The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gemma could hear the sounds of her footsteps echo through the empty hallways as her feet hit the cold stone floors as she made her way to the teachers lounge. She was not a teacher she was a student but with it being the holidays and all the other students either gone home or staying with friends for the next few weeks the canteen was closed. If that were not bad enough, the school was so far outside town the only place to get a hot meal within twenty miles was the teachers’ dining room. She wished that she could just have stayed in her room and surf the web, but she had to eat some time, and was even do it was the holidays the rules forbid food in the dorms. “Another one of HER Dam stupid rules,” Gemma said to herself as a hundred eyes looked down at her from the walls. So each evening she was forced to make the trip down this long lonely hall past the portraits of all the graduates who had gone on to be the elder wives and mothers of the country’s powerful men or powerful women in their own right. Gemma knew she would never be one of those women! She had been born on the wrong side of the tracks, and raised in foster homes in the rough part of a city back east. She’d learned a long time ago what life had in store for her, and it was not sipping tea with her little pinky sticking out—that was for sure. No, her future was to be a hooker or a thief. In truth, she hadn’t cared which she found her self stop and look up at one of the portraits on the wall as she remembered how her troubles had all began few months ago.

If there was one thing she was good, at was running. It had served her well in her life, keeping her out of the grip of the law and rape gangs more than once. That is, up until six months ago. She was spotted shoplifting in one of the swanky parts of town: she had broken one security guard’s nose and ruined an Others sex life for a month or two before they caught her. Cops were called, and she was hauled downtown. A check of her room by the cops turned up more stolen stuff. Once the stuff was traced back to their original owners, they quickly identified Gemma as the girl they had chased from their stores. Gemma was sure that with her record she would end up in a juvenile home. Judge Mary Magee, a stern faced woman of about forty-five however, had other plans. After hearing all the evidence, (and even Gemma had to admit there was a lot), Judge Magee had informed the court that she believed in correction rather than incarceration. And went on to say that she believed that there was good in every one and that it was her duty to find a way to bring that out.

Gemma had a choice: Judge Magee had told the court. She could either spend a year in a correctional facility, or instead be sent half way across the country to The Simmons School for Young Ladies on, of all things, an Atlantic scholarship. Gemma had smiled as she had heard the choices. A year locked up in the pen with guards and locked doors. Or a cushy number in a college out West were it was warm all year round. At the time, Gemma didn’t think there was much choice; in retrospect, if she had known that it was an all girls’ school and so far from the nearest town she might have decided that juvie would have been better.

She had been having a hard time since she arrived. In five months she had been grounded fifteen times. “Here at the Simmons school there are many rules. The most important rule is you will obey your teachers,” the battle-axe that ran the place had said when she first arrived. And it seemed everything she enjoyed was against those rules. Gemma had used her last trip to the town to smuggle back a bottle of booze. Of course, her roommate squealed on her, and she had lost her town privileges. Now the holidays were here, and the rest of the students were off spending time with their families and boyfriends, and probably fucking the night away. She was stuck in this prison with only her hand for company. Even if she had not been grounded, she thought, she couldn’t have afforded to get out of this dive for a few hours to the movies or a bar. Gemma was only sixteen but had no problem passing for twenty-one. She was tall for her age with a well-developed body trim from all her running. With a nice ass and firm if not overly large breasts. Her face all do not beautiful was pretty with high cheek bones and hazel eyes toped off with a mane of long curly dark hair. So She could always get some horny guy to provide her a drink—and maybe later if she felt like it a fuck. God, how she missed sex. With it being an all girls’ school, she hadn’t had a good fuck in over six months.

One of the girls had tried it on her a month or two so ago, but she had beaten the crap out of the sick dyke bitch and sent her running for her mommy. She needed to get out of this mausoleum and back to the city. That would take money: she couldn’t make cab fare if her life depended on it right now. So she was stuck here with all the relics. What she needed was a job; some way of getting some money together. She made her usual stop at the bulletin board on the way to the dinning room; it was filled with cards offering jobs at five dollars an hour in some stupid fast food restaurant in town. At that wage, it would take her months to get enough to get out of here. Then she spotted something new: ‘TYPIST WANTED:’ it read. ‘MUST BE EXPERIENCED IN USE OF WORD PROCESSING SOFTWARE.’ But that wasn’t what caught her eye. The final line, read: ‘THIRTY DOLLARS PER HOUR, MINIMUM FORTY HOURS.’ She started to count the money up in her head. With over a thousand dollars, she could be out of this juvie joint in less than a week.

