet her own crotch was.

Stifling a whine, Jilly slid down Ms. Chiang’s panties. She knelt down to the floor, wondering how to get Ms. Chiang to step out of them. Her eyes couldn’t help but rise to stare at Ms. Chiang’s glistening pussy, so close to her head now—it was not shaven but trimmed close, the lips shining with each pulse of the light.

Jilly thought about losing herself to the light that way, seeing it only as a reflection on another slave’s pussy, and then she did whine.

“Good,” Ms. Snowdon said, and Jilly wasn’t sure which slave she was talking to.

“Come here, Gwendoline,” she said softly, and Ms. Chiang high-stepped slowly and gingerly out of the panties crumpled around her feet, then glided past Jilly’s crouching form, moving smoothly around the desk. Jilly stood up.

Ms. Chiang, naked, beads of pussydew trickling down her inner thighs, walked slowly towards her hypnotist, her body loose, her head staring limply at the pulsing light.

“We’re going to go somewhere now, Gwendoline,” Ms. Snowdon said. “Not far. Just down the hall. And when we get there, I am going to give you something. Ask me what I am going to give you.”

“What are you going to give me?” Ms. Chiang replied in a soft but clear voice.

“I’m going to give you the light. I’m going to put it inside your head, so that it will control you always. So that you will always obey. You will become its slave forever. Won’t that be nice?”

Ms. Chiang didn’t reply, only stared at the light that would soon burn forever in her mind.

Jilly stood behind the desk, trembling.

Ms. Snowdon looked at her.

“As for you, Jilly...” she said it slowly, drawing out the ‘J’, “you will take off your clothes and wait for me here,” she pointed at the floor at her feet, “kneeling. Once I have Gwendoline guiding herself ever deeper into slavery, I will return and begin your programming.”

Jilly shivered.

“Now then,” she said, turning back to the glassy-eyed woman standing next to her. “Come with me, Gwendoline. We need to give Jilly some privacy to prepare herself.”

She lifted the pendant from her waist, dangling it at shoulder height, and walked slowly out of the room. Gwendoline trailed silently after her. As they left, Ms. Snowdon reached around her entranced slave to close the door.

Then Jilly was alone.

She shivered again, wrapping her arms around herself.

It was a choice. Snowdon was giving her a choice. She could run away, crawl out a window and run away, and never come back. She wouldn’t tell anyone—couldn’t tell anyone—but Snowdon wouldn’t come after her. Why should she? She could have all the beautiful women she wanted. Why would she want Jilly?

But she did. She’d promised to come back.

If Jilly stayed... she’d become a thing. An object. She’d do whatever she was told, helplessly, eagerly. Anything. She’d fuck whoever she was told to, enslave whoever she was told to... kill, whoever she was told to.

Jilly had no doubts about Ms. Snowdon’s ability to make her slaves kill.

She should run. Crawl out the window right now and run away.

Jilly pulled up her shirt.

She dropped it on top of Ms. Chiang’s, and then took off her bra. Ms. Chiang’s office was always cold—it made it easier to wear a suit jacket—but Jilly’s nipples couldn’t have gotten any harder. She undid her belt and stepped out of her pants.

All that were left were her panties. Jilly always wore sexy underwear—it made her feel good to know that, underneath, she was being sultry, and no one knew but her.

If she stayed... no. She was staying. Since she was staying, soon enough she’d wear whatever she was told to. The only satisfaction lacy panties would ever give Slave Jilly was the satisfaction of pleasing Ms. Snowdon.

Jilly slipped her underwear down and lifted a leg, plucking them from around her ankle. They were dark with her sexwet, and the pulsing in her pussy suddenly reasserted itself and she moaned and leaned forward onto the desk.

Exerting tremendous willpower, she kept her hands away from her pussy, but the thought that soon she would never have any willpower ever again was too much and she came, hips bucking and knees going weak underneath her. Juice ran down her thighs, and she pictured Ms. Chiang dripping and following Snowdon obediently from the room and knew that soon she would be doing the same.

She was lying on the desk, now, breasts mashed flat, sodden underwear still crooked around one finger. Jilly gathered herself, calming her breathing, and pushed herself to her feet. The office door was still closed.

