TETHER
by trilby else (trilelse@mail.anonymizer.com)
84.
The gate called to say that her mother’s car had brought her back from work. Meredith undressed and slipped on the patent-leather collar. Then she went to her mother’s suite to report to Mistress, who was fucking Leslie in her mother’s bed.
Meredith waited quietly, hands by her sides. Her mother was clearly getting a lot of addictive robot playtime: she saw the silvery scraps of Frances’ costume, on the floor. Just as she’d promised, Mistress had been letting Donna, the older maid Clare had seduced and hypnotized, play with Franbot too.
“She’s here?” Sprawled over Leslie’s lithe form, Mistress kept looking down at the younger woman suckling at her breast.
“Yes, Mistress.” Meredith wanted to be the slut servicing their owner, but she was happy to watch her girlfriend giving pleasure instead.
“Stop.”
Leslie went limp under Mistress, staring at the nipple she’d been worshipping. Mistress rolled off her, stood, and stretched, majestically nude. She leaned back down and put a finger to Leslie’s mound. “Go.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Leslie eased herself off the bed and gathered what seemed to be the remains of yet another fetish-maid outfit. She walked out without looking at Meredith.
Mistress had programmed them this morning, after Frances left for work. Meredith began to obey the commands in her mind, briskly preparing the massage table near the balcony windows. There was a fuzzy memory of setting it up with Leslie, earlier, but it faded.
When it was ready, she turned to Mistress and knelt, bending to put her forehead to the floor.
Mistress padded across the room and lay on the table. Meredith rose and took the oil bottle to anoint her hands. Her head swam: Mistress’ body stretched before her, to be stroked and pleasured.
Meredith remembered being massaged, when a sheet had kept her warm. But Mistress seemed to enjoy the air on her, and her slavegirl’s yearning eyes. Hands warmed and slick, Meredith began with Mistress’ shoulders, letting the posthypnotic suggestions take control. She’d been trained in captivity, and like everything else Mistress had implanted in her, it was clear in her mind.
By that point in the brainwashing, Meredith could luxuriate in what that meant. It made her a better bodyservant to Mistress, and worth more if Mistress sold her.
Now, pressing along the hollow of her owner’s back, Meredith moistened. Her buyer might want just a fucktoy, never to use any of her other skills. She thought of asking Mistress about that, but it was better to relax and massage Mistress and await commands.
The door opened and Frances walked in. “Oh! I—Alice. And Meredith—oh.” She stopped, watching her nude daughter slowly massaging her nude lover in the afternoon sunlight.
“Frances, dear.” Mistress turned an indolent head to her. “Huntress home from the hill.” She waved a pinky.
“Feeling like being robotized again, dear?”
Frances moaned a little. “I mustn’t, now, must I? I would have been triggered when I came in.” She paused. Meredith felt her mother watching her serve.
“Very soon, Frances, you’ll carry out some new orders for me. Then you can be my robot anytime, anywhere on the estate.
“Yes: my obedient sexy silver robot slave.”
Lost in a vision of herself sleepwalking in hotpants and paint, Frances didn’t respond.
Meredith reached forward, bending to stroke Mistress down her back, moving over her buttocks. Knowing her mother watched, she moved slowly.
“Mmmm. She’s so very good at this, Frances. Why don’t you get comfortable too?”
Seeing only Mistress as she worked, Meredith heard her mother disrobing and breathing faster. She started on Mistress’ other side, letting her mother see her from the front.
“Meredith? Baby? Hi.”
She loved being unable to respond. And the anxiety in her mother’s tone, seeing her this deeply entranced outside the gym.
“Enough now, Meredith.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Meredith came to attention, staring past her mother until Mistress had a use for her again.
“Alice! You have her hypnotized?” Frances sounded worried, a little, but there was also excitement, and a lot of envy.
“She’s easy to control when she’s awake,” Mistress said. “But there’s a lot to be said for the woman touching you being under a spell.
“You enjoy seeing your daughter like this, don’t you, Frances dear?”
“Well! She’s so . . . relaxed . . .” Frances closed her mouth and brought her hands to her breasts, looking at Meredith. “No. That’s not it, Alice.
“She’s so—controlled.” Frances’ hips moved a little. “In the gym, the Instructress told me how much she enjoys it. The passivity, waiting to be commanded.” She sighed. “I know what the Instructress means, too. She did it to me, right afterward.”
Frances forced her eyes away from her daughter and down to where Mistress gleamed on the table. “You have, too, haven’t you, Alice? Kept me in trance like that, just blank?” She stepped to the table and leaned down to kiss Mistress. “Helpless in dreamland? Loving it?”
“Would you like to join my young servant in her sleep?”
Meredith could see muscles working under her mother’s skin as she fought the urge to step around the table and touch her.
“You could take her place, Frances dear. With one hypnotic suggestion.”
“I’d—love to, Alice. God, I’m tempted.” She smiled at Meredith, and for a moment her eyes glittered. “To be your massage girl. Nothing in my mind but serving your body . . .
“And Meredith won’t remember anything, will she?
“But—” She shook her head as if trying to wake up. “But—ever since I got back here I’ve been feeling this compulsion. There’s something I must do, and I can’t just lapse into trance. Something . . .”
She wandered away from the table, slowly running her hands through her hair. “I just . . . can’t . . . remember . . .”
Then she froze, looking at the phone, and turned back to Mistress, smiling. “You phoned me! At work! And you hypnotized me.”
She reached down to her cleft and began to touch it lightly. “Not just a trigger. Mmm. No. You put me into a trance, so slowly, with that soothing voice. I knew you were doing it to me, right there in front of my staff.” She was breathing heavily. “I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t tell anyone. No one knew I was having my will put to sleep in the same room with them. Submitting to my hypnotist.
“Ohhhhh.” Now she was rubbing at her labia, gently. “And then you programmed me to forget. I had to obey. The rest of the day I had no idea you’d turned me into your windup toy.”
“And now?” Mistress rested her head on her forearms and watched Frances strum herself.
“Now I realize I . . . I’m under a posthypnotic suggestion!” Frances sounded like she’d just opened a present. “I can’t resist it. It’s controlling me completely—I have to obey.
“I must obey! Oh, Alice!”
She looked needfully at Mistress, who seemed amused. “But . . . what must I do?”
“Don’t you know, Frances dear? Isn’t it glowing in your mind, outshining all lesser thoughts?”
That captured her. She wavered but shook her head. “I wish it were, Alice. There’s just this compulsion. I nnneeeed to submit to it and obey. That feels soooo good, but I just can’t focus on what I—”
“Frances.”
Frances’ hand drifted from her slit as she straightened.
“There’s a command in your mind, dear. Planted there by a stronger mind that conquered yours. You have no willpower, and you want to please them. So what could be keeping you from obeying?”
Dim but real fear flared in Frances’ eyes for a moment—and then they shone. She relaxed and beamed at Mistress, and had to swallow and blink.
“Yes . . . of course, Alice. I do understand.” She spoke more softly. Looking down at herself, she made her pose more subservient—bringing her legs together and deliberately moving her hands from her crotch to her sides.
“I was trying to think of the command,” she said dreamily. “But I must not think. My hypnotist did not entrance me to think.” Her eyes caressed Mistress for a moment. “She entranced me to obey.
“She prepared my mind.
“I must relax. I must go blank. Then, I may obey her.” Frances tried to keep gazing at Mistress. Then she sighed and let her eyes drift up above Mistress. To Meredith. Through Meredith.
“I have no will,” Frances whispered. “In my mind there is only the command I must obey.
“Yes . . . I remember now. Of course. We must talk about the . . . household staff. There is much you need me to . . . understand.”