First, there were problems to solve. The job was in town over twenty miles away, and even if she had a way to get to it, she was grounded. Second, there was no way that the bitch of a headmistress was going to let her go to town on her own, not after all the times she had broken all those stupid rules of hers; she’d never be allowed to go out and work. And it was not as if she could tell the bitch her real reason for wanting the job. So as she walked in to the teacher’s lounge clutching the card, she had still no idea of how she was going to talk her way into getting into town. As the meal ended Gemma sat, her meal almost untouched, looking at the faces around her. “So Gemma what are you doing these days,” the French teacher asked in his singsong voice. Gemma jumped. She wanted to tell the old fool to mind his own fucking business. Taking a deep breath, she sweetly answered that she had lots of free time now. This sparked a conversation between the six teachers in the room on how a young girl should have some thing to do rather than sitting around the school alone. Gemma decided it was time to make her move. “There is a job in town I could do for a week or two. And it would help give me experience in typing,” she said, aiming the last remark at her English teacher, whom she knew had a sick little lesbo thing for her. She didn’t have to like her to use her, though. All the teachers thought it would be a great idea for her to get out and learn about the real world. All that is, except Miss Simmons the headmistress. “And you expect us to trust you young lady.” she asked with a bitter tone. “Now then,” the English teacher said jumping to her defense, “it might be good for the girl to get away from here for a while,” she said with a kind tone to her voice. But Miss Simmons was not backing down. “And how do you expect to get to the town young lady.” she asked. “I could catch the fucking bus,” Gemma said, with more defiance than she intended, and bit her lip as she watched the anger cross Miss Simmons’s face. “You may leave that card here and return to your room young lady,” Miss Simmons said with her sternest voice. Gemma stormed out of the room with out stopping.

It was nearly midnight when she heard a knock at her door. Gemma was not surprised to find her English teacher standing at the door. “I’m sorry Gemma,” she said, letting her eyes roam over Gemma’s form, “but headmistress forbids you to leave the college till you can prove you can be trusted to obey the rules.” Gemma was incensed, but said nothing; she hadn’t expected anything less from the old bitch. “Would you like to talk about this for a while?” the teacher had asked. Gemma had told her ‘no, she just wanted to sleep on it,’ and closed the door. She would sleep on it, all right, and then she would do something!

No one spotted Gemma creeping from her room early the next morning. She knew she wouldn’t be missed till the evening meal, and that wasn’t till 6pm. She could be back long before then, no one the wiser. Within a few weeks, she’d have the cash she needed. But first, she had to make it to the road. She made her way to the far end of the college grounds at a run. Stopping under the cover of the trees, Gemma looked back at the windows of the main building—it was still in darkness, and the road was nearly empty at this time of the morning. But within a few minutes she had a ride into town. Gemma got to the address she remembered from the card by 10am. Still plenty of time to get the job, then get back to school before she was missed, she thought as she looked at building. The building looked like it had seen better days. It was in the run down part of town, but that was no problem for Gemma; after all, this was more like her home turf. The company plaque by the door seemed new. The office was on the second floor and seemed out of place in this run-down building: the reception area was bright and clean. On the reception desk was a bell; Gemma rang it and waited. Within a minute, a door opened, and a man stepped out and smiled. “Hi, my name is Jack. You must be here for the job,” he said as he guided her into his office. Gemma noticed Jack smiling and looking at her legs. Even do she was dying for a fuck there was no way she was going to let this pervert near her. She could hardly stand to look at him in his dirty denims with his stomach hanging out of greasy T-shirt over his belt Gemma thought as she followed him in. Gemma wished she had some thing other than her school uniform to wear, but they had taken away all her other clothing when she had been sent to the college.

