The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

71.

Softly nude, Frances Stevens knelt in her daughter’s bedroom, moments or hours deep in a hypnotic trance. Her hands were clasped behind the small of her back, her thighs shyly parted. Her silently-moving lips and tongue gleamed with another woman’s dew. Behind her glassy eyes was only an obedience mantra.

Meredith and Leslie waited emptily. In the sliver of awareness Mistress left her with, it liquefied Meredith to watch her mother curved there, deepening herself.

She didn’t know where Mistress was. It turned her on to think Mistress might be watching her helpless toys, just outside their trapped gazes. Then it made her just as wet to wonder if Mistress, bored for now with her toys, had left them in trance and gone. None of them had enough will to stir a finger until she returned and let them remember how. Meredith listened to her fellow slaves breathe.

Mistress stepped into view. Meredith forgot even blankness and waited to be controlled.

Mistress looked at them. Leslie trembled under her gaze, falling into it. Mistress nodded and said evenly, “Sleep.”

Leslie’s eyes closed at once. Now only Meredith seemed awake with their Mistress.

It was her turn to feel Mistress’ stare.

“You prepared your mother well for me, slave. You ripened her mind with constant hypnosis and it fell into my hand with barely a plucking.”

Meredith enjoyed her praise, even knowing she deserved none. “I installed the triggers as you programmed me to, Mistress.”

“Do you remember hypnotizing your mother to implant them in her thoughts?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Frances had been lovely in her trance, though not as enchanting as she was now, dream-licking on her knees.

“I want to reprogram her with some new ones. She knows now that I am the hypnotist who will control her, and obedience will be simple and clear for what her mind will become. Do you understand, slave?”

Meredith tensed eagerly. “Yes, Mistress! Your new slave should respond only to triggers you put into her mind.” Truths came back to her, from the hypnotic sessions when Mistress had been brainwashing her from a captive into a slave. It seemed almost wrong that she should be able to control a woman Mistress coveted—but that had been Mistress’ will, and had served her purposes. Meredith had just been one tool using another. She was thrilled to have been so useful, and to be no longer needed.

“Your thoughts are correct, slave. Now you will decondition her for me.”

Meredith stiffened. “Yes, Mistress! She must obey only her hypnotist!”

Mistress laughed, and then spoke to her for a while. Meredith’s mind went blank.

She woke to hear herself repeating new orders, and waited to be told when to obey them. At a gesture she knelt right in front of her mother, who stared through her. In the place where trance held her, Frances still saw nothing but Mistress’ eyes and pussy. Meredith slid her thigh a little way between her mother’s, warm and silken. Close enough to kiss her.

She smelled Mistress on her mother’s mouth, and inhaled. She remembered it from her captivity, when Mistress used her as a pleasure toy, between brainwashing sessions. Mistress had taken her mother very, very deep this time, and her mother was still lost down there. She might never want to surface.

But her mother was a slave now. What she wanted mattered only for its utility in controlling her.

Mistress rested her hand on Frances’ head like a blessing. Frances went very still.

“You have no will.”

“I have no will,” Frances whispered in awe.

“My voice is your only thought.”

“Your voice is my only thought.”

“You are aware of your daughter now, kneeling before you.” Her mother focused on her, now that she had permission. “What is she?”

“She is your hypnotized slave,” Frances intoned. “She obeys you as I do.”

“Yes. She can no longer think anything but what I tell her to.

“As you shall, soon.” Meredith felt her mother’s thighs tighten around hers.

“When I touch your forehead, and until I touch it again, it will be her voice that controls you. What she tells you will alter your thoughts, and you will no longer remember thinking anything but what she instructs you to. Do you understand, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. I understand. My daughter’s voice will be my only thought. Until you touch me.”

She almost heard Mistress touch her mother, and then stared into her eyes.

“Listen and obey, Mother.”

“I listen, and I obey.”

“You remember now that I hypnotized you, Mother. Other things helped soften your mind, but I lulled you into a trance and taught you to sleep and obey. You learned very well, Mother. You are very obedient.”

“I am very obedient,” Frances whispered.

“Think of the amulet now, Mother.”

Frances’ gasp was tiny, distant. Half-dreamed.

“What does it mean to you, Mother?”

“The amulet relaxes me.” The weary monotone turned Meredith on very hard. “When I see the amulet, I must sleep, and I must obey the one who shows it to me.”

“No, Mother. Listen and obey.” The Mistress-scent in Frances’ face was sending Meredith into a trance of her own. Doing this was like kneeling and licking her owner. It felt so good to give up her insignificant hold on her mother’s mind, so only Mistress could control her now.

“You will not respond to the amulet. Seeing it will not hypnotize you or compel you to obey.”

“I will not respond to the amulet.” Frances didn’t hesitate as the new truth replaced the old. “Seeing it will not hypnotize me or compel me to obey.” She closed her mouth, thoughts altered, and knelt patiently for Meredith to keep reprogramming her.

Meredith wanted to flick her clit and just see that look on Frances’ face. But her own obedience made her keep deepening her mother’s.

“What happens, Mother, when I tell you that you are hypnotized now . . . ?”

Each time she freed her mother from a trigger’s control, she was making her mother easier to enslave. Mistress had left her more than enough mind to enjoy the irony.

Eventually she stopped, telling Mistress quietly that she was done.

Mistress touched Frances’ head again, and the entranced woman moaned with pleasure.

“Stand, slave.”

Mother and daughter obeyed together.

Their bodies had slid against each other and they still stood naked in each other’s heat. But for both of them, the voice that controlled them was more real.

Clare came back in. She wasn’t in trance, and her vibrancy and movement drove home to Meredith how deep Mistress had them all. Clare could see the contrast, too, and stood there, astonished to see them all zombified.

That lasted for the second it took her to look at Mistress. Into Mistress’ eyes.

The maid’s face went blank. She walked purposefully to her hypnotist’s side, one more slave awaiting orders. Then she was draping a robe across Frances’ shoulders while Mistress told Frances what to think, while she awaited further enslavement.

Mistress ordered Clare without looking at her. “Bring her to her room, put her to bed, and wait.”

“I obey,” Clare said quietly. With a gentleness that now seemed unlike her, she led Frances out.

Mistress instructed her two younger slaves for a while. When she left, they stripped and slid on their headphones, then climbed into bed and waited for the tones to tell them to fuck.

72.

They awoke together. Staring once into each other’s eyes, they rolled apart, gasping with the heat of being unable to respond. Leslie’s flavor was on her lips but Meredith remembered nothing of tasting her.

Her memory was erased as they sixty-nined for hours, each one’s thighs keeping the phones tight on the other. Licking and listening. Melting with orgasm.

Meredith started to touch herself.

Then whatever the headphones had whispered, while Leslie’s mouth burned it in, took over. She lost interest in masturbation and followed her girlfriend to the shower. They washed each other expressionlessly.

Meredith chose a knit minidress and ignored underwear. Then she went to her mother’s rooms.

