The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It didn’t hit me until I got back to my desk.

“Jeff McKellar is going in for some surgery this weekend”, my boss had said. “We need someone to fill in for him at the Genutex meeting in Algiers.”

Eager to please, not to mention the chance to jump ranks in the company, I blurted out a quick “Absolutely!” After filling me in on the details, he sent me back to my desk to start making my personal arrangements.

As I sat down, I saw Becca’s picture on the desk. Dammit, she had planned the entire weekend for us—a quiet, romantic weekend with each other. I took care of some details as my mind played out ways of breaking the news to her.

I finally picked up the phone and hit the speed dial button for Becca’s apartment. After two rings, she picked up.

“You know how important it is for my career here, don’t you?”

She replied with a skeptical “Yeah...?”

After a brief discussion, I had won her over to my side. “You’re gonna have to make up for it, though” she said.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “well what did you have in mind?” A slight grin began to crawl across my face.

“Well”, she said. “You could start by bringing me back a little present...”

“Anything in mind?”

“Surprise me, but we’ll see where things go from there...” she said, and I could practically hear the sly smile on her face.

After hanging up, I finished making arrangements and went home to pack.

We left Thursday morning, and an uneventful plane trip over left me exhausted. But the plan was to sleep the night, get adjusted to the time change on Friday and prepare for a weekend’s worth of meetings.

Friday morning, restless in my bed, I decided to make the best of the trip. After showering, I put on some clothes, left a message at the front desk for my fellow travelers, and set out to explore the city.

After just a little while, I realized what a world traveler I’m not. A complete lack of language can really throw you off. Finally, I found a small clothing store, and stepped in to see if there was anything that I could bring back for Becca.

A young clerk approached me and spoke a few words I didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.”

“Oh, yes, English, yes, I get English speak” he said, and rushed off to the back of the building.

After a few moments, an older man emerged from the back room. “Welcome, sir!”

“Ah, do you speak English?”

“Yes, I was trained as a translator in London, but came here to take over my family’s business.”

After a few minutes of polite conversation, he asked me if there was anything in particular I was interested in. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m looking for something to bring home to my girlfriend.”

“Ahh, yes” he said, “a pretty dress for your lady?” He obviously saw something in my face, since he continued “...or perhaps something a little more...secret?”

“Yeah, a little more ‘secret’.”

“I see...won’t you please follow me?” The man led me to a corner of the shop. There was a small assortment of vaguely exotic-looking lingerie, some fairly plain, others not so plain. He said “If you see something you like, very well, but perhaps I may make a suggestion?”

I asked him what he was thinking. “Well, I do have this.” He reached over and pulled a satin-lined hanger from a hook. On it was a harem outfit. You know the kind, short top with loose straps, exposed belly, the pants with the gauzy legs, even a pair of slippers to match the green of the outfit.

I could already feel my shorts starting to shift as I imagined Becca in that outfit, her beautiful thin legs filling out the pants just right, her gorgeous cleavage delicately hidden behind the top, as her belly peeked out from below. I looked at my salesman. “How much?”

“If you have American cash, I will sell it to you for seventy dollars.”

Hell, if he had asked $700, I would have found a cash machine to get it...

I handed over the money, and the young boy who had approached me initially began wrapping the garments. The older man and I spoke of various things until the young boy approached and handed me a white box.”

I turned toward the exit, but the old man stopped me. “Before you leave,” he said, “I have one more box for you.” We walked back to the counter, and the man disappeared behind a curtain for a moment, before returning with a small brown box. I asked him what it was, and he told me that it just contained accessories to the outfit—a couple of bracelets, veil, earrings, that sort of thing. “I’ve also put a card with contact information inside, in case you ever need anything else.” I knew it wasn’t likely I’d ever be back to this country, but I figured it was probably just easiest to not say anything. I shook his hand and made my way back to the hotel.