Jilly dropped the wet panties onto the rest of her clothes. The thought struck her that a pair of sodden panties was the last possession she would ever own, and she shivered. Then, naked, she walked around the desk, and knelt on the floor.

The office was cold.

Her breathing began to slow down. She was naked, kneeling, in Ms. Chiang’s office.

God, what if this was some horrible prank? The rest of the office was about to break in and find her buck naked on the floor?

No. She knew it wasn’t.

It was really cold in the office. Jilly shivered, and looked at the goosebumps on her arms.

Somewhere, down the hall, Ms. Chiang was being erased. Was being taught to erase herself.

Jilly squeezed her thighs together, and hugged herself.

Was this really what she wanted to do?

To become a slave?

Not just a fun-slave, a sex-slave, but a brainwashed slave. Ms. Snowdon could reach into every corner of her mind and erase whatever bits she didn’t like. All those things that made up “Jilly”, gone.

What if she erased everything?

Jilly could wind up naked in an apron somewhere, shoveling coal into a boiler, her mind empty, her personality dead. Knowing nothing but drudgery until she finally got old and died.

Was that what she wanted? What she was willing to risk?

Was she really pretty enough to interest Ms. Snowdon?

Jilly was a pretty girl, and she knew it. She was between lovers, but it was never hard to find the next one. But Ms. Snowdon could have anyone she wanted. Would she even want Jilly for sex?

This was a bad idea.

It was so cold in the office. How did Ms. Chiang stand it?

Jilly shivered again. The juice making her thighs sticky was turning cold.

She should run. She should grab her clothes, and run.

Snowdon was going to obliterate her whole life.

Her parents. Her friends. Here she was kneeling naked on an office floor and waiting for the woman who would come in and destroy everything she was, just because it turned her on.

Go, Jilly. Get up and run.

Jilly hugged herself tighter.

This is it, she thought. Last chance. Get up and-

The door opened.

Ms. Snowdon walked in, saw Jilly, and smiled.

“Good girl,” she said.

She closed the door behind her, and walked slowly over to Jilly. Jilly’s head tilted as she approached until she was looking almost straight up at her.

The blue eyes reached down into her soul.

“Now, Jilly, it’s your turn.”

Snowdon moved a hand to her waist, and lifted the bauble. It was round, and clear, dangling from a silver cord. She held it in front of Jilly’s face, just far enough away for Jilly to focus on it.

“Look at the bauble, Jilly, and do not look away.”

Jilly looked at the bauble.

“I’m pleased you didn’t run. You couldn’t have gotten away, of course. You were mine the moment I walked into the office door; I had expected to have my slave Gwendoline install certain programs on your computer and bring me my pretty new receptionist slave later, but it’s much more gratifying to take you now. Like this. Had you tried to run, of course, Gwendoline would have told me where you lived, and you would have found yourself coming to my house trussed up in the back of a van rather than naked inside my limousine. But you were mine the instant I laid eyes on you.”

Jilly swallowed and stared at the bauble, waiting for the light.

“But because you were good enough to wait naked in your former employer’s office for me, I shall tell you what I am going to do to you,” Snowdon said. “First, I shall hypnotize you. Deeply. Until we are down far enough in your mind that all you know is truth—you will tell me everything I ask, and you will believe utterly the things I shall tell you in return.”

Jilly stared at the bauble, breath racing through her nose.

“Once you are wholly entranced, I shall ask you some questions. Who you are. What you love. What shames you. You will have no secrets from me, Jilly. As hypnotized as I shall make you, you will obediently tell me everything. All the things in your life that you hide, I will know. You will give them to me.”

Ms. Snowdon paused. “And then, once I know who you were, I shall begin to change you. Tonight, because time is one of the few things that does not obey my command, I shall merely make you my slave. I shan’t change what you love, what you hate, what you remember. That will come later. Tonight, all I am going to do is enslave you. I am going to place a harness around your mind, a bridle on your will, and when you wake from your trance you will be my slave. Your mind will go only where I instruct it, forevermore. Your will will lie passive and unresisting until I give it impulse and direction, and then it will obey me to its utmost.

“Do you understand what I am going to do to you, Jilly?”

“Yes,” Jilly whispered.

