The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Time Manipulation Mind Control

by mypenname3000

Chapter 18: Cheerleader Slave’s Naughty Choice

Justin Sampson

The rings thrummed as I passed between them. I hurtled head-first towards the machine. I thrust my arms out before me. My skin crawled. My toes tingled. I felt the next arm spinning down at me, trailing a wake of particles that made my entire body feel like it wanted to fly apart.

I hit a metal shelf around the base of the machine, hovering with the arms.

I grunted, rolled, and crashed into the base of the machine. Groaning, I sat up. The thrumming rumbled around me. I stood, surrounded by the flashing blue. The red button was before me, waiting to be hit. It looked so innocuous. The fate of universes contained in it. My own reflection peered back at me in the stainless steel casing, my hair disheveled, my eyes wide. The arms whirled behind me. Figures watched.

Sam. Aurora. Krystal. Paris.

I thought of my mom. My other sex slaves. The world.

I hit the button.

My universe became white.

* * *

Crystal Sampson

I trembled as I stood surrounded by the watchful gaze of a group of guys. They were slaves of this universe’s version of my brother, Justin. It was such a weird reality. The watching guys glowered over me, especially the bulky Chris. In my world, Chris was my college’s star quarterback. He was dating my sex slave Aurora before I liberated her and showed her that guys were terrible.

I swallowed. This reality was so bizarre. Justin’s guys didn’t try to hurt me at all. Here they treated me like I was—

—a human being and...

I gasped in shock. I was lying on my back. I was staring up not at the gymnasium’s ceiling, but the lower ceiling of one of the college’s hallway. The guys were all gone. None of them stood over. Ji-Yun squeaked out in fright beside me as I bolted upright. My gaze shot around, staring at the school hallway by the second-floor stairs.

I screamed out in orgasmic rapture.

A powerful, shuddering rapture slammed through my body. I bucked and heaved, my pussy convulsing. Juices squirted out of me as I had the most intense orgasm of my life. Ecstasy slammed into my mind. My thoughts stopped working.

In the blink of an eye, the orgasm passed. It had lasted only a fraction of a second.

Panting, I shuddered on the floor. At the same moment, words echoed in my mind. It was like Justin was talking to me. He was saying things about making my world better. About not mistreating boys just because my father raped me. To remember that the Justin from my reality and my mother were just as scared as I was. Were just as helpless to stop my father from abusing me.

I shuddered, my head shaking. The words resounded through my mind. They were spoken with such passion.

Had I done the wrong thing? I had this amazing ability, this charge that built and built up inside of me that I could then unleash. I could cry out commands that made everyone who heard me have to obey. I was changing the world, making it into something amazing. A world where women didn’t have to fear men.

I achieved that by... abusing men.

I was victimizing them the same way my father had victimized me. I squeezed my thighs together, my blood still burning from that strange orgasm.

“My Queen!” the familiar voice of Aurora shouted.

I shook my head, still struggling to understand what just happened. I looked over my shoulder to see a group of naked girls rushing at me. It was the group I left behind to batter down the door and capture Justin.

They were my naked girls. How had I returned to my universe?

“My Queen!” a girl gasped as they rushed at me. Others gasped, too.

“My Queen!”

” My Queen, you just magically appeared!”

“Where did you come from, my Queen!”

“Those scary men with the guns are gone! You banished them!”

“My Queen, are we back home?” Ji-Yun asked me, staring at me as she sat up.

“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. The memories of that other reality wouldn’t leave me. The image of my doppelganger, the Crystal who spelled her name with the K, was stuck in my mind. She was so much like me, and yet she loved her brother. A brother who didn’t abuse me when he could. Who didn’t harm me.

He just... captured me to protect himself.

He left me surrounded with a bunch of guys, and not a single one of them even tried to rape me.

A sudden flood of sour guilt washed through me. This powerful wave of shameful pain. From downstairs, I could hear the moans of girls milking guys’ cocks dry of all their filthy lust. But were boys’ desires filthy just because I didn’t enjoy them?

Or because my father had violated me.

I stared at Ji-Yun, this horror filling me. “What have I done here?” I asked her. “What have I made with my powers?”

“Paradise,” Ji-Yun said. “That’s what you wanted, right, my Queen?”


I made a paradise where I’d condemned half the people in the world into suffering. My followers were fighting outside the campus, spreading my power. What sort of monster was I? The tears fell down my cheeks. I hugged my knees to my chest. My slaves surrounded me, hugging me. They whimpered, frightened. I made them all love me. I twisted their desires until they despise the boys they used to lust after.

Was I any better than my father?

“I... I...” I could make this right. “I need to see my brother and my mother. There are going to be changes in how we do things.”

* * *

Justin Sampson

A rhythmic beeping sound pierced through the groggy haze. The smothering darkness hugged me. I didn’t know who I was. What I was? I was just an impulse rising towards that sound. It beeped louder and louder, calling me towards it. The world lightened. It was subtle, a shifting of gray tones. It bled from black to dark smoke to a lighter ash, drifting towards a pure whiteness.

My eyes opened.

“Oh, good, you’re coming awake,” a woman said. She wore pink hospital scrubs, her brown hair bobbed short. She had a motherly plumpness about her. “How are you feeling, Justin?”

“Justin?” I croaked. My mouth felt so dry. That was my name. Justin. I started to have flashes of my life. I was a college student. I lived at home with my abusive father and shrinking mother. I had no friends at school save for Sam, and I wasn’t sure why that smart, nerdy girl even tolerated me.

Flashes of Sam’s naked body danced in my mind, her small breasts quivering as she was... Riding my cock?

I blinked, my mind so fuzzy. Where had that come from? A fantasy? I’d never spanked it to Sam. She was the only girl at my college I hadn’t masturbated to... She was cute. Wonderful. My heart beat faster just thinking about her. A strange ache filled me. I was... worried about her.

