The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jasmine recalled movies and TV shows where couples argued during a night out and then rode in awkward, painful, stressful silence on the way home.

The silence on her ride home with Devon, however, was not awkward, painful, or stressful. She thought he might outline whatever consequences he’d landed on for her transgression, but he didn’t. She didn’t pick up on any anger from her Master, but she kept quiet until he spoke, just a couple of blocks from their building.

“What did you think of my parents?” he asked.

Her lips parted, readying to respond. Any question from her Master should be answered, and considered as good as a command. But her mind was too slowed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know it’s…especially after the day you’ve had.” He laughed to himself and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “You’re not expected to have opinions, especially not on the fly like that. I guess I just wanted to vent about them.”

“Your mother was kind,” Jasmine replied at last.

He laughed again. “Everyone thinks of her as the shrew who divorced my dad, but I’ll tell you, I’d never seen her happier than when she finally left him. And do you know what else people think?” He looked at her as they waited at a red light.

“No, Master.”

“That I get my shrewdness, my thoughtfulness, my everything, from my father. Because he’s the one who heads a Forbes 100 company. But he’s just been coasting along, doing whatever the board or I suggest, for years. Decades, in the case of the board. He’s content to let things run themselves. And that’s fine. But I resent that he’s been able to keep this image when he’s done nothing to maintain it, and barely anything to earn it in the first place.”

Jasmine watched her owner as he spoke, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“It all came from her,” he said, pointing in the vague direction of the building they’d driven from. “The unwillingness to settle into an expected life, to settle for a bad deal from our company’s business partners. To settle for anything less than what I want.” He reached out and gripped her chin. “You understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“Good girl.” He released her and resumed driving. “Take the cuffs out of the glove compartment and put them back in your purse.”

This time, she knew better than to hesitate. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she obeyed the command, zipping the clutch shut when she was finished. Just in time for him to pull up to the lobby of the building. Cesar hurried out to greet them.

“Welcome back, Mr. Devon!” he exclaimed as Devon and Jasmine exited the car. He took the keys from Devon and nodded to Jasmine. “Miss Jasmine.” He paused, and she thought he might have recognized something in her that he hadn’t seen before, but she could also tell he had no idea what it was, what it meant that her eyes looked the way they did, or the way her smile wasn’t quite the same as an ordinary woman’s. But just like Devon had pointed out earlier, it didn’t matter. If he knew, if he didn’t know. What could he do? She smiled. “Have a good rest of your evening,” he said, breaking eye contact from her with a subtle blush.

“You too, Cesar,” Devon said, wrapping an arm around Jasmine and leading her inside.

She felt a little bit like a purebred dog being brought in from a walk.

In the elevator, Devon was quiet again, not even acknowledging her presence. She held her purse to her front, feeling the cuffs through the fabric. Her fingers twitched, and she remembered how naked she’d felt when she’d first taken them off before leaving the penthouse. It felt so long ago now.

“After you,” he said as the elevator arrived at their floor. It wasn’t out of politeness or deference; after all, he preceded her in almost every way. But like a dog on her leash, her owner might sometimes prefer she walk ahead, especially if there was something he didn’t want her to see.

She waited by the door to the penthouse, and he unlocked it. “Go on.”

She stepped inside, keeping her back straight and her eyes forward. He took his time behind her. She heard the shifting of fabric, the opening of the foyer closet door, and guessed that he was taking off his jacket. He removed her wrap as well, and she heard him hanging both of them up. All the while, she stood still as a mannequin, her clit throbbing so hard she swore it was liable to jump right out of her.

He unzipped her dress and for the second time that day, her clothes fell to the floor at her feet, inches from the front door, leaving her with just her heels. But this time, she wasn’t terrified or confused. The anticipation of whatever he might be planning was eating her alive. Whatever it was, whether she would enjoy it or not, she wanted him to get on with it. But her slave mind also wanted him to use her in whatever way he wanted. Even if that meant keeping her as still as she was. Even if it meant not saying a word to her, though she longed to hear his voice again.

“Purse, Jasmine.”

