The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Corelle D’Amber’s photograph lay in the briefcase next to Howard Osric. Her auburn hair read much darker in the grainy photo. The eye patch she was wearing was jet black. Osric had taken a number of photos over the last three weeks, but he liked this one best. He had caught her smiling, a rare shot. After watching her arrive at work and the few charity social events she deigned to attend, he had decided to hit her where she felt the strongest. Her headquarters office in the financial district was perfect. The forty floor office tower had security at the first floor lobby and at the reception area that accessed D’Amber’s own PolyCorp offices. The PolyCorp lobby even had concealed metal detectors in place. She would have the least idea that she was vulnerable in her own office.

All to the good. He’d be back in France by the weekend.

This wasn’t the first ‘special’ job that Osric had taken and he was proud of his record of success. He knew D’Amber was much older than her apparent forty years and pretty dangerous in close quarters. His sources of information were much better than anything likely to be in common databases and he knew most of the usual material about her was a fabrication. He was a successful specialist and he didn’t intend to get close. With his techniques, he didn’t need to get close.

He watched through his monocular as her limo arrived at the underground entrance to the office tower. The black window rolled down on the driver’s side. A visual check was made. The car passed through. He checked the time. Seven. She was extremely punctual and dedicated he mused. Good for him, bad for her.

He had her schedule nailed down for every day of the week.

Well, she was here today. Everything was as it should be. He punched the number on his satellite phone. “Salamander, please. I’ll wait.” He watched the delivery vans process through garage security while the phone was silent. “Yes, sir. I’m in position and the target is green. Do I have your permission to take her down?” He nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s done.” He pushed ‘end’ and closed the phone.

He waited. He tested his equipment once just before noon, in particular checking the battery charge cycle of his EM gear. When he saw Ms. Chrissy Caine coming out of the tower, he got out of his car. On time, on schedule, he thought. The nice and easy part about this job was that D’Amber surrounded herself with people who were just as organized and efficient as she.

He could use that. He would. Now.

He locked the car. Pocketed the keys and strolled after PolyCorp’s chief executive accountant. He got a bit of a hard-on watching her walk in front of him, knowing what was about to happen to her.

He stayed hear her. He ate a salad while she had her lunch. When she went to the ladies room, he followed a minute later. He stepped in and waited just inside the ladies room door with his foot wedged against the door swing. In five minutes she came out of the stall. There was that shocked moment when she stared at the impossibility of a silent man standing in the female sanctum.

He brought the parabolic emitter up from his waist and shot her with the EM pulse rig. She went down as everything in her brain went into a scramble. She lay on the floor in a rag-doll heap with only slight muscle tremors to show she was conscious. He stepped over and crouched beside her.

“Ms. Caine, you must obey my voice. You must obey my voice. My voice is your own voice. My voice is your thoughts. You will shoot Corelle D’Amber. I’m giving you a two shot ceramic pistol.” He unbuttoned her blouse and slid the flat pistol into the top of her brassiere. “You will shoot her, because she killed your mother and father.” He rebuttoned her blouse. “You’ve smothered your anger for as long as you can stand it and now it will explode out of you the next time you see her. You will shoot her in the spine. Below the heart. Two shots to the spine from behind. Obey your own voice. You don’t want her to know it’s coming. You must shoot her today. Obey and make sure it is the mid-spine. It pleases you to obey.”

Caine’s lips started moving. Good. She was coming around.

“Corelle D’Amber must pay. You have to shoot her. Say it with me Chrissy. You will shoot her.”

Tears worked their way from the corners of her eyes. Her lips shook. “Shoot her.”

Good. Her brain was reorganizing its inventory and his words were getting stored. “You have to shoot her. She killed your parents. She must die and you will shoot her in the spine.”

“Shoot. In spine.” Her eyes were wide. Her words slurred. Her breathing had gone from small pants to a more regular rhythm.

Osric smiled down at her, “Yes, Chrissy. No one will blame you. Shoot her and be done with your rage and pain.”

“Shoot her.” Her voice was stronger and more sure.