“How are you feeling?” The nurse asked. “Groggy? Disoriented?”

“Yeah,” I groaned, my mind thick with flashes of a naked Sam. She held my hand. She hugged me. Kissed me. Whispered hot words in my ear. “Where am I?”

“Good Sam Hospital,” the nurse said.

“What?” I blinked. “This isn’t the NSA facility at Handford?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why I thought I’d be there. Handford was the nuclear reactor over in Eastern Washington. That was hours away from here.

“Hmm, there’s the disorientation. There was a massive gas leak around your school. It’s caused all sorts of havoc. Memory loss, hallucinations, strange behavior.”

“Gas?” I croaked.

She nodded her head. “Lot of cops got caught up in it, too. It was pretty wild. Your college is the epicenter, but it spilled out into the neighborhood.” She peered over me while writing on a chart. “What is the last thing you remember clearly?”

I frowned, struggling to parse through my confused and blurry memories. There was a lot about... Sex. I had memories of a locker room full of girls writhing together, two of them sucking on my dick while a third ground her cunt against my thigh. Then I had flashes of receiving a titty fuck from my favorite professor, the red-headed Miss Daisy, while another student, a girl, ate her out. That blurred into another fragmented memory of two other women sucking on my dick, one a green-eyed blonde and...

Was the other my mother?

I came on their faces. They lick each other clean. How could that have happened?

“Because I’ll always be your sex slave, Master. Always” echoed through my mind. Who was this green-eyed girl? Her face was almost indistinct, hazy in my thoughts.

There was a Black girl who brought her mother to me to fuck. Why would she do that?

I had memories the entire gymnasium full of girls writhing in lesbian passion, licking each other. It was a strange, though hot, fragment.

What was up with my memories?

Had all my perverted fantasies somehow spilled into my groggy mind, mixing up what was real with what I jerked off to at night? What did this gas do to me?

Then I hit on one solid memory. I was walking to my college, my little sister, Krystal, ahead of me. She was holding hands with her friend Ji-Yun, and I was wondering if they were lesbian lovers while wanting to fuck them both. It would be hot if Krystal and Ji-Yun were gay and...

Flashes of Ji-Yun licking my little sister’s pussy clean of... cum. My cum?

I had another flash of my little sister sitting on a busty woman’s face. Krystal ground her cunt on the woman. There’s something odd about the scene, like the woman’s tits weren’t moving the way they should as my sister energetically gyrated. It was like the busty woman was...

“Did I freeze time?” I asked aloud.

“Oh, yes, that’s a very common group hallucination that seems to have affected a lot of you,” said the nurse. “More than a few of you thought you could pause time and then mind-control people.” She gave a laugh like it was the silliest thing in the world. “There was this one guy, Vince, who claimed he turned every guy in your school gay.” The nurse leaned over. “Did he turn you gay, Justin?”

I knew Vince. He was gay. But from the way my dick was hard from those scattered memories of all those girls having sex with me and each other, I knew I wasn’t. I shook my head.

“So, what do you remember clearly?” she asked.

“I was walking to class,” I said. “It was Tuesday, right? Is it still Tuesday?”

“Oh, no, it’s Thursday. The gas attack happens sometime around 8 AM at your school on Tuesday. It was very subtle at first. Didn’t really hit its peak efficacy until yesterday. You’ve all been out of it for over twenty-four hours.”

I shook my head. I had all these pieces just floating around in the murk of my foggy memory. Why would Paris beg to be my sex slave? The rich bitch hated me. Then there was a flash of Sam impaling her pussy down my cock while my hands were chained above my head.

“What were we all doing while we hallucinated?” I asked. My cheeks were warm. “I have some... wild flashes.”

“Oh, there may been some... inappropriate activities. You know, all those youthful hormones bursting, and you all being high from the gas.”

So maybe the sex happened? Had I lost my virginity yesterday and didn’t remember it? And to which girl did I lose it? There were so many and...

Did I fuck my mother? My sister?

My dick throbbed hard without thought. And then my mom peeked in, also in a hospital gown, her brown hair spilling about her face. She had a happy smile on her lips. I didn’t remember seeing her looking even mildly pleased in years. Not since dad “hurt his back” and went on disability. That was when he started drinking and being abusive. She kept trying to please him, keeping herself in shape, trying to be sexually adventurous.

I’d hear her degrading herself from their bedroom to make him happy.

It never was enough.

Maybe he resented her for not getting fat and ugly. He was always yelling at her, and I was always too weak to do anything about it. I was eighteen, a man, and I still was scared of him and...

I didn’t feel scared of him now. There were other flashes in my mind, yelling at him. Ordering him to take care of her and not hurt her.

“Justin...” my dad’s voice echoed through my mind. “I... I need you to fuck your mother. She needs a real man to screw her. That’s not me. I’m too pathetic. I’m not good enough for her. She needs your cock, son.”

My dick swelled even harder.

“Oh, you’re awake, honey,” Mom said, her breasts swayed beneath her hospital gown. It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nothing supported her large, pillowy mounds. They jiggled as she rushed to my bed. She embraced me tight to her tits. I sank into them, hugging her back, loving the feel of her breasts separated by the thin cotton.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “Mommy’s big, strong son is going to be okay.”

“I know, Justin!” my mom moaned, the memory bursting through my mind. “Just give it to me. Give me your cum! I want to feel you squirting into me! Oh, god, it’s too much. I’m going to... Yes!” She was kneeling on all fours as she said it, and I was... I was fucking her from behind.

I lifted my head as the memories faded, catching my mom’s eyes. Hers dazzled with something shiny. Then her cheeks blushed and she looked away.

“Well, Mrs. Sampson, your entire family should be fine to be discharged.”

“You got caught up in the gas, too, Mom?” I asked.