The weekend seemed to drag on forever. Meetings upon meetings upon meetings upon more meetings. It might have gone quicker had I not gone on my little shopping excursion, but I just couldn’t get the image of Becca in her new outfit out of my head.

Finally, the weekend came to an end, and we were all on a flight back to the States.

Becca met me at the airport (she had dropped me off the morning of the trip to save me from parking fees) with a smile that was lovely, yet somehow wicked. “Welcome home, sweetie” she said as she leaned in to kiss me.

“Hey, princess...I missed you” I said as I welcomed her lips to mine.

The ride back to my place was relatively uneventful. Becca asked me about the meetings, about the flight (I told her I had slept most of the way back, so I was almost back to a normal schedule), about the city.

We climbed the steps to my apartment door. As I was looking for my keys, Becca leaned in close and quietly said “And what did you bring me?”

As I pulled out my key ring, I looked at her seductively and said “Oh, I think it’s something you’ll like...", adding a little smile at the end.

We brought my luggage inside, and Becca said “Well, where is it?”

“Can’t I even put my stuff away first?”

With a wry smile, she said “Nope. Let’s see.”

With that, I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out the white box. I handed it to her, and she sat down on the couch. Her hands lifted the lid off the box, then folded the tissue paper back. I wasn’t sure at first whether she’d like it or not, but the look in her eyes answered the question for me. “Mmmm...sexy...” she said with that same wry smile. “Perhaps I should go change?”

With that, she stood up, walked into the bedroom and closed the door. While she was changing, I took care of some odds and ends—checking the answering machine, grabbed the mail and scanned it for anything important, unpacking my shaving kit.

“Well, what do you think?” I hadn’t heard her open the door behind me, so I jumped slightly before turning around.

They say your imagination can show you things that could never be seen in the real world, things that could never exist. My imagination had let me down. I hadn’t imagined Becca could look this sexy in the outfit. The green straps of the top dangled seductively across her upper arms, while the top itself was cut just low enough to give only a hint of the bounty covered by the satin and tulle of the garment. The rose tattoo left of her belly button peeked out from between the top and the pants. The waistband on the pants rode high on her hips, but dipped seductively as it neared her middle. The inner pant legs were loose enough to sway as she walked, while the gauzy outer legs only accentuated the effect.

I was completely lost for words. I think I mumbled a breathy “Wow”. She came over to me slowly and kissed me. Then she uttered quietly, “Why don’t we have a little celebration to welcome you home?”

I told her I’d get some wine (I still don’t know why I put the bottle in the fridge before I left). As I walked toward the kitchen, I mentioned the extra box with the accessories.

I pulled out the bottle, and as I uncorked the bottle, I heard Becca say how pretty the jewelry was, and how much she liked the bracelets. I poured two glasses for us, and carried them back out into the living room.

Becca had pulled the veil across her face, put on the earrings and bracelets, and was looking at her reflection in the window. “Mmm...aren’t you my sexy little princess”, I said to her. “I suppose I should probably close these, though—don’t want prying eyes looking in...", I said as I pulled the drapes closed.

I walked back over to her with the wine. She was still staring at the window. “Earth to Becca”, I said with a slight smile.

Nothing.

I waved my hand in front of her face.

Nothing.

Now I was getting worried. Her eyes were still open, her arms at her sides, she was standing there just staring at the window. “Becca, what’s wrong?”

Still nothing.

I guided her body down into a seated position on the couch. She still stared straight forward, though no longer at the window. “Becca, what the hell is wrong with you?!?”

Nothing.

I tapped her each of her cheeks a couple of times, hoping that would rouse her from whatever was happening.

Nothing.

I thought about calling the hospital. But how the hell would I explain it? “Yes, my girlfriend is wearing one of those really sexy harem outfits and staring off into space. Can you please send an ambulance?”

Before I made the call, I looked back at Becca. She was looking directly into my eyes. “Becca?” I said.