Meredith could sense the pauses were not resistance. Her mother was using the words to stroke her mind as she’d been touching her pussy. She was enjoying Mistress’ control.
“Yes, Frances dear.” Mistress rubbed herself against the table beneath her. “About the staff.”
“The . . . staff.” Frances blinked slowly. “The truth I must believe. Yes . . .”
Her voice grew softer and sleepier, but more crisp as she began to recite her lesson. “All of the servants are actually spies. Capaldi’s spies. While I was still under her sinister influence, she hypnotized me into forgetting the real staff and then dismissing them.” She blinked again, and her eyes were glassier. Her hands moved behind her, to an even more submissive pose.
“That day, she stood behind me to keep me obedient, but I was so weak-willed I didn’t need it. I looked at loyal employees I’d trusted for years, and fired them because it was all I could think of doing.
“She controlled my mind and my will so completely that she made me believe her new minions had actually worked here for years.”
Describing her obedience to Capaldi, Frances sounded more aroused than angry. “She also programmed me to submit to them so they could train me to obey her. They kept me in trance and reinforced my false memories and devotion to her.” Her blinking was more rapid now.
Mistress studied her. “I see, Frances dear. Does it seem strange or inconsistent to you that I didn’t tell you this when I told you about the rest of Capaldi’s scheme?”
Frances slowly shook her head. “No, Alice. Nothing seems strange or inconsistent. I trust you completely and have no need to think about it.”
“Good girl. What must you do about the staff, Frances dear?”
“I—” Frances shivered and her hands almost found her pussy again. Then her eyes seemed to clear. “A-Alice?”
“Yes, Frances dear?” Meredith could smell Mistress’ arousal now.
“Oh, Alice, this feels so gooood. I know it’s all a posthypnotic suggestion. I can almost remember just sitting there with my mind a blank, as you programmed my thoughts.
“But I believe it! I know it’s made up, but I love that you can make me feel like it’s true.”
Mistress shook on the table, but it was silent laughter. “That’s not all you feel, is it?”
Frances rolled her hips more blatantly now. “Umm. No. Thinking about Capaldi turning me into her obedient slave, making me do things . . .” She cocked her head and grinned delightedly at Mistress. “Even believe nonsense about my servants!
“It turns me on so much, Alice.”
“Even outside your trance, Frances? I’m impressed. You’re a perfect subject.”
Frances blushed. “Alice, I understand that you’ve been preparing my mind to do something. I’m to dismiss my household staff. All of them. Now.”
“Yes, Frances dear.” Mistress lay very still. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
“Alice—if I’m to do it under deep hypnosis, I will.
“But I’m willing to fire them all right now.” She stood meekly but proudly, and all of her was moist. “Wide awake.
“If it’s what you want, Alice.”
85.
“Really, Frances. All those people. They’ve really been here for years, serving you loyally. You’d fire them all, just because I tell you to.”
“Yes, Alice.” Her voice trembled but didn’t hesitate.
“We’ll provide for them, of course, Frances. Living quarters, references, longterm severance.”
Tears leaked from Frances’ eyes but they stayed fixed on Mistress. “Thank you, Alice.”
The gleam at her cleft told them all she would have obeyed even without it.
“But who’ll run the estate,” Mistress mused, “if they’re all gone?”
Frances blinked, as if happy to slip back into the sex-dream. She stepped forward, reverently, and knelt before the table. She looked up and raised her hands to slip them beneath Mistress’.
“I would, Alice. Under your control. You could hypnotize me”—she glanced up and licked her lips”—and Meredith, into slaves.” Her thighs slid together slowly. “Permanent ones.
“We’d just work and fuck and do as we were told.”
Mistress purred and reached down to stroke Frances’ forehead. “Do you honestly think that I’d waste my favorite plaything on yardwork and cooking?”
Frances closed her eyes as they rolled up and said nothing as she rose to the caress. When she could open them, she said, “It’s trance logic, Alice. I can be in your bed, and pulling your pony cart, and serving your guests dressed in just a tinsel apron, and . . .” Another caress stilled her.
Mistress chuckled. “You little whore! You just want a way to be my robopet outdoors.”
Frances’ eyes widened as she looked up and whimpered a little. She nodded.
The phone rang.
“Meredith, get that.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Meredith turned smoothly and padded to the phone, staring at the wall as she answered.
“It’s the front gate,” she reported, holding out the receiver.
Mistress shifted her hand and snapped her fingers in front of Frances’ eyes.
Frances dropped her hands from the table and floated to her feet. Rotating, she walked to Meredith, her eyes glassy above the tear-tracks. She took the phone, staring through her daughter.
“This is Ms Stevens.” The focused, assertive tone came eerily from the sleepy-eyed face. “Yes, Thad. I am expecting it. Let them in. They are reliable and I trust them completely.
“They already know where to go. They will drive up behind the main house.
“Please alert all the security points. They are not to be interfered with in any way.
“Everything is under control.” She waited, staring.
“Yes. I’m sure you will. Thank you.” She handed the phone back to Meredith, gazing into space while Meredith hung up.
“You did very well,” Mistress said from the table. Neither of the entranced women spoke. She snapped her fingers.
“Oh, Alice. That felt nice.” Frances blinked awake and kept looking at Meredith, who remained at attention.
“Yes, I know.
“Meredith. Resume your task.”
“Yes, Mistress.” At once, Meredith stepped past her mother and paced back to the table. She poured oil onto her hands, warmed it, and then applied it to Mistress’ thigh.
“I’m sorry, Frances dear. Your daughter is decorative, but I want to use her this way too.”
“Oh, of course, Alice!” Her mother said nothing more and just watched her worship Mistress with her hands.
“Does it bother you that she addresses me that way, Frances?”
“Does—? Oh! No, Alice. It’s . . .” Her mother just watched her for a few moments. “Meredith’s so tame when you have her this way, Alice. She seems to enjoy being controlled. Hearing her call you that—” She took a breath.
“I like seeing my daughter obey you.”
Under Meredith’s hands, Mistress quivered a little.
“I think—I think obedience suits her, Alice. There’s something—arousing about hearing her say it.”
Mistress relaxed as Meredith made long strokes down her thighs. “I have to agree, Frances. She makes a very good bodyslave.
“. . . Would you like me to make her give you a massage?”
Frances started, and fingered a nipple absently. “I . . .”
“Mmmm. I must say that a hypnotized massage girl is the very best. Nothing in her mind but the task, and the compelling need to do it perfectly.
“Isn’t that right, Meredith?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Even as she enjoyed the dimples above Mistress’ ass, Meredith vaguely wished she could keep watching her mother.
Mistress seemed to sense Frances wasn’t quite ready. “I apologize for just trancing you just now without asking, Frances dear.”
Frances moaned softly. “Oh, Alice. I loved it. Like—being a puppet and having you just take my strings.”
“Mmm.” Mistress smiled from the table. “Yes, I suppose you did like that. Still, it was just for my convenience. I’m sure you’d have obeyed me, if I’d asked. It just seemed easier to use you.”
It roused Frances from her fixation on Meredith’s obedience. “Yes—yes, Alice. I understand. You did give me my instructions earlier.” She savored it. “When you hypnotized me at work.
“Um. Is it—Alice, is it all right if I ask what I just told them to let come onto the estate?”
“Certainly, Frances. When your daughter is finished with my massage, we’ll dress, and I’ll take you down and show you.
“Right now, just be quiet.”
There was a shocked little gasp, but it trembled.
For a little while, there was only the half-sound of Meredith’s palms gliding over Mistress’ flesh. Meredith paused to apply more oil to her hands.