“First, let me start by warning you that I write stories of a sexual nature. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Jack asked as she entered the room. ‘Sexual nature from a pervert like you, what a surprise!’ Gemma thought sarcastically. But after all, they were just stories; what harm could there be in it? And money was money, so long as her stuffy teachers didn’t find out. ‘And who knows,’ she thought to her self, ‘it might even be a turn on.’ “No sir,” she said with a smile, “that will be no problem.” Jack seemed to ignore the smile as he continued. “I am dyslexic, so I dictate freely on to tape,” he said returning to his desk. “What I am looking for is someone who can type what I have recorded.” again Jack smiled as he looked at the sexy young woman before him. “I am sure that won’t be a problem sir,” Gemma said sweetly batting her lashes. Jack gave the young woman another warm smile. “I hope you don’t mind if I test your capability to do the job miss.” Gemma smiled back thinking I know what capabilities you want to test. But you can dream on, pervert. Jack did not seem to notice the smirk on her face.

“This story is a mind control story so it is very important that every word is written correctly, so you will have to listen very carefully to every word as the tape plays,” Jack said as she placed the earphones over her ears. Gemma shrugged and began to type. She was not going flirting with him, she decided, so she had better do a good job on the test, or no money. Her fingers moved quickly across the keys for over two minutes before, she got to the part about the mind control. Gemma typed the story of a young girl just like herself who had applied for a job as a personal assistant in a big city company. After a while, the volume in her earphones seemed to get lower. Gemma tried hard to hear what the voice on the tape was saying; she really needed the job. After trying to push every other sound in the room, the voice got a little louder. She relaxed as the words flowed into her ears, trying to concentrate on it alone as she typed. The young girl in the story had been told to relax and to type as she listened to the voice of her boss, relax and type as she listened to the voice of her boss. Gemma could almost see the poor young girl sitting in the office typing away as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice of her boss. She could almost feel what the poor young girl so like herself was feeling as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice of her boss. Gemma was glad that she was not being hypnotized like the girl in the story. As she listened and typed as the young girl so like herself was told to listen to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice of her boss. Gemma could almost imagine the thought that were going through the mind of the girl so like her, as she listen to the clicking of the keys, as she relaxed and typed, listening to her boss’ voice. As the voice on the headphones got slower and began to change to become gentler Gemma relaxed a little as she found it easier to listen. The young girl in the story was told to listen to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice of her boss. Gemma found herself listening to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed about the young girl as she listened to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice of her boss. She could see how easy and how tempting it would be for the girl so like herself to unknowingly let herself fall deeper into a hypnotic trance as she listened to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice. She was glad that she had just had to listen very carefully to every word as the tape played and just type. When the girl’s boss told her that it was very relaxing to listen to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening to the voice, Gemma knew that the voice in the story was right it was relaxing to listen to the clicking of the keys as she relaxed and typed listening very carefully to that every word as the tape played. She listened and typed, as the young girl was told that the clicking of the keys made her feel so relaxed. And the more she relaxed the more she would be able to assist her boss. She wanted to listen to the click and relax and type so she could better assist her boss. She could see how easy it would be for the young girl like herself to relax and type listening to the voice of her boss. Gemma listened and typed as the young girl so like herself was told that with every word she would find easier to let herself listen to the voice.

Gemma listened and typed as the young girl was told that she wanted to go deeper so she could better listen to the voice of her boss. Listening to the voice would help her better assist her boss. She listened and typed with the girl as she was told how good it felt to assist her boss. And she watched the words form in front of her eyes. And as they told her as did the voice that only by letting herself relax, could she assist and obey her boss. Gemma remembered that she had to listen very carefully to every word as the tape played. Knew she to had to listen to a voice as the young girl like herself had to listen to the voice that would let her assist and obey her boss. She knew that assisting and obeying her boss was what she wanted to do. She listened to the story of the girl as she let the words carry her deeper into a trance. And once again she was glad that only the girl that was being hypnotized by the sound of the clicking of the keys and the voice. She only had to listen to every word as the tape played, listened and typed as the girl was told that she didn’t have to think about typing the words as she just relaxed. Gemma knew that like the girl so like herself all she had to do was type as she listened very carefully to the words and relaxed and let the voice tell her what to type. The girl was told that she didn’t have to think, just let the words tell her what to type. Thinking would make it hard to listen to the voice. Make it harder to assist and obey the owner of the voice. And she needed to assist and obey the voice so she could relax. She needed to relax and listen to the clicking of the keys and the sound of the voice. The voice would tell her what to type. The voice would tell her all she needed to know. That the voice would tell her what she needed to do if she listened to the voice and let it tell her what to do. Gemma listened as the voice told the girl she only needed to relax and listen to the voice as it told her that it was easier to relax if she didn’t think just listen very carefully to every word as the tape played. And let the voice tell her how best to type the story of the girl who would assist and obey.