“Yes, master?”

Whoa. “What?”

Still staring into my eyes, she spoke calmly. “Yes, master?”

“Becca, I’m not joking. What the hell are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I am not joking, master. I await your command.”

Okay, this is just getting creepy, I thought. Whatever this game she was playing was, I didn’t know anything about it, and wasn’t really sure what to think of it. “Becca, why are you calling me ‘master’?”

“Because you are my master, master.”

Stupid questions get stupid answers...I put my hand to my forehead and exhaled “And why do you think I am your master?”

“Because I have been programmed as your slave, master.”

“Becca, come on, quit it—you’re really starting to frighten me.”

“I am sorry, master, I do not wish to frighten you.”

Okay, time for a brief moment of thought. At this point, I still ‘officially’ thought that it was just Becca playing some sort of stupid game, but deep down in my brain, I knew there was something else at work here. And, whatever’s going on, she’s answering my questions fairly easily and straight-forward. Maybe she’ll tell me how to undo whatever it is that’s been done. “Becca, what makes you think you are my slave?”

“You have given me my bracelets, master.”

“What do the bracelets have to do with this?”

“My bracelets control my mind for you, master.”

Ah, ha! “Becca, take off your bracelets.”

“Yes, master.” With that, she moved something other than her head for the first time in several minutes. Her right hand came over her lap to her left wrist, reached underneath and triggered a latch. The left bracelet sprung open and she removed it and set it on the coffee table. Then she did the same with the right bracelet, setting it next to its match.

“Becca?” I said.

“Yes, master?”

“Becca, why are you still calling me master?”

“Because you are my master, master.”

This would not be easy. “Becca, didn’t you say that the bracelets controlled your mind for me?”

“Yes, master. My bracelets control my mind for you, master.”

“But you’re not wearing the bracelets anymore.”

“It does not matter, master. The bracelets control my mind regardless of whether I am wearing them or not.”

The tears started welling up in my eyes. “Dammit, Becca, I don’t want you to be my slave!”

“Master, you may release me from your service if you like.”

I looked up quickly. “Would that change you back to the way you used to be? Your mind would be free again?”

“No, master. My mind would be free of your control, but my mind has been irrevocably changed by the bracelets, and I cannot be returned to my pre-slave self, master.”

I sat on the end of my bed. I didn’t know what to do—I mean, here’s an incredibly beautiful, intelligent woman who loves me, and I love her, and three days ago, everything was just perfect. Hell, three hours ago, everything was just perfect. Then she put on those damned bracelets, and suddenly the girl I was in love with ceased to exist.

I sat in my sweatpants and an old t-shirt I had changed into. I had left Becca alone in the living room. Didn’t say anything to her, just went to the bedroom and closed the door. I definitely needed some time to think about things.

There was a soft knocking at the door. I uttered a quiet “yeah”, and the door slowly opened. There in the doorway was Becca, or what was left of her, still wearing the green harem outfit I had presented her with three hours earlier. She was still wearing the earrings and veil, but I noticed that she had replaced the bracelets on her wrists. She slowly walked into the room with her head bowed toward the floor.

“Master, I am sorry if I have disappointed you”, she said.

“Becca, it’s not that you’ve disappointed me. I’m just mad that this has happened. I didn’t want to lose your mind, your entire personality—the whole idea was to give you something I thought you would enjoy, the harem outfit.”

“But master, I do enjoy being your slave.”

“No, Becca, I don’t think you really do. I think that’s probably just what those damned bracelets are doing to you.”

“Master, my bracelets have made me into your slave, but I still enjoy obeying you. You are my master, and I am very happy that I am able to be your slave.”

“But you can’t be happy—the bracelets just force you to think that way!”

“Master, my mind is still capable of feeling happiness, sadness, all of the normal human emotions. My former personality, ‘Becca’, has been replaced in favor of a new personality which obeys you, master.”