“Stop, Meredith.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Go to your mother. Stand behind her.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Frances stood still, hands by her sides, but her eyes were puzzled as she watched her daughter obey.
“Meredith, you can now remember how you touched your girlfriend in the gym this morning, before Ms Davitz took control of you and made you forget.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Meredith enjoyed the new/old memory. Being entranced, and forgetting Leslie was even there, had turned her on more. But this was nice.
“Touch your mother that way.”
“Alice! Ohhhh . . .” Frances tensed as her daughter slid against her from behind. She was trying to resist but her conditioning was already too strong. Even outside hypnosis, she was helpless with Mistress watching her to do anything but submit.
“Meredith . . . no . . .”
Meredith stroked up her thighs and then higher, cupping her breasts. Pressing herself into her mother’s back, she easily ignored an urge to grind her pussy against her mother’s ass. She knew she wasn’t programmed to be fully sexual now.
She liked how her mother’s body differed from Leslie’s: shorter, softer, curving other ways. With Leslie, just before the Instructress had triggered them, her hands had moved slowly on the skin, but now the oil made them slide along her mother’s flanks, breasts, arms.
“Do you enjoy that, Frances dear?”
Frances twitched and leaned back against Meredith, shoulderblades against breasts. “Oh. No.” A quiet sob. “Yesss . . . please, Alice . . .”
Her hair smelled nice as her head sagged back, and Meredith slowed her massage, holding her gently.
“Alice . . . she’s . . . mmmm . . . myyy . . .”
“Yes, Frances dear.” Mistress watched avidly from the table, chin propped on folded arms. “She’s deeply hypnotized and she won’t remember any of this if I tell her not to.”
“But—that’ssss . . .” Frances subsided as Meredith caressed her belly.
“If you want, I can train Leslie to be your attendant. She’s just as docile as your daughter, and I know she’s attracted to you.
“It’s not true that one pretty young slave is just like another, even when she’s hypnotized. But it will be a lot like having Meredith herself serve you, just not . . . quite.”
Frances could only whimper.
“This might be one of those decisions you’ll want to let me make for you, dear.”
Frances writhed slowly, wonderfully, starting to pant. Meredith reached up to her breasts again.
“N-n-no,” she whispered. “I want . . . but . . .”
“Meredith.”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Trigger your mother.”
“B—Alice—!”
Meredith stopped stroking and put her lips to her mother’s ear. Frances whined, but relaxed, already helpless, still panting.
“Mindless slavebitch.”
She almost climaxed as Frances stiffened to attention in her grasp.
“I have no mind.” Frances had kept the robot monotone. “I will o.bey.”
“Yes.” Mistress reared up now, looking like a beautiful sphinx on the table. Her hands grasped at it once, twice. “When my other slave awakens you, you will be aware only of what I tell you now. You will see and hear and know nothing else.”
From behind, Meredith watched her mother breathe. “Yes. On.ly of what you tell me. Know no.thing else.”
“Good slave. Receive your input. You will know that your hypnotized daughter is my massage girl, and that this is all she is doing.
“You will not remember her stroking you and making you hot at my command, except as a thought inside your head. It will blend with the secret longing to ask me to turn your daughter’s lover into your mindless handmaiden.
“More hot fantasies as you masturbate. They will give you a lovely orgasm.
“Confirm, robot slave.”
“Con.firm.” Frances’ drone shuddered a little. “Fan.ta.size. Mas.tur.bate.”
“Good. You will not be aware of the oil on your body. You will go at once and shower because you want to masturbate there.
“Later tonight, Frances dear, before I take you to bed, you will beg to be hypnotized, and I will tell you what to remember and believe about today. You must obey.”
“Con.firm. In.put as.si.mi.la.ted. I must o.bey.”
“Meredith, awaken your mother.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She stepped around in front of her mother again, and put a fingertip between her mother’s eyes. They closed.
“Wake,” she said, and they opened, sweetly glazed.
“Meredith. Resume my massage.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She turned and padded back to the table just as Frances tried to focus on her.
“Alice? What was . . . was . . .”
“Did you have a question, Frances dear?”
“I . . . no, Alice.” Suddenly Frances sounded eerily certain. “I’m sorry. I . . . suddenly I really want to shower now.”
Mistress chuckled, eliding it to a pleased groan as Meredith bore down again. “Try to leave some hot water. I’ll need it soon.”
She rolled onto her back and told Meredith to lean down and lick her to orgasm. Frances came past them to fetch something from the dresser. Deep in Mistress’ scent and softness, Meredith couldn’t comprehend words, but her mother’s tone sounded oblivious to the sex.
Mistress’ self-control was perfect as always, and when she came she moaned instead of screaming. Meredith followed her in to attend her in the shower, as Frances stepped out, ignoring them. Meredith knelt and tasted Mistress again, this time flavored with perfumed soap instead of scented oil. Mistress tranced her while she was still on her knees.
She woke in her own suite, checking out the tank top and shorts she didn’t recall putting on. She noticed Leslie sitting motionless at the computer but felt no need to speak to her girlfriend.
She returned to Mistress. Her mother looked rich and vulnerable, dressed for tennis in a clingy top and pleated miniskirt, her hair in a ponytail. Meredith knew she’d lost a struggle to put on underwear.
“Honey! Alice is going to show us what just arrived! It’s a solution to the staff problem!” She frowned. “Um, are you still hypnotized?”
“Most of the time, Mother.” Meredith smiled reassuringly. “Mistress says it helps me think more clearly if I am only allowed a few thoughts at a time.”
Her mother looked at her and blushed.
“It also keeps me easier to control, if she wants me to do something.”
Mistress grinned at them. “Time to go, girls.”
“Yes, Mistress!” Frances giggled nervously as she said it without thinking, and was quiet as they went down to the back terrace.
86.
Back by the carriage house, a gleaming silver tractor-trailer idled, surprisingly quiet. Meredith could even hear the softer hum of the air-handling box at the front of the trailer. It reminded her somehow of a wasps’ nest, neat and menacing. Two women in the cab looked out through the windshield, not talking. As Mistress led them up to it, the driver opened her door and jumped out, coming to attention beside the truck.
She was a spandex girl, the first Meredith had seen since Mistress returned her.
Tight-bodied in the yellow and black short-shorts and sleeveless top, she wore a ballcap in the same colors and calf boots gleaming as black as her wraparound shades.
“All ready for you, Mistress.” Her voice was clear and brisk.
Frances looked puzzled and moved closer to Mistress. Patting her head, Mistress stepped forward and held out her hand. The driver gave her a PDA from her belt and resumed attention.
“Good,” Mistress said. “Everyone’s awake and fully programmed, and by now they’ll be dressed.” She inclined her head to the woman still sitting dazedly in the cab.
“Ms Sterlitz from the staffing company, Mistress,” said the spandex girl. “She is completely obedient, but a little confused. It was easier to keep her hypnotized.”
Mistress nodded. “Bring her now, Slave Thirty.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Slave Thirty stepped back and mounted the first step to the cab, raised her arm, and snapped her fingers near the driver’s window.
Ms Sterlitz opened her door and descended. In a moment she drifted around the front of the truck and stood facing Slave Thirty’s profile. “I hear and obey.”
Slave Thirty didn’t turn. “This is your Mistress. Obey Her.”
Ms Sterlitz looked at Mistress and blinked awake. “Oh . . . I . . . Ms Holloway, I didn’t . . . expect . . .”
“You brought the papers, of course.” Mistress smiled as the woman’s hand already extended the portfolio. “Focus please, Ms Sterlitz.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ms Sterlitz straightened and seemed to awaken fully, though she knew only Mistress’ presence.