There was no sign of Mistress. Frances reclined on a couch with a vague smile on her face and nothing on her body but a pink ribbon round her throat, and the mottling of passion bites above it.

“Good morning, Mother.”

Frances turned and blinked at her and started to cover herself, then just smiled. She stretched.

“You have a hot body, Mother.” Meredith looked deliberately at the sweep of Frances’ thighs. “You pleased her with it a lot, didn’t you?”

Her mother squirmed in slow motion. “That’s what my body is for, baby. Pleasing her—ohhhh!

“Mmmm!” She reached down and fingered her pussy, closing her eyes. “Ohhh, god, thank you, Alice!”

She turned back to Meredith. “She said she left things—like that. In my mind.” She was still turned on. Meredith wondered whether Frances would resist if she went over to the couch and took her.

“So how was your first night of hypnotic sex?” she asked instead.

Frances slowly sat up. “Fantastic. I was addicted to Alice’s body the first time we made love, but this way . . .” She glowed. “I know some of it’s just her suggestions. I mean, I know I couldn’t possibly have come for an hour straight . . . but I know I did. She told me to, and she’d done things to me, to my mind, that let me do that.

“On command.” She swallowed. “That’s what makes me so wet, Meredith. That she controls me that way. It’s so erotic to know I’ve given her that power over me.

“And that she’ll use it.”

“Does she have you hypnotized now, Mother?”

Frances looked down at herself and smiled. Kept looking, trapped by the sight of herself. “I’m not hypnotized. I just enjoyed lazing around like this. Imagining I’m a concubine in her mistress’ room. She has all that power, and all I’m for is waiting for her to come and use me again . . .”

“That’s a pretty ribbon, Mother.”

Frances’ hand flew to it. She rose off the couch to pad over to the mirror, fascinated again by her nudity but drawn to the silk. “She put it on me,” she said softly. “Last night, after she’d finished hypnotizing me and awakened me.

“Baby, I don’t remember anything that happened to me after I came to your suite. I have no desire to remember, and I know that’s her posthypnotic suggestion.” She licked her lips, evaluating the body she could please Mistress with.

“You were beautiful when you went under for her, Mother. Completely submissive to her.”

Frances smiled at her in the mirror. “Thank you. I hope so—you and Leslie are so pretty when she has you in her thrall.

“Last night . . . she woke me here, and I was naked for her. I don’t remember stripping, but it was so right to be that way. And she told me being hypnotized would make me sexy for both of us, and then I begged her to put me under.”

Frances blushed and then turned to face Meredith. “We played out a fantasy.” It excited her, making her even prettier.

“Alice was a vampire, and I was her spellbound prey. She was on the balcony. She called me in my dreams. Summoned me from sleep.”

Frances breathed slowly. “I was under her spell—I had no will, just the compulsion to hear and obey her. She called to me.

“I had to get out of bed. I had to . . . go to the window.”

They stared at each other. Each one reached up for her own breast.

“I was wearing just a negligee and a crucifix, and she let me stand there in the moonlight while she looked at me.” Frances stared at her daughter but she was seeing her lover again, the hypnotic vampire savoring her helplessness.

“She whispered and I just let the negligee fall. She looked at the crucifix and then she stared me deeper into trance. She told me I wanted to throw it away, to be vulnerable to her.

“I did. I obeyed her. I knew it was my last defense.” She swallowed. “I tossed it away and stood waiting, with nothing to protect me from her.”

She sighed deeply. “Not even my own will. I had no will.

“Then she told me to invite her across the threshold.” Frances gasped. “I wanted to slip down and please her there on the floor but I really was hypnotized, and I could do nothing but obey. I led her to the bed . . . lay down . . . she kissed my neck . . .”

She closed her eyes and opened them a little saner, her hand dropping away from her breast. “So now I’m her slave, waiting for the sun to set. To be claimed.” Turning back to the mirror, she touched the hickeys her vampire lover had left. “I want to wear these, Meredith. To show I’m hers. Better than a collar—they’re part of me. They are me.”

“You can, Mother. It’s your house.”

Sigh. “I wish I could.”

“Wear nothing but her marks, Mother. See where people look first.”

Frances mock-glared at her reflection. “Oh, you!”

“Maybe I need to hypnotize you into it, Mother.”

Frances whirled. “She didn’t give you my trigger, did she? Because I—”

“You’re hypnotized now, Mother.”

Frances’ back arched and her eyes widened, but then she blinked and smiled. “Sorry, dear. That didn’t work. Still thinking!” But she clearly wished it had. The need shone on her like sweat.

“Was that a trigger?”

The desire Meredith saw made her smile without answering, but it was sweeter to see “her” trigger as powerless as she was. The next compulsion was like a caress. She found the chain at her neck when she reached for it, and saw her mother inhale.

Dramatically she slid the chain over her head and held the amulet out before her mother, and Frances straightened, staring at it intently.

Then she looked back at her daughter, blushing. “Foiled again, Meredith. I’m immune to your sinister powers!”

Meredith smiled deeply. It still turned her on to have lost her power over Frances. She knew there was no real difference: when she’d hypnotized her mother for Mistress, she’d been nothing but a puppet herself, and even the amulet and the words had been Mistress’ choice. They were Meredith’s own programming.

But, as her mother had dazedly repeated last night, Meredith was a hypnotized slave. She didn’t question the absurdity of seeing a difference, much less exulting in it. And she was a very happy slave, to give up even an imaginary bit of power.

Only Mistress should have power. Slaves like Meredith needed none.

“I can still make you obey,” she said.

Frances grinned and put her hands to her hips in a mock-defiant pose. “Oh? Let’s see you—”

“Mindless slavebitch, Mother.”

When it hit Frances, it left her a moment to feel the trance happening before she succumbed. It wasn’t clear what emotion dimmed in her eyes.

Then they were glazed, as her body went slack. Her hands dropped beside her hips. She slid to attention like a well-oiled clockwork doll.

“I have no mind. I will obey,” she whispered when she was fully under. She stood nude and hypnotized and waiting for orders.

“When I wake you, Mother, you will be quite willing to leave here with me, and spend the day naked. You will want all the staff to see that your new guest controls your mind and uses your body, and made you like it. You will feel this way until I tell you to take the silk from your throat. Then you will lose the urge.”

“I understand and obey,” Frances confessed.

Meredith snapped her fingers.

Frances blinked and looked at her. “I was . . . wait. We were saying something about hypnotic triggers, weren’t we?”

Meredith smiled. “I asked Leslie to join us for a late breakfast, Mother. We can tell you about how you were programmed.” She gestured, and Frances grinned and followed her to the door.

“Umm—Mother? Did you want to put something on?”

Frances looked down at herself and preened. “Why?”

“Well . . . you look like a fucktoy, Mother. A very, very well-shaped fucktoy.” Mistress had made Meredith intensely aware of how sexy her mother was, and it seeped easily into her voice. Her mother seemed to feel it all along her skin and rose a little on her toes, posing automatically to show herself off.