I was starting to get frustrated. I mean, on the one hand, the love of my life was gone forever, replaced by an identical-looking mindless zombie woman. Sure, she had a beautiful body, but I wanted more than just a body—I wanted someone to talk to, someone to share my life with, someone who could make me feel emotions.

Of course, on the other hand, what guy wouldn’t dream of having a knock-out gorgeous woman ready to wait on him hand and foot?

I needed to let this run through my head for a while. “Look, Becca, or whoever you are now—I’m going to sleep for the night. You can sleep on the couch in the living room if you want, just leave me alone for the night.”

“As you command, master.” She slowly retreated and closed the door behind her. I could barely hear the footsteps as her slipper-shod feet softly padded down the wooden floors of the hall into the living room.

This would be a long night. I lay back in my bed and tried to sleep. Two hours later, I succeeded.

It’s funny how critical timing can be. Just a week earlier, the last of the oil on the hinges of my bedroom door had worn away, and the door began squeaking as it opened and closed. At the supermarket the night before I had left on my ill-fated trip, as I was picking up travel-sized toiletries, I remembered the squeak and picked up a small can of WD-40. As I was packing that night, I pulled the can out of the bag in my bedroom and hit each hinge with a brief squirt.

The smell of the lubricant still lingered in the room as I drifted off to sleep. And between the soft satin slippers on her feet, the newly greased hinges of the door, and my exhaustion after a flight from the other side of the globe, I never heard Becca slip into the room. She was still wearing her harem outfit, but had removed the bracelets, and was instead carrying them in her hands.

She quietly sidled over to the side of the bed where I lay asleep. I had pulled the covers loosely over my body, but she had no trouble pulling back one corner and locking a bracelet onto my left wrist.

Jolted out of a dream I couldn’t remember, my eyes sprung open. As they focused, oddly enough, the first thing I noticed was that I had fallen asleep with the lights still on. The second thing I noticed was the satin and tulle top of Becca’s harem outfit top leaning in close to my face. I could feel her hands on my right arm, but couldn’t tell what she was doing. I could also feel something cold on my left wrist. As I looked down at it, it suddenly hit me what was happening.

It was too late, though. Just as I figured it out, Becca was snapping the right bracelet closed.

It was an odd sensation, to say the least. A brief jolt of power, as if I had touched an electric line for a moment. Then, darkness. I was still awake, yet still asleep.

And then it was over. My eyes opened, and Becca was standing at the foot of my bed with her head bowed.

It was only a couple of minutes that I was under. Somehow, though, for lack of a better term, I had been ‘taught’ what had happened. The bracelets had been commissioned many years ago by a rich Egyptian man. A man said to have had special powers had created the bracelets out of thin air. The bracelets, when placed on a woman’s wrists, would ‘retrain’ her mind to be obedient to her master for the the rest of her life. Her previous personality, regardless of whether she was pleasant, nasty, or somewhere between, would essentially be erased, and replaced with a pleasant, subservient persona supplied by the bracelets. Her mind would still continue to function as it had before, fully capable of feeling all the normal emotions, just without her original personality. She was also fully capable of making her own decisions, but the new persona implanted in her mind would ensure that she would always obey her master’s directions. The training ensured that, not only would she please her new master, but she truly would be happy in her new life as a slave. To ensure her dedication to her master, the bracelets would reinforce her training each day, and were able to control her from anywhere, whether she was wearing them or not. The two bracelets together could control up to eight women. One of the stranger aspects was that, since the bracelets were created for an Egyptian man, who evidently had an attraction to women in harem outfits, any woman enslaved by the bracelets would automatically wear a harem outfit, unless she were ordered to wear something else by her master.

The bracelets, I was taught, had not affected me in any way. They had simply provided the history of the bracelets and how they worked. The idea, I was taught, was that, since I would be disbelieving of Becca’s assurance of her happiness, the bracelets would show me that Becca truly was happy in her new role as my slave, and since her duty was to please me, I should allow her to do so.