There it was. She let herself smile slightly when he spoke, and handed it to him without turning to face him, because he hadn’t told her to. He unzipped it, then there was shuffling as he must have put it in the closet. He took her hands without asking, and fastened the cuffs to each of her wrists, then crouched down and fastened the remaining two to her ankles. And just like that, her mind forgot how buckles worked again, shuffling the knowledge into a corner that she no longer had access to, until and if he needed her to take them off once more.

She would never not be his slave, but she was only truly at home if she was wearing the cuffs.

Finally, he walked around to face her, and met her eyes. “Let’s go downstairs, shall we?”

It was cruel of him not to elaborate further than that, but then, he was her Master. He had every right to be cruel. “Yes, Sir.”

She walked over the dress and followed him down the stairs, chin raised, hands clasped behind her back, chest pushed forward. She paused briefly at the bedroom door, but he walked past it, and she followed him to a different bedroom.

She tried to keep her face placid, but she couldn’t help but betray some confusion as she faced the door of her programming room. Just hours ago, he’d told her that her conversion was complete.

But she said nothing, knowing better now.

“You’re a good girl, Jasmine,” he said. “I mean it.” He opened the door. “Go sit.”

The former spare bedroom had been remodeled to allow him easy access to her mind. A table and chair were the only furniture, with chains he could use to tie down her arms and legs and compel her to face a screen on the wall. There were also chains on the opposite wall, in case he’d rather restrain her that way.

She loved this room; it was stark, free of distractions or personality, but it was where she’d learned almost everything he’d taught her. But she also felt ashamed that she’d done something to make him want to use it now. She kept her eyes down as she went to the table and sat down at the chair, positioning her wrists and ankles near the chains.

Devon wordlessly came to her once she was sitting and clipped the chains to her cuffs. She let out a small hum of contentment, and he kissed her cheek.

“I’d been thinking long and hard about how to address your misstep, he said, crouched next to her. She kept her eyes on the as-yet blank screen, knowing that would be expected of her unless he directed her otherwise. “I wasn’t mad, mind you, just taken off guard, and I knew it would need to be addressed. After all, I thought we were past this.” He ran a finger along her exposed thigh, getting closer to her sex. “I thought I’d have to start the whipping protocol earlier than planned, maybe delay the conditioning that would help you enjoy it.” She took in a sharp breath. Even without conditioning, it would be hard for her not to inherently enjoy any act from her Master. “That felt wrong, though. But then talking to Tasha’s mother, when she tried to convince me that you and I just had to have a baby,” he chuckled, “it got me thinking. I’m responsible for you now, Jasmine. Your body, your mind, it all belongs to me.” He said it so casually, like he was explaining what day of the week it was. “And it would be wrong of me to punish you because I didn’t do a good enough job conditioning you not to be too self-conscious to follow my orders.” He adjusted himself to lean in closer to her. “So I’ve accepted that your programming may be a more ongoing endeavor than I’d anticipated, even now that you’ve so thoroughly accepted your role. But that doesn’t sound so bad, does it, my slut?”

“No, Sir,” she breathed, her clit hardening between her legs.

“You like being my little trance whore, don’t you?” His voice took on that deliciously sinister tone that couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes, Sir.” She smiled, but kept her eyes on the screen. She heard him take the remote to control the projector.

“Maybe you disobeyed me so that I’d put you in a trance again. But we both know you’re not smart enough for that kind of strategy anymore, don’t we?”

“No, Sir.” An image of a paused video appeared on the screen. Her arms tightened in excited anticipation for the moment she would fall into the deep hole where Devon could play with her head.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We both know that you’re nothing but a simple little cumslut who exists to serve. And you’re so very, very good at it. But tonight has taught me that you’ll always be a glorious little work in progress. There are always going to be ways I can make you a better slave. And I think, despite your misbehavior, we can both agree that’s a lovely thing.”

She frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I didn’t…” She blinked. “I wanted to be perfect, Master. I want to be…” It was the only thing in the entire world she was sure that she wanted.