Good enough. He stood up, checked his look in the mirror and walked out of the ladies room. Twelve minutes later he was back in his car. The ambulance’s arrival would tell him the job was done.

He watched a slightly flushed Caine walk back into the building.

Corelle’s phone rang. She pressed the speaker button, “Yes?”

“Ms. Caine is here to see you.”

Corelle D’Amber’s face was expressionless. She swiveled in her chair and looked at the monitor at the far right of her glass desk. “I don’t have anything on my schedule with Chrissy. Is this a quick thing?” Corelle absently listened while Markie spoke to Chrissy away from the phone.

“Yes, ma’am. She has papers that she wants you to sign. Ten minutes tops.”

“I’ve got ten minutes. Send her in.” Corelle flipped off the speaker. The heavy mahogany door swung open and Chrissy strode in. The special hinges slowly closed the door against its gasket seal as Chrissy crossed the room.

She stopped at the desk and made a tentative smile. “Just a few pieces today, Ms. D’Amber.”

“We all have our part to play. Let me see.” Chrissy moved around the desk and put the folder down. Corelle flipped it open. She smelled something odd. Something small was out of place. She looked over the pages and quickly realized that these papers would normally be batched into next month’s cycle. There was no reason to sign them now. Without turning her head, she glanced sideways at the desktop monitor. In the dark face of the screen, she saw a canted reflection of Chrissy sliding her hand into her blouse a step behind her.

Several things fit at once. Chrissy was here under false pretenses. Someone had gotten to her. Urine was the smell. Chrissy had a faint clinging odor of urine, too faint to be noticeable to anyone human. In the reflection, Corelle saw Chrissy’s hand come out of her blouse holding a flat white box with a trigger.

She spun the chair. Her hand slapped upward and smacked into Chrissy’s. The white box went flying away and bounced on the carpet. Corelle took a firm grip on Caine’s wrist and rose from her chair. She was no taller than her accountant but seemed to be somehow larger.

Chrissy’s face was a pale grimace of mixed horror and shame, she hissed, “I’ll shoot you for what you did!” She began to struggle. Corelle twisted her arm, spun her off balance and pushed her against the window glass. She transferred her hand quickly to the back of Chrissy’s neck. Her other hand went to the waistband of the young woman’s skirt. She popped the button completely off with her fingers and pulled the zipper down. She let the skirt fall to the floor and pulled the slip down with a single yank.

Chrissy tried to speak but the pressure of Corelle’s hand against the back of her neck barely allowed her to move her jaw. She was terrified. She knew that she was in horrible trouble. She was bewildered. Could she be raped for trying to shoot someone? Her confusion spread through her mind.

Corelle smelled it full force now. Under Chrissy’s pantyhose, her panties were damp with a spot of urine. She had probably been brain burned and a small release from her bladder had been a side effect. That EM weapon she had read about in the CIA feeder reports. Somewhere nearby was a professional killer. Corelle knew she was the target and Chrissy had the only possible scraps of information on who the hitter was.

She spun Chrissy back around and put her hand to her own face. Chrissy had a moment to wonder how Corelle could be so strong. So sure. Then she looked at her boss and realized she had lifted her eye patch. Mother of Glory! The—.

—She was bad. A bad girl with a horny pussy. She should be spanked. Her ass smacked until she came. So warm. She prayed that D’Amber would punish her. She remembered now that her parents weren’t dead. How could she try to hurt Ms. D’Amber? D’Amber was so important. So strict. She always did her work on time. Hot. Chrissy felt so sorry. She remembered the bad man standing over her saying bad things about Ms. D’Amber. The terrible words that filled her mind. Words larger than her entire head. Chrissy was so grateful when Ms. D’Amber took all the words away. She got down on her knees and asked for forgiveness. She saw how beautiful her boss’s feet were and started kissing them. They smelled so good. Chrissy had been bad. Very bad. She licked Corelle’s feet. Punish me. Kissed them. She ran her tongue up the foot and tickled her ankle. Spank me. I’ll love you. I’ll worship you. I’ll—

Chrissy Caine blinked at the glowing floor numbers in the elevator cab. She felt overheated. Warm. Aroused. She couldn’t recall what she had been thinking a moment ago. Oh, right. Papers were signed. She was sweating inside her bra and pantyhose. There was something seriously wrong with the heat in the building today. She tugged at her skirt and realized that it was missing a button.