Frances backed away, uncertain as she watched her lover control these two strangers. Her hand crept back and Meredith held it.
“Ah. I see you were able to resolve all the terms in my favor after all.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ms Sterlitz grinned, pleased with herself. “After your assistant let me stare into the spiral again, I finally realized that my requests and ideas were pointless. Then, it was easy just to adopt the contract you suggested.
“I know it is much better for my firm to provide more services than I agreed to, for less money. Setting up my employees to be hypnotized is a special bonus, though I will forget that command other than when I need to help reassure someone.
“When I am awake, I will remember only that it was a better business decision aligned with strategic vision. Thank you, Mistress!”
Frances turned back and smiled at Meredith, eyes shining with relief.
“Of course, Ms Sterlitz. So your firm will provide the extra personnel we may need for maintenance and any internal work, at the fixed rate you know will always be reasonable?”
Ms Sterlitz trembled. “Y-yes, Mistress! Consider us completely at your disposal.” She took a deep breath. “Your wish is our—is my command.”
“And you’ll be happy to continue seeking my guidance from now on, won’t you?”
Ms Sterlitz just nodded blissfully. Her eyes looked just like Frances’ now.
“Good.” Mistress handed back the portfolio. “You will rest now, Ms Sterlitz. Return to the truck, set the CD player to Repeat, and when you are comfortable you will fall asleep. You will hear and believe what the CD tells you. Nothing will rouse you until my assistant tells you to awaken.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Ms Sterlitz made her way back to her perch in the cab.
“How many treatments did she need, Thirty?”
“Not many, Mistress.” The spandex girl had stared forward through it all. “She submitted to the first disguised induction to humor us, without knowing it would hypnotize her. Her company needed the business she thought it would bring her. She was eager to please, and she wanted to believe in us.”
Mistress glanced up as Ms Sterlitz slid the headphones on and closed her eyes. “Well, it is a good rate, notwithstanding.
“I’m ready now.”
“Yes, Mistress!” Slave Thirty left-faced and they followed her down the length of the trailer. As they reached the end she took a cellphone from her belt and Meredith heard it crackle. A smaller doorway had opened in the back of the trailer and some steps extended down. Slave Thirty posted herself by the steps, not looking at the identical spandex girl who looked out the doorway at the top.
Mistress went up first, and beckoned to Frances, who made her way daintily up with one hand on her skirt. Meredith followed, admiring her mother’s ass both under the skirt and when a breeze bared it.
Her mother disappeared into the gloom of the interior, and Meredith heard her gasp.
When her own eyes grew used to the fluorescent light inside, she saw a line of spandex girls along each side of the interior. They stood rigid, looking sleekly mechanical in the brief costumes and boots. Their sunglasses were tucked into the necklines of their tops, and each slavewoman’s eyes stared blankly through her counterpart in the opposite rank, across the narrow walkway that parted them.
Another woman in a nurse’s tunic with a crotch-high hem came more fluidly to attention, only slightly less vacant-eyed than the others.
Behind each slave, Meredith saw a loosely-hanging harness, with wires and tubes—headphones—snaking back to attachment points. However long Mistress’ women had traveled here in the trailer to serve her, they’d spent most of their time hanging like cargo, being programmed.
“Alice!” Frances flowed against Mistress, who put an arm around her to calm her. “Who—what—are they?”
“What do you think of them, Frances dear?”
“They’re . . . beautiful, Alice. They frighten me a little, too. They look so—pitiless.”
Mistress kissed the top of her head.
“They’re your new staff. By now, they’ve been indoctrinated on all they must do to maintain and serve this estate.”
“Indoc—?”
“Yes, Frances. They’ll be completely loyal because they can no longer think of doing anything else.”
“Oh, Alice! They’re—are they hypnotized now?”
“More than that, Frances dear. They’re brainwashed.”
Frances pressed closer to her. She mouthed the word.
“You control them, Alice?”
“Yes, dear. They’re brainwashed to obey only me now. I’ve conditioned them—behavior modification, attitude adjustment, all sorts of things. Obedience is a reflex for them by this point, like breathing or sexual arousal.”
“Did—how did you get them to let you . . . ?”
Mistress kissed her. “You’re not the only woman who yearns for a firm voice to obey.” She allowed herself a sinister smile.
“Few are as aware of that need as you are, of course.”
Meredith watched her mother’s thighs slide together as she imagined some of these strapping women converted against their wills, trying to resist being turned into slaves. Being forcibly brainwashed by other women who already obeyed Mistress, who were what they would become.
Robots making new robots.
“It has so many benefits, my dear. No one can subvert them, much less bribe them. They have no wills now to turn against us. And each will do her work well, no matter how dull or repetitive. She won’t get bored: at menial tasks she’ll know only the ecstasy of a perfect job, while the rest of her mind sleeps until activated.”
“Slave Twenty-five.”
The microskirted nurse stepped forward. “All slaves arrived healthy and programmed, Mistress. Bodies are fit and minds are obedient.”
Nodding, Mistress watched that work its magic on Frances, then gestured again without looking. The nurse went instantly still, as if only Mistress’ attention animated her.
“They’re utterly content, Frances. Each girl works, obeys, and hears only the voice she’s programmed to believe.”
“Your voice.” Frances gazed up adoringly. “I know how it feels to be controlled by that voice.”
Mistress smiled and stroked her hair.
“Would you like me to program them to obey your voice, too, Frances dear?”
Frances looked at her and then shook her head. “We both know how weak-willed I am, Alice. If I weren’t already under your hypnotic guidance, well—who knows what sort of foolish choices I’d make!” She looked at the slavewomen and slid closer against Mistress. “Or what I might tell obedient servants to do, if it had been too long since you’d . . . influenced me.
“And what if—” Still watching them, Frances slid her hand under her skirt. “What if someone like Capaldi hypnotized me again? Maybe a phone call that put me into a trance. They could make me tell these women to unlock doors, go to sleep at . . . guardposts . . .”
Aside from the air conditioner’s hum, the only sound in the trailer was Frances’ panting as she masturbated.
She stopped before orgasm, and looked up again at Mistress. “Alice?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Maybe that’s . . . what I need. To be like them. No longer vulnerable to anyone else’s control.
“Unable to obey anyone but you, my love.”
Mistress kissed her.
Then she looked thoughtful. “Do you really want me to brainwash you, Frances?”
Frances glanced nervously at Meredith, and seeing her tranced daughter seemed to confuse her. When she looked back, Mistress’ stare had hardened.
It transfixed Frances before she could do more than open her mouth to ask how she’d misbehaved, and then her thoughts fell apart. Her submission aroused Meredith, who could almost feel her mother’s sleepy need to be programmed, now that her mind was opening and softening.
Mistress only held her like that for a while, then looked away at her two ranks of spandex girls.
After a moment, Frances’ gaze refocused and she blinked herself more fully awake, flushed a little from the casual mindfuck. Mistress sensed when she was herself again. “You do have something to do for me now, Frances dear.”
“The staff! Yes. I—yes, Alice.” Frances looked unhappy again, but her need to please controlled her.
“It’s all right, my little one,” Mistress said, dazing her with a new smile. “I don’t want you to feel any pain at all as you dismiss those people. You’ll be—anesthetized.
“Besides, as you just said, otherwise you could be hypnotized out of doing it. Capaldi could have primed some of them with triggers to control you. Once they had your mind, they’d reinstruct you.”
Even as Frances looked appalled, her nipples showed clearly through her top.
“Don’t worry.” Mistress looked back at the other slaves. “Meredith.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“I’ve implanted in your mind how to program your mother for her new task. You will remember it now.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Meredith stepped forward, enjoying her mother’s arousal and worry as she took her arm. “Come, Mother. Mistress needs to awaken the new arrivals.