“Shh. Shh.” He kissed her temple. “You are perfect, Jasmine. Because you belong to me. That makes you perfect already. You don’t have to be complete to be perfect. As long as you let yourself be open to your owner, you will be the perfect slave. And you are so, so open, Jasmine. My night-blooming flower. Not a single speck of you is hidden from me, is it?”

“No, Master.” She relaxed in her chair.

He pressed play, and the screen started playing a repeating video of a Newton’s cradle, five marbles hanging from a metal frame. His favorite induction method to use on her, which now turned her mind to jelly almost immediately. “Watch the marbles, Jasmine,” Devon said, using his soothing hypnotic voice. “Watch them sway back and forth. Every time one marble hits the rest, you feel yourself getting more and more relaxed, more and more open to my instructions.”

Whenever Devon hypnotized her, Jasmine felt like her atoms were floating farther and farther apart, like her essence was being spread across the length of the universe. But she knew that Devon had complete control over every atom, able to move them and arrange them in whatever way suited him. It was such a wonderful feeling to have him at the peak of his control, for all choices and free will to be completely taken from her. If he told her she would have to live the rest of her life in this state, she would have no objections. If she had the capacity to complain, her only one would be that in this state, she couldn’t feel the cuffs very well.

“I’m going to count back from ten, Jasmine. With every number, you’ll fall further into trance, and when I reach one, you’ll be completely under my power, unaware of anything in existence except my voice and touch.” He took a breath. “Ten…nine…”

She fell down, down, floating like Alice in the rabbit hole, with no concern for when the fall would end or what she would find when it did. That was so far out of the purview of her concern now.

“…three…two…one.”

If someone were watching them, they wouldn’t know anything had changed. “Can you hear me, Jasmine?” Devon asked.

“Yes.”

“Can you hear or see the marbles?”

“No.” It was like her eyes and ears were no longer capable of processing it.

“Very good.” He massaged the top of her spine gently with his thumb. “You don’t need to see them once you’re in your trance. You used to, didn’t you? But not anymore, because you’ve grown so much. You’ve become the perfect hypnotic thrall, and you enjoy so much being in this state, being so relaxed.”

She was too enthralled to even murmur an agreement. To do anything, really, except follow a direct order and to listen to whatever words her owner wanted to fill her with.

“You feel relaxed because you know I’m right here with you, leading you with my voice and my touch. You’re so weak and it’s so nice to know that you have me to claim and care for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s good, Jasmine. And I am so lucky to have such a good slave, such a malleable, pliant girl at my side. Now, Jasmine, I want you to imagine yourself following me to the storage facility. You remember it?”

“Yes.”

“What is it? Tell me, so I know that you understand.”

She swallowed to prepare herself to speak more than usual. “It’s my mind.”

“And what did it look like the first time I brought you here?”

Three months ago, when Devon had started taking her apart in preparation to put her back together again, he had chosen a brilliantly simple way for her to understand her own psyche, and the way it would now exist under his command. Her owner was so smart, so perfect. And he’d picked her to be his slave, out of everyone in the entire world.

“There were so many units, and they were all open…” she took a breath. “Disorganized. Things…” she winced, “spilling out of the rooms, into the halls. Had to step over them, had to…”

“Shh,” he soothed her with a gentle pat on her hand. “That’s alright, Jasmine. That’s enough. You did well, and I know you understand. Tell me, then, what happened once I showed you this place. What did you give me?

“The keys.”

“And what did I do with them?”

“You took over.” And how wonderful that had been. He’d cleaned up all the rooms, organized everything.

“That’s right. And now, none of it is your responsibility anymore. I have the keys. I decide which doors are open, and which ones are shut and beyond your access. I decide what items go inside each of them. I decide what should stay, and what should go away forever. Why do I have the right to do that, Jasmine? Why did you give the keys to me?”

“Because you own me.” Her clit pulsed when she said it. Just as he’d taught her, thinking about her subservience to him always brought her a burst of arousal.

“Good. My beautiful, obedient girl. I want you to walk down those walls. All of the doors are closed and locked when you’re in your trance, Jasmine. The lights are dim and warm and the floors are covered in soft carpets. It’s so peaceful and quiet now that it’s all cleaned up. You don’t feel any sort of regret or discomfort at knowing that you can’t open any of them yourself, or that you no longer have any control over what happens to their contents. You know it’s right that I can do with each room as I see fit. You don’t mind that I could get rid of all of it, and leave you as nothing but an empty shell.”

