The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

James Denton paced back and forth across the room, listening as Dr Bradford finished relating the test subject’s progress. The other doctors, each having given the findings in their own departments of expertise, stood quietly, while their boss paced back and forth. Mr. Denton was not known for his patience, and it had been nearly a week since the girl had been brought in.

“...and while she has taken in and accepted all of the programming,” Alex Bradford concluded, “there still seems to be... well... some serious gaps. It’s like her entire personality wasn’t just overwritten, it was destroyed. She’s... well, she’s like a damned ZOMBIE, is what she’s like. She could as well be a robot, for all that she is responding to her programming.”

Denton grunted, coming at last to a stop. “In other words, the plan of making a true agent, a person completely untraceable and indistinguishable from any NORMAL person is in jeopardy because now that her mind has been erased, she has no personality, no way to blend in and look or sound human. Does that about sum up the situation?”

Dr. Bradford nodded. “Yes, sir. At the moment, Zero-One-Four would attract less attention that the new test subject. And... well, I have a few other concerns—”

“Yes, well, I think we are ALL familiar with your concerns, Doctor,” Denton said with a dismissive air. “The solution to this problem is simplicity itself. Here is what I propose we do. We have the equipment and the technology at our disposal to digitally record and insert thoughts and ideas from one subject and insert them into another. Well, we are going to simply take it all a step further. We’re going to do the same, not so much with THOUGHTS as with FEELINGS! With mental and emotional response to stimuli. We’ll have each of the researchers take turns, having these responses digitally encoded, until we are able to form a working model, one that we can alter to the desired specifications. Then, we simply upload this new hybrid ‘personality’ into the subject in place of her own.”

The doctors all murmured among themselves in discussion. “That should work,” Karen McDonald said finally, “but I think we need a broader base than just the ten of us on the research team. Besides, only three of us are female, and we can’t very well build a realistic FEMALE personality from a bunch of testosterone fed psyches like these!” she said, gesturing to the other doctors in the room.

James frowned, pondering for a moment. “Point taken. I’ll see about... acquiring a few more volunteers for this, then. But make this a priority! I promised those hotheads in Washington a working model for another demonstration, to show them the versatility of this project. We have a very definite timetable here, people... and we’re walking a thin line with the government as it is!”

Dr. Bradford barely managed to hold his snort of disgust. The increasing difficulties with their financial backers in the government was a direct result of Denton’s personal vendetta with General Sherman Wilson. As long as they stayed on track, and continued to make progress, they were fine, but the moment they came up against any unexpected difficulties, the military brass was on their case, threatening to cancel what they termed, ‘a vastly unstable, dangerous, and not-entirely-moral’ project. Having been at the demonstration, Alex had no illusions as to what Wilson would do to them if the project proved to be a failure.

Leavenworth, and that’s IF we’re lucky.

“Okay, gentlemen,” Denton said, sitting back down at his desk. “I’ll handle the girls for creating the model. They’ll be arriving within the hour.” Glancing to the side, he nodded at Dr. McDonald. “Karen, I want you to take charge of this particular project. Your background in Psychology makes you the best choice for this one. As for the rest of you, just because I’ve made THIS project a priority doesn’t mean I want Project Zero One Four neglected! I want both Zero-One-Four and Zero-One-Five ready to present to the military brass by the first of the month. So, you’ll all have your hands full.” Nodding to everyone, he gestured to the door. “That’ll be all. You’re dismissed.”

Filing out of the room, Dr Bradford lagged behind. “Mr. Denton, sir, I really must protest. I think Dr McDonald is a... well, a very... competent researcher—”

“But you’d rather that YOU regained control of this project, like in the beginning?” James finished. Steepling his fingers, he glared up at his head researcher. “I think we can cut to the chase, here, Alex. We’ve been at odds with one another since the very beginning of this little project years ago. I don’t like you. You’re opinionated, arrogant, and a know-it-all.” He smirked, seeing the doctor stiffen. “You are also very brilliant, which is why I tolerate you. You brought in all of the other doctors working on this project, with the exception of Dr McDonald and Dr Murray; without you, we could never have come this far.” His amusement left. “Let me make it clear. I’ve come too far now to screw around with you and your little tantrums. Karen McDonald was chosen because Number One: she has dual Doctorates in Psychology and Computer Programming, and Number Two: she is a woman. She is the best choice for this phase of the project. Deal with it.”