Becca had removed the bracelets from my wrists and replaced them on hers. She stood, motionless, at the end of my bed. “Master,” she said quietly, “I am sorry if you were hurt by my actions, but I was ordered to put the bracelets on you, to teach you the way.”

Though I had learned much in the few minutes that had passed, I still had questions. “Who ordered you to use the bracelets on me?”

“The bracelets ordered me, master. They were able to sense that you were not understanding of the process, and knew they would be able to explain it to you better than I could.”

I was still half-asleep—I looked at the alarm clock. The red LED’s shone the numbers 4:37. “Fine,” I said somewhat exasperated. “Are we finished?”

“The bracelets have completed their work, master. I am ready to obey.”

“Fine. Go back to the living room and sleep the rest of the night. And that’s an order.”

“Yes, master.” For the second time that night, her satin slippers quietly glided backward out through the door.

I was too tired to even think about it. I reached over, turned off the light, and my eyes were shut before my head hit the pillow.

I slept long and hard after that. I hadn’t set an alarm, and when my eyes sprang open, it was well after 10:00. The company had given me the day off to recuperate from the trip. For a brief moment, the thought passed through my head that everything that had happened was a dream, but somehow I knew it wasn’t.

I stood up and walked out into the living room. Becca’s slumbering form was laying on the couch, her eyes closed, her body still covered in the harem outfit, the bracelets still clasped around her wrists.

I walked into the kitchen and turned the faucet on. As I was pulling the can of coffee down from the shelf, I heard the couch in the living room creak as Becca stood. She walked into the kitchen, stood in the doorway, and said “Master, may I serve you?”

“Don’t worry, Becca, I’m fully capable of making coffee.”

“Yes, master. If you want anything, I am happy to serve.”

“Okay.” I poured the scoop of coffee into the filter and slid it into the Mr. Coffee. As the water dribbled through the grounds, I stood silently. Finally, the pot was full enough to pour, and I pulled a mug out from the cupboard. Becca still stood in the doorway silently.

“Becca, would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, master, I would like a cup.”

Well, at least she still liked coffee...I poured two cups, added sugar to mine, sugar and cream to hers, and set both on the counter at the end of the kitchen. Becca picked up her mug by the handle and uttered a brief “Thank you, master” before taking a sip.

As I sipped my coffee, it occurred to me that nothing was going to happen on its own here—I would have to start something moving. “So, Becca, are you really happy now?”

“Absolutely, master, I am very happy as your slave.”

“But you were happy before, weren’t you?”

“Yes, master, but I am just as happy as your slave as I was before I was your slave.”

“But you’re not free to do anything other than obey me.”

“Master, I am free to do anything I want, as long as I obey you. I can be happy without obeying you, but since I am happy obeying you, I choose to obey you.”

“Could you leave me if you wanted?”

“I could leave, master, but if you ordered me to come back, or not to leave at all, I would obey your command.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “So, you’re not forced to stay with me, unless I order you to?”

“That is correct, master.”

“If I don’t order you to stay with me, would you choose to anyway?”

“Yes, master, I would be happy to stay with you.”

“I just can’t have the old Becca back?”

“No, master, I am sorry.”

I thought about it for a moment. It was still the beautiful Becca I had fallen in love with, it was just a new person behind the face. “Well, I still love your body, and you’re certainly willing to stay with me. I guess I could give it a shot...”

Becca smiled (somehow, she still had that wry little smile she did so well) and said “Thank you, master. I hope I can live up to your expectations. And I think I know how to start.”