“And you are to be hypnotized.”
Her mother let herself be led from the fluorescently-lit dreamworld of the trailer. She gazed at Slave Thirty and her companion, still at attention by the back door, but didn’t try to speak to them. When Meredith stopped, she looked up.
“Baby, before you put me under, I think—can we talk? I know I want to—”
“It’s all right, Mother. I understand.”
Frances hitched a breath and wiped at her eye. “Thank god. This is all so strange, and happening so fast! I feel soooo good doing what Alice tells me to, but there’s still so much . . . anyway, you do understand.” She smiled and reached up to cup Meredith’s cheek.
“Completely, Mother. Mistress implanted everything I needed to know to control you properly.”
“. . . What? But—”
“You just need to relax and obey her, Mother.
“And you will. Mindless slavebitch.”
87.
Everything glowed.
Mistress had told Meredith that it would, and she’d passed that truth to her mother as she’d prepared her. Her mother had absorbed all of it the first time, but Meredith’s instructions had been to program her again, and Frances had sealed it all in with a hand between her own legs.
Both women were performing brilliantly as they systematically fired everyone here who wasn’t yet under Mistress’ control. Even in their deep trances, they sensed that and enjoyed it.
Frances held court in a wing chair, legs sleek in the dark hose as she kept them crossed under the leather mini. Meredith stood poised at her right hand, wearing a white blouse and short pleated kilt her mother had selected after they were both in trance. Once Frances was activated, Meredith lapsed into being the Obedient Daughter, enjoying the hot-schoolgirl look. For now, she was Frances’ servile little girl, even as Frances was just a windup doll herself, doing and saying only what Mistress wanted.
The parlor suited them by having two doors, each guarded by an expressionless spandex girl, more demure in a pantsuit than either of the Stevens women. The staff gathered nervously in the larger main salon were admitted one at a time through one, to be sent out the other. Meredith didn’t know what happened after that, but Mistress didn’t need her to.
In one longer pause, mother and daughter looked at each other. Meredith saw the plastic smile on her mother’s face and the too-focused look in her eyes. She could tell, even so, that her mother was feeling the gentle pressure of the dildo Meredith had commanded her to imagine, and losing herself further in the pleasure.
Each word Frances spoke to a dismissee as she obeyed her program made it grow a little bit larger, throb a little bit harder inside her.
The door opened and they both snapped into position. The spandex girl admitted the next servant. It was Anthony the groundskeeper, his face still loose with shock. He came to them hesitantly, looking more worried with each step as they both smiled at him.
They had practiced the smiles for a while before Mistress had been satisfied.
“Anthony. I want to thank you so much for all your years of faithful service.” Frances purred the speech and made it sound almost sincere. Meredith beamed at him when he looked to her.
“But . . . Ms Stevens . . . all of us just want to know, what we did, what we might have done . . . please . . .”
Frances smiled and waited until she remembered the correct response. “I understand your feelings, Anthony. But there’s nothing punitive about this at all. Meredith?”
“Yes, Mother.” Meredith pivoted to the table beside her and took the correct envelope, then stepped forward and handed it to Anthony, simpering the way her mother was. “Thank you so much, Anthony!”
“We’ve arranged for extensive severance.” Her mother’s perky, infomercial cadence gave no clue of her arousal. “And you’ll have immediate accommodations, at a condominium community I own near here. Stellar references whenever you need them.”
He looked down at the thick envelope the way some of the others had. It was too much to put aside to ask questions or even vent the anguish. Meredith wondered if any of their old staff would do that anyway—look at the two women they’d served for years and demand to know Why.
She wondered how she and her mother were programmed to respond.
It didn’t bother her. Mistress controlled them, and her spandex slavewomen were all around. Anyway, Mistress would already know if anyone was going to cause trouble. She’d reviewed all the personnel files, and questioned both of them in deep trance about every servant. Meredith remembered helping her access the files, though of course she recalled nothing of the interview.
Anthony just shook his head and looked up.
“Thank you so much for coming.” Frances smiled up from the chair, flexing her legs a little and making no move to rise and greet him.
He looked at her intensely, as if trying to reconnect with her somehow.
“Meredith.”
“Yes, Mother.” She stepped forward, taking Anthony’s arm lightly and guiding him away from the chair toward the rear door of the parlor, where another of Mistress’ amazons waited impassively. She saw her mother’s gaze lose focus and drift toward the far door again, already forgetting Anthony, still smiling.
“Miss Meredith?” Anthony whispered. She knew he was thinking of times when he’d helped her down out of a tree, or let her help him with some shrubbery, or just talked to her.
She could feel it in her pussy as she stared back at him, glassily smiling, as it all slid off her. “Thank you so much for coming,” she sang, just as her mother had. She felt like a game-show model leading a loser off the set.
“But—”
“Heeere you go!” she cooed, releasing him and nodding to the spandex girl, who opened the door. Anthony seemed to consider pausing and trying to appeal to her—maybe just to see her acknowledge that kind of memory—but she just cocked her head and made her smile even more vapid.
“’Bye now!”
Meredith knew her bimbotic attitude just intensified the spandex girl’s quiet menace, and Anthony glanced nervously at the silent woman before hurrying out. The other slave watched him go and then nodded to Meredith.
Meredith loved submitting to the new staff. She nodded back and rejoined her mother to wait.
Frances breathed evenly. She was placid, open to the stimulus of the next new employee to smile at and fire, but without the slightest will to initiate action or even to wonder when she would be required to perform her task again.
Something changed in Meredith’s thoughts. She realized she’d been keeping count of the servants as they were fired, and there were no more. She turned to her mother.
“We have completed our task, Mother. You obeyed Mistress’ command.”
Beaming, Frances stood up, and then looked confused. “It feels so nice, but what must I do now?”
Meredith smiled as the next command slid into her mind. “You can report to Mistress personally that you were a good girl and did as you were told.” She reached to unfasten her skirt.
“And you can do it naked.”
Her mother blushed and her mouth made an “O,” but her eyes gleamed. She hugged herself. “That’s—that’s right, isn’t it, baby? We can do anything like that we want, now.” She began to unbutton her blouse.
“It almost feels as though I finally do own this place!”
They laughed, and watched each other undress. They took off everything but their hose and shoes. Frances fidgeted with her garter belt before Meredith stepped to her, caressed her hands, and drew them away from it.
“Leave it on, Mother.” Meredith stroked the dark band and kissed her. “It’s so much kinkier.”
There was no one in the adjacent room where the spandex girls had kept the servants waiting. Frances made a nervous little gasp and took her daughter’s hand. There were some of Mistress’ empty-eyed slaves in the atrium beyond, but none looked askance at the nude Stevens women. Their heels clicking on the marble, Meredith and her mother walked hand in hand to Frances’ office, where a girl in a yellow and black bikini and sunglasses stood rigidly on guard. Her opaque wraparounds reflected them.
Squeezing Meredith’s hand, her mother walked toward her office door.
The spandex girl swiveled her head. “Entry is not authorized.”
“But—!” Frances stiffened and stared at her, then subsided almost at once. She bowed her head a little. The guard’s gaze swung forward again.
“I understand. I’m sorry.” She backed away and turned to Meredith, and put a hand to her forehead, reaching for Meredith with the other.
“But I . . . don’t understand. I feel so strange. I . . . that’s my office. I want to go in but . . .” She looked up at Meredith. “But it feels so nice to do as I’m told.”
“As nice as you feel when Mistress commands you, Mother?”
“No, but—this is a servant!” Frances’ voice wavered. “Submitting to a servant is . . . but I can’t resist. Honey, what’s happened to me?”