She shivered, thinking of herself as an immobilized doll.

“Because you are so much happier being owned than you ever were being free, aren’t you, Jasmine?” Devon went on.

“Yes.”

“The happiness consumes you. It follows you out of your trance. It’s an invisible blanket that you always have with you. But tonight, Jasmine,” his voice lowered, “something tried to keep you from me. Something tried to pull that happiness out from under you. And that thing has a name. Do you know what it’s called?”

“No.” Her throat was tight.

“It’s called doubt, Jasmine.” He spoke the word in a way that made her unsure if she’d ever even heard it before. “Doubt is a creeping, tenacious thing. It is very difficult to contain, because it can hide and spread. Its purpose is not to help you or protect you. Its purpose is to keep you from me, keep you from submitting to me completely the way you should be. You want to submit to me completely, don’t you, Jasmine?”

“Yes.”

“That’s right.” Another stroke, this one harder and more possessive. “By closing off so much of your mind, I’ve been able to get rid of most of that doubt, but your mind, that facility, is a labyrinth, and both you and I may never be able to explore every inch of it, not completely. You’ve given me all the keys that you’ve found, but there’s at least one more that’s missing. One more door we need to shut. I want you to continue walking down those corridors. I want you to look closely. All the doors look closed, and most of them are, but there may be one you missed. And that’s okay. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m here to help you, but you must do as I say. I want you to check to make sure the doors are really closed. There may be one opened just a crack, or one with the key still stuck in the lock.”

She imagined herself in the corridor, just as he commanded, twisting and turning as she walked. She wouldn’t have been able to find her way back to the beginning if she tried, but that was okay. Her Master was with her.

“Do you see it, Jasmine?”

As if his words had manifested it into being, she stopped in front of a large door, and looked down. She knew it didn’t exist, but it was as real to her as the real room she was sitting in. The door was cracked, just a hair, just enough for her to see its thin shadow on the floor.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a door.” She couldn’t help the guilt in her voice. How could she have missed it? She’d promised to give him everything. “It’s open, just a little.”

“It’s alright, Jasmine,” he soothed. “It’s alright. It’s not easy to catch every door. You’re doing so well, my little fucktoy. You’re making your Master so proud. Trust is so important, and just as you trust me to have complete control over you, I know I can trust you to give me every speck of yourself that you can find. Do you want to give me everything, Jasmine?”

“Yes.” Even in her trance, her voice cracked.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to have.”

“Everything.” Her tone was monotonous, but the pulsing in her sex was like a constant alarm that wouldn’t stop until he gave her release. It made the space between her legs feel heavy, as if it too was weighed down by chains. “I want you to have everything.”

“What’s everything? Everything in the world?” he teased.

He did deserve it, but she knew what he meant. “Everything I am. All of me. I want…I need you to control me.”

“Why?” His voice was so heavy with desire. It slithered around her like a thick fog, seeping into her pores and making the faint hairs on her arms stand on end. “Why do you need me to control you?”

“Because I’m weak. I need to belong. I need to be controlled.” He’d shown her that, how incomplete her life was when she was free. “I need to be owned.”

“By whom?” he asked.

“By you.”

“Why?”

“Because you control me. You hypnotize me.” The circular logic may have bothered her once, but it didn’t anymore. It was a loop she had no interest in escaping. He controlled her and made her weak and entranced, so she needed him to keep controlling her, because she was so weak and entranced. As long as she could be controlled so easily, she simply could not be free, and no one else could take care of her like him, because no one else could control her like him.

“Good girl. Such a good girl. You’ve come so far.” If she’d had her wits about her, she might have been more aware of how obvious it was that he wanted to fuck her right then and there. But he was a good Master, and he was able to focus on the task at hand. “I want you to open that door for me. You’ll let me do whatever I want with the contents, won’t you? Whatever I need to do.”

“Yes.”

“Open it.”