Oh great! First slipping in the bathroom after lunch, now her skirt was going to fall off. Well, she had a safety pin in her desk. She headed there when the elevator opened.

Osric watched outside. When the ambulance arrived he started snapping a few photos. He waited. There. After a long time inside, the gurney and paramedics appeared with an escort of ten security people speeding out of the lobby to the back of the ambulance in the plaza.

Perfect. He put the monocular to his eye. Though the body was wrapped and strapped in place with an oxygen mask over the face, he saw the auburn hair.

But he saw there was no eye patch. Impossible. Caine had shot the wrong woman.

He grimaced and took a few more pictures. He clearly saw the IV attached to the gurney. Damn, stupid girl. How annoying. This just wasn’t a good thing to have to tell Salamander. He shot a couple more pics while they loaded the gurney in the van. As it sped off he put the camera down on the seat. There was someone looking in the passenger window. Auburn hair and smiling, he gaped. NO! She had the eye patch up and he saw—

—She was powerful. He couldn’t move his arms. He was bound. Naked. He tried to bite down on the tooth he never thought he would need. It wasn’t there. Only a gap. He got hard. Fear. He thought about the stories of men who had stalked the Serpent. Hot. Missions made him hot. He didn’t know what to do. He always knew what to do next. Not now. Whirling arousal. Shivers. Heat. Hard cock. She smelled like his first kiss. Like the Parker girl. High school. He nuzzled her neck. Sucked her flesh. He gave her a hickey. Laughed. She wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her hand. Her tits. He wanted her tits wrapped around his cock. He looked up at her face. Not Parker. Only one eye. She smelled so good. He would do her. Then shoot her. Yeah. D’Amber had to be disabled. That’s what Salamander was paying for. What the hell. Fuck her and then pop her in the spine. He couldn’t move his arms. They obeyed her and not him. Why was that hot? Why wasn’t he strong anymore? Very bad. Very wrong! . So hot to fuck. He felt panic somewhere remotely. I’ll love you. I’ll worship you. I’ll—

He stared ahead. The road was a winding one. He didn’t know it. He couldn’t remember whether he had a map or not. What just happened? It was dark. His headlights cut outlines of rail fences on either side of the road.

“Turn left here coming up.”

He looked right. Hadn’t remembered picking up anyone. The woman had an eye patch, which really bothered him for some reason. Why would he pick up an ugly prostitute? That didn’t make sense. He turned when the left appeared.

A short drive. His headlights picked up a gate. Closed and no lights. Weird. He stopped.

The woman asked, “Have you got a cigarette?”

He reached for his silver case; “You don’t smoke.” Now how the hell had he known that? Did he know this bitch?

She smiled. “I quit. I haven’t smoked in fifteen years. I haven’t taken a man in twice that long.” He lit the cigarette for her. He thought she might be nervous. Well, they were here. Wherever that was, so if he was going to get some pussy, he’d better make small talk.

“That’s a long time. Why did you quit men?” Why would a hooker quit men? Where was this crazy conversation going? She drew on the smoke and the cherry went red. Strange, that made his stomach flip over. He was glad her face was shadowed. She had a great voice, but he didn’t want to see her face again.

“They’re too damn much fun,” she husked. Her hand went to his crotch. He was really hard. So hard it almost hurt. “Like smoking. Bad for you but fun. Taking men messes up my hormones. Makes me a little crazy. Took me six hundred years to figure that out. Another hundred to taper off. My sisters were not so lucky. They’re dead from hunters like you.”

His heart went icy. She slid across the seat; her legs were silky, smooth and warm. She had her skirt hiked up. She slid her leg across his lap. She was very wet; he felt that through his pants. She undid his belt, pulled his trousers open. She sat spread across his lap. She tightened her legs on the outside of his. He moved his hips to rub his cock against her belly.