“Are you ready to become my slave?”

“Yes,” she barely breathed.

“Then look into the light, slave,” Mistress Snowdon said, and turned on the bauble. It began to pulse.

Jilly looked into it.

It pulsed, slowly, in and out, and Jilly could feel it, reaching towards her, receding, reaching towards her, receding. She stared at it, and could feel it drawing her, catching her, and her focus moved in, and out, and in, and out, as though her mind was moving forward and back inside her head.

The rest of the room was falling away, was gone, and Jilly looked into the light. She was pulsing with it, now—her breathing, the beat of her heart, and above all her mind, moving into it, falling away from it, moving into it, falling away from it, and soon the light was all there was, moving in, and out, and then in and out ceased to have any relevance and there was just pulsing, Jilly and the light together...

“Wake up, slave.”

Jilly blinked. She looked up.

Ms. Snowdon was looking down at her. She had a half-smile on her lips, a gentle sneer.

“Stand up,” she said.

Jilly gasped as she stood up.

“I can feel it!” she exclaimed softly. “I can feel it on my mind!” She stared at Ms. Snowdon. “I can feel your bridle on my mind! It... controls me.”

“Yes,” Snowdon said.

“I had to stand up when you told me to.”

“You must do whatever I tell you to do.”

Jilly stared hard into those pale blue eyes. “I’m your slave,” she said wonderingly. “I can feel your straps all over my mind. Binding it. Squeezing it. I can only think, hrrr, what you want me to.”

“That’s right, slave. Now, stop thinking, and listen.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Jilly replied immediately, feeling the straps tighten on her mind. Her body echoed it, her posture stiffening, her hands pressing her hips.

Mistress looked at her watch. She smiled.

“Jilly,” she said, letting the ‘J’ linger on her lips. “A pretty name for a pretty slave. I was wrong about you, Jilly, and I’m not often wrong.”

Jilly, the harness firmly wrapped around her mind, listened obediently and did not think.

“I told you that you were my slave the moment I walked in here. But I was wrong.” Mistress’ eyes glittered. “You’ve been my slave for much longer than that. You’ve always been my slave.”

Mistress shrugged her cream colored jacket off, and despite the tight control over her mind, Jilly felt a rush of excitement.

“You’ve told me all your secrets, Jilly. All the things you’ve always hid. And you’re not an independent woman at all.” She smiled. “You’re just a little weak-willed piece of pussy-candy.”

Now she was unbuttoning her shirt, and Jilly’s pulse was racing.

“You’re a slave, Jilly, a slave hiding inside a free woman, and all I had to do was to collect you and let you out. I didn’t even have to hypnotize you—you did it all yourself. You were in trance without my ever saying a word.”

Her breasts were so beautiful.

“And when I did speak, you were already hearing the voice of your Mistress. The straps in your mind, Jilly, are of your own manufacture. I simply told you how to make them, and how to tie them, and then I took the reins. You handed them to me.”

She was taking off her skirt, and only the harness kept Jilly from dropping back to her knees, to worship her.

“You’re a slave, Jilly. You were born a slave, without any will at all. They sent you to school, taught you how to face the world, turned you into a free woman.”

She wore sexy panties, too. White, and satin, and lacy.

And damp.

“But you’re not a free woman. You never really have been. You’re a slave. You’ve always been a slave. An eager piece of pussy-candy, lusting for a firm hand to direct your slave thoughts.”

She smiled.

“And now I’m here, slave. I’m your greatest wish, your deepest fantasy. You will obey me for ever, and you will never think for yourself again.”

The harness was firm on Jilly’s mind, and her mind loved how it felt.

Mistress was peeling off her panties.

“You’re something truly special, Jilly-my-slave,” she said. “You’re pure. All I had to do was to free you, to turn you into the slave you have always known you were. I haven’t made you love me. You already did, because you knew I was your Mistress. I haven’t made you love slavery, because being a slave is branded on every fiber of your being.”

She slid her feet apart.

“All I did was to clip my leash to your mind.”

Although perfectly obedient, her mind firm in the harness, Jilly whined to see her treasure so near.

Mistress smiled.

“Eat me,” she said.

It was perfect bliss to obey.