She pictured herself leaning down, bending at the waist of course, like he taught her to, and lifting the door with a loud clang. “It’s open, Master.”

“Good. It’s dark in there, isn’t it? So dark. The doubt is a solid thing, infecting the walls. Like a thick, monstrous black goo.” He clasped his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to take a match, Jasmine, and I’m going to set it all on fire. You’ll feel the warmth and find it so comforting to know that it’s all turning to ash. Can you feel it, Jasmine?”

“Yes.” The Devon in her mind lit the match, and threw it onto the goo. She knew it was literally all in her head, but it really did feel like she was standing just a few feet away from a warm fire.

“It’s all gone now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. There’s a key on the floor, among the ash. You have to give it to me, Jasmine. I can’t take it from you. Lean down, pick it up, and hold it tightly in your hand.”

She bent over again, and swore she could feel her fingers brush against the ash and concrete, and the cold metal of the key in her hand. She held it in her left fist, which was tight on the table.

“Do you have it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “When you open your hand, Jasmine, I will take it, and this will be yet another part of you that will be under my control. And what I’m going to do is lock this room shut. It will never be opened again. You will never be able to access it again. What this means is that doubt will be another emotion you can no longer access. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Open your hand.”

She did. His hand brushed against her palm as he took the imaginary key, and she relaxed in her chair. Her mind manifested the sound of the door closing again, the lock clicking shut, and the image of her Master putting the key into his pocket. Out of her sight, and officially out of her mind.

“Good girl, my love,” he said, thick and honeyed. “My sweet, submissive pet.” He kissed her cheek and squeezed her shoulder. She was so wet and horny, but she was a good girl in her trance and she lacked the capacity to do anything about it, which only made her wetter and hornier.

She’d worried, at some point when she still could, when he told her she would always be horny once she was his, that it would get dull or boring. But she knew now that it wouldn’t. That would be like getting tired of eating, and the horniness she experienced now was just as full of variety as her meals. There were moments of quiet, blissful humming, and moments so intense she thought her heart would stop.

His hand slipped between her legs, and she knew he could immediately tell how aroused she was. He laughed. “Even in your little cunt, you’re a perfect, obedient slut. You love knowing you have no control over yourself, don’t you? You love knowing that your every thought, every desire, every movement, is mine to determine.”

“Yes.” She quivered in the chair. She’d wished, at first, that it was more comfortable, but now she saw the wisdom in using a fiberglass chair that was easy to clean. Her pussy juice was leaking all over.

“You’ve been such a good girl today, letting me and my friends break you in. You’ve cum for us so many times, let us use your slut holes so thoroughly. Is it difficult, being my sex slave?” His mirth was so palpable that she smiled too.

“No, Master.”

“How is it then, slut?” His tongue dragged along her cheek as he spoke the final word.

“It’s so easy. It’s so easy, Master. It’s so wonderful.” She wished he would allow her to look at him, to move so she could fully express her gratitude.

He danced his fingers idly along her soaked, bare sex. “I’m so glad you’re mine, Jasmine. I’m so glad that you’re happy. I will never let you go. I will never let you doubt what you are again. From now on, you will wake up every morning, live every second of your life, knowing exactly what you are. Mine.”

She sighed with pure happiness. If he ever changed his mind and wanted to play with her, wanted to make her forget again just to tease her, to make her submit to him again and again, that would be fine too. She wouldn’t hold him to this promise, but just the fact that he was making it let her know how secure she was in his hands, no matter how he wanted to use her.

“And I’m going to reward you, Jasmine. I’m not going to punish you. You’ve shown me your total commitment to your enslavement, and I know that I can trust you. You’ve been so obedient and submissive. When are you allowed to cum?”

“When you or the ones you lend me to cum first,” she recited.

“Good. And if we tell you not to?”

“Then I won’t.”

“What a good girl. So very good.” He pressed one finger against her slit. “Tonight, Jasmine, you’re going to cum for me one more time, here in this room. You won’t pleasure me. You won’t need to do anything for me. You simply need to stay in your trance, and let me play with your beautiful little clit until you climax.”

She nodded, to show that she understood. “Thank you, Master.”