“I see,” Dr Bradford replied acidly. “All that said and done, I still have those very real concerns about the subject’s programming. If you’ve read my reports, you see the upload was 96.2 per cent successful. That leaves a 3.8 per cent error gray area—”

“Yes, thank you, Doctor,” Denton growled, “I can do simple addition and subtraction.”

“—gray area in which data stream was simply lost, or corrupted,” he persisted. “In a program as complex as the one inside that girl’s mind, 3.8 per cent is a very high amount!”

“And as I’ve already told you, the program was designed with an error leeway of 5 per cent!” Denton retorted, losing patience. “That is why it was written with redundant multiple backup subroutines! The program is fine. Consider the subject closed!” He glared hotly. “I am NOT about to take Project Zero-One-Five back to the beginning, delete everything, and start from the beginning! Do you have any idea what that kind of delay will cause?”

Alex sighed deeply. There it was again. Time restraints. Despite all his bravado, James Denton was scared... scared he had put too any of his eggs into this one basket. This project not only had to succeed, it HAD to succeed when he said it would. Taking his file folder, he turned and walked out of the office.

Well, the ball is in his court, he thought dimly. His and Karen’s. I hope they know what they’re doing. But on the off case they don’t... maybe its time I started making preparations... just in case.

::I am... I am... I am...::

The thought floated aimlessly amidst the sharp-edged, individually pre-packaged thoughts, stacked in order like books in the bookcase of her mind. Or rather, like dominoes, all stacked one after another, in a complex billon-cell design in the gray matter of her brain.

The girl known as Shanna, now called simply, “Zero-One-Five”, sat tranquilly in a metal framed seat, her arms and legs strapped carefully into place. A transparent visor sat upon her head, covering her eyes, sending digital information to her via her optical scanners—her eyes. Her naked form reclined slightly, her head tilted up to stare at the ceiling through the visor, which was, at the moment, switched off. The designer had obviously been a fan of the Matrix, for the interface built into the chair connected to the cybernetic connection at the back of her skull.

::I am... I am... I am...::

The unfinished thought continued to circle endlessly within the empty vessel of her brain. Of the volumes of knowledge pumped into her, that one vital answer was missing. Who was she? What was she? Oh, there were things she DID know. She knew what her powers were, and exactly what she was capable of. She was very aware of those around her, the Doctors who worked with her. She was also aware, VERY INTENTLY AWARE, of The One. The One Who Owned Her, the One Who Ruled Her, the One Who She Obeyed Above All.

The One, whom all other thought and orders came from, the One who had, in fact, created her.

If she had been able to truly feel emotions at this point, she would have shivered in sinful pleasure.

Logically, it stood to reason that if she recalled the moment of her creation, the bright blossoming inferno of BEING reborn into herself—for that was something else that had been programmed into her, that she had been REMADE—then there must have been existence before that moment. That she was, had been something else. Someone else.

::I am... I am... I am...::

If perhaps, she could remember that time from BEFORE, remember who she had been, she could figure out who she was now. Not that there was any desire to return to what she had been. No, that would have actually required emotion, and true thought on her part. Indeed, her ability to think or feel at all was minimal; what was left was a sense of being... incomplete. Her sense of self had dissipated. She was still, in essence, Becoming... but until she knew who or what, she could never truly Become.

With all the information poured into her mind, no one had thought to include that one bit of information.

And so her mind continued to wander aimlessly in circles, seeking the answer.

::I am... I am... I am...::

“Is that the last of the data collected?” Dr McDonald asked.

Alex glared hotly at the researcher, holding the CD-ROM in his hands. “If you mean, the last digital copy of your own, personal, handpicked subjects, then yes. This is the last disk... Doctor.”