Her cheeks went scarlet. Her eyes flicked down to my crotch before they darted away. “Yes, I was, but I don’t remember anything that happened.” She shifted. “Your father and Krystal are already awake. You are the one that seemed to be out of it the most.”

“Yes, you are one of the worst exposed, Justin,” said the nurse. “I imagine you have some of the strongest hallucinations.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Well, your clothes are over there in a drawer,” said the nurse, giving me a smile. “Once you’re dressed, we can get you and your family discharged. You can go home.”

I nodded my head. Everything felt so surreal.

There was this bright, blue light flashing in my mind. I remembered saying, “Fuck it, tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day, and we’re all going to see it!”

I felt like I did something momentous, something heroic, but couldn’t remember what I’d done.

After the nurse left, I dressed slowly, struggling to adjust. I’d lost two whole days. In its place were just flashes of the wildest, kinky fantasies. But none of my memories were complete. I had no context why I was watching Paris masturbate on my phone while getting a titty fuck from a girl in my gym class named Tracy. Or why I had this eager itch to spank the green-eyed girl’s ass. Why was her face so indistinct? Some of the others were crystal clear, but... not hers.

I didn’t figure it out by the time I was clothed in jeans and a t-shirt.

I left my hospital room and found my family gathering by the nurses’ station. I headed down the hallway to them. My little sister, Krystal, glanced at me, her black hair gathered in her usual pigtails. She was wearing a skirt and blouse, looking as petite and cute as always. She gave me a weird look, then her cheeks went scarlet.

Fragments of another disjointed memory flared through my mind. It was of my little sister kneeling before another girl. No, she was kneeling before herself. Krystal was eating out a duplicate of herself. An identical twin. Then I was fucking my sister from behind as she did it.

I was pounding Krystal while she ate out Crystal.

I shook my head, my dick throbbing as a strange memory only confirm that these had to be hallucinations. Right? There couldn’t be another version of Krystal. I hadn’t gone to a parallel reality and kidnapped a messed-up version of my little sister that was into dominating boys.

Were had that dumb idea come from? It sounded like the plot to a bad science fiction novel.

“Hey, Justin,” my little sister said. She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

My dad glanced at me, swallowed. He rubbed a hand over his balding head. Then he looked away. Suddenly, I thought he was such a pathetic man. All the angry bluster I remembered from him seemed to have evaporated from him. Now he looked... deflated. Mom was standing straighter beside him, no longer crushed. She gave me such a warm smile as I came up, holding out her hand to me.

I took it, giving her a squeeze.

“Mom,” echoed through my mind, a warmth stiffening through me. “I just want you to know how much I love you. How sorry I am that I let Dad’s abuse go on for so long. He won’t ever hurt you again. You don’t ever have to be afraid of him. You’re not afraid of him. You know he can never hurt you again. You know that if he ever gets mad at you, he’ll instead bring you to me. And that will excite you.”

I had another flash of my mother sitting on the edge of a sink in my college’s restroom, her legs spread wide, staring at me with wanton hunger.

I felt so off balance.

We filled out the paperwork the nurses handed us, signing all the forms to let ourselves be discharged. There were other students from my college moving around us. They all looked as out of it as I felt... stunned. I saw Tracy, the girl I imagined giving me a titty fuck, and she shuddered. She looked like she was about to say something to me, but then she dragged her parents away, her cheeks scarlet.

Maybe she did give me a titty fuck and now was embarrassed about it.

God, I wish I could remember more.

“Justin?” a soft voice asked from behind me.

I turned around and spotted my friend Sam in a hospital gown. She stood in the doorway of her own room, her black hair falling loosely about her face. The tousled look gave her a sultry appearance. Her glasses only made her cuter, and more vulnerable, than I’d ever noticed. The gown clung to her body in a way that baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants she normally wore hadn’t. She had a nice figure beneath. Her breasts were small but firm.

Memories of seeing those breasts blossomed my mind.

My heart beat faster. My stomach writhed with excitement. As welter of emotion spilled through me. I found myself going to her, unable to resist taking her hand. Sam wasn’t a physical sort of person. She hated being touched.

Instead of pulling away, she gripped my hands tight.

“Justin, there are things that I haven’t... told you,” she said, her words strained. “Words I been too afraid of saying. But...”

Bits and pieces of happy memories of Sam bobbed through my thoughts. Maybe... maybe I didn’t need to be afraid. I swallowed, my mouth was so dry all of a sudden. “Sam, you want to go out to see a movie.” The words blurted out of me. “You know, a date.”

Her cheeks went crimson. I had the strangest flash of her impaling her pussy down my cock again. Only this time, I was certain she was giving me her virginity. She was doing it to save my life, a powerful act of love.

I clutched onto that as I leaned in. “Sam, I just... I feel the same. Maybe it is just the gas talking, but—”

Sam kissed me.

Her lips were hot. Her arms were tight around my neck. Her tongue plunged into my mouth as her body pressed against mine. I heard a gasp behind me that sounded like Krystal. Then I heard a gush of joy come from my mother. I didn’t care. My blood was screaming through my veins.

It was like I was kissing Sam for the first time, and I felt like we’d done this before. It felt so familiar. We’d expressed our love to each other over the last day. I clutched her to me, worshiping her lips, savored her against me.

She broke the kiss, leaving me panting. Her own against mine. “I want to be your lover, Justin. Your girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So, uh, I’ll pick you up. Tonight?

She nodded her head. “Tonight. I think I’m ready for our first date. Although...” She squirmed. “I think we may have already had coitus.” She blushed then, looking so girlish. “I mean, made love.”

“Yeah,” I said. Then I winced. “I think I might’ve done it with more than a few girls.”

“Yes,” she said calmly, not angry. “Me, as well. I particularly remember eating out Miss Daisy with you. Such a strange sensation. All these jumbled memories. No context to any of them.”