Meredith put an arm around her mother’s bare shoulders. “Relax, Mother. You were right when you told Mistress the risks of programming the staff to obey your voice, or mine. We’re so suggestible.
“But for the same reason, it made sense for her to program us to obey the staff.” She looked into her mother’s wide eyes and let it sink in. “After all, Mother, she brainwashed this girl and the others.
“They’re just puppets. Extensions of her will. Anything they do or say is her will.”
Frances smiled, and leaned up to kiss her. “Of course, darling. I understand now. The one I just obeyed now was—Alice.”
As if that were a cue, the spandex girl pivoted and opened the office door. “You may enter now.”
They stepped past her and found Mistress at the desk, looking over some papers with interest. By her elbow at glassy-eyed attention, Clare held a tray. Her maid costume was hardly there—wisps of translucent fabric pretended to be an apron that showed her rouged nipples and bare pussy. White fishnet hose sheathed her legs above high-heeled pumps.
Donna stood behind Mistress in an identical costume. Her mind was empty now of any memory of dominating Frances while her employer marched obediently around in silver makeup and little else.
Frances gaped at them, then smiled and came to attention herself. “Task completed, Alice! I dismissed everyone—as you instructed.”
Mistress smiled, and looked at Frances’ dampening cleft and rock-hard nipples before looking her in the face. “Well of course you did, dear. You always obey commands so well.”
Frances squeezed her thighs at both the praise and the scorn.
“And by now, Frances, my other slaves report that the last of the outsiders has been escorted from the grounds.” Mistress gestured to the spellbound maids without looking. “Except for these two, but they’re mine now.
“It cost quite a bit more for movers to take that many, that quickly, but you didn’t mind paying.”
Frances shook her head. “N-no.” She breathed deeply, shudderingly, imagining herself free to prance around the estate like this. “No outsiders in the way.”
Then she straightened, and Meredith could smell her excitement. “Oh—Alice. That means there’s no one here who isn’t brainwashed or hypnotized to obey you.”
“Well, except me,” Mistress pointed out.
Frances trembled. “Yes. Your will is law, here.
“I—I’m glad you found my office useful tonight. Is there a room you’d like to use as—?”
Mistress laughed. “Do you want it back, Frances?”
Frances looked down, squirming as if newly aware of her whore-at-play undress. “It just felt strange—not being allowed to . . .”
“This estate only needs one office, Frances. Now that you trust me, I’m changing a few things to help you. There are some places that it’s not useful to me for you to go. The slavegirls will correct you until you learn, but I can also prepare you directly.”
“But Alice, I still need an . . .” Frances trailed off as Mistress stared into her eyes.
“Offices are for decisions, Frances dear. Not for girls who need help to make decisions.
“All girls like that—girls like you—really need is a chance to listen to, and to obey, the women with minds and wills. Who tell them what to decide.”
Meredith watched her mother’s head bob up and down. “Yes . . . I . . . understand . . .”
Just accepting it, Frances sent herself back into trance. “I will listen and . . . obey . . .”
88.
Mistress waited while Frances awoke. “Naturally, you may go anywhere. But from now on, I think you will only come to this office after I give you permission.” She smiled. “Or if you’ve been hypnotized and summoned. Either way, you’ll be unable to anything but what I tell you to do. Doesn’t that make sense, Frances dear?”
“Of course, Alice,” Frances said drowsily. “I . . . can’t even recall why I objected. But how will I know where I may go? What if I—?”
Mistress subdued Frances with a wave of her hand.
“My slaves are installing sensors outside certain rooms. Clare?”
Clare paced around the desk to stare between Frances and Meredith, holding her tray with the plastic purple wristwatch Mistress had used on Meredith, before conditioning her to obey completely. Frances raised her right arm and Meredith put the watch on it, then took the tray from Clare and put it on a table. All three women returned to attention.
“If you try to go anywhere you mustn’t, Frances dear, the sensors will do this.” The watch beeped loudly, and Frances hand rose across her chest like a salute as her eyelids fluttered. Meredith caught her as she started to sag. Clare didn’t respond.
“One tone will stun you, like that. Repeated tones will put you to sleep if you try to enter despite them. You’ve been conditioned to them—you can’t resist.”
“I don’t want to resist,” Frances whispered, straightening again. “Alice, I . . . accept that you need to control things, to keep me safe from becoming a mind-controlled pawn again. But I’d rather obey you consciously. If you just tell me where I mustn’t go, I won’t.
“I want to be a good girl. Your good girl. Please?”
Mistress smiled at her. “You are my very good girl, Frances. All staff are programmed to know those areas. Clare can indoctrinate you.”
“Thank you, Alice.”
“Awaken her now and have her brief you.”
“Yes, Alice.” Frances raised her hand to the entranced maid, and snapped her fingers.
Clare blinked and simpered. Then she saw who’d awakened her, and her servile smile grew predatory. “How may I serve you, Ms Stevens?”
Frances swallowed. Her nipples stiffened again. “I—um. I need to be indoctrinated in what areas are—forbidden to me.” She ran her left hand over the purple watch.
“Of course, Ms Stevens.” Clare led her to a credenza. “I can show you on the floorplan.” She cocked her head in mock-dismay. “It’s complex, though. It might be hard for you to remember and obey.”
Frances knew she was being baited, but her hips moved. She wanted more of it. She licked her lips. “Maybe I’d be easier to instruct if you hypnotize me, Clare.”
Clare’s eyes seemed to glow. “Mindless slavebitch.”
Frances froze.
“I have no mind. I will o.bey.”
Clare began speaking softly, directing her gaze to each point on the floorplan.
“Slave.”
Meredith looked back instantly. “Yes, Mistress.” The last thing she remembered was Mistress’ eyes before she went to sleep . . .
When she opened her own eyes again they were outside the office, and there were fresh commands in her head.
Spandex girls stalked by, empty of anything but their own errands. Her mother looked at her. “Baby? When Clare woke me all I knew was that I had to lead you out and wake you.” Frances writhed a little. “She must have given me another posthypnotic suggestion.”
“You obey them well, Mother.”
Meredith slipped an arm around Frances’ waist and they walked back to the atrium side by side. She knew it excited her mother, and now some of the spandex girls did turn to look at them. A few smiled under dead eyes. One licked her lips, and Meredith felt her mother’s heart gallop.
They passed one of the parlors Frances had made into display halls for antiques. Frances stopped dead by the open door. “What are they doing?”
Two slavewomen in black and yellow bikinis were wrapping items that three others brought to them from the cases and shelves. They all moved like clockwork toys, smooth and unhurried. They didn’t react to each other, each one focused on her own task. Meredith remembered playing robot while her mother’s voice controlled her every movement, and she knew she’d looked like these girls.
They wore no headsets to obey. As they moved through the room she sensed each was programmed with what to retrieve and pack. Like an automated factory, they stepped and reached and grasped and turned and carried.
Frances stared incredulously, then squared her bare shoulders and started to walk into the room, one hand already rising to gesture.
Then she froze and shuddered, bringing her legs together. Her hand floated over to her chest to stroke the purple watchband. The sleeptone hadn’t sounded yet.
Meredith went past her to look back at her. “Mother?”
“I mustn’t go in,” she whispered meekly. “But—those things have been in the family for . . . that bowl! My grandmother’s bowl, the one she gave me before—!”
Blinking, she noticed another spandex girl just inside the doorway, motionless as a suit of armor.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Slave Thirty, who’d brought the rest of them in the truck. Her toneless voice was as robotic as the bikinied workers’ motion, though not the staccato Frances used when she played fembot. More fully dressed with her tank top, boots, and hotpants in Mistress’ colors, she seemed in control of the others.