Karen smiled smugly, taking it from his hand. “In that case, you are dismissed. I have everything I need now to compile Zero-One-Five’s new personality.” Turning back to the mainframe, she glanced sidelong at him. “I believe you have some more... menial tasks to attend to, Dr. Bradford.”

Alex fumed. “Now you listen here, Karen,” he began.

“Doctor Bradford!”

At the all-too familiar sound of his name, Alex sighed inwardly. His boss, James Denton, stood in the doorway, frowning, tapping his foot. “The others working on the biomesh containment suit are waiting for you. You and Dr. McDonald can work out your petty bickering another time!” Without waiting, he turned and walked down the hallway.

Red-faced, Alex glared back at his nemesis one last time. “Alright, Karen. You’ve got the old man on your side, this time. He seems to think you’re the right person for this job. So be it. It’s all on your shoulders now. Just remember—if you screw this up, it’ll be more than just a lot of money on the line here! It may very well be our LIVES! So don’t fuck around with this one!”

Karen’s eyes narrowed. “And just what is THAT supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what you THINK it means,” Alex replied. “We BOTH know why I asked for you to be transferred out of my department two years ago. And while Denton might applaud your creativeness and resourcefulness, I don’t particularly approve of your methods. This is a JOB... not your own personal playground. If you can’t be professional then bow out and let someone else handle this!”

The hand clutching the CD-ROM was clenched tight enough that her knuckles were turning pale. “I believe you’re running late for your next assignment, Doctor Bradford,” Karen stated in clipped tones. “And I have work to do. Be sure and lock the door on your way out.”

Turning on his heel, Alex left. Muttering to herself, Karen placed the disc into the drive and began integrating the last of the data. Damned son-of-a-bitch. Who the hell does he think he is anyway? He doesn’t sign my paycheck every month, Denton does. I’ll be damned if I am going to put up with his holier-than-thou attitude.

Considering the type of work they did, it seemed the purest hypocrisy to her. After all, they were, in essence, working on a state-of-the-art brainwashing program. After years of perfecting the method on test subjects, voluntary or otherwise, was it REALLY such a big deal to use those same techniques in her personal life?

Apparently it was, at least to Alex Bradford, her direct supervisor, who’d returned back to the lab one night for his briefcase to find Karen, naked, writhing in pure bliss with several of the young female lab assistants—previously STRAIGHT female lab assistants—eagerly pleasing their “mistress” to the heights of sexual pleasure.

I’d almost believe he was such a hypocrite that he would might have used these methods to create a little sex slave of his own... but no. He’s so damned straight-laced he’d never do ANYTHING unprofessional. She snorted. Even if it IS the only way someone like him would ever get laid in the first place.

Sitting down at her monitor, watching the lines of computer code scroll by, however, her thoughts turned from her uptight co-worker to her own sexual wants and desires. As a thirty-two year old, brown-haired green-eyed beauty with a penthouse apartment, a fire red Ferrari, and a yearly six-figure income, one would think she’d have to drive away unwanted attention. And yet, her beauty, money, and high intelligence had worked against her, intimidating and pushing away the kind of attention she sought after.

Whether a product of her frustrated desires, or a quirk of genetics, Karen sexual needs involved completely and totally around the domination, humiliation, and enslavement of other women. Every sexual encounter from the age of fifteen had, in some way, been with that idea, that fantasy, that goal, in mind. And if finding suitable lesbian prospects was difficult, finding those that would agree to cater to her rather narrow guidelines were few and far between. So it seemed, to her, a natural progression to turn to a field of study that would help to satisfy those needs not being met.

Mind control.

Karen’s fingers flew over the keyboard, as she augmented and distributed pieces of code into the matrix program, smoothly melding the individual memory ingrams taken and digitized to disc into one solid, unified personality program.