“Well, we’ll just have to build new memories.”

She smiled and nodded.

Then her father, a thin man, called for her. Sam broke away and headed into her hospital room, leaving me trembling. I turned around and found my little sister snickering. Mom had such a gushing smile on her face. Dad looked uncomfortable, shifting around, his beer gut thrusting against the front of his shirt.

“Well, oh, we should get home,” Dad said. “I have to clean the house.”

Krystal and I both blinked at that. Since when did dad do anything at home?

On the way out, I noticed Paris standing in the hallway. Flashes of her masturbating, begging to cum, echoed through my mind. The slender, rich girl glanced at me. Normally, she’d sneer at me. This time, she just blushed and looked away. Her dad, dressed in an expensive suit, put his arm around her shoulder and let her away.

Then I saw Chris and his two friends. I scowled at the three assholes who liked to bully me. Chris glanced at me, and then gave me a sheepish, almost apologetic smile. His friends shifted around him. The three of them broke apart, Lance, a tall Black guy, rushed to catch up with his girlfriend, Paris. Chris walked down another hallway, calling out, “Hey, anyone seen Aurora?”

That name me made me shudder. Aurora Pritchard... The bitch who led her two friends, Paris and Petra, in picking on me and sending their meathead boyfriends to threaten me. Aurora had green eyes and blonde hair. Such a beauty.

God, I would love to have fucked her during the craziness.

* * *

Salome “Sam” Shapiro

“We’ll be right outside, Salome,” my mother said. “Take your time getting dressed.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” I said. I hated when people use my real name. Why did my parents name me Salome? Only my Mother used to it any longer, everyone else calling me Sam.

That was a serviceable name.

“I’m not sure the hospital should be discharging her,” my father said. The stereotype was that the Jewish mother was the one that was overly concerned and protective could be wrong. “She was in that gas attack. They should run some more tests.”

“I am fine, Father,” I said. I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “I even have a date tonight.”

“Yes, with... Justin...” my father said, his voice thick with disdain.

My mother shook her head. “Relax, it’s good that she’s dating. You wanted her to socialize more.”

She drew my skinny father out of the room as I heard him say, “But dating that boy who almost got expelled for hacking the school—”

The door shut behind them.

I drifted over to the small dresser in my hospital room. It was cheaply made of plywood with a thin veneer of stained wood over it. I opened up the drawer, finding a familiar pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt inside. There was no bra; my breasts were so small, only A cups, I didn’t see the point of wearing the uncomfortable things.

“However,” I said to myself as I pulled out the pair of plain, white panties, “perhaps I should have some enticing lingerie to wear with the date tonight.”

The sudden urge to go shopping rushed through me. It was a new impulse. All these girlish feelings were bubbling through me, uncapped by my confession to Justin. Whatever had happened during the gas attack had changed me.

I shook my head, surprised that my emotions didn’t annoy me with their distracting urges.

Normally, I had to clamp down on my feelings for Justin, not wanting to be afflicted by the boil of my hormones. I had masturbated a few times but never thought the small rush of pleasure was worth the sticky mess between my thighs and the waste of time it took.

But now...

I had such strange memories of having sex. Little flashes of doing things. Justin and me making love in a dark room. Justin chained to a classroom wall. I impaled my pussy down his cock while someone hugged me from behind. I licked Miss Daisy’s pussy as Justin moaned in the background. Girls ate my pussy and asshole while calling me “Queen.”

“Explode on him and drain all that nasty lust from him,” whispered through my mind. The girls speaking had a Latina accent. Was that Petra? “It will make him docile. He’ll be a good boy-slave.”

I shook my head and grabbed my phone after drawing on my panties. I turned it on and scrolled through it and...

My phone had been scrubbed.

I could tell that someone had messed around with my data, hacking in and modifying things. I dug into the logs, forgetting that I was supposed to be getting dressed. There were strange signs all over the place. Histories erased. Some of the illegal modifications I made to my phone, jail-breaking it, had been removed. I opened up my social media accounts and saw that I hadn’t posted anything since Tuesday morning. I usually was involved in a number of groups on Facebook talking about science and technology. Next, I went to the forums that I browsed, places where I would talk about conspiracy theory stuff.

Those websites were down.

I contacted someone I trusted, Ipso_Custodes, and sent him a text. “Why is the forum down?”

The forum was located on the dark web. I needed to use the TOR network to access it. It wasn’t something normal people could find. People thought the dark web was Silk Road and other illegal activities, but there were plenty of programmers, hackers, and free speech people that had their own secret message boards to talk about things without people snooping on them.

Someone had gotten to one of those websites.

“If you don’t remember, good,” Ipso_Custodes message me. “You got mixed up in it. Just let it lie. They’re snooping all over the Internet. You’re too dangerous to be in contact with.”

I swallowed. “They” meant the government.

Undaunted, I dug deeper. My parents knocked on the hospital room door, but I ignored them. I had to figure this out. It itched at me. Then I found an archive of the forum post. It was on another website in the deep web I knew about. There was my user account, chatting with Ipso_Custodes and a few others yesterday. About...

Project KRONOS...

“You can stop time” echoed through my mind. “You are behind the anomalies with the atomic clocks.” Justin could manipulate time? Interesting.

My eyes flicked up from my phone as I pondered what was going, darting around as my mind struggled with my memories. My gaze landed on my IV bag that had been feeding me fluids while I was unconscious. There was a chemical name on there: Flunitrazepam. I didn’t recognize it.

I googled that name. My eyes widened when I saw the results.

* * *

Justin Sampson

The drive home was... a strain. I think my family and I were all feeling these little snatches of memories. The sexual encounters that I’d shared with my sister and my mother had happened. Krystal kept squirming beside me in the back seat, staring out the window like she didn’t want to look at me. Mom kept glancing behind me, this happy smile on her lips. Dad looked strangely cowed.

