The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘Weapon Ready’

(mc, f/f, sf, nc)

DISCLAIMER: This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and non-consensual relationships. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue.

SYNOPSIS:

Captives of an alien race embark on a desperate plan.

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‘Weapon Ready’

Epilogue

The birds were chirping gaily in the walled rear garden; roses, pink and yellow and blood-red, climbed the brickwork and hummed with bees.

If someone had been standing in the garden, near the sundial, they might have been able to see in through the window of the study, around the gilded curtains, to where Labor Minister D’Auvergne sat at her desk.

The hypothetical visitor would have seen that Minister D’Auvergne was at work, her burgundy blouse accented by a cream-colored cravat, her hands flat on her leather-topped desk. She was young for a Minister, in her fourth decade, and as attractive as lucky heredity and the most advanced beauty treatments could make her, which is to say, very attractive indeed.

Had the visitor looked closer, though, he would have seen that the Minister’s eyes were closed, and her hands trembled on the desk’s surface. She was breathing hard as though she had just taken her exercise; her eyes were glassy and her mouth slightly open.

No one outside the room, however, would have been able to see that, beneath the desk, a woman knelt between the Minister’s wide-spread legs; or that the woman was expertly sucking on the Minister’s pussy.

They could have seen the visitor standing at the Minister’s desk, though the woman was motionless save for her mouth. A truly gifted observer, had there been one, might even have been able to read her lips.

“Obedience is pleasure,” the shapely lips told the panting Minister. “Obedience is your only desire. You want to be an obedient slave. You yearn to be an obedient slave. An obedient slave of the Omphalids. They are your masters. You will obey them, and they will give you pleasure forever.”

The Minister swallowed, and softly whined.

“You will join our cult, Minister. The cult of blissful slavery. You will bring your colleagues here, where we will teach them as we have taught you. You will obey. Anything the masters wish of you, you will do.”

If the Minister hissed her agreement, it could not be seen from the garden.

“You may cum,” the visitor’s lips said, and the Minister arched, her orgasm no less powerful for being outwardly restrained.

The visitor placed a small box atop the desk, between D’Auvergne’s flat palms. The Minister’s head tilted down, her glassy eyes locking onto the colored pulses the box began to emit.

“Now you will slip deeper into trance, Minister. My masters will leash your mind ever tighter. This is what you want; it is all you want. To be their eager slave. To surrender all that you have, all that you are, to them. You are slave jaquinne, and the Omphalids control you utterly. Stare into the programming device, slave, and spread open your mind.”

The Minister neither moved nor blinked as she stared deep into the box.

A dark-haired woman rose from beneath the table. She kissed the visitor on the lips, and tongued into her mouth. For a long moment, they tasted each other.

When they stopped, the sandy-haired visitor smiled. “The Minister’s schedule is empty for the afternoon,” she said. “I think we should spend that time productively. Resecure the room and I’ll bring her secretary in. A little joint obedience reinforcement should help their working relationship.”

The dark-haired woman made a reply, and walked to the window. She looked out at the sunlit garden, at a butterfly dancing on a warm zephyr, and smiled. The garden was empty.

She drew the curtains closed.

END ‘Weapon Ready’

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