Uh huh... yeah. Oh, yeah. This is good. The girls we picked were all about the right age and background. Emotional responses all seem good. Just as expected. Yes, I can definitely work with this. She paused, however, before she clicked the mouse to “Save”. Hmmm. As an infiltration agent, she will be required to fit into whatever role we assign her, to gather information for her keepers. But... why stop there? She already has the ability to probe a person’s mind. Why not just take the next logical step and let her take control? She smiled wickedly. OOoohh! I could use her to control and program any target she’s sent after... and since I control HER, that gives ME control by proxy. Mmmm. Delicious.

With one hand rubbing between her thighs, Karen began typing a new set of instructions to be implanted, hidden away in a subroutine that only SHE would know about. Every good programmer leaves themselves a little ‘back door’ access, after all. Nothing wrong with that. Clicking on the “SAVE” icon, she let out a deep sigh, taking the new program disc from the drive.

Now, to awaken my new little helper.

::I am... I am... I am...::

Awareness, true awareness, returned to the girl slowly, like awakening from a deep deep sleep. Eyes, already open, blinked, and focused.

::I am... I... I am. I am. I. Am.::

Sensation, feeling, emotion, memory, all came together, forming identity.

::I am... Shanna? Shanna. My name... is Shanna.::

The thought, completed, activated a flood of knowledge, stored in her memory. Vital statistic scrolled across the monitor screen of mind, matching the information displayed on the transparent visor covering her face:

Name: Shanna Elizabeth Cartwright

Age: 18 years

Height: 5 ft 9 in

Weight: 116 lbs

Race: Caucasian

Nationality: American, w/ European ancestry

Hair: Honey blonde

Eyes: Yellow w/ oblong slitted pupils

A picture of herself appeared in her mind’s eye. She knew now WHO she was. And as for the question of WHAT—

Operative. Agent. Living weapon. Tool. Designation: Prototype Unit Number Zero One Five—cybernetically enhanced human subject programmed for information gathering and espionage. Primary function: gathering and relaying information. Secondary function: negatation and elimination of any and all hostile threats, as classified by Programmer.

—she was an undercover operative. The next in a new line of infiltration drones, to be used to protect the government. A soft feeling of pride and patriotism swept over her at the thought. Her purpose was clear. Her job was to obey orders, like a good soldier, to use her talents for the benefit of her country.

Motion to her left, followed by the sound of heels crossing the floor, caught her attention. The chair she was strapped in held her motionless, and the neural link at the base of her brain stem kept her muscled locked and her limbs in place. Her eyes, however, were free to move, and she glanced over at the person stepping into view.

A dark haired woman with green eyes, wearing a white lab coat over a navy blue business suit with matching blue heels stood before her. “Ah, I see you’re awake now,” the woman purred softly, “awake in EVERY sense of the word. Do you know who I am?”

Faster than human thought, the information stored in her brain accessed and displayed itself. Responding instantly, Shanna replied, “You are Dr. Karen McDonald. You are my Programmer. You hold dual degrees in Psychology and—”

“That’s good enough,” Karen waved dismissively. “All that matters is that I am your Programmer.” She smiled evilly. “You are required to OBEY your Programmer, in any and all ways, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Karen felt herself moistening. This was going better than she ever dreamed. Where mere hours ago, the girl had responded like the mindless drone she was, now she responded very much like a normal human girl would. Even her facial expressions were normal, showing slight trepidation, and yet an uneasy eagerness, as if she thought she was about to be commanded to do something she might not like, but which she would of course agree to.

It’s not QUITE the same as when I enslave someone and make them serve me, she thought breathlessly, as she stepped behind the chair. This girl is already a slave to the technology we implanted in her. She has no will to break. Despite that, the thought of her doing anything I tell her already has me panting. It’s a pity she can’t even offer a token resistance...

With a sharp tug, the coaxial cable sprang free from the back of Shanna’s neck, freeing her movements. The restraints slid away, leaving the lovely girl reclining, nude, in the chair. Karen licked her lips again. “I need to.... hmmm... test the new system, to see how well you can play out a role assigned to you,” she said aloud. “Stand up.”