“What are they doing, S . . . Slave Thirty?”
“Selected items are to be loaded for transit and sale, Ma’am.”
“What?” Shock warred with Frances’ desire to submit. “Who authorized this?”
“It was a decision, Ma’am.”
It hit Frances like a tranquilizer dart. “A . . . decision. From the office?” she asked bashfully. “Where Alice—decides things?”
Bootheels clicked on the floor as the girl stepped out and held out a clipboard. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Frances’ brow furrowed, then smoothed as she read. “If Alice ordered it, it must be done.” She handed the clipboard back. “Thank you, Slave—Thirty?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“I’m very, very sorry for making a fuss, Slave Thirty. And for interfering in your task.”
“There is no problem, Ma’am. Work has not been interrupted. I am programmed to answer your questions.”
Frances seemed eager to keep groveling. “I should have remembered it—it’s Alice’s idea, after all. But since I didn’t, I . . .” She licked her lips.
“I must have been hypnotized when I signed this.” She breathed it. Without seeming to know it, she reached up and cupped a breast, imagining herself in trance. She looked in again at the slavewomen busy taking her heirlooms. Even as her head seemed to clear, and she realized she was being pillaged, her new training reshaped her reaction.
“I’m just so glad I’m allowed to be awake now, and see Alice’s orders being obeyed.” Now her hand dipped between her thighs and she grunted once.
Slave Thirty stayed where she was, watching Frances impassively, even when Frances blinked and realized she was touching herself in public.
One of the suggestions Mistress had implanted while Meredith slept now opened in Meredith’s mind. She stroked her mother’s back, running her fingertips down to make slow circles on Frances’ asscheek.
Her mother looked up dazedly. “Oh, honey, not there, that’s . . . that’s . . .”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Mother, to see women obeying Mistress?” Meredith watched it subdue her mother’s attempt to resist touch. The smooth buttock moved against her hand. “Wouldn’t it be even better to be part of it? To help them?
“To obey, like them?”
Mistress had already put the idea in Frances’ mind, but like so many things Frances was being trained to do, she was trained to need to be told to do them. Now she touched herself again, beaming at the oblivious spandex girls.
“You may be useful to these brainwashed slaves, Mother. But you must ask them first.”
Nearly coming, Frances stepped away from her hand toward Slave Thirty. “May I? May I help them? Oh—I can help them pack! I know where things are, and—”
“That is not authorized, Ma’am,” Slave Thirty said. As if Frances’ crestfallen expression had touched her, she explained. “These slaves have already been programmed with selections and load sequence. A non-integrated labor unit would not be useful.”
Meredith slid against her mother, easing her right thigh against Frances’ ass and her breast against her back. “Of course not, Mother. You’re not a well-conditioned slave like them. It was nice to aspire to serve like them, but thinking you could was just silly.”
Her mother trembled against her.
Part of that was Slave Thirty watching her humiliate herself. After a moment, the slave spoke. “However, after packing completion, burdens will be undifferentiated. Additional labor units could be useful.”
“Please? Slave Thirty? May I be an additional labor unit? I promise I’ll obey orders!”
“You will be permitted to carry containers to the shipping vehicle, if you are capable.” As Meredith moved away, Frances came to attention. Slave Thirty began to walk around Frances, feeling her arms and legs and belly. Meredith could smell her mother’s need. “Have you been physically trained for use?”
“I . . . ohhh . . . my Instructress says my body’s as weak as my mind, but . . . I’m very good at doing what I’m told.”
“Your body will be adequate for smaller items.”
“Oh—thank you, Slave Thirty! I’ll—oh!”
“Explain.” The slavewoman didn’t call her Ma’am now.
“I’m not allowed to enter that area.” She stroked the sleepwatch. “Alice has me under discipline.”
Her eyes lit up. “But—I may, if I’m hypnotized, or obeying orders!” She grinned at Meredith and looked back at Slave Thirty. “When I’m in trance, I can walk right through that door without falling asleep, and carry out any instructions you give me!”
Slave Thirty nodded, and Frances turned to her daughter. “Baby? Trigger me, please!”
“Are you sure you want me to, Mother?” Meredith didn’t smile.
Frances squirmed. “Oh, Meredith, please! Hypnotize me to obey Slave Thirty!”
Meredith let her need it for another few moments. “Mindless slavebitch.”
Frances snapped rigid. “I have no mind. I will o.bey.” Meredith programmed her to be aware of what she was doing, though totally passive. Then she told Frances to step through the doorway.
The sleeptone sounded, its compelling sound making Meredith drowsy. Wide-eyed in the grip of her more powerful compulsion, Frances kept walking, unable to respond. Meredith had put nothing else into her mind but a command to wait until the others finished packing.
She followed her mother in, enjoying how the older woman looked as she obeyed. Now Frances waited by a table, staring through the bikinied drone who was wrapping her grandmother’s bowl. When the package was sealed, the drone handed it to her. Thirty told her tonelessly that it would be her first load. Frances didn’t react.
A posthypnotic suggestion activated Meredith. Obeying it dampened her.
“Mother?”
Frances stared forward.
“Are you going to give them Nana’s bowl, Mother?”
“I am an additional labor unit.” Frances’ monotone shook with arousal. “I must carry the load I am told to. I must obey.”
When the spandex girls were done, Thirty reinstructed them. None looked at the nude additional labor unit before they marched out of the mansion to the back courtyard to a waiting truck. Most loads required pairs of slaves to use harnesses, but some were small enough for single slaves like Frances.
In line between the bikini-clad automatons, Frances stopped, waiting obediently for the next command. The slave beside the truck, more fully dressed like Thirty, spoke to her. Frances gave away her grandmother’s bowl without looking at it again.
She faced the truck, hips moving almost imperceptibly, until commanded to return for another load.
89.
The slavewomen bore their last loads to the truck, Frances in their midst. They turned mechanically back toward the house until Slave Thirty gestured and they stopped. Frances blinked, but conformed helplessly and joined the line they formed. Then confusion left her and her eyes glazed over again, soothed into submission. Thirty gestured again. The spandex girls pivoted as one and walked in lockstep toward the side of the mansion.
Frances followed mindlessly until Meredith stepped forward and gripped her arm, just above the sleepwatch. Her mother pulled vaguely against her, then submitted, wide-eyed. Meredith snapped her fingers.
Her mother woke and sagged against her, breath hot and quick on Meredith’s bare shoulder. She gazed longingly at the receding slaves, legs scissoring in synch beneath the high-cut bikinis.
“I must go with them.” She swayed and blinked, looking up and blushing. “Meredith? Where are they . . . going?”
Meredith spoke the implanted response. “They are to be used for other labor.”
Frances tensed, imagining more burdens she could bear while sleepwalking. Then she stirred. “But it’s already nighttime.”
“For slaves, all time is for serving, Mother. If Mistress has other tasks for them, they will perform.” She looked down, loving Frances’ doe-eyed wonder and her obvious arousal. “But they will probably be reindoctrinated, to deepen their brainwashing. They will look into a blinking light while they are told to obey.”
Frances swayed again, one hand floating near her own pussy.
“Then they will be told to sleep. They will dream of the light. When they awaken, they will be ready for new tasks.”
Frances whimpered and touched herself. “If I went with them now . . .”
“Just being there would hypnotize you instantly, Mother. You have not undergone the mindwipe that destroyed their free will, but you are a perfect subject. You would still have thoughts—you would just be unable to think them.” She let Frances dampen to that.
“And Mistress has many women to bear her loads, Mother. She has other uses for your obedience.” Frances gaped up at her, and then slid against her, resting her head on Meredith’s shoulder.