With that, she slowly moved over to me. Her left hand went up behind her head, then one side of her veil fell from her head, leaving her face exposed. She leaned in delicately, and her lips touched mine. She kissed me softly at first, then pulled away briefly. She moved in once again and began another kiss, this one much more passionate, her tongue forcing my lips apart and playing with my own. We continued for another minute before I stood up and led her back to the living room. We sat on the couch and continued our kissing. Gradually, almost automatically, my arm came up to her shoulder. She lifted her arm out of the strap as I slid it down, then we repeated it with her other arm. We continued our kiss as I pulled the top of her outfit down, letting her breasts fall out. She laid back on the couch as I moved down and began kissing around her exposed chest. She was clearly enjoying things as I reached down and pulled the waist of her harem pants down around her thighs, revealing her pussy. I slipped my own sweatpants down and pressed my stiff member into the open slit.

We writhed in sexual passion for almost an hour. I’d swear, those bracelets had taught Becca some new tricks overnight. Finally, both exhausted, we laid together on the couch in the living room.

“Wow” was about all I could say.

Becca looked over at me. “May I assume that I have pleased you, master?”

“Becca, that was incredible.”

“Thank you, master. I am glad that you are satisfied with my performance.”

“Becca...did you really enjoy that?”

“Yes, master.”

“No, Becca, I don’t mean ‘Did you enjoy pleasing me?’. I mean, ‘Did you enjoy the sex yourself?’”

“Yes, master. As you were instructed last night, I am still fully capable of feeling pleasure, and I was very satisfied by my experience.”

“Good. I’m happy.”

“Thank you, master.”

She stood up, pulled her pants and top back into place, replaced the veil across her face, and said “If you do not have anything else for me to do, I will go clean up the kitchen.”

“Okay, Becca.”

She left the room, and I heard water start running in the kitchen.

Well, now I had some time to myself. Time to think. Was it really good to keep Becca as a slave? Of course not. But, as both she and the bracelets told me, there was no going back for her—no matter what happened, she would always be what she is now. If I turn her away, she’ll have to go out into a totally unfamiliar world and try to cope. She truly did seem happy in her new form, she hadn’t complained once, and there were only a couple of times in the 14 hours or so since her transformation that she seemed depressed. And, whenever she seemed depressed, it was always because she thought she had disappointed me—like when I woke up after wearing the bracelets, and she stood at the end of my bed, head bowed, apologizing if she had angered me.

What about Becca’s family? Time for a question. “Becca?” I called out.

Within a few seconds, she stood in front of me. “Yes, master?”

“Are you capable of acting ‘normal’ around other people?”

“How do you mean, master? I am acting normal.”

“Well, Becca, I mean...well, for instance, what if your parents—er, what if Becca’s parents came to town looking for Becca? Would you be capable of acting as if you were still your pre-slave self?”

“Why would I want to pretend to be someone else, master?”

“Well, your family might not be as understanding as you about your enslavement.”

“I see. I would be capable of concealing my enslavement from people, if you ordered me to, but if you were to give me an order, I would still obey.”

“And do you have any knowledge of Becca’s family?”

“No, master. I do not.”

Hmmm...this would be tough. If her parents or brother ever showed up in town, they’d start asking questions. “Thank you, Becca.”

“Yes, master.” She walked back into the kitchen to continue her cleaning.

I’d have to try and get some information about her family, plus I’d need to transfer anything going to her apartment—telephone, mail, stuff like that—to mine. Quitting her job wouldn’t be difficult—she had recently finished grad school, and was still looking for a career job, but was waiting tables at a local restaurant.

I went into my room, changed into a pair of jeans and a fresh shirt, threw on a pair of shoes, and went back into the living room.

“Becca?”

Once again, she came rushing out to the living room and presented herself to me. “Yes, master?”

“Becca, I’m going to go out and take care of your arrangements here. Will you be okay if I leave you alone here?”

“Yes, master. I will clean the apartment while you are gone.”

Becca hated cleaning. Just something new to get used to. “Okay. If the phone rings, don’t answer it—the machine will pick it up. If anyone knocks at the door, don’t answer it.”

“Yes, master.”