She met Meredith’s eyes, and there was the faintest shine of terror in her own as she felt inhibitions sliding off her smooth skin. The taboo was still there, crackling in the air between them. It would be only a step for either of them to touch the other, hold her, bring her helplessly to the carpet to be fucked.

Her lips parted in a despairing little sigh. Meredith felt them on her pussy like thirsty velvet.

Meredith watched Frances’ hunger melt another piece of her soul. She herself was just a pretty lure, programmed to hypnotize Frances’ pussy, the way screen spirals had snared her mind. The sex slave in Meredith wanted to seduce this panting woman and writhe on the floor with her until they were pulled apart.

But being Mistress’ tool to erode the new slave’s will was so much more erotic. She waited.

“Baby?” Frances whispered. “Am I hypnotized now?”

“No, Mother. I think you’re just very wet.”

Frances gasped and settled back down, eyes drooping for a moment as though Meredith had stroked her. Now she looked half-tranced, and ready to let her daughter ravish her but too languid to beg.

“It’s just that, well . . . the rest of the staff may have heard the whispers that you and Alice are sleeping together now.

“But I don’t think more than a couple of them suspect you’re her bottom.”

That woke Frances up, but she just smiled. “Mmm. Prancing around like this might give that impression—especially if she were there too, dressed and beautiful and ohhhh . . .”

“Kneeling to her might clinch it,” Meredith agreed. They laughed slightly. “But I was thinking that you might, say, end up talking to Arnold about the landscaping, and he’d just be staring at your nude little pussylips.”

“Well,” Frances said, her eyes filming with lust, “then I’ll just have to tell him who my pussylips belong to, won’t I?”

Meredith grinned. “We could stop by the garage and the stables first, Mother. Nothing says ‘slavegirl’ like chains and leather tack.”

Her mother stiffened and put a hand to her cleft but then stopped. “I can,” she said huskily. “I need to. Yes.”

Meredith’s grin widened. “If there’s a long enough chain, maybe I can lead you.”

73.

Her mother whimpered, then forced herself to straighten and marched toward the bedroom door.

“Mother? I think the bow will clash—it already does, with those exquisite marks the vampire left on you.” She gestured, and her mother obediently undid the silk and let it go.

It was still floating down when she quietly screamed.

“Oh my god! Meredith! I was ready to go out there and—and—naked—” She watched her daughter keep smiling. “Alice gave you my triggers? Why would she do that?”

“Do you want me to put you to sleep again, Mother?”

“What?” Frances put a hand to her head, confused. Meredith had erased her conscious memories of standing helplessly in the gym while the Instructress used Meredith to control her, but the feeling was there.

So was the pussy-itch of succumbing to it.

“Mindless slavebitch.”

There was a flicker of hurt as the words registered, before they turned Frances’ mind off again. Then her mother’s hand floated downward. She flowed from the fucktoy pose to attention.

“I have no mind. I will obey.” Frances seemed to mean it more this time. To want it more.

Meredith let her stand blankly, eyes wide, as soft and moist as her lips. Her mind was empty and ready to receive anything Meredith put into it. Then she snapped her fingers.

Frances blinked as she softened into awareness again. “I . . . I was just under. Wasn’t I.” Her voice was breathy now, half-dreaming. She looked at Meredith, knowing what her daughter could do to her with a pair of words. More than halfway to asking her to do it again.

She crossed her arms below her breasts. “Meredith? Can anyone to that to me now? Put me under against my—?”

Savoring the words, she said them slowly. “Against my will?”

“Would you mind, Mother? That your lover lets other people control your mind?”

Frances swallowed. “I . . . love anything Alice does to me, baby. That doesn’t feel like a hypnotic command.

“Of course, she may just have hypnotized me into believing that. Mmmm.” She shook her head vaguely, as though to clear it of the submissive mist. “But it’s still a little . . .

“Who else has my triggers? Do you know?” Her voice grew softer, sadder. “Would you tell me, baby? If you knew?”

Now Meredith walked over and held her. “You know you’re safe, Mother.” She kissed her mother chastely on the shoulder. “Everyone with your trigger is someone she’s already hypnotized. All of us are programmed not to abuse our control over you.”

She stepped back. “You saw her put me into trance, Mother. You know how she controls me—I’m like a ragdoll just hearing her voice, or seeing those eyes. I can’t even conceive of disobeying her.

“Besides, Mother—I love you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Oh, I know, baby, I know!” Frances hugged her, and after a moment she seemed to calm down.

“So I can just expect to get hypnotized, now and then, all day?” She was breathing faster and the blush had returned.

“Whenever you’re in a safe part of the house, Mother. We’re all programmed not to do it if we’re with you elsewhere, or if there’s someone around whom Alice hasn’t approved for this.” Meredith paused, letting her mother imagine them all asleep as Mistress instructed them who that would be.

Who was to be allowed to watch, as the lady of the house was dropped into obedient trance.

“If I hear it from someone else, though, am I still . . .” she fought how it tasted “. . . programmed to obey it?”

Meredith smiled. “I’m sure it’s not something you’ll hear by accident. Alice chose it for you carefully.”

“I can’t remember it.” Frances laughed softly. “Of course I can’t.” But part of her could, the part that was learning to juice when it heard. “I wish I . . .”

“Oh, Mother. You’re out like a light just hearing the words. If you could even think them, you’d make yourself a zombie.”

Her mother squirmed and hated it. Enjoyed that and squirmed a bit more. “But, Meredith. It just feels so embarrassing, to know that someone I’m talking to can just say that and turn my mind off.” Frances looked rueful, but she was slowly rubbing her thighs together. “Then order me to do whatever they want, and I’ll—obey them.”

“Yes, Mother. Periodic trances will condition you to submit. You’ll help convert yourself into a better hypnotic subject for her. Alice wanted us all to help you.

“You do trust Alice, Mother. Don’t you?”

It was hard not to stroke herself as that plunged into Frances’ mind. Her eyes went bovine.

“Ohhh. Yesss. I trust Alice completely. Trussst Alice . . . I cannot decide . . . trussst Alice . . . believe only Alice . . . Alice thinks for me . . .

“Obey only Alice . . . obeyyy . . .”

Frances stood there saucer-eyed for a moment, head tilted, lips parted. Slowly she woke from the daze, blinking and moving. Her eyes were lidded now, sleepy and soft, like her smile.

“Of course I trust Alice, darling! Alice is my lover and my hypnotist. Whatever she decides is right.” She closed her eyes to endure the joy of saying that. When they opened they were more focused.

“Baby?” Her whisper was gentle—and a little seductive. “Would you like to trigger me now?”

Meredith grinned, sincerely tempted. “I’d love to. But there’s something else on the menu.

“Why not get Clare to put you into trance?”

“Clare has my trigger?” Frances tried to look shocked, and part of her was. But she couldn’t keep her hand from her pussy. She clearly hadn’t considered who else might have been selected to control her.