“Turn on the interior light.” God! What a great voice she had. It smoldered with sex.

He reached for it and paused. Something bad. He didn’t want to see her face. Something. He flipped the light on. Her arms slid around his neck. She had turned the eye patch up against her forehead. NOno—

—She was powerful. Her legs were hot on either side of his own. He couldn’t move his arms. He was bound. Naked. He remembered who she was. He got hard. Fear. He knew men didn’t return from this. Hot. Missions made him hot. He was going to die. He always knew what to do next. Not now. Whirling arousal. Shivers. Heat. Hard cock. She smelled like his first kiss. She would be his last kiss. He nuzzled her neck. She wrapped her fingers around his neck. Her hand. Her tits. He wanted her tits wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t see her face. One eye. Cyclops. She smelled so good. He would do her. Then shoot her. Yeah. D’Amber had to be in the hospital so they could transport her to Europe. Salamander. What the hell. Fuck her and then shoot her. He couldn’t move his arms. They obeyed her and not him. Why was that hot? He realized he had never been strong. Never ever been as strong as he thought. Very bad. Very wrong. So hot to fuck. He went down into the darkness. It was wonderful! . She was strong. She called. He obeyed. I’ll love you. I’ll worship you. I’ll die for you. Command me. Only let me live. I’ll—

Corelle’s hair was damply plastered to her face as she got out of the car. She left the door open and walked to the gate of her country estate. Opening the stainless steel lid, she pushed the keypad sequence and the gates started to open. The lights came on all the way up the drive. Her loins were soaked. Her stockings were drenched to the knee and it felt wonderful. She had all the information she really needed. She debated keeping him. She knew she could quit men. She had before. She realized she was fingering her nipple through her blouse. He was handsome but cruel.

No.

He wasn’t valuable in and of himself. He wasn’t exceptional. She didn’t need it. She knew her limits. She knew how dangerous it was to stretch them. She thought about the man with the sniper rifle from last year. Probably he was also a hire of the Salamander’s. That explained why she had been hit in the back down low where it wouldn’t be fatal. Someone wanted her intact. The Salamander wanted her power intact.

Damn. She was a lover, not a fighter. Why did the Salamander want her? He must be planning on expanding again. Europe and Russian weren’t big enough for him anymore. That was his nature, she thought back as she climbed back into the vehicle and started it, to expand. Osric was out on the floor of the car. She briefly wondered if his heart could take one more session with her. Her pussy ached for more. Her nipples were hard.

They all had their own natures to contend with, the Old Ones. Their own limits.

She drove the car up the drive. She’d need lab technicians to go over the car, get everything they could and then scrub it of her presence.

She started planning her war strategy as she drove slowly without the headlights.

Osric came awake. First he smelled the aroma of sex. Strong and beautiful. Then he felt his body aching and bruised along his legs and arms. He started to get hard. What was happening? His eyelashes flickered open a slit and he saw dim lights outside the car illuminate Corelle’s face behind the wheel.

Mistress. Queen. Command me.

He shivered tangled there on the floor of the car. He wanted her again. He imagined a thousand different pleasures he might perform for her. Some things he thought of were freakish acts that he had seen in brothels or sex circuses. He pictured himself entertaining her to keep her interest. Going further and further into submission, just to get her individual attention. Just to live.

His stomach rolled and he felt queasy. Aroused. Hot. His cock was rock-hard now.

His left hand slid an inch and encountered something stashed under the seat. He recognized it by touch. The EM rig he had used today on Cathy—no, Chrissy. He recalled the thrill of seeing Chrissy on the floor of the ladies room, shaking and taking his orders. It seemed pale now next to the pleasure he wanted from the Mistress.

Then he remembered he had been sent to kill Corelle. No. That would never happen now. He couldn’t imagine his pain if she were gone. He was a hired killer. Contracted death. Wait. He thought about what his employer would do if he switched sides and he found he didn’t care. He was already Corelle’s fucktoy. Thinking about it he knew he was right.