After quitting Becca’s job for her (they had never seen me in there before, so it was easily believable that I was her brother), I filed a change of address form at the post office, then went to the phone company’s office and had her number forwarded to my apartment.

When I got home, Becca, true to her word, had cleaned the apartment top to bottom. She was sitting on the couch watching a “Friends” rerun when I walked in. Her head spun around, then she jumped to her feet. “Welcome home, master!”

“Hi, Becca”, I said. “Wow, I don’t think this apartment has ever been cleaner!”

“Thank you, master. I’m glad that you are pleased. I have begun dinner, and it should be ready around 6:00.”

“Mmm, what are you cooking?”

“Master, there was not much food left in the house, but I was able to find spaghetti and sauce.”

“How’d you know that was my favorite?” I said with a smile on my face.

Dinner was delicious, and I told Becca about the changes I had made—quitting her job for her, the phone forwarding. Not once did she complain—in fact, when I finished, she said “Thank you, master, for allowing me to live with you.”

“Well, Becca, I didn’t think you’d be okay living on your own. At least, not until you learn some more about the world.”

After we were finished, Becca began clearing the table. As she was washing up in the kitchen, I sat on the couch and found myself realizing what a dream this was becoming—I’ve got the most beautiful woman in the world waiting on me hand and foot and happy to do so. I was starting to get turned on.

“Becca?”

Once again, Becca presented herself front and center. “Yes, master?”

Becca had never been willing to go down on me before—she found it, in her words, “disgusting and yucky”. “Becca, I would like you to give me a blow job.”

Again, that same smile of hers. “Yes, master.”

Almost immediately, she was on her knees, deftly unbuckling my belt and opening my jeans. She pulled my jockey shorts down to reveal my stiff member, and quickly moved in. Her tongue danced around my shaft quickly but delicately, stroking then swirling in just the right rythym. A few minutes after she started, my dick exploded into her mouth, pulsing repeatedly and spewing forth semen with each sensation. Becca, her mouth still surrounding my member, swallowed everything that came out.

When I was finished, Becca pulled back and looked up at me on the couch. “Is my master happy with me?”

“Oh, Becca, you’re the best! I love you!”

“Thank you, master.”

“Thank you, Becca.”

With that, Becca stood, fastened the veil across her face, and walked back to the kitchen to continue her dinnertime clean-up.

Becca and I made love twice more that night—once again on the couch, once in my bed. When we were finished the second time, I told Becca to go back to the living room and sleep for the night. Her head bowed down, and she said “Have I disappointed you, master?”

“No, no no no no no, no”, I quickly said. “But I have to sleep tonight, since I have to be back at work tomorrow, and with you in here, and you in those clothes, I don’t think there’s going to be much sleep.”

“Would you like me to remove my harem outfit, master?”

“No, I’m afraid that wouldn’t help...”

Her head was still down, but she said “I understand, master. I will sleep in the living room.”

I could tell she was really sad about it. “Becca, don’t worry—it won’t be like this every night. I just have to sleep well tonight to get myself back into a normal rythym. By tomorrow night, we’ll be sharing a bed for the night.”

With that, she perked up considerably. “Thank you master. I am glad to hear that.” And she walked out of the room and closed the door.

The next morning, after showering and shaving, I again told Becca not to answer the phone or the door. I also had her record a new message with me for my machine, so that if her parents happened to call, they’d just think we had moved in together. I left for work hoping everything would work out for the best.

It was a long, long day at work. Many meetings, discussions of how our meetings in Algiers had gone (I had almost forgotten about the meetings with all that had happened), and the usual mundane, boring old business crap that I had grown to hate.

5:00 couldn’t come fast enough.

I parked my car in the lot, and bounded up the steps to my apartment door. I slipped my key in the lock and turned the knob. Once again, Becca was sitting on the couch watching a “Friends” rerun. She bounded up and said “Welcome home, master! I have a surprise for you!”