Was he remembering he’d dragged mom into the middle of my classroom and begged me to fuck her? That memory was getting clearer. I couldn’t remember what happened after that. Was it connected to the one of me fucking my mom in the college’s bathroom? Did that happen later?


When we reached home, Krystal raced into her bedroom and slammed shut her door. My dad shook his head, and then he began vacuuming, of all things. My mom glanced at him, then thanked him for helping out.

Dad, maybe sensing I was watching in shock, gave me a sheepish look and shrugged. “I even have a job interview tomorrow,” he told me. “My back... It’s been feeling better. The gas did something that fixed it, I guess.”

“Oh, cool, dad,” I said, off- balanced.

My mom gave him a hug and even kissed him on the cheek. It was surreal.

More than a little weirded out, I headed up to my room. The moment I entered and my gaze fell on my rumpled bed, I had flashes of fucking Mom on it. Just pounding her from behind doggy style while dad knelt on the ground and begged me like a pathetic cuckold. I shook my head, wondering if I was going to be beset by these memories forever.

I flopped down on my bed, lying on my back, and stared up at the ceiling. My last clear memory was walking to college while following after my little sister and her friend. I felt like a completely different person now than that horny pervert two days ago lusting after his sister and imagining her doing naughty things with Ji-Yun. I felt like I had done something momentous during the gas. Something profound.

There was this light. I risked something to get to that light. Gave up something. Something profound. My fingers flexed before me. The answers were just out of reach.

“Remember that,” echoed through my mind. The green-eyed girl said it was such sincerity. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Remember that this is what I wanted. To be a strong man’s sex slave. Even if it all goes back to normal, that won’t have changed. You can still claim me. You can still make me yours again. Because I’ll always be your sex slave, Master. Always.”

“I own this pussy,” I remembered growling. “It is mine to use. It’s my cum-dumpster. I’ll fuck you whenever I want. Nothing is going to change that, slave!”

I had found something with Sam, and it seemed like there was another girl that I had a different sort of relationship with. I couldn’t remember her face? Why was she so.... fuzzy. It was almost like I was... scared to remember who she was. She was perky and feisty and energetic. She loved me. Even better, she loved being my mind-controlled slut.

Mind control?

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and went on social media. I hadn’t posted anything on Facebook or Twitter since Tuesday morning. Two whole days of my life were missing. There was only one message from my friend, Eddie, asking if I was okay. He used to attend my college until I hacked into the school’s system and changed our grades. His parents transferred him to another school after that. I almost got expelled myself. Luckily for me, my dad didn’t care, and my mother was too busy trying to stay on his good side to punish me. They just let me do whatever.

“I survived,” I answered him on Messenger. “Even have a date with Sam.”

“So you need to pick me up at 5:25 PM precisely,” Sam said in my memory. “Then 8:01 PM shall arrive and we can experiment with your powers.” I blinked at that memory. Where had I gotten the idea that I had powers? I had this feeling that I could... stop time. That was crazy. Why would I have that power? What had happened during the gas? What sort of chemical had these effects on people?

“Oh, so you finally know that she had a crush on you?” answered my friend.

I blinked at that. My fingers replied, “Guess I’m just dense.”

I was about to Google what sort of gas could have made us all forget things and then have crazy, wild sex fantasies when I got a text from Sam. My heart beat faster. A strange nervousness spilled over me. It was my first text from my girlfriend.

A giddy rush surged through my veins. I had a girlfriend. This was all so different. I opened it.

The message was pure Sam.

“Justin, I have attached a picture of one of the chemicals that they were given me in my IV. It is Flunitrazepam.”

Not a bit of romance in her message. I smiled as I stared at the picture. Just as she said, there was the name of that chemical.

“And?” I texted her back.

“I had never heard of the chemical, so I googled it. It has another name that you have probably heard of. Rohypnol.”

I blinked at that. They my fingers typed, “Isn’t that where the name roofie comes from? The date rape drug?”

“Indeed,” Sam’s reply read. “It is illegal to use in the United States even for medical procedures. And, as you know, one of Rohypnol’s side effects is memory loss. Something which we all appear to be suffering from.”

My heart pounded faster. “Wait, are you saying that there really was an orgy and all that stuff. That I really had a sex slave. That I even was mind-controlling people?”

“Yes. You gained the ability to pause and manipulate time,” Sam answered, her words popping up at the bottom of chat screen. “At least according to what I’ve been able to piece together from Internet logs. The government missed some when they cleaned up our phones and browsing history. There was something called Project KRONOS.”

Memories slammed into my mind. They were these three guys, two who looked like plumbers and the third looking like a slick-haired FBI agent. The three were explaining all about this project. About stopping time. About the dangers of it. How they need me to turn off the machine.


There were these rotating bars swishing through my mind trailing blue light.

There was a red button I had to press.

“Fuck it, tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day, and we’re all going to see it!” echoed through my mind.

“I think I saved the world, Sam,” I typed. Hit send.

“I think you did as well,” Sam replied.

And then new memories flooded me. The green-eyed girl clutching to me, raining kisses on my face. She was scared she would never see me again. She looked up at me and... This time her face was clear.

I bolted upright. I had to go.

* * *

Aurora Pritchard

Everything felt so strange to me. I sat in my bedroom on my neatly made bed, the walls covered in various posters of hot guys. All the normal crushes: boy bands and hot guys from the Disney Channel. I stared at my phone. Something felt off about it like someone had messed with it. I remembered making posts during that... time, but they were deleted.

And what was I supposed to make of all these memories bubbling inside of me? It was like my sexual fantasies had come to life. All those ones that I didn’t even trust telling my two best friends, Paris and Petra. My fantasies of being owned. Of being dominated by a strong man. Made into a sex slave.

I wasn’t even given a choice but mind-controlled into being his slut. His whore. To be used. That was my ultimate fantasy. I felt like I’d achieved it.