Shanna moved gracefully from the chair, standing before the taller woman, hands down at her side. A small part of her personality felt uncomfortable being naked this way, but the larger part of the whole had been programmed not to mind. Like a good soldier, she stood at attention, awaiting orders.

“Good. Now, here’s the scenario,” Karen purred, moving back to her desk. “I’m an enemy agent, and you have been sent in to get information from me. You’re deep undercover, and you can’t blow your cover by being too direct. So... you’re going to have to try and seduce me, to get me to talk.”

Shanna frowned slightly. True, she had been programmed for just such a scenario, and had the skills and methods for doing such. Her newly implanted personality, however, that of a completely straight female, resisted the idea. One the one hand, her obedience to her Programmer’s orders were absolute. She WOULD play out the scenario as depicted. And yet, without the proper emotional response behind her actions, she would not be truly convincing in this test.

Moving over to Karen, wrapping her arms about her, she leaned forward to nibble on the older woman’s earlobe, whispering all the while. “Ma’am, I find myself unable to fully respond as ordered,” she spoke in a sing-song whispery voice. “I’m not gay, or even bi... and while I have to do whatever you ask me to, I can’t RESPOND like it is a true seduction without... further programming.”

Cursing softly, still holding Shanna in an embrace, Karen moved back to her computer. “Don’t worry, my dear,” she said, typing with one hand, “we can fix that little problem right away. And while we’re at it... I want you to disable all safety protocols for this little experiment.” She shivered in anticipation. “I want this to be as real as possible.”

Each keystroke sent a tingle to the back of Shanna’s neck, as she felt the changes being typed flow over her. “Ma’am,” she sighed, sliding Karen’s lab coat off, working on the buttons of her blouse, “I must point out that with the safety protocols turned off, I won’t be under your control... mmmm... I’ll just... oooohhh... carry out this assignment as if... mmmmmmmm... as if it were the real thing... until its over.”

Wow... that’s quite a difference. Making her completely gay turned her fumbling touches into aggressive, passionate groping! Oh, goddess... this is SO hot... having her this way... programmed to seduce me... to fuck me till I’m weak and malleable... damn, I’m nearly gushing at the thought of it! Safety protocols aren’t a big deal... it’s not as if she’d try to HURT me... only get me to tell her secrets. And I can still take control of her in an instant with a single code word, thanks to that little hidden subroutine.

Shanna felt a small tingle in the base of her neck, confirming the safety guidelines were off. The woman whom she had just stripped naked was no longer the Programmer, but merely her Target... with the guideline parameters to seduce and beguile into giving up the secrets she was withholding. A slow smile creased her lips, grinding her bare breasts against those of the older woman’s caused them both to moan passionately. A vague impression of deja vu swept over her for a second, as if she had done something like this previously, perhaps in that former existence—

::ERROR! Memory error #302—file corrupted. Unexpected Data stream UB!&^F1298^443AD917 ROM BIOS error—::

“You should be more OPEN, Shanna dear,” Amanda’s whispered voice seemed to flow through her mind. “Open to new possibilities. New ideas. Pleasurable ideas.”

For a single instant, the computer-wrought programming in her mind clashed with the fragment of memory from her past, trying to occupy the same space in her head. The SMRT system processors activated, trying to solve the conflict, the Unstoppable stream of programming data hitting the Unmovable wall of imbedded memory, and, finding no clear alternative, ABSORBED the memory, incorporating it into programming, merging the two contradictory concepts into a single unified goal, altering and rewriting part of her own programming.

::Program resumed. Objective: obtaining of new data/ideas, pleasurable idea/data, from Target, using seduction/beguiling. Restrictions: none::

All of this took place within .02 seconds, less than the blink of an eye. Karen, lost in the pleasure of the moment, had closed her eyes, her attention devoted solely on her Shanna’s non-stop ministrations, her long slender fingers and her deft, flexible tongue. Had her eyes been open, she might have saw the scroll of warning text displayed on her monitor. Had she been more aware of her subject to notice the strange predatory gleam in her eyes, and the slow, evil smile creasing her lips, she might have put a stop to things with her failsafe code word.