But she—she was the Serpent. Men did not come back from her embrace. He stroked the EM weapon. He turned his head a fraction to look at the pitch black under the car’s seat. His finger touched the tester button. It cycled green. Fully recharged.

Two sides of his mind went to war. She was the Mistress. He must survive. She was to be cherished and worshipped. He would die in her arms. She made him feel so good, so malleable, so hot. He only wanted to live. Live to serve her. Yes. That was it, he would only use the EM device to spare his life. He would still be hers. He could make her spare his life so he could serve her all his days. Even kill the Salamander, if that was what she wanted. Only he had to live.

The car stopped. She put the drive in park and opened the side door. Lights came on under the dash and he got a long look at her legs while she slid out of the car. Long pale stockings, now soaked with dampness down to the knees. A single run through the material dropping below her knee. The vision swam in his mind of licking those legs. He looked again and she was gone. He heard her footsteps on the gravel drive somewhere outside the car.

He had to be hers forever. He had to live. He pulled the rig out from under the seat and checked the simple controls. He palmed the parabolic emitter with the trigger device and pushed the batteries back under the seat. Then he lay still waiting.

Corelle went up to the front door and pushed the bell. She waited. It was so late; they would be asleep and not expecting her. Unless someone had called from the office to say she had vanished after lunch. Then someone here might be aware.

The lights came on. The door opened. Instead of Louisa’s face, it was Dr. Adler who rushed into Corelle’s arms. They hugged each other passionately. Suzie kissed her hard on the lips and slipped her tongue deep into her mouth. Corelle felt a soothing heat pass between them. Yes. Wonderful. She tasted Suzie’s fear and knew that the lunchtime confusion at PolyCorp had been reported.

They broke apart in a minute. “Where have you been? We’ve been crazy waiting for you to call. The hospital released Meera, of course. What have you—”

Corelle put her fingers over Suzie’s mouth. “Hush. I have the assassin in the car. I need you to call Stanhope and get her to bring over a team to wipe the physical evidence from the car.”

Adler glanced at the idling car. “All right.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is he alive?” Dr. Adler knew more than most of just how far Corelle could go to defend herself.

“Yes. Stanhope can take him and hand him over to the police. I’m sure he has a record they will match up given time. He won’t talk about me. I’ve turned him.”

Adler looked relieved, “OK. I’ll call right now. Corelle, you had us terrified. You could have called.”

She smirked, “I was busy, Suzie.” She felt good. Seeing Suzie had calmed her a little. She gave her a little push back towards the house, patted her ass. Suzie nodded and rushed back inside. Corelle turned back to the car and walked to the passenger door. It was locked. She shook her head in irritation and walked around the front of the car. Rounding the driver’s door she reached for the door lock controls. She saw no reason to drag Osric out across the driver’s side.

She saw him shift on the floor. He was awake.

He brought the emitter up and shot her.

He saw something flash about her in the darkness. She screamed and staggered back with her eye wide and her fingers clutching air. His guts roiled. Had her hurt her? What was the flash? He had never seen this kind of—.

Out of his line of sight she howled and it was an inhuman thing of rage and pain.

He levered himself up from the floor wanting to see. The dashboard of the car was flickering. On. Off. He stared as the gauges danced. Then the car stuttered and started running ragged. He was frightened that he had somehow hurt her. He cursed. The pulse rig never did these things! It was tuned to specific harmonics that matched the brain. She should be down with all neural activity in shambles. He grunted; his sore muscles wanted to rest but he pushed himself over to the driver’s side. “Mistress, are you—.”

She was still standing. Her feet were planted a yard apart but her knees were bent together and touching. She was doubled over her stomach, silently gasping and her arms were clutching about her abdomen. A corona shimmered about her in the darkness growing stronger and more visible. Flickering and dancing with visible spectrum it flared with crimson smoky appendages around her head. He gaped and swore. He had hurt her! Somehow, the effect was different on her! He tried to get his legs out of the car, thinking only to help her somehow.

She wailed a long sad sound.