“U-uses?” She seemed vaguely bothered, but it was exciting her too much. “For my obedience?”
“Yes, Mother. You’re her very pretty, very submissive bedpet.” She felt her mother twitch, and eased away. “And—you will be a very useful puppet to control the company.”
Frances closed and opened her eyes, as if for the first time. She straightened, hugging herself, and looked around. The spandex girls she’d toiled with were gone, perhaps already lost in the blinking light. Slave Thirty and one or two others were still there.
She was realizing she was naked and horny in her own courtyard, that she’d just made herself wet by helping loot her own heirlooms, under the hypnotic control of a brainwashed slave. That she was responding to deeper control herself.
That more than anything else, it turned her on hard.
Before she could form a thought of her own, Meredith spoke softly. “How did it feel, Mother?”
“It was like I was one of them.” Frances moved her hips again, still warm in the memory. “And I was. Nothing but a drone with an empty mind. Just the pleasure of obeying. I knew I was just . . . a labor unit. Arms and legs to do my hypnotist’s will, with no will of my own. It felt . . . ohhh.”
She raised her head and looked at the truck when its engine started.
“I could feel it happening to me,” she whispered, and touched her pussy before realizing what she was doing. “I knew I was just giving away what was mine, but . . . I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to help myself.”
She swallowed hard and looked up at Meredith. “I kept dreaming that when I was done, I’d be too blank, too passive to try to come back to the house. Just helpless, just standing there needing someone . . . ohhh . . . to tell me what to do.” She forced her hand away from her crotch, but leaned her head back as her hand drifted inward again.
“But when someone did—instead of going back, I dreamed we’d all be told to climb onto the truck with the load and just go to sleep. So they could use us to unload it.”
She gasped. “I kept drifting in and out of it. Being ordered around in my own parlor. Hearing that brainwashed woman tell me what box to pick up, not even knowing what thing of mine was inside—and my mind full of wanting that, needing to obey. Oh my god. Watching the body of the woman in front of me, carrying her load . . . knowing she was even blanker than I was, just mindlessly obedient . . . but that I was obeying just . . . like . . . her . . .”
Frances thrust herself onto her hand, and then held herself back from doing it again. “But I—kept thinking. Of that moment, being . . . being . . . told to climb up. Lost. Too late to resist. Can’t resissst . . .
“I’d be”—she shivered eagerly—“too deep in trance to disobey, or even try. To call you. To h-help me. Before the truck started moving I’d . . . obey the command and be fast asleep with the others.” She started to stroke herself again. “With the other obedient slaves.
“Then, when we got to whoever will be getting—my possessions—we’d just be reactivated. They’d see me with the other slaves just blankly laboring away.
“Maybe Slave Thirty would sell me to whoever it was, too. I’d just submit. She’d give them my trigger words and tell me they owned me and to obey them. And just drive away.
“And . . . then I’d have to . . . unh . . . o-o-obey them and never . . . and they’d make . . . me . . . and . . . and! And!” Frances jerked in climax, her breasts bouncing a little. She looked desperately at Meredith. “Oh god! That’s so awful.” She looked down shyly—then made herself look up.
“But . . . I still want to play with myself!” Her laugh was faint and panicky.
“Baby? Would you put me under now? Please? Just hypnotize me? I just need to rest my mind a little.” She closed her eyes but opened them quickly. “Unless Alice wants—unless she programmed you not to.” She stared at Meredith, wet-lipped: just saying that had been like touching herself again.
She came slowly to attention. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep losing my train of thought. If she didn’t keep me hypnotized, I couldn’t even think.
“Yes. It’s what I should have asked first. What I must always ask first.
“What does Alice want me to do now, Meredith?”
Asking it aloud excited her more, and Meredith let her go on. “Did she have more orders for me to obey? Did she . . .” Frances gaped at her, touching herself again. “Did she program you to do something else to me, baby?”
Meredith went to her mother and slid against her, putting her arms around her. She could feel the older woman’s racing heart and deep breathing. Her mother’s juice licked her thighs when she leaned in.
“Yes, Mother. It is Mistress’ will that I prepare her pet for bed.” Meredith grinned at her. “Soon you will be her little silver slutbot again.
“But tonight—a vampire shall feast.”
Frances was giddy as Meredith led her back to the house. She forgot dreams about accidental abduction and imagined what Mistress herself was going to do to her.
In her suite, she stood still as Meredith turned her into appealing prey. Other than the sleepwatch, which both women knew must always control her, Frances wore only the dark hose, all that remained of the lady of the manor who’d just exiled all her retainers. After sliding them off her legs, Meredith draped her mother in a gauzy peignoir that hid nothing at all.
Standing behind Frances, she beamed at their reflections in the mirror. “So vulnerable and inviting—certainly the vampiress will want you again, Mother! Will you wear a crucifix to protect you from her spell?”
Frances shook and simpered into the mirror. “Oh, do you think she might stalk me tonight?”
Meredith stroked her throat, where makeup had covered the hickeys while her mother had been in the office playing a free woman. Then she kissed it.
“She left her mark on you, Mother. She claims you. She will make your will into mist, and her will into yours, and summon you to her side. You will obey her call and go. Then she will take you.”
Leaning back against her, Frances moved her ass against Meredith’s loins. “Oh, but I . . . I must resist it. I must fight her!”
Her head lolled back and she put her cheek to Meredith’s. “Will you help me to resist her evil spell, dear daughter? Will you stay awake with me and snap me out of the sinister trance, and keep me from sleepwalking to my . . . dooooommmm . . . ?”
Meredith put her lips to her mother’s and kissed her. “Of course, dear Mother. We will watch the night together and then we can find someone with a stronger mind than yours to free you from this dark bondage.”
“Yes,” Frances murmured, warm against her, admiring herself in the diaphanous gown. “Maybe that dashing Dr Alice Holloway! She’s . . . captivated me each time I met her. Perhaps she could fascinate me again, and under her influence I might be able to fight off the vampire’s call.”
“Oh, Mother! Do you mean Dr Holloway practices . . . hypnotism?” Meredith released her and stepped around to look at her, miming shock with raised hands. “But she might—make you her own willing slave!”
“Mmmm . . . oh, no, dear! I trust her completely. Anyway, if we can get through this night, I can ask her to—
“Meredith? What’s wrong? Your eyes are so . . . strange . . .”
Meredith swayed, blinking. “W-what? Mother? I’m . . . sorry. I’m just suddenly so very sleepy. It’s that . . . soothing . . . music . . .”
“But Meredith, I don’t hear any music!”
Meredith smiled deeply and sank to her knees. “So very relaxing . . . a lullaby . . . I must go to sleep . . .”
Frances put one hand to her mouth in feigned horror, while the other slipped under the nightgown’s hem. “Oh, no! It’s her—it’s the vampire! She’s casting her evil spell so I’ll have no one to help me! Oh Meredith, you have to resist it and stay awake! Otherwise, I’ll . . .”
She moaned eagerly. “I’ll have to yield to her will . . . obey the summons . . . go to her . . . be with her . . . be . . . hers . . .”
Meredith opened her eyes with an effort and looked into her mother’s, once, then smiled sweetly and whispered “Must . . . sleeeeep . . .” and closed them again, still kneeling as she bowed her head.
Frances moaned again, and then Meredith heard her narrate to herself as she saw the dark figure outside the French doors on the terrace, beckoning her with its still presence—and the vampiric hold it already had over her mind and soul.
When her mother’s panting receded, Meredith peeked, watching her make her somnambulistic way to the doors and onto the terrace, following helpless and needful where Mistress led her to be bitten.