And now I had lost it.

I had all these fragments of memories of just that. All serving this dark-haired guy. I was his cheerleader-slut. I was at his side, finding him new slaves. We turned my friends into whores. I helped him. I filmed Paris while she masturbated. I watched as my master sodomized Petra’s asshole. I made a promise to him I would always be his slave.

Why couldn’t I remember his face?

Feeling confused, I grabbed my phone. I opened it and flicked through contacts, needing somebody to talk to. I paused at Paris’s. She was my friend, but she was also superficial. Vain. She only dated Lance to piss off her father. To her, Lance was a boytoy to parade around. She pretended that she was so progressive she was dating a Black guy, but I knew she didn’t really care about him.

My eyes darted up to Petra. My Hispanic friend was more honest, a more open girl. But could I confide my true desires to her? I wanted to be his sex slave. I had... memories. My friends had picked on me during the gas attack, insulted me. They had despised me. They didn’t like who my Master was.


My Master wasn’t Chris. My boyfriend was blond, not dark-haired. I glanced at his contact. Why was I dating Chris? Because he was our college’s quarterback, and I was the head cheerleader? It always had felt... natural. Something that I should be doing. But it wasn’t something that I wanted to do.

I wanted to be on my knees. I wanted to be my sex slave to... him.

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes. Who was he? Why couldn’t I remember him?

I blinked my eyes, my throat growing tight. My mouth dry. The tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I was about to let them when there came a light knock on my door. A moment later, it opened and my mom popped her head in.

“I have to get back to work, honey,” she said. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, keeping myself from breaking down before her. “You can go, Mom.”

“You sure?” she asked, though she didn’t sound sure. She had something big going on at work. More important than me.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. It’s just some amnesia. No biggie. I was going to take a nap anyways.”

“Okay,” she said even as she pulled back her head, closing my door. “If you’re sure...”

The door shut before I answered.

I leaned my head back. Flicked through my contacts. There was plenty of guys at my college. Which one was it? Was it a teacher? Who had he been? Did I want to find him?

My thoughts came back to Chris. What to do about him? He was a nice enough lay. He could eat pussy. But I didn’t feel like he owned me. I tapped my screen and opened up the texting app. I typed out a quick message: “We should break up.”

Hit send.

I felt nothing when his reply came back, “Yeah, think I met someone during the gas. I don’t know. It’s confusing.”

“Yeah, it is,” I typed. Send.

We’d been dating for seven months. My longest relationship ever. I didn’t care that it was over. I just cared about—

The doorbell rang.

I groaned and planned on ignoring it. It was probably just some dumb package. There were always shipments coming from this or that online store. My mother loved to shop, even if she could only do it in five minutes spurts on her smartphone in between meetings at her job. I went back to looking at my phone—


I groaned.


“Really?” Muttering, I sat up. “Going to make me answer the door? Asshole.”

I padded barefoot across my bedroom, my long, comfortable t-shirt swaying around my knees. It was the sort of comfortable clothing I wore when feeling depressed. The type that would feel nice even if you put on a couple extra pounds because you were binging on ice cream all weekend while wallowing in self-pity.


I trudged down the stairs, gritting my teeth.


Who was it? Who could be this damn persistent?

I could see them standing through the frosted glass set in the front door. I sighed and headed up to it, noticing the person trying to peer through. I reached the door and wrenched it open.

“Yes!” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “What is your...?”

My words trailed off as I saw who it was. Justin Sampson.

“No, not you,” I groaned.

Why was the dirty pervert here? He was always ogling my friends and me. Always staring at us. I mean, we were hot and all, so if he was a hunkier guy, I’m fine with it. When a sexy girl like me dressed in revealing clothing, we only wanted beautiful guys drooling over us, not weird nerds like Justin Sampson.

“That’s how you greet me, slut?” he demanded with such authority in his voice.

It was shocking. Justin didn’t have a spine. Where had this commanding tone come from? A shiver ran through me.

“You took forever to answer the damned door, too,” he growled. “You think you can just leave your Master waiting on your doorstep?”

“You’re not my... Master,” I said as I stared at him. Studied him. He had dark hair, and—

He seized my blonde ponytail, pulling me close to him. “Whore, you swore to be my slave forever. So get down on your knees, unzip my jeans, and suck my cock before I spank your ass!”

My rump clenched. A whimper escaped my lips. Part of me wanted to obey him, but it was Justin. He was such a nerd and... and...

“It’s really you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “You?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he said. “I want my slave on her knees, sucking my dick, or you are going to get spanked harder than you’ve ever been in your life. I’m going to make that ass red and leave your pussy dripping wet. You’ll be aching for satisfaction. You’re not going to get it, though. You’ll be tied up and begging for it for days. I’ll jam a vibrator up your cunt. I’ll turn it on whenever I feel like it, then, just when you’re about to cum, I’ll turn it off.

“So either obey me or bend over that couch and prepare to be punished.”

It was him!

I quivered, on the verge of disobeying him. He had mind-controlled me once, but I didn’t feel like I was under his power now. I felt like I could do anything in the world. I could suck his dick, or snarl at him to go fuck himself.

“Because I’ll always be your sex slave, Master. Always!” echoed in my mind. That shadowy face became clear. It was Justin’s.

Petra and Paris would hate me again. They would despise me. I didn’t have the excuse that I was under his power this time. It would be my choice to be his sex slave.

I fell to my knees, moaned, “I’m so sorry for not remembering, Master! I’m so sorry. I’m so confused. It’s all jumbled up inside of me. But I’m your slut, Master! Forever!”

“Yes, it’s been... an adjustment,” Master said, gripping my ponytail. “You know your place now, don’t you?”

I nodded. “On my knees, loving you,” I purred as I fumbled to unzip his jeans. To unfasten them. To liberate his cock. “I’m eager to love you!”