Her position altered little but her head came up. His hands started shaking. His bladder let loose. Around her head were writhing stretching lines of transparent red energy like a crown. The thought hit him that instead of neutralizing her mind the pulse had dumped energy into her. She was hurt. What he saw now must be normally in an unseen spectrum. Invisible. She had become a Kirlian aura. He watched the finger thin crimson lines of force radiate from her head in waving motions. She bared her teeth and hissed a deep pain. Red light was flickering about the edges of her eye patch.

He screamed as the crimson lines converged on him. “Mistress! No!”

Suzie walked into the library and closed the door behind her. Corelle was slumped on the couch with a shawl around her shoulders. She was sipping tea that Louisa had brought an hour ago. Suzie hoped it was still warm.

She sat down next to her. “Stanhope is gone. The car and body will be found on the road leading here. She thinks that’s the best we can do. You look like hell. You should be in bed.”

Corelle sighed. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight. For if I do, I will dream about the old days and my dead sisters will come and talk to me. My dreams will have men trying to kill me and I’ll run into the darkness of Hades only to find an army of lovers waiting for me.”

Suzie shivered and paled. She had heard the killer’s last scream. She had seen his stiff expression of horror locked on his dead face. “It wasn’t your fault. You—”

Corelle cut her off. “It was. It was me. The real me, Suzie. I went over the limit. I was pushed over, but it was still me. I did it. That’s what I am. You have poked me enough with your instruments and tests. You know what I’m not at least. Don’t try to normalize me. It’s pointless and foolish.”

“Corelle.” She tried to think of anything to say. Anything that Corelle might not have heard before or told herself through the years. It was daunting, impossible. Then she realized that actions had deeper meanings than words. She reached out and stroked her friend’s cheek. “He was a killer. He died better than he lived.”

Corelle sighed and refrained from pointing out that she was a killer too. “Sorry, Suzie. I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go home? I’ll call off work tomorrow. I’m sure the FBI will be back here once this gets out. Too close to my doorstep. I think we’ll need your impartial advice come morning. Planning and all.”

Suzie smiled with secret thoughts. “Fuck my impartial advice.” She slid her hand up Corelle’s strained face and slid her fingers under the edge of the eye patch. So smoothly done that Corelle gasped.

For a moment, Suzie thought she saw crimson flickers around her friend’s head. Odd. Light from the fireplace, perhaps. Then she concentrated on the warm sensation under her fingertips. She stroked the heat there. Corelle groaned with sudden passion.

Suzie leaned into Corelle and kissed her jawline. Stroking with her fingertips beneath the patch, she moved her face down to Corelle’s breasts and bit the left one through the layers of clothing and shawl. Corelle chuckled in a husky register. “You are incorrigible.”

“Yes. Mistress.” She smiled and bit the hidden tit again. “Perhaps you should punish me?” It was working. Suzie rubbed beneath the eye patch and Corelle gasped.

“Help me to bed, you little slut and I will,” whispered Corelle.

Suzie’s heart swelled with heat and relief. It would work. Maybe only this time but that was enough as far as she was concerned. One day at a time was just fine. She got up and helped Corelle to her feet. They left the warmth of the library and moved along the hall to the master bedroom. As soon as they were inside, Suzie started taking clothes off of Corelle. By the time she let Corelle sit on the edge of the bed, her friend was only wearing thigh-highs and eye patch. Suzie moved to take off a soaked stockings and Corelle waved her off. “I feel sexier with the cum smell still on me.” Corelle nodded to her. “Strip.”

A pulse of heat shivered through her. Suzie didn’t have a world-class body. She knew how many lovers Corelle had. How beautiful some of them were. Hell. She had made side by side comparisons of herself naked with some of them. Yet she always was hot to strip for Corelle. Her mistress always enjoyed her nudity. Her power.

She started taking off her clothing. Slowly and carefully. Teasing herself and Corelle. She let her own heat surge up as she threw down blouse, skirt, camisole, and then tap pants. She ran her hands up through her blonde hair. She wasn’t wearing bra or panties. The Mistress didn’t like it. She left on her stockings, garter and heels for the opposite reason. It added to everything. Suzie pushed her fingers down into her shaved crotch.

Corelle smiled wickedly. “Why doctor, it seems you’ve got your hand stuck in your pussy. Now won’t that be inconvenient? Putting on your clothes one handed? Making your appointments at your office with your hand down your skirt?” Corelle smiled and started to stroke her own sex. “What an embarrassing situation.”

Suzie shivered. “Oooh.” She tried to move her hand away from her pussy. Of course, she couldn’t now. It was stuck. She imagined Corelle leaving her this way. She thought about walking around with one hand massaging her pussy all-day and trying to act normally. She flushed. So hot. She imagined her nursing staff laughing behind her back. Her fingertips found more pussy juice and she rubbed her clit with it. Her legs trembled. “Oh, please, Corelle. You can’t—”

“Oh, but I can my dear. Do you remember the year I had you wear nipple rings? Or the month that you had to write ‘bad ass’ in lipstick on your rear every morning? I think I can do whatever I want with you.” Corelle grinned and moved her hand lovingly around her own pussy. She used her fingers to spread her lips wide and worked her middle finger into her snatch.

Suzie remembered very well. She spread her legs and crouched down a bit so she could get her whole hand working her pussy and clit. “Yes. Mistress. You can do whatever you want with me.” She was almost ready to cum. Her breathing was already ragged. Her ass cheeks were flushed against the cool air.

“Oh, I know! I’ll have you shave your head completely and you can wear different colored wigs each day.” Corelle teased.

“Yes! Ugh! Oh!” Suzie came hard and kept her fingers moving to prolong the orgasm. She imagined her nurses gawking at her as she came into the office with a blue pageboy wig on. Imagined her nights at home with a shaved scalp, masturbating in a mirror. She did come again then and still she couldn’t stop her hand from massaging her wet cunt. “Please, Mistress,” she begged, “let me stop.” It might hurt if she kept masturbating now but she knew Corelle could keep her at it for hours. She had stirred Corelle’s passion to help her heal, as she knew how closely her Mistress’s energy levels were tied to her health.

Now the question was, where would the limit be? How far would Corelle push her this time?

Suzie tried not to imagine. Yet she did anyway. Sometimes, she thought Corelle knew these things too. Knew exactly what she was thinking when possessed by the dark lust. After all the years she had known Corelle, it was still damn hard to know how she thought.

“I’ll let you stop if you promise to shave your head.” Corelle pinched her own clit and came. The room suddeenly seemed warmer. Suzie felt it from two feet away and pushed her palm harder against her own mound.

She couldn’t imagine explaining it to her office staff. She worked herself near to orgasm with her hand. Keeping her nurses from asking awkward questions? How? “Oh, please,” moaned the doctor, “I’d never be able to—”

Corelle cut her off hard, “NOW I’ll only let you stop if you shave your head and answer to Sweet Cheeks while it grows back.”

Suzie felt the hot flashes run from her clit and pussy up her back as she arched. If she didn’t agree quickly it would get worse. “Yes. Mistress.” She came. Blackness and fire blended in her vision.

“Yes, what?” Corelle purred.

“Yes, Mistress, I’ll shave my head. I’ll wear colored wigs. I’ll answer to Sweet Cheeks.” She came again. Fire and darkness.

“Oh, that’s good, Sweet Cheeks. You can stop playing with yourself now.”

The newly christened Sweet Cheeks collapsed to her knees as her hand eased out of her dripping snatch. She crawled over to Corelle and rested her head on her Mistress’s feet.

“Of course, if you don’t want to—” teased Corelle.

She smiled and looked up at Corelle. Passion smoldered in her eyes. “My name is Sweet Cheeks and I would love to shave my head, Mistress.” Heat rippled through her again.

Corelle bent down. Her head almost went between her own knees and she tenderly kissed her friend’s uplifted face. “Thank you, my sweet. I understand the gift and I deeply cherish it. In a few weeks, I’ll let you off the hook.”

Dr. Sweet Cheeks Adler came hard and smiled.