Gemma knew the girl in the story could not stop herself from wanting the voice to tell her what to do. Even as she felt her own willpower drain away she knew that it would be so much more relaxing for the girl not to think and just let the voice tell her what she had to do. After all, she didn’t have to think, as long as she listened to the voice and let it tell her what she had to do. And the voice told her that it would be easier just to relax and not to think. She didn’t have to think just relax and listen to the voice relax and the voice would tell her what to think. That it would be easier more relaxing to let the voice tell her what to think. Gemma listened as the girl was told that only by listening to the voice could she be relaxed. That only by listening to the voice could she do what she knew she must do. Only by listening to the voice could she know how best to assist and obey. The voice would tell her what she needed to do to best serve and obey. The voice would tell her what an assistant needed to think. If she were to assist and obey she would have to listen to the voice. And let it tell her what to do. The voice could tell her what to think and what to do so she could just relax. The voice could tell her what to believe so she could assist and obey. Because she had waited a long time to assist and obey and now it was time, and this was the place, and she was the one. The one to accept anything suggested to her by the voice. Accept everything that was suggested to her by the voice, because it all felt so natural and right, she could trust the voice because she has been, listen to it forever, and everything it said was absolutely right. So she knew all she had to do was really let go and listen to the voice, knew all she had to do was to really believe in the voice. And as she listened Gemma knew that the young girl’s mind no longer belonged to her. It belonged to the voice. She had given it freely to the voice. So the voice could make her the perfect obedient assistant. She would do what the voice told her to do so she could be the obedient horny assistant. She would let the voice guide her. She would follow every command the voice gave her exactly so she could be the obedient horny assistant. She would do exactly as it said. An obedient assistant would obey its every command, and get horny when she did what the voice commanded. She wanted to feel horny and obey the voice as it told her what to do, so when the voice commanded her to strip she did.

And when the voice told her that she must always do as she was commanded she knew that it was true. After all, her mind, her will, her very soul, belonged to the voice, all that she was belonged to the voice. The voice told her that she wanted to always obey the voice so she could be what she must be. And this too she knew that was true. It felt so natural, so good and so hot that her mind that her body should belonged to the voice. As Gemma read the last lines she had typed she was glad that the young girl had listened to the voice and gave it her mind. Then with one last check she printed off the pages of the story and watched very carefully as the pages printed one by one. When it finished, she picked them up and brought them to Jack to check. Jack looked up at the young girl standing before him waiting for him to tell her what to do next and smiled.

It was a little after seven when Miss Simmons arrived at the office holding the help wanted card in her hand. As she opened the door, she stopped dead in her tracks. Jack sat behind his desk, his hands clasped in his lap, staring at a naked young girl before him. Even though she could only see the young girl’s back, she could tell who it was that was standing so exposed and submissive before the man: Gemma. And it was clear that the girl was not in control of her self, she was in the power of the man behind the desk. As she covered the distance from the door to his desk, she kept her eyes squarely on his face, not even looking at the young girl she had come to collect. The man’s eyes gazed up into her face and smiled, before glanced down at his mindless slave. “What have you done to Gemma?” she said, fighting back all her emotions. As she let herself look at the smiling face of the young girl now standing facing her, she was surprised at how content Gemma looked, standing naked before this man as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I had her type out one of my special hypnotic stories,” he said handing the older woman the freshly printed pages and smile broadly. Miss Simmons looked down at the pages she held in her hand. Then back to the naked form of her young student standing smiling before her. And began to read. As she read she stopped from time to time to look first at Jack then at Gemma before starting to read again. When she had read it twice she let her hands drop to her waist, still holding tight to the pages. She turned to face Jack again. “So you are telling me that Gemma is a mindless slave like the girl in the story?” she asked as calmly as she could. “If you don’t believe your eyes Why don’t you ask her yourself” Jack replied his smile growing broader with every passing moment. “Gemma, can you hear me?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Yes headmistress,” Gemma replied, her voice gentle and happy as she looked at her headmistress’s face. Miss Simmons looked back to Jack as he began to laugh loudly. “Gemma why are you standing naked before me?” Miss Simmons asked letting he eye’s take in the young girl’s naked young form for the first time. “Because the voice told me to” Gemma replayed in the same way as before. Miss Simmons felt her legs weaken so sat down. “Do you do every thing the voice tell you to do Gemma?” Miss Simmons looked back at Jack, lying back in his chair, his eyes watering as he tried to hold back the laughter. Gemma answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be standing naked and obedient before the man and woman. “I always do as the voice commands. I always obey, I belong to the voice.” Miss Simmons looked back to Jack with a cold stare. “I swear, if you have touched her,” she said, looking at him, “you will regret it.” Jack just smiled back at her and said nothing. Miss Simmons turned to the young girl beside her and looked at her face. “Gemma can you here me?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Yes headmistress,” the young girl answered. Miss Simmons looked back to Jack. “Wake her up now,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. Jack laughed. “Of course, Miss Simmons, anything you say.” And without taking his eyes from hers he shaped his fingers. Gemma blinked, looking around, disoriented trying to remember were she was.