I started to walk over to give her a kiss and ask her how she could surprise me, when Molly came out of the kitchen.

Molly was the landlady for the apartment complex. In her early thirties, she had never been a gorgeous woman, but was very far from unattractive. Never married, her body was still as firm and pleasant to look at as a 20 year old. And she was standing there, in the doorway of my kitchen, wearing a purple harem outfit identical to Becca’s, complete with a bracelet on each wrist.

“Welcome home, master”, Molly said to me.

I was dumbfounded, but Becca explained it all to me. She had been in the bedroom cleaning, when Molly had come by my apartment. She had come to find out why I hadn’t paid my rent for the month (which was her first mistake—she had received the check a week earlier), and when her knocks on the door went unanswered, yet there was a light on in the window, she figured I was just trying to hide from her, and used her master key to open the door.

She had walked through the living room, into the kitchen, just as Becca was making her way back to the living room from cleaning the bedroom. As Molly came back out into the living room, she saw Becca standing there in her harem outfit. Molly had said “Who are you?”

“I am my master’s slave” said Becca.

Molly had been dumbfounded. “He’s keeping you as a slave?”

It was at that point that Becca received additional instructions from her bracelets. She was told that the landlady would be disbelieving of the actual situation, and the best way out was to enslave her. She began talking like a frantic woman. “He keeps me locked up in here, and these damn bracelets keep me from leaving. I can’t get them off—can you help me?”

With that, Molly moved over to Becca and held Becca’s right arm out in front of her chest. Molly began working on the latch to the bracelet, and finally got it open. Becca pulled the right bracelet off, held it in her right hand, and put out her left arm. Just as Molly unlatched the second bracelet, Becca slapped the right bracelet on one of Molly’s wrists. As Molly suddenly realized what was happening, Becca pulled Molly’s other arm behind her back, then slapped the second bracelet on the open wrist. Molly’s body fell to the floor as her mind began its reprogramming.

Within five minutes, Molly was my obedient slave.

“But where did you get the harem outfit for her?”

Becca said “It was in the box, master” and gestured to the same white box her own outfit had been packaged in.

“They gave me two outfits?”

“No, master. Slave Molly’s harem outfit was sent after her enslavement.”

“But how?”

Molly spoke for the first time since she had first addressed me as master. “Master, I was told that the outfit would be waiting for me in a white box near the doorway to your apartment, and it was.”

“And I suppose you’ve been changed to be my slave, and there’s no going back?”

“Yes, master. I am your slave.”

Fortnately, it was a small apartment building. Many years ago, it was a large house, but had since been converted into four smaller apartments. Molly lived alone off-site, in her own house, and had few friends. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be missed by many people.

“Molly, put on the clothes you were wearing when you came here this afternoon.”

“Yes, master” she said. She quickly pulled the harem top over her head, revealing her still firm breasts. She slid the pants down her legs, then pulled each foot through the cuff, leaving her naked except for the bracelets, earrings, and the veil, all of which she removed. She walked to the table, where Becca had folded her clothes neatly, and pulled the front-closing sheer black bra around her chest. Then, she pulled a pair of black panties from the pile and pulled them up aroud her mid-section. A black sweater and denim skirt followed, then socks and tennis shoes.

As she was dressing, Becca picked up the bracelets and placed them on her own wrists.

When Molly was finished, she stood in front of me. “Becca, take care of Molly’s clothing.”

“Yes, master,” she said, and went to work folding Molly’s harem outfit.

“Molly, we are going to your house. You will gather your belongings, pack them up, and you will move into the vacant apartment next to mine.”

“Yes, master.”

“Becca, you will remain here. Please prepare dinner for the three of us.”

“Yes, master. Is there anything in particular you would like for dinner?”

“Something simple, maybe just fry up some hamburgers or something.”

“Yes, master.”

Molly and I drove to her house, where we got together important things—clothes, toiletries, records. She didn’t