His jeans unsnapped with a loud pop. His zipper rasped down, my pussy becoming molten in my panties. My nipples pressed against my t-shirt. They rasped against the fabric as I shuddered. I ripped his jeans down his thighs. His cock tented his boxers. He was a lot bigger than I imagined. For a nerd, he was impressive. I only had flashes of memory of this dick.

I would have to get to know it again.

I yanked down his boxers and groaned as his cock bounced out before me. He thrust straight and hard from his curly, black pubic hair. His heavy balls swayed beneath his shaft.

I let out a wanton moan as I grabbed his dick with my left hand while my right cradled his balls. A shiver ran through me as I pressed my lips against the tip. I sucked just on his slit, drawing out his precum.

“Damn, yes,” he growled. He gripped my ponytail tight. “Worship my dick, slut. I get to do whatever I want to you. I own you.”

My pussy clenched. I sucked harder. He did own me.

I would moan out loud if my lips weren’t sliding over the crown of his dick. I had to blow him. I had to show him just how good I was at pleasing his cock. He grunted as more and more of his dick slid into my warm, wet mouth. My tongue caressed the shaft as I pleasured him. My cheeks hollowed. I worshiped him. I loved his dick. I massaged his balls.

His precum spilled over my tongue. He tasted so good. I reveled in the salty flavor as I sucked and nursed. My cheeks hollowed as I worked my mouth up and down his shaft. I kept my lips sealed tight. His balls twisted in my massaging grip.

“Goddamn, you suck cock better than I remember, whore,” growled my Master.

Justin was my Master. I felt that as I sucked his dick. This was so familiar. It felt so right. I moved my head, rubbing the spongy crown of his dick against different parts of my mouth. More of his precum flowed down my throat as it poured out of his dick.

He was standing right there in my open doorway. Many of my neighbors could see that I was his whore. I wanted them to see. If I had my phone on me, I would be taking a selfie right now. I would be posting on Instagram tagged: #JustinSlut, #CockSlut, #SubmissiveSlave, and #SlaveLife.

I would have the rest of my life to post these sort of pics. To let the world know that Justin owned me. I bobbed my head faster, my excitement growing. I wanted to touch myself. My pussy demanded attention, but I was here to please him.

Not myself.

I squirmed my thighs together, rubbing my hot flesh as my panties soaked up my excitement. My pussy begged for contact, so I kept my hands firmly pleasing my Master. I stroked the base of his cock as I bobbed my head. I fondled his balls, eager for his cum to spill into me.

“Fuck, this is even better than I remember,” he growled. “Oh, yes, whore. You’re my whore, Aurora! Drink it! Drink it all!”

I flicked my eyes up to him. I stared at him, sucking so hard. He pulled out his phone. He aimed it right down at me and grunted. The flash strobed as he snapped a picture, capturing the moment his jizz fired into my mouth.

I swallowed his yummy cum.

I almost came just from tasting it. A little mini-gasm spilled through my body. I quivered, my thighs pressing tight as more and more of my Master’s delicious spunk spurted into my mouth. I gulped it all down. It spilled down my throat.

It warmed my belly.


“That’s it,” groaned my Master as he took another pic.


“Suck out all my cum,” he moaned. “I’m posting this pic on Twitter. #SubmissiveSlave! That’s what you want, right?”

I nodded my head as I gulped down the last of his cum. I popped my mouth off and, breathy, moaned, “Yes, I do! I want you to tag Paris and Petra in them. I want them to know I’m your whore.”


He chuckled. “You can see my cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth in that one, slut.”

I shuddered, feeling so juicy between my thighs.

“Now get that frumpy t-shirt off. My sex slave only wears the tightest, hottest clothes. If she has nothing hot to wear, then she goes naked.”

“Yes, Master!” I moaned. I rose and ripped off my t-shirt, my round breasts bouncing before me. My pink nipples were hard. Then I shoved down my panties. They weren’t skimpy enough. They were just plain, boring panties. Comfortable panties.

I stepped out of them, posing as he snapped more pics of me.


I let him see my naked tits and my shaved pussy. I bet my juices gleamed on my vulva. He grinned, drinking in the sight of me. His fingers tapped and typed at his smartphone’s screen, posting those pics on the Internet.

Posting them for all our college to see.

“Now, bend over the arm of the couch,” he growled. “I want that ass pointed at me. You took too long answering the door, whore.”

A hot shudder ran through me.

“Yes, you have to punish me, Master!” I moaned as I darted for the couch.

“Ten spankings,” Justin said. “I think you tried to mind-controlled me into doing that to you every day.”

I shuddered as a flash of memory popped into my mind. I was leaning into a time-paused Justin, whispering, “Master. You’re going to remember I gave you this command. You’re going to know that I was naughty. Whenever I’m naughty, or whenever any of your sex slaves misbehave, you have to spank us. Bare bottom. With your hand, a belt, with a flogger. It doesn’t matter what you use. You just have to discipline us. Me! You’ll want to discipline me for mind-controlling you. You want to spank me, a minimum of ten times, at least once a day.”

“I was such a naughty, disobedient slave!” I moaned, the arm of the couch rubbing against my belly. I wiggled my rump at him. “I just need you to punish me, Master!”

Justin advance. My pussy clenched. I could feel him looming over me. Preparing to deliver that wonderful spanking that would have me shuddering in delight. An amazing bliss that would consume me with submissive passion. My butt-cheeks tensed.

I whimpered.


“One!” I gasped, finally able to live out one of those naughty scenarios I’d read about on erotica sites. “Thank you, Master!”

Justin let out a groaning sound as the pain from the first spanking melted through my butt-cheeks down to my juicy pussy.

“Damn, that’s hot,” he growled.

“I’m your sex slave, Master,” I moaned. “It’s my job to make it sexy for you.”