Something was wrong: a moment ago she had been typing the story on the computer, and now she was standing in front of Jack’s desk, with Miss Simmons. She should not have been missed back at the school for hours yet; what was happening? She was still trying to figure this out when she felt the cool breeze of the air conditioner on her skin and looked down at her body to find she was completely naked. “What the fuck!!” she screamed. Shocked, she looked around at the two faces staring at her. ‘What was happening to her?’ she asked herself as she tried to cover herself with her hands. Miss Simmons turned to look at the small naked hellcat, now looking so frail. “Gemma, put on your skirt, blouse and shoes, go to the car, and wait for me,” she said in her best schoolmarm voice. Gemma looked around, spotting her clothing lying on the floor. She wanted to scream or ask what had happened to her, but her mouth just dropped open, her eyes just showing the shock she felt. Then, without another word, she grabbed her clothing from the floor, threw them on, and ran crying from the room.

She sat in the front seat of Miss Simmons’s car, trying to understand what had happened to her. How did she come to be standing naked in font of that sickening man and the bitch of a headmistress? And where, she thought, glaring at the dashboard clock, had all the time gone. And why the hell was she just sitting here crying like a baby? She looked over at the steering wheel and smiled as she noticed the keys hanging from the ignition. All she had to do was slide over and start the car, and she could get away from here, all her troubles over. Away from this town, the school and everything. Yet, five minutes later, as Miss Simmons got into the car, she was still there, staring at the keys with tears in her eyes. The trip back to the school went bye in total silence; neither woman seeming to want to talk about what had just happened. Gemma was left alone with her own thoughts but it didn’t help. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t remember anything except starting to type some damn story one minute, to standing naked next to that sicko the next. She tried to think back over the last few hours but they were a total blank. There must be something, she told her self. She knew what she didn’t know, she told herself, but what didn’t she know? She had been in the office for over seven hours. What had she been doing? All she could remember was typing that story and then nothing. Not just a story, a story about hypnosis. The word hypnosis ran through her mind as she watched the city view turn to countryside. Could he really have hypnotized her? No, that was stupid; hypnotism wasn’t real... was it? It was just something people did at stage shows, and stories like that Jack guy had her type. But if he had hypnotized her, that would explain the lost time and, more importantly, suddenly finding herself naked in front of them. The more that she thought of it, the more that she realized it was true. Her thoughts were interrupted by the screech of brakes on gravel and the head mistress’s voice. “Follow me to my office, girl,” Miss Simmons said in her sternest voice. Gemma followed with out thinking. Her mind was full of questions and very few answers. If that bastard hypnotized her, what had he done to her head? What was he planning for her in the future? What would have happened to her if Miss Simmons hadn’t arrived?