“She obeys Alice, Mother. You told her to.” She watched that moment from Frances’ hypnotic induction swam back into her memory. “While you were hypnotized, Clare was waiting on her, being the perfectly attentive little maidservant she can be. How easy do you think it was for Alice to relax her, and turn trained compliance into unwavering obedience? As obedient as you or I can be under hypnosis?”

“But—she’s our maid. Being helplessly obedient to my . . . maid.” Frances breathed deeply. “Where is Clare?”

“Just outside.”

Frances looked once at her closet. Meredith waited, ready to forbid her clothing, but Frances knew that. The way she almost flounced to the door suggested she didn’t mind.

Clare watched Frances’ ass as she followed her in. When Frances turned to face her, she eyed her nude employer with surprise and scorn, but also a lot of interest.

“What can I do for you, Ma’am?”

“I need to be hypnotized, Clare. My daughter says that you can do that for—to me.”

“Right now, Ma’am?” The maid implied she had more pressing duties.

Frances trembled and for a moment she seemed ready to kneel and beg her servant to control her mind. But then she smiled. “I understand Ms Holloway wants you, and the others she controls, to keep putting me under. I guess it’s to condition me to submit to it.” She was in control again herself, and she smiled as her maid remembered Mistress’ irresistible commands.

“But the point for you, Clare, is to obey Ms Holloway, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Clare’s eyes were bright, moist as her lips, as it turned her on to feel her power over Frances fade and shift.

“And the more I’m hypnotized, the more you must obey her.

“So you’re going to do this, Clare. Hypnotize me, and when I’m in trance you’ll have to obey her.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I will obey. I will hypnotize you, and then obey her.” Clare freed herself from the momentary trance and lifted something she was holding. Meredith had thought it was a dustrag, but the maid took the cloth away to show a tape player and headphones.

She smiled at Frances. “She already prepared me, Ma’am. I remember her instructions now.

“After I put you into a deep, receptive trance, you’re going to listen to this tape and believe everything it tells you.

“We’ll both obey Ms Holloway a lot more after that, Ma’am.” She smiled as Frances trembled again, and flicked a nervous glance at Meredith.

Clare’s look at Meredith was more deliberate. “Was there something you needed, Miss?”

Meredith enjoyed how the maid’s black stockings showed off her legs under the shorter than usual skirt, then looked up. “No, thank you, Clare.

“It’s all right, Mother. Alice thought you should hear some instructional tapes.”

“Instructional . . .” Frances looked at the player in her maid’s hand, and saw herself a few moments from now, in Clare’s power, letting her put the headphones on. “I’ll be conditioned this way, won’t I? Meredith?”

“Yes, Mother. Alice wants you to learn to think as a hypnotized girl should.”

“Hypnotized girls . . . I’m not sure—”

“Clare?” Meredith smiled. “I’m sorry for interrupting. You may hypnotize my mother now.”

“Look at me, Ma’am.” Clare’s sharp command snapped Frances back to her. “Mindless slavebitch.” Clare licked each syllable.

Frances moaned with pleasure, even as her eyes widened—this time with a bit of anger and fear. But the trigger controlled her, and she could only stand recruit-straight before her leering maid.

“I have no mind. I will obey,” she told Clare, and even the sleepy monotone sounded more eager now.

“Follow me.” Clare turned away, not even looking back to see the entranced woman pad after her. Meredith wondered vaguely what Clare was programmed to do to her mother while she controlled her, and could not even feel astonished when she remembered how warmly they used to get along with each other. Before.

On her command, Frances knelt on her unmade bed and then lay spreadeagled, a curvaceous peach-pink starfish staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling. It was the bed where Mistress had truly made her a sex slave last night, but Mistress’ tool was using it to bend her a different way, and Meredith doubted her mother could even remember the vampire dance right now.

Clare was telling her in a low, persuasive voice to see a spiral there, turning and pulsing, capturing her gaze and sending her deeper into obedient sleep. Frances repeated the instructions to seal them into her mind and seemed to melt further onto the twisted linens and coverlet.

They watched her lie limply as the taped conditioning flowed into her mind. Her eyes were so fixed and empty that Meredith could almost see them reflect the imaginary swirl that held them.

Her mother was sprawled on her back wearing nothing but a ribbon on her throat, listening to a brainwashing tape.

Meredith jerked to attention. So did Clare beside her, triggered by the same sight.

Deeply hypnotized, both girls left the bedroom. Their footsteps were louder than the eager whispers from the bed, but neither girl heard them.

74.

It was later. Meredith knew no more than that. She was in her gym spandex—it gripped her chest and hips and crotch pleasantly—but had no memory of putting it on. Even of being told to put it on. Her head rang with how tightly the trance controlled her.

Her mother was sitting up as Meredith paced back into the bedroom. It looked like she’d awakened from what the headphones had done to her, but Meredith knew she’d only obeyed their last command, to remove them. Her eyes were dim as she looked up.

“Meredith?” Her voice was very soft, hesitant. As her daughter stopped before the bed and stood straight, Frances seemed unsure whether she was allowed to speak to focused, sleek-bodied girls who knew what they must do.

“How do you feel, Mother?” Meredith asked crisply.

“Very nice,” Frances murmured. Her eyelids dipped once but opened. Moving seemed to rouse her a bit more. She stared down at the headphones. “Conditioned . . .” But she put them aside, and shook her head as if to clear it.

“I really need to get going.” She sounded firm. “I can’t just sit around all day and . . . and . . .” One hand clenched before it could creep to her thighs. She thought about saying play with myself while sprawled nude before her daughter.

Frances sucked air before she could yield to it.

“Going to your study, Mother?” The disdain made both of them shiver.

“Yes.” Frances grasped the straw. “Yes. I may be newly in love, but there’s work to be—”

“There’s a screensaver to stare into, Mother. You’ll sit in front of it and fall into the spiral, and masturbate until it does hypnotize you and you forget where your hand is.”

Hearing it was like a slap—a deft sharp slap on her ass when she was almost coming. Frances gaped up at her daughter, touching herself before she knew it.

“That wouldn’t take long. With you.” Meredith watched her mother turn an even lovelier pink. “But our hypnotist knows how easily you’d be seduced into spending all the time you’re not actually with her, in an endless trance.”

Meredith felt a posthypnotic suggestion focus her on her mother’s eyes. She waited for protest. Frances might wonder why Alice had given everyone her trigger and given her a tape to brainwash herself—but somehow also didn’t want her to trance to be endless.

Frances just squirmed guiltily again. Mistress hadn’t programmed her to see ironies, or to do anything but picture herself sleepwalking from induction to induction.

“She understands what you’re going through, Mother. She has made arrangements.” Just then, she realized that she held something in her hand. She tossed it on the bed: a black and yellow two-piece outfit like hers.

“The . . . gym?”

“Yes, Mother. You are to begin physical conditioning now. I must bring you to the Instructress.”