“Two! Thank you, Master!” I groaned, the pain burning across my left butt-cheek this time. I squeezed my rump together and wiggled my hips.

A bead of pussy juices ran down my leg.


“Three!” I gasped as the stinging pain burned across my rump. This one landed over both butt-cheeks, falling right over my crack. “Thank you, Master!”


My pussy clenched as I moaned, “Four! Thank you, Master!”


“Five!” I moaned, his spanking landing right where the swell of my ass met my upper thigh. It hurt even worse there. My pussy clenched against the pain as I groaned out, “Thank you, Master!”

“Your ass is looking so red,” Justin said.

He rubbed a finger up and down my shaved pussy slit. Then he shoved two digits inside of me, making my back arch. My round tits jiggled as my elbows pressed into the couch cushion. I whimpered as he stirred me up.

“Spanking you is turning your dirty, little cunt on, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Master!” I moaned, squeezing down on his fingers.


He landed that one with his left hand. Hard. The stinging pain shot through me. My pussy clamped down on his fingers as I screamed out, “Six! Thank you, Master!”

He ripped his finger out of my pussy. I felt my juices splatter my ass. The air rushed.


My back arched. His right hand, two of his fingers wet with my cream, landed square on my flaming butt cheek. The pain was exquisite. It was everything I wanted out of a spanking. I deserve to be punished.

“Seven! Thank you, Master!”

An orgasm was building inside of me. I could cum just from being spanked. The pain was becoming pleasure. It built inside of me, transmuting from agony into rapture. It was amazing. The best delight in the world.


“Eight!” I howled. Tears spilled down my cheeks from the exquisite agony. “Thank you, Master!”


“Nine! Thank you, Master!”

I quivered. I was so close to erupting. My ass was a burning mass of flesh. I tensed, ready for the final spank to fall. I wiggled my hips, enticing him. I needed that pain. I needed it to turn into rapture. More and more juices trickled down my legs. My pussy was on fire.

“Just a dirty, filthy whore,” he growled. He squeezed my left butt-cheek. Wonderful pain flared through me.

I whimpered.

“Who owns you?” he growled.

“You do, Master!”

“You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” he growled.


He took a picture of me as I moaned, “Yes, anything! You order it, and I’ll do it!”

He tossed his phone over my body. It landed on the couch, bouncing a few times. I shuddered, hearing him shifting behind me. I knew he was delivering the final spanking. He was swinging his arm with every ounce of course that he—


He landed the final spanking right on my pussy.

My ass exploded with pain. My back arched as that agony became ecstasy. My cunt convulsed. My juices squirted out of my cunt, bathing his hand still pressed into my punished flesh.

“Ten!” I howled in ragged agony. Tears spilled down my cheeks from the intense pain. My labia bruised, my clit abused. It was rapture. My pussy spasmed harder, my orgasm bucking through my body. “Thank you, Master! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

His hard cock buried to the hilt in me.

My pussy writhed about my Master’s thrusting dick. He gripped my hips, his crotch smacking into my rump. He spanked me all over again as he fucked me. That thwack-thwack of flesh sent a delicious bliss spilling through my climaxing flesh.

I couldn’t stop cumming. Not with his dick churning up my punished pussy. He plunged into me hard and fast. He fucked me like a jackhammer. Harder than Chris ever fucked me. I felt the passion from Justin.

My Master loved me. He gave me what I needed. I was his. Utterly his.

I pressed my face into the couch cushion, howling out my rapture as wave after wave of ecstasy slammed into my mind. My pussy couldn’t stop convulsing around his cock. His balls smacked into my clit again and again. My little nub drank it in, sparks flaring.

“This is my pussy!” Justin groaned. “Only my dick ever goes into it!”

“Yes, Master!” I moaned. “No other guy gives me this pleasure! Not even Chris!”

He let out a growl of satisfaction, fucking me harder. He churned my pussy up to a hot froth, my juices gushing out of me as my climaxes rolled from one to the nest. I reveled in this moment. In this amazing rapture bursting through me.

“Cum in me, Master!” I moaned. “I’m your cum-dumpster! Fill me!”

He growled, his crotch smacking so hard into my spanked ass. The pain only added to the rapture his dick gave me. My mind boiled with lust. So much pleasure spilled through my thoughts. I couldn’t think. I was beyond everything but sensation.

Hard cock plunging into my convulsing pussy.

Smacking crotch spanking into my burning ass.

Rough fabric rubbing my cheek.

I was his.

Utterly Justin’s.

Justin’s cock erupted in me. His cum exploded into my cunt. I quivered, feeling every blast of his hot jizz spurting into me. My eyes fluttered as my orgasm only intensified in celebration.

My master was cumming in me again.

My cunt spasmed even wilder around his cock. My flesh writhed and convulsed. It rippled about his flesh, greedy for more and more of his spunk to fill me. He growled, squeezing my tits, holding them with such a possessive grip. I moaned and gasped, my cheek rubbing into the couch cushion.

“Master!” I screamed out. This was amazing. I was cumming so hard. My climaxes were spilling from one to the other. I was delirious. There was only his cock in my pussy.

Where his cock belonged.

“Aurora!” he growled after spurting a final time. He leaned over me. “Oh, goddamn, Aurora. That was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” I panted. “Mmm, it was. I’m so glad I remembered you. I’m so glad I’m still yours, Master!”

“Yeah,” he panted.

He pulled out of my still-quivering flesh. I felt so open. Then a moment later, a delicious rush of his cum leaked out of me and ran hot down my thighs. I savored it, a big smile on my lips.

“I need your help.”

Despite the euphoria sweeping through me, a part of me just wanting to curl into a ball and pass out, I sprang to my feet with all the perky litheness of a cheerleader. I spun around, facing him. “Anything! Anything, Master!”

“I got a date tonight, but I have no idea how to get ready for it.”

To be concluded...