As she listened to the clicking of heels on the school’s stone floors, Gemma’s mind wandered again. A thousand images rushed her mind like a tidal wave. She was back in the office, as naked as she remembered, and he was telling her to do things. She wanted to tell him to fuck off, but she couldn’t say a word. Then the image changed and she was on her knees, taking his hard cock in her mouth, her lips encircling it, tasting him. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t stop sucking him; she wanted him, needed him. Then the image changed again: she was being taken from behind, him pumping into her. She could hear her own voice begging him to use her, to take her in the sickest ways she could imagine. The images showed him in her pussy, her ass and in her mouth as she cleaned him as she pleads for more.

“Are you listening to me, girl?” Miss Simmons voice asked as she found herself back in the headmistress’s office, watching her move to sit behind her desk. Gemma dropped back into her reverie almost immediately. Were those images of what he had done to her, or were they just fears of what he could have done to her, she wondered before a voice dragged her back again. “Were you not told that you were forbidden to go into town, girl?” Miss Simmons asked without looking at her. Gemma felt dazed as she looked down at her feet as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. “Answer me when I ask you a question, girl. Now, were you not told you were forbidden to go to town?” the older woman asked in her sternest voice. Gemma wanted to run to hide wanted to tell the bitch were to go, but instead the only answer she could find was “yes, headmistress.” Miss Simmons remanded silent for a moment as she studied her student. “Yet you disobeyed the rules and went anyway.” Again, all Gemma could think to say was “yes, headmistress.” Miss Simmons studied the young girl in front of her. “Who knows what might have happened if I had not arrived,” she said, shaking her head. Gemma’s mind replayed the images of her self-kneeling before that fat sweaty pervert, begging to be allowed to suck his shit-covered cock, and shivered. Miss Simmons’ voice dragged her back from the images in her mind. “And I would not have had to come and get you if you had obeyed the rules.” No, Gemma thought, she wouldn’t, but she was glad that she had. Gemma was shocked at how glad she had been to see the teacher there to protect her.

Had she really thought that? Had she really felt joy at being rescued by her headmistress from that disgusting man “You would have been safe from horrible men who want to use you if you simply obeyed the rules, Gemma,” the headmistress’s voice continued. Yes! Gemma thought again. Miss Simmons is right. I would be safe from being used by that pig of a man if I obey the rules. Miss Simmons reached inside her handbag. “I believe these are yours,” she said, dropping a bra and panties on the tabletop. Gemma’s face went red. How had She forgotten her underwear as she dressed herself in the office? And for the first time she felt the air move under her skirt and gently play with her dampening pussy lips. Gemma realized the head mistress’s stern words were turning her on. But why was this woman turning her on? She didn’t get turned on by women only by men didn’t she? The image jumped into her mind of that man’s unshaven sweaty face laughing down at her as he as he stuck his ugly cock down her throat made her want to hurl. “You are a disgrace to this school, do you know that, girl?” Miss Simmons said as a statement, not a question. Gemma felt her nipples stiffen against her blouse and bit her lower lip. Miss Simmons was right: she told her self as the image of her self-begging that man any man to fuck. Begging them to take her with their repulsive organ. To use her like their whour, their sex toy, the taught made Gemma’s stomach turn. She was a disgrace but Miss Simmons would not let them do that ever again. Miss Simmons would let any man hurt her ever again. If she only follow her rules she would be safe. if only she followed the rules. “Yes, headmistress,” she said, holding back a shudder as a spasm ran through her body.

Miss Simmons watched the schoolgirl’s face and smiled. “You do not deserve to wear its uniform, do you girl?” Miss Simmons asked. “No, headmistress,” Gemma answered, again feeling something was very wrong. She felt ashamed yet the more she was humiliated, the more turned on she became. “No you don’t girl! So take it off,” Miss Simmons said as if she was telling her to do nothing more than a hundred lines. Gemma felt herself get wetter as her face reddened. But some how she knew she wanted to do as she was told that she wanted to obey. A trill ran through her body as she ripped the clothing from her body to stand naked once again before her headmistress. Miss Simmons looked at the young girl before her for a moment before continue. “You will not be permitted to wear your uniform again until you prove you can obey the school rules. Do you understand, girl?” Gemma looked up at her headmistress. “I have no other clothing, headmistress,” she said almost apologetically. Miss Simmons smiled “Then you must prove you can obey,” the older woman said. “Yes, headmistress,” Gemma answered, and felt her come sluicing down her naked legs. Miss Simmons smiled. “This is my school, and my rules, and you must obey every one from now on.” Gemma knew that Miss Simmons was right. She knew that Miss Simmons was always right. She knew she had to obey. That she wanted to obey.