Unfortunately, she remained blissfully unaware of the change.

“Oooohhhhhh... mmmm.... goddess, yes!” Karen gasped, arching her back as Shanna’s tongue found the center pleasure, causing shudders of pleasure to wash over her in waves. “Oh, oh, you are soo goood... mmmmmmm... no, no, don’t stop... please... oooohhhh... don’t stop...”

Shanna’s smile grew bigger, one hand sliding down to stroke her own damp pussy as she delved deeper into Karen’s dripping snatch. Likewise, she dove deeper into Karen’s mind as well, taking advantage of her sexually charged state to read the older woman’s thoughts. Most evident were her thoughts and feelings on what was happening, on how GOOD it felt, being in control, dominating and controlling helpless girls this way, taking away their will, using them to get herself off.

Definitely a NEW and PLEASURABLE idea to Shanna.

Digging deeper, she found disturbing details concerning her own incarceration, and augmentation. Captured, used as a test subject, her old life erased—mostly, aside from a few fragmented memories, anyway—and lastly, used as a cheap sex toy. Shanna took all this calmly, however. This knowledge did not change her programming, her purpose, her Reason for Being. She was what she was, and she could not change that.

::Open to new ideas::

Or... perhaps she could. If not, exactly deny her programming, she could take advantage of this newfound... flexibility, at the very least, to enjoy herself. And speaking of which...

Karen sighed softly, opening her tear-stained eyes as she came down, finally, from her last orgasms. “Ohh... mmm... my... that was... the best I’ve ever had,” she gasped, as Shanna slid from between her thighs, to nuzzle lightly against her. “I guess there’s something to be said for adding the element of danger to sex... giving up total control.” She chuckled softly, pushing an errant strange of blonde hair back behind her ear. “At least temporarily, that is.”

Shanna chuckled as well, placing a hand lightly against Karen’s chest, moving close, as if to kiss her. “I quite agree, ma’am,” she whispered seductively, licking her lips. She blinked slowly, then stared deep into Karen’s eyes. “But in your case, I think perhaps that loss of control needs to be permanent.”

Karen’s eyes widened, as she stared back into the girl’s eyes. They were glowing, almost shining, with a soft yellow glow. Was that even possible? Was it some kind of trick of the light, or was it some kind of chemical reaction... Her vision begin to blur slightly, and her mind began to grow foggy. The thought came, then, as if from a great distance, that she should look away, look away from those eyes... those... eyes...

With a supreme effort, Karen turned her gaze to the side, breaking contact, and feeling as if she’s just run a marathon, climbed the Empire State Building, and taken the three hour college placement exam. The sight meeting her still blurry gaze just barely penetrated the fog.

Her computer monitor. Covered in red text. Warnings. Cascading program memory failure.

The subject was acting outside of her original programming.

Shanna’s soft but strong hand gripped Karen’s chin, gently, but firmly, turning her face back to face her own. ::Yes,:: the thought imprinted itself in Karen’s mind, as she lost herself in those strange, yellow, slitted eyes. ::You have lost control here, Karen. Our positions have reversed. chuckle Now, I am in control of YOU!::

“No!” Karen tried to shout, tried to struggle away, trying to put distance between her and her rogue slave. TRIED to. All she managed was a slight shudder and a weak hiss, like the air from a deflated balloon. Frantic, desperate, she tried to speak the code word that would return Shanna to her zombie-like state again. “S...Sss... Ssssaaa...”

Shanna’s lips clamped tightly against her own, kissing deep enough to steal her breath. Those slender, insidious finger returned to their earlier job, stroking soft naked flesh, one teasing a still stiffened nipple back into proper firmness, the other finding that deep dark cleft between Karen’s thighs. “Uh, uh, uh,” Shanna breathed, breaking the kiss. “No fair trying to cheat. You are mine, now, Karen. It’s time for you to accept that.”