“You’ve more than earned it. Just as you earned that cake after you took care of Tasha. Think of this as a second dessert.” Finally, he stuck his fingers into her ready, sopping slut cunt. “Do you like that, Jasmine?

“Yes,” she trilled.

“Relax, darling,” he crooned, hot butter in her ear. “Relax your entire body. Listen to my voice. Feel me inside of you. Fall deeper into your trance and let it enhance your pleasure. Down…down…down. We’re well past the storage facility that represents your mind. We’re well past any physical location. All that exists now is a comforting darkness, like a silk blanket on a thick bed, surrounding you and keeping you floating in space.”

His fingers found and circled her clit, and she thought she might collapse onto the table. She twitched in her restraints, and he laughed. “Ah, but you feel those, don’t you? Those leather cuffs, those symbols of my ownership of you. Even in black nothingness, they are there, restricting your movements, reminding you that you are owned. That at the end of the day, at the end of this day especially, you are nothing more than a plaything. You have no ambition, no free will, no ability to control any aspect of your life.”

Her lips were dry and she couldn’t press them together to try to remoisturize them. Her breathing was shallow as her abdomen tensed with the rising pleasure. “Little by little, day after day,” her Master went on, “you will forget what it was like to be free. You will know that you were, once, that there was a time when you didn’t know me, when I did not control you, but that period of your life will seem like a formless black void, even darker and more impenetrable than the one you’re in now, with no warmth or comfort when you think of it. Very quickly, every time, your mind will gloss over that former reality, and return you to your current, permanent one. Where all your needs are met, and where nothing is expected of you except your complete and total submission. You are comfortable there, and always happy.”

She let out a blissful, involuntary sigh. She didn’t feel the stiffness of the chair or the table. She didn’t feel anything except for the cuffs and her Master’s hand in her cunt and on her clit.

“You are so relaxed, Jasmine. Even with that tension in your gut of your rising orgasm, you are so very relaxed. Because you know there’s no need to be stressed anymore. I’ve taken it all away. All your worries, your responsibilities, your doubts, and your inhibitions. You’ll never have to deal with any of it again.” Something shifted, and then there was something else on her clit. Something small and hard that vibrated. She couldn’t help but gasp, almost losing her perfect slave composure. “Isn’t that so marvelous, Jasmine?”

“Yes…” she huffed, “…Sir.”

“This is what you were meant for,” he said, heavy with authority. “To be a toy. An object, that exists to be used and owned. A living fuckdoll that will take it in any of your slut holes. And only when you have been as good and used as much as you have been today will you be rewarded like this, and that doesn’t bother you at all, does it?”

“No,” she said. “No…no, Master, no.”

“No, that’s right, Jasmine. It doesn’t bother you. Because you don’t belong to yourself. You’re not a person anymore. A person has rights and autonomy, the ability to create their own destiny, at least to dream about their own destiny, and you do not.” She moaned. Her lower abdomen was tied into a knot. “So to be rewarded at my discretion only, to have me make that decision instead of you, that makes you happiest of all.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “But an orgasm certainly makes you happy too. Like the one you’re going to have…right now.”

The universe exploded.

She’d cum so many times that day, many little deaths in service of those who used her. Her owner and his friends who’d been given the right to play with her. That alone would have been enough to make her feel fulfilled. But now, especially after she’d thought she was in for a punishment, now her wonderful, generous Master was giving her pleasure with no expectation of anything from her. And that made the climax feel like something otherworldly, something that had shot up with a blast of fire and hydrogen from a launch platform. Something that had been the culmination of years of work.

In a way, it was. In a way, she knew, seeing her so blissful and turned on by her own submission was a reward for her owner and all he had done to condition her.

She could do so little to displease him, and that gave her another jolt as the fire within her began to smolder out. She jerked in the chair again. Her Master withdrew the vibrator and put his arms around her, stroking her sides, whispering calming words to her like she was a small, frightened animal. “Shh…what a good girl. It’s alright, you did so well. All day, you did so well. And you’re going to keep doing well. You’re going to keep being my perfect fuckdoll. Today was only the beginning.” He kissed her cheek and she shuddered. She felt like a ragdoll, limbs filled with cotton, unable to lift herself without help. “I’m going to count to ten, and you’re going to feel yourself floating back to me, more and more, until I reach the end. Understand?”