Frances swallowed. “You do look . . . hypnotized, this time.”

“Yes, Mother. I am.

“You will come with me now.”

“I’m afraid not, dear.” Frances’ eyes widened. She might have a slim chance of resisting a spiral on her monitor, if she summoned the will to reach her office. But she knew how long she’d last in front of the Instructress. For Mistress, Meredith noted that she could still fear that, more than want it. “I really can’t just—”

“Mindless slavebitch.”

“Uhhhnn . . .” Frances twitched as she succumbed, and a bead of dew appeared on her slit.

“I have no mind. I will obey,” she reported, almost immediately.

“You will come with me to the gym for conditioning, Mother. You will not resist. You will put on the clothes.

“You will know you have been hypnotized to do it.”

“I understand and I obey,” Frances intoned.

She woke at a snap of fingers. Slowly she looked up. “I . . . must come with you, Meredith. To the gym.” It was a defeated whisper, but Meredith heard the thudding heartbeat below it. Frances had been conquered, and she was melting with what her conquerors were going to make her do.

Dressing teased her, as she pulled the lycra over sensitive nipples and her dampened cunt, watching herself do it in the mirror. She trembled as she stood, looking at herself, uniformed now like her entranced daughter. Kneeling, she took out a pair of crosstrainers she used for aerobics, and glanced wildly at the drawer where her more demure, more individual aerobics outfits were.

She had to close her eyes, as the pleasure of not wearing them—not even trying to get to them—reinforced her submission. She put on the shoes and stood again, coming to attention.

“I must come with you,” she whispered. Meredith’s own pleasure-pulse throbbed invisibly within her. She led them out.

“Mother?” They were barely on their way down the upper hallway.

“Yes, dear?”

“Mindless slavebitch.”

Frances almost tripped, but recovered into attention. “I have no mind. I will obey,” she moaned.

“Masturbate now, Mother.”

Without hesitation, Frances put her hand to her crotch. Pressing herself through the spandex, she panted and began to shake, but never shifted her gaze from the trance-point that had trapped it.

“It feels good to play with yourself.”

“Feels . . . uhh . . . goooood to . . . to . . . p-p-play with . . . myyyy ssssself . . .”

“It feels good to obey your new trigger.”

“Yyyessss . . .”

“Stop and attend, Mother.”

Her mother was still. The arousal was gone, steeping her inner mind. “I understand and obey.”

Meredith snapped her fingers.

Frances blinked at her. Her cheeks were still pink, and when they began to walk she whined very softly. The lycra was tight on her, and she tried to be closer to it.

“Honey?” It came out quieter and more desperate than she’d probably wanted it to.

“Yes, Mother? Oh, look.” Meredith pointed out a window.

Already learning that commands superseded her own needs, Frances swallowed her question and looked out where her daughter pointed.

“What’s—?”

“Mindless slavebitch.”

“I have no mind. I will obey.” Frances stroked herself without needing to be told. Meredith felt good: Mistress would be pleased at her responsiveness.

She implanted no command this time, and her mother said nothing when she was awakened.

The next two triggers produced nothing but orgasmic cries and instant obedience.

“Baby.” They’d reached the stairs to the wing where the gym was. Frances took a sobbing breath and put her hand on Meredith’s arm.

“Yes, Mother?” Her cool formality made both of them tremble.

“I—you’ve been doing that to me. Triggering me. I . . .”

“Yes, Mother. I am programmed to. Does it feel good?”

“Yes! I—I mean—I just feel so helpless and, and easy, when you . . .”

Meredith stared into her eyes. “Do you want me to stop triggering you, Mother?”

Her mother blushed then. She tried to lower her eyes but hadn’t the strength. “No.

“I like how it feels.” Her hand drifted to her crotch. “I want you to trigger me.”

Meredith stared at her.

“Please, baby! Please trigger me!”

Meredith let her beg a little more.

“Mindless slavebitch.”

They were outside the gym door when Frances hesitated. Her body was taut as she fought the need to go in without stopping and face the new hypnosis. “Meredith—wait. Please. Just a minute.”

Meredith stood still, then looked at her. She smiled very slightly, and her mother nodded, closing her eyes once. “I know, Meredith. You can say that—that phrase, and I’ll snap into trance again, and walk in there like a good little puppet.” She hugged herself, looking fragile and delicious. “I want you to do that. Even though part of me wants to be doing this on my own.

“But please. I need to say something about Alice.” She watched her daughter and nodded. Even as trance-dazed as she was, Frances was using her mind. She hoped invoking the woman who had them both hypnotized would keep Meredith tame.

“That woman in there. Your trainer, Ms Davitz. She’s . . . I’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous. A hardbody.” She swallowed. “I can see how much she controls you, and Leslie too. Right now—” She reached out, almost shyly cupping Meredith’s arm and then pulling away. “Right now you belong to her, baby. It’s OK. I know her voice is in your mind.”

She swallowed again. “I had this dream, really vivid, that she used you to get to me. She programmed you to lure me down here, and she had you ready to help her hypnotize me into her slave.” Just saying it out loud was turning Frances on, but she forced herself to continue. “We . . .”

She blushed, but her arms were falling to her sides now.

“I’ll be putty in her hands, Meredith. I know it. She’ll have me willing to obey in no time, and if it’s sex she wants, I won’t resist. She’ll make me not want to resist.” She closed her eyes, and now there was real pain. “I hope she does, Meredith. But—

“But I love Alice. And I don’t want to be an unfaithful slut.”

Her eyes opened, appealing to Meredith. Meredith could feel the warmth of wanting to soothe her—and it wisped away as Mistress’ programming neatly saddled her mind again. She stepped over and put her hands on her mother’s shoulders.

“Mother? Who’s already hypnotized you?”

“Alice,” her mother answered at once.

“Exactly, Mother. How much control does she have over you?”

Frances shivered. “Complete control. She—makes my decisions for me. I sleep and think when she tells me to. I will obey her every command.”

Meredith looked into her eyes. “Yes, Mother. You obey her every command. She has you so completely spellbound that you can’t even think about how to disobey her.”

“But I—”

“Relax, Mother.” She stroked her mother’s hair and the older woman’s eyelids fluttered. “She has already trained you to want to obey her, and since she does not control you absolutely—yet—part of you is always keeping the rest of you focused.”

The words played back out of Meredith’s mouth. She watched them flow into her mother’s unresisting mind. “But there’s nothing left in you that can resist her will.

“So you can’t do anything unless she wants you to. No one can make you, even if they have your hypnotic trigger.”

Frances looked at her wide-eyed.

“If she lets us fall under the spell of another hypnotist, she is sharing her control. We are just slaves, Mother. We do not choose anything—not even who can command us and put us to sleep.”

“We just obey,” Frances whispered. “And sleep.”

“Yes, Mother. Try this:

“Go back to your room now. Change into an ugly old pair of sweats, and then come back down here.” She smiled as Frances twitched and blinked, then stared at her with wonder.