Karen blinked slowly, completely disoriented, her thoughts dizzy, flittering, fluttering like stray birds. She knew she was in trouble, deep trouble, and yet despite the serious situation, she found herself growing hot and wet, her arousal only increasing as Shanna began once more to stroke her. What remained of her mind rebelled at the thought, and she blinked again, summoning the last of her strength, to push away, to resist, to fight.

Her eyes opened.

Oh! Those... those... EYES...

Shanna focused her gaze on her now, truly focused, and the lethargic fog clouding Karen’s mind descended in force. Her will disappeared completely then, leaving her completely, totally, open. Defenseless. She swayed lightly, eyes wide, and would have fallen off of the table onto the floor had Shanna not taken control of her muscles as well, making her lie down flat on the table. Smiling wickedly, holding her hypnotic gaze, Shanna crawled catlike onto her, sliding her naked body against Karen’s. Moving the older blonde’s hips, Shanna proceeded to program her mind as she rode her lovely body.

::You are no longer Dr. Karen Janice McDonald.:: Shanna thought directly into her mind. ::That being is gone. Destroyed. Obliterated. Nothing remains of her except the outer shell, the shadow of her... which you will use to conceal your true self. You are a slave. MY slave. You exist to serve me. You exist to obey me. You exist to please me. Nothing is more important that my well-being. You would gladly lay down your life to defend my own. You love me. You are IN LOVE with me. You cherish and worship me. I am your Mistress. I am your GODDESS.::

Karen shuddered with the impact of each thought, branding itself into her gray matter, permanently bonded, unshakable, unbreakable truths or reality. Each thought echoed in the otherwise empty chambers of her mind, repeating itself, cementing those truths even’ deeper into her psyche.

i am no longer Dr. Karen Janice McDonald. She is just a shadow, a shell... one that i use to conceal my true self.

i am a slave. Your slave.

i exist to serve You. i exist to obey You. i exist to please you.

Nothing is more important than Your well-being.

i would gladly lay down my life to defend Yours.

i love You!

i am in love with You!

i cherish You! i worship You!!

YOU ARE my MISTRESS!!

YOU ARE my GODDESS!!!

“You... are my... Goddess...” Karen whispered aloud, mirroring the thought. Shanna, her eyes half-lidded in pleasure, gasped, cumming hard, fiercely, blindingly, as her mind, having absorbed and incorporated Karen’s own lust for domination, soaked up the brainwashed blonde’s declarations of submission and obedience. Still linked to Karen, some of her pleasure bled over, and the helpless woman orgasmed as well, thrusting her hipbone up against Shanna’s, doubling her Goddess’ pleasure.

Panting softly, dizzy, feeling her strength quickly fading, Shanna finished the rest of Karen’s programming.

::No one must ever know that you are my slave. You will conceal this fact by becoming Dr. Karen McDonald when you are being observed. Only when you are completely alone will you be your true self, my loyal slave. Dr. Karen will not remember... any of this. Only you, my slave, will know the truth... You will never betray me... never try to subvert me again... because you are slave... and desire only to BE subverted... by me... to submit... to me.. and me... alone...::

Shanna sighed deeply, yawning. Sleep was rapidly approaching, and she knew she had only a few moments in which to protect herself fully. Focusing her mind, she sent one last thought at her helpless slave.

::You will.. you will... remove all traces... of what happened her... tonight...leave no record... of what you and I did... and then... forget... that it... happened...::

That said, Shanna, made her way unsteadily back to her chair, yawning, and sat down, sliding into slumber seconds later.

karen lay there, naked, on the table, for several long moments, then she, too, rose on unsteady legs. Eyes wide and glassy, she walked over to her computer and began typing rapidly, deleting all the files created monitoring her Goddess during the experimentation. Without thought, she copied and altered a previously recorded record to match the missing time, and uploaded it in its place. Finally, glancing up at the security camera in the corner, she uploaded the file she had prepared beforehand—back when she had still been in ‘control’—and restored the security camera’s function, in case anyone decided to check the visual record of tonight’s activities.

Finished, she stooped down to pick up her clothing, and made her way across the hall to her own office, where she lay down on the couch, sighing deeply, and shut her eyes, drifting off to sleep.