“Yes.” She could stay in her trance forever if he would allow it, and her existence was basically a mild trance now, but she knew there were things he couldn’t do to her in this particular deepened state.

“Good. One. Two…you’re leaving the black void, floating towards that storage facility. Three…four…you’re passing through it, and thinking about how peaceful it is, but also how nice it is that you don’t have to come back here any time soon.” She hummed, melting into his grip. “Five…six…starting to feel the chair under your ass, the table, under your arms.” She adjusted herself automatically. “Seven…eight…you’re starting to make out the marbles again, and slowly, the rest of the room. The walls. The ceiling. The speakers in the corners. Nine…the sensations of your own body, the stiffness of your position, anything other than pleasure, are coming back. And now, as we come to ten, you’re fully back to yourself.”

Jasmine blinked as if opening her eyes for the first time in hours. She did feel stiff from the restraints. But she wasn’t upset about that. Being locked into whatever position her owner chose was basically the whole point of her existence.

“Welcome back, Jasmine,” Devon said.

He didn’t ask her how she felt anymore when she came out of her trance. He used to do that, when he was first conditioning her, but at some point, he stopped. She assumed it was because once she started to change from Jasmine the free girl to Jasmine the sex slave, how she felt was incidental as long as her programming took. And besides, her Master knew her so well. He would know if she wasn’t completely and utterly happy, especially after being in his safe, wonderful trance. He didn’t need her to tell him. He just needed her to obey.

And she would. From now on, she knew, she always would, and nothing would stand in the way of that. Because from now on, if she ever encountered that awful doubt, instead of letting it stop her, she would remind herself that Devon could stamp it out in an instant. All she had to do was tell him, and he would take more of her away. More of those ever-shrinking parts of her that didn’t think she should be what she was.

“My little hypno-slut.” He cupped her chin and kissed her lips. “So warm and thoroughly used.” He unhooked her wrists, then her ankles. He helped her to her feet, and she wobbled, realizing her legs had fallen asleep. But Master lifted her in his arms, cradling her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rested her face into his chest. “You must be exhausted.”

“Yes,” she said, because she couldn’t lie, and if he wanted to use her anyway, her answer wouldn’t matter to him.

He carried her out of the programming room and down the hall to the bedroom. Their large bed looked so comfortable and inviting. He laid her down on her side of the mattress and knelt next to her, stroking her hair. “I remember, months and months ago, when I first told Sport what I planned to do to you, he asked me if it would just be easier to go to the corner sex store and buy a blow-up doll.” He laughed, and she looked up at him with her docile, sleepy eyes. “It would have been. Blow-up dolls are cheaper. They don’t get tired. Do they?”

“No, Sir.” Her voice sounded so far away.

He grinned. “Ah, but they also can’t say, ‘No, Sir.’ They can’t run their tongues and fingers along clits and cocks. They can’t be tied up and squirm and squeal and leak out pussy juice while they’re played with.” He hoisted himself up over the side of the mattress, and an instant later he was on top of her, holding her down by her wrists, his legs straddling her hips. Even if she wasn’t his slave, she’d have no energy to fight back. Maybe not even the desire. “So the question, really, isn’t why I’d want a hypnotized sex slave instead of a blow-up doll. It’s how to create a sex slave that is all the best parts of a human, and a blow-up doll. Because you can’t have it the other way around.”

She certainly felt like one in that moment, too spent to move or even to speak, her legs spread instinctively into a V-shape with her owner on top her.

He stroked her cheek one final time before settling next to her. “I know I don’t need to tell you what a good job you’ve done today. Because you know you have, and because you’ve been conditioned not to need constant praise. But I have a feeling I’ll be impressed with my own handiwork for awhile.” He stroked her side. “I never was very good at being modest.”

She turned to him, then, allowing herself to break the fantasy that she was an immobile sex doll, and cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked with a wry smile.

“You were modest, Master. Those women at the office always thought you were…” she trailed off, unable to think of the right verbiage for the women she used to work with, who tried to warn her against getting involved with him. At least words that didn’t run the risk of insulting him.

But he chuckled. “A deadbeat playboy? Fair enough. Let’s say that I’m immodest with the people I care about.” His eyes widened. “Oh, speaking of which. Wait here.”

As if she could do anything else. He got off the bed and ran out of the room. She heard his footsteps going up the stairs, and then back down again. He was back a minute later.

“I got a bit distracted with your impromptu session,” he said. She saw him in focus for the first time since they’d gotten home. His jacket was off, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and half-untucked from his trousers. Even only partially dressed from an evening out, her Master was gorgeous. Now, he held a small box in his hand, and he climbed onto the bed and placed it in front of her face. “Open it.”

She did, and her eyes widened. The earrings that Tasha had coveted.

“I couldn’t resist,” he said. “She’ll be furious if she finds out, but somehow that only made me want to get them for you even more.”

Jasmine fingered the earrings idly, wondering how this could affect her relationship with Tasha. It might not at all, if Tasha reacted reasonably and realized it had all been Devon’s decision. But someone as spoiled as Tasha couldn’t be relied on to react reasonably, and she might end up being jealous of Jasmine, being cruel to her, if she ever got to use her again. She might not like being reminded that Devon would dote on her, buy Jasmine something that she had specifically asked for.

But even if Tasha was cruel to her, Jasmine would be fulfilling her purpose. “Five thousand dollars,” he said. “And worth every penny.”

He reached in and unclipped one, held it up to the dim light. It looked like a small flowering branch, with yellow gold leaves inlaid with white diamond petals. She could see why Tasha had wanted them. She wondered how high the price had been driven before Devon got them, or if he’d made a deal to buy them out early. Either way, she never would have worn jewelry that cost anywhere close to that before.

Devon slid the earring into her lobe, held her chin and moved her head to view her from multiple angles. “Gorgeous.” He took it out, put it back in the box, and went into the closet. “You’ll definitely be wearing them on our next night out,” he said when he emerged.

“Thank you, Master,” she said. She couldn’t help looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.

He smiled slowly, a predator in wonder that he’d caught his prey, teeth parted and one corner of his lips almost parallel with his nose. She knew he understood, she was thanking him for everything, not just the earrings. “You’re very welcome, pet.” He stood, shedding his trousers and briefs, then his dress shirt. He let her watch him for a moment, her Master’s chiseled body. He’d be expecting her to maintain her figure from now on too. “I take what I want, Jasmine. And I expect nothing less than what I want. You understand that now?”

“Yes.” She lay down, sinking her head into the pillow. Her cunt was so deliciously sore. Every inch of her had been groped or tied or covered with cum or saliva in the past twelve hours. “What will we do tomorrow?” she asked.

“Tomorrow…” He seemed to taste the word like it was made of spun sugar as he climbed on the bed and crawled over to her. “Oh, there’s so many possibilities. It’s Sunday, so I guess brunch is in order. We can sleep in…or not.” He grinned. “But until then, you’ll rest, Jasmine. You’ll rest, and you’ll sleep, and you’ll dream of all the things you’ll get to do. All the positions, all the toys, all the ways you’ll scream. All the ways you’ll get to show your devotion and submission. All those wonderful, endless happy days and nights ahead of you. Ahead of both of us.” He seemed to be fading fast himself. Breaking in your very first sex slave couldn’t be easy. He found enough energy to crane his head forward enough to brush her lips with his, and then pulled the comforter over both of them before shutting his eyes. “Rest now, love.”

She obeyed, shutting her eyes, feeling her body drifting off without any ability for her to fight back if she’d wanted to. The last thing she felt before sleep overtook her was the gentle, low hum of her aroused clit, recharged since her most recent orgasm, reminding her silently once more of her Master’s generosity, of how grateful she should be for everything he’d given her. She might never understand the true count of his gifts. Her identity. Her clothes. Her home. Maybe even her name.

But she didn’t need to count. She didn’t need an inventory. Though she was a luxury item, she was no different than any other slave.

All she needed was her Master.

The End