She shook her head, and smiled. “Thank you, Meredith! You’re right—I can’t even picture it. I must obey.” She shook excitedly and smoothed her hands over the scrap of lycra riding her hips. “There’s nothing in my head but this compulsion!”

Leaning forward, Meredith lightly kissed her lips. “We must go in now, Mother. After the Instructress is through with us, neither of us will even remember this.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

Then her mother said tremulously, “Yes. We must go in now.”

75.

Inside the gym, Leslie sat erect and topless on a stationary bike, pistoning her legs rapidly. She held a CD player on her upturned palms and stared over it, listening to what it played to her over the headphones. The Instructress leaned at her ease against the wall, watching Leslie pedal herself deeper.

Frances stopped deferentially halfway to that end of the gym. Meredith kept walking, then pivoted and came to attention before the Instructress. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her profile, watching her as she submitted. It made her stand straighter, stare more fixedly through the far wall.

The stronger woman looked at her, let her wait. Her arousal simmered.

“Report, slave.”

Meredith enjoyed her mother’s gasp. “I brought her, Instructress. As you commanded.”

The Instructress took a leisurely glance at Frances, and smiled. “Come here, please.”

Hesitantly but promptly, her mother complied.

“You’ve come to begin letting me condition you, Ms Stevens.”

“Yes . . . Instructress. I do need to be conditioned.” She came to attention, preening a little and clearly enjoying the way the Instructress was eyeing her body.

“And in here, Instructress, I am the one who’s here to learn.” She swallowed. “To be told what to do. So please, call me ‘Frances.’

“Or—or whatever you’d like. Like to.”

The Instructress let her tremble a bit more. “Are you flirting with me, Frances?”

Frances gasped again, and then cut her eyes to where Meredith stood glassy-eyed.

“How aware is my daughter now, Instructress?”

“She’s in the trance I usually put her in, Frances. It keeps her obedient and easy to use. She will see and remember only what I tell her to.”

Her mother kept looking at her. Meredith knew her own passive daze was distracting her mother from her own fascination with the Instructress. But she didn’t know if her mother was worried, or envious.

“Are you going to command her to do something now, Instructress? Start her on a routine?”

“You want her occupied while you seduce me, Frances?” The Instructress sounded amused but pleased. “Such a naughty employer you are.”

Frances swung back to her, shocked—but didn’t break pose.

“It doesn’t matter. A girl as deeply entranced as Meredith doesn’t need to be commanded. Just waiting passively for orders is a separate and very powerful pleasure for a conditioned slave.”

“A slave . . .”

“Yes, Frances. It rewards her, deepens her, prepares her to obey when she does receive a command. Sometimes I leave her like that for the entire gym session, empty and receptive. She’s so thoroughly hypnotized that she could not even beg for command.”

Frances looked over at her again, flushed and breathing harder. “What do you—do you do to her? When she’s—?”

“You didn’t come to me to discuss your daughter’s conditioning, Frances. It’s time for your own to begin. Now, do you have any particular fitness objectives?”

The Instructress’ sneer didn’t faze Frances. She breathed in and saw the chance to submit. “No, Instructress. I need your guidance about everything. What should I try to do?”

“You’re like these girls. It’s more suitable to soften them, not make them hard. You have a dominant lover, don’t you?”

Frances nodded meekly.

“She’ll prefer you smooth and supple, easy to restrain and force down to the mattress. But she’ll still want you trained for endurance, to keep up with her when she wants a longer ride.”

Frances’ mouth was open now as she nodded, her cheeks fiery as she let this stranger say it.

“You want that, Frances. To be your lover’s weak, compliant toy. To be a pillow that licks her, when she tells you to.”

Frances made a noise as need and anger and shame burned in her. Need kept her smoldering. Dropping her head but unable to break the Instructress’ gaze, she nodded.

When the Instructress said nothing, Frances said it aloud. “Yes, Instructress. I want that. Please train me to be weak.”

The Instructress smiled. “Show me your body, Frances. I like to see what I’m working with.”

Without hesitating, or taking her eyes from the Instructress’, Frances undid the top and then slid out of the briefs, leaving them by her feet as she put her arms by her sides.

The Instructress paced around her, touching her belly, her breasts, her upper arm without asking. Frances twitched and moaned at the handling but said nothing. She stiffened when the stronger woman cupped one asscheek, and Meredith knew her mother was waiting hopefully for a probing finger.

But the Instructress didn’t do that. When she was in front again, she smiled. “You have a very sweet little body, Frances. You’re already built to please.”

Frances blushed and started to thank her, but subsided instantly when she continued.

“There isn’t much work to be done on you. You’ll be like the girls that way: your routine will be rhythmic movement to deepen your trance, empty your mind, and train you to perform on command.”

She pointed back to Leslie, still pumping on the bike, staring and listening.

“Of course, Frances, one factor in this is your attitude toward being under hypnotic guidance. I think you were somewhat resistant to being hypnotized by someone you don’t know well.”

Something about that halted Frances’ quiet slide into submission. She’d been programmed to remember only dreaming that—almost being enslaved here among the fitness machines by the Instructress and her own hypnotized daughter.

“I know that idea frightened you, Frances. Giving up your will to a hypnotist while your daughter, who should be watching over you, was already hypnotized. Leaving both of you helplessly obeying me.

“Yes, Frances. Meredith told me all about your fears about being subverted that way, just as I programmed her to. A hypnotized girl has no secrets.

“Nor shall you.” The Instructress smiled as Frances wilted.

“It’s—all right, now, Instructress.” To whisper that cost Frances effort, and the Instructress looked pleased again. “I did worry about that. I saw how obedient you made my daughter.” She looked again at Meredith, who felt no desire to move or speak.

“But my beliefs about being under hypnotic control have been—corrected.” Now Frances was actually smiling back at the Instructress. “My dominant lover hypnotized me, and now I understand that I should submit to hypnosis whenever I have her permission to.”

The Instructress nodded.

Frances’ brief assertiveness misted away and she was the bashful victim once more.

“You know—everything Meredith knows. She can’t help telling you.” She quivered. “She told you what my trigger phrase is. Didn’t she?”

The Instructress went to her and fingered her right breast. “Of course she did, Frances. Doing it almost gave her an orgasm.

“But I don’t need a trigger to take control of a woman’s mind.” She let her hand fall away from Frances’ nipple and narrowed her eyes at the sound Frances made. “I enjoy watching them surrender more slowly.

“Even the ones like you, Frances. The ones who want to be controlled.”

“I understand, Instructress. I—I will obey.” She stared transfixed at the Instructress. “What must I . . . I . . . do . . . I . . .”

The Instructress made no response as she trailed off. She just let Frances fall into her gaze and forget to think.

Meredith had watched the Instructress hypnotize Leslie like this. Needing no induction script, just staring a weaker-willed woman into submission. Then into blankness. Then into obedient sleep. She stood placidly where she was, stilled by the Instructress’ programming. It was arousing to watch her mother succumb to a new hypnotist.

There was no struggle. The only sound in the gym was the almost subliminal whine of the stationary bike that Leslie was robotically working. Frances stood rigid, staring into the Instructress’ eyes, her face losing expression as her hands slowly flattened by her thighs.

Frances was stunning herself in her focus on the strong woman taking her mind from her. But somewhere in that was the knowledge that her daughter was watching it happen. Turned on, already a slave, drained of any thought of helping her. Watching her be made into a slave too.

Meredith could see this in how stiff her mother’s nipples were as she stood and was hypnotized.

“You will obey me now,” the Instructress said. Time had passed. If Meredith had been awake it would have startled her.

Her mother could no longer be startled. She stared back at the Instructress.

“I will obey you now.”

In a few moments Meredith was watching her mother hefting girly weights, as the Instructress posed her and adjusted how she moved and held them. Frances stared forward blankly. Each time the hypnotist touched her, she adopted the new pose without any resistance. Her lips moved slightly as she recited whatever the Instructress had told her to think.

Across the gym, the CD told Leslie to stop. She dismounted the bike and put aside the player. She marched forward, snapping into a perfect right-angled turn to come toward them. She stopped and stared forward.

The Instructress ignored her. Meredith and her mother were not told to respond. Leslie waited passively, in the pleasure before orders.

“Stop.”

Frances didn’t blink. Her hands came to rest beside her, gripping the little weights. She stood still and ready, gazing at nothing. She kept whispering her mantra until the Instructress touched her forehead.

The Instructress took the weights from her and racked them, then grasped her chin. Frances trembled very slightly, focusing now on the eyes that had captured her before.

“You are easy to reshape, Frances. Eager to be enslaved, and so cooperative. Stroke yourself.”

Frances obeyed and whimpered.

“You are already ripe to be trained for something only a completely obedient slave can perform.

“Sleep now. When you awaken, you will know what to do with magic hypno marbles.”

Later, Meredith and Leslie were still statues at attention. Between them, Frances paced proudly on her latest trip across the gym, hands joined and cupped below her breasts under a single marble. Her face beamed with ecstasy, her eyes on a lovely horizon, she was a nude bride carrying her bouquet down an endless aisle. Even as her body strained to bear the load, her hips rolled with the arousal.

Meredith had heard how the Instructress primed Frances to obey. Her mother remembered running a major company. She’d still let this strange woman empty her head and lull her into wanting to do only this numbingly simple task. It was too fulfilling to want to do anything else.

Frances had listened obediently while the hypnotist shrank her mind. Now her mind had room enough only for the new mantra.

At the far wall she stopped, set the marble down gracefully, and moaned. Then she picked up the marble beside it with a grunt, pivoted, and returned again, smiling avidly.

Standing there like Leslie’s mirror-sentry for what might have been an hour, Meredith had watched it alter her. Her mother’s eyes seemed a little more empty each time, her chant a little more toneless. Her pussy a little shinier with dew.

“Stop.”

Frances held blissfully still. Only her thighs moved, slightly. She cupped the immense mass under her heart, trusting the hypnotist who’d told her to bear it, and the trance that made her able to.

It thrilled her to have to do only that, to be pleasing.

“Slave.”

Meredith pivoted as the Instructress activated her.

“Strip now. Then, undress me.”

Stepping to her, Meredith saw they were in her mother’s locked gaze.

When she and the Instructress were both nude, Meredith knelt on command and put her lips to the Instructress’ pussy. When she felt a hand pressing her head closer, she reached back with the arm her mother could see and slid a finger into her ass.

Frances cupped the hypnotic marble, and smiled like a dreamy bride as she watched her daughter eat out their trainer.

76.

In the parlor after dinner, Mistress was jovial. “You seem to have taken to the training quite well, Frances. You’re positively glowing. Is Ms Davitz keeping you under discipline?”

The girls smiled teasingly and Frances blushed. “I don’t remember it all,” she murmured. “She had me pretty deeply hypnotized. I just remember it feeling so nice to do as I was told. The rhythm was very soothing. Exciting.” She smiled at them. “Like I was having long, slow sex. Except I didn’t need an orgasm—nothing to break the pleasure.”

Confessing it seemed to addict her. “I do remember this one thing she had me doing. It seems so silly—even when I was hypnotized, it seemed silly. But there were these, um—”

“Ms Davitz is a very well-trained hypnotist,” Mistress observed, sipping wine. “And you’re a very submissive subject, Frances dear. In an hour or so she had you in an obedient state that would have taken a stronger-willed woman weeks of treatments to reach.”

Frances beamed at her. Then she seemed to be falling into trance again as Mistress held her gaze.

“There’s something more, Frances dear. Isn’t there.” It wasn’t a question.

Clare came over and started to clear the coffee cups away.

Frances dreamily shook her head and answered with only a tiny hesitation. “Yes, Alice. She implanted . . .” With an obvious struggle, she closed her eyes and lowered them, finally looking down at her lap.

Beside her, Clare looked down with interest.

“Implanted, dear?” Mistress traded another smile with the maid.

Sighing almost blissfully, Frances surrendered and raised her eyes. “Ms Davitz implanted a posthypnotic suggestion in my thoughts. When she woke me from trance, she told me what it would be, what it would make me do. I won’t be able to resist it. The way she . . . reinforced it will make me really want to obey it when I hear the trigger.”

“A posthypnotic suggestion?” Meredith didn’t have to feign her curiosity.

“Yes!” Leslie gave her mother a friendly leer. “Tell us what you have to do!”

Forcing her eyes from Mistress’ hypnotic glance, Frances smiled bravely at Meredith and her girlfriend. “That instruction, I don’t have to obey.”

“Oh, come on, Mother.” Meredith sounded as innocent as she could. “You don’t think we’d do anything to abuse that, do you?”

“Besides,” Leslie mused, “if Ms Davitz could get you to submit to obeying it and liking it, can it really be that degrading?”

Then she and Meredith looked at each other and giggled.

“Um, let me rephrase that,” Leslie said.

“Ms Holloway?” Clare was standing primly next to Frances now.

“Yes, Clare?”

She glanced down once as Frances started shaking her head, but then looked only at Mistress. “I watched you train her to obey, Ms Holloway. When she’s hypnotized, Ms Stevens will answer.”

“Alice—?”

Mistress ignored the plea. Frances seemed more excited than afraid as she looked up at Clare.

“Yes, Clare. Of course. Would you like to help Ms Stevens obey?”

Clare smiled sweetly at Frances. “Mindless slavebitch.”

Frances jerked erect in her chair, eyes wide. “I have no mind. I will obey.”

“When you awaken, you will be powerless to resist telling what you were programmed to do.”

“Powerless to resist.” Frances nodded.

“Wake.”

Frances blinked and faced the maid. Her face looked the way it did when she’d waited for Meredith to trigger her.

“Tell us, Ms Stevens.” Clare licked her lips slowly, so Frances could see.

Frances reached for her lap without seeming to know it. “The Instructress said my nightmare would come true,” she murmured longingly. “That she had hypnotized me and my daughter into her willing slaves. The staff had taken over and brainwashed us into wanting it. We’d never be able to think of—”

“I think you’ve overdressed, slut.”

Meredith watched Clare’s voice silence her mother. Frances slowly rose, wide-eyed. “Yes . . . Miss Clare . . .” Slowly, she began to undress.

Meredith felt herself stand, too, as Clare’s words opened a new command in her brain. She began to strip. Leslie called her name, softly, sadly, but more real for her were the Instructress’ words as she’d knelt in the gym, telling Meredith what she would do when the maid triggered her mother.

Mother and daughter stood nude. Meredith relaxed. She didn’t remember hearing the commands the Instructress had given her mother, only her mother’s blank expression as she absorbed them. But she knew her mother had the script for this.

Her mother’s head rotated. “We shouldn’t stand before our betters, dear.” As they sank to their knees, she went on, “Unless they want us to. To serve them.” She bent down to the floor, her ass pale and taut in the air, then knelt back up.

“May I please serve you now, Miss Clare?”

Clare folded her arms. “How, slut?”

Frances twitched. “With my mouth, Miss Clare. I can make you feel soooo good with my mouth. I can kneel for hours and—”

“I can get your daughter to do me that way, slut. She’s better at it, too.

“You could give me money. All you have.”

Frances swayed. The spell made her think of how to do that, and Meredith could see its enormity hitting her—and arousing her.

“Yes, Miss Clare. Yessss. All I have. I can change the accounts to your name and give you—”

“At the banks, slut. Each one. You can be naked. When you don’t actually need to speak or sign anything you can let me ride your mouth.”

Frances jerked. “B-but, Miss Clare—”

“What?”

She put her hands behind her back, offering her breasts, without even knowing it. “I—oh, I want to, you could bring me in on a leash!—but they’d think I was crazy. Incompetent. They wouldn’t let me give it to you!”

Even Clare blinked at the anguish.

“I’m just your slavegirl, Miss Clare, but they can’t find out or—”

“Are you really a slave?” Mistress put in, conversationally. “I’d thought this house still belonged to Frances Stevens.”

At Clare’s nod, Frances turned to the other woman. “Not really, Ma’am. Frances Stevens belongs to Miss Clare and the others, so it’s really theirs.”

“How did that happen?”

“They hypnotized me.” Frances had forgotten her disquiet and squirmed on her knees, squeezing her legs together as she confessed it. She smiled bashfully. “Now they control my mind, and I know I’m just trash.”

“Didn’t your daughter try to help you?” Mistress affected concern.

Frances shook her head. “I don’t know, Ma’am. When I woke up as their hypnotized bitch, they’d made Meredith want to obey them, too. We’re both slaves now.”

She glanced fondly at where Meredith knelt. “Baby, Miss Clare likes your pussylicking better than mine. Ask her if she wants you now!”

“Be quiet, slut.” Frances’ head spun back to face Clare. She looked thrilled to hear anything from her owner. “First, I control pleasure. I’ll tell you who gives it and when. Second—we all want two first-class whores, not just one. You have permission to think about that, slut. How can we get them?”

Frances looked stricken, now, and turned to her daughter. “I—I don’t—you could buy—uhh—”

Meredith shook her head. “No, Mother. I can teach you how.”

Frances’ face lit up, but then she looked up at Clare. “Miss Clare? Will it be all right if I—”

“No!” Leslie was tense in her chair, looking at them all. “This isn’t right! Stop it!”

Clare looked annoyed. “Slut, that girl’s making a mess. Clean it up.”

Frances bowed to her again, eyes shining. “Yes, Miss Clare! Yes!” Without even glancing at Leslie, she peered at Meredith. “You heard our owner, dear. Make your friend behave, right now.”

Without replying, Meredith grinned up at her girlfriend. She crawled to Leslie, and then slid up between her legs.

“Your—eyes—I can’t—look away—please, Meredith! Don’t! Please!” But Leslie wasn’t pushing Meredith away very hard.

Mistress said something.

Meredith awoke. She was standing, and she could feel clothing. She looked over at her mother, who was also dressed, and looked both mortified and deeply turned on.

Clare was at attention, glassy-eyed. With the care of a studious schoolgirl, she recited, “I will obey, and forget. I will obey, and forget. I will obey, and . . .”

Leslie was out of her chair, blushing and breathing hard, looking at each of them.

“Did that game make you as hot as I thought it did, Frances dear?” Mistress was still in her chair, looking very pleased.

Frances walked to her, knelt by her chair and kissed her on the mouth. She looked at her daughter, and her daughter’s girlfriend, and the hypnotized maid. “May I show you how hot, Alice? Please?” She started to disrobe again.

“Not now.” Mistress pulled her close and returned the kiss. She smiled up at Clare. “Another of the wonderful uses of hypnosis. You can turn someone into a toy, and then erase their thoughts. Until we want her to play again, she won’t remember this at all.”

Stroking Frances’ hair, she mused, “Maybe I’ll teach you how to play with people this way, my sweet Frances. Would you like that?”

Frances leaned against her, looking up at Clare. Perhaps remembering her fantasy of following Clare into a bank on a leash, licking her in public . . .

Then she looked at Meredith and at Leslie.

“Controlling pretty girls who can’t help but obey me—it’s so very tempting, Alice.

“But I’m your submissive. I need you to be in control and tell me what to decide. And in bed, or wherever I’m made to have sex, I want to be the . . . the slave.

“I almost want you to put me back under and let Clare make me her bitch for a while.” She swallowed. “Even if I don’t get my head between those lovely legs it’ll be because she makes me want to please her some other way.”

They looked at Clare. She was too lost in her obedience mantra to hear how much her employer wanted to be her bottom.

Mistress nodded. “You’re coming along very nicely, Frances. You really are a sweet little sub, and I know you want to please me before anything else.” They kissed again and Frances pressed against her.

“I do think you should taste the domme role, though. Submitting will be even better, when you learn how your own controller feels when you obey her. And taste what you’re surrendering.”

Frances smiled at her. “Of course, Alice. You’re right. I understand that. And I’ll obey you, even if it means pretending to be strong-willed again when I’m not at work.”

“Dear Frances! I think you’d try being dominant on your own, too.” She ruffled Frances’ hair. “You, trying to dominate someone. You’d end up kissing your own whip, like as not, but you’d try.”

Frances blushed and arched under her touch. “To please you, I would, Alice.”

Mistress nodded, and put her finger to Frances’ lips. “But I’m going to hypnotize you into it. You’ll know what to do because I’ll program you for it. All you need to do is relax and enjoy it.”

Sliding to her knees again, Frances nodded and looked up in wonder.

“Frances, have you ever considered the erotic potential of robots?”