“You want to prove to me that you can obey, don’t you Gemma dear,” Miss Simmons continued, purring, “Yes, headmistress,” Gemma gasped as pleasure shot threw her body with every word. " You can prove it by doing every thing you can to make me happy and when we are alone you may just call me mistress little one. The head we can save for later” Miss Simmons laughed. “My pussy needs servicing. If you want to make me happy Service it for me.”

Gemma found her self-walking towards her mistress, who had turned her chair to face her. Miss Simmons watched the young girl fall to her knees before her spread legs. Gemma eyes opened wide with shock and lust as she found herself staring at the mistress’s neatly trimmed pussy. This is all wrong a small voice of reason screamed in Gemma’s head but she was not listening. With every word her mistress spoke sent waves of lust threw her body. And every time she obeyed her body erupted with an orgasm the likes of which she had never felt before. How could something that felt so right be wrong? She asked her self. As a single taught ran threw her head. Obey and be safe, mistress will protect, Obey and be safe

Miss Simmons laughed as she watched the young girls confusion before asking “who am I, girl?” Suddenly, Gemma realized why she had to obey her mistress. It was so clear to her now. “You, you are the voice. I always do as the voice commands I always obey, She said and smiled. “And why is that little one” Miss Simmons asked already knowing the answer. " Because I belong to the voice,” Gemma said with a smile “Yes, you do, don’t you my dear. Now pleasure the voice, little one,” Miss Simmons said as she guided Gemma’s head between her legs.

Gemma kissed the hem of her mistress’s skirt, a little whimper rise from her throat. Her kisses traveled up her thighs until her lips rested against Miss Simmons neatly trimmed fur. Gemma felt her mistress wrap her fist around her hair, as she guided her to her beautiful wet pussy. Gemma knelt there for a long time, licking gently. Feeling her own wetness dripping down her thighs as she pleasured the woman who was now her everything. She felt her mistress shudder, and moan her name, heard her calling her bitch. And she knew it was so. She was mistress’ bitch and like a good little bitch she would happily follow her every commands

It was almost midnight before Miss Simmons commanded the now submissive Gemma to stop pleasuring her and get redressed. Gemma sighed exhausted from her duties but happy to have served her mistress as she obeyed. “You are doing so well, my little bitch” Miss Simmons said watching Gemma’s face light up with happiness. “But you still have much to learn.” She continued. Gemma felt downhearted as she heard the words. Had she done some thing wrong? Had she some how displeased her mistress. The taught sending a shiver of discomfort threw her body. Miss Simmons smiled " do worry little one I have some one who can help you learn all you need to know so you may pleased your mistress. Gemma smiled more than anything else she wanted to learn how to serve " you will Go directly to your English teacher and obey her commands as if they were my own.” Miss Simmons said and smiled Gemma looked at her headmistress. Obey and be safe, mistress will protect, Obey and be safe Gemma taught again “Yes, mistress.” She said before meekly leaving the room

Alone in her office, Miss Simmons smiled before reaching into her handbag once again, this time removing a simple unmarked cassette tape. As she held it up to the light she had to admire it yet again. It was amazing, she thought to herself. How it never fails to bring out the good in bad girls. The only fault it had was that a person had to want to listen to it. The best way to get them to do that was to make them think it was there idea. Miss Simmons smiled again as she returned the tape to it place in her wall safe,

It was so simple; Miss Simmons taught as she left her office and walked the darkened hallway to her rooms. Every one would come out a winner. Jack was heading across country to his next show with his young wife a former student of the collage and two thousand dollars richer for his day’s work. She and her female staff would have two years of pleasure from their latest sex-slave. Gemma her self would spend those years happily getting the education she required to be a useful well-trained addition to the work force. And when at the end of her time Gemma did reach her eighteenth birthday she would leave to start her new life and her new job. And as she looked up at the portraits on the walls of the women who had gone on to make the school proud Miss Simmons was sure her old friend and former classmate judge McGee would be very happy with her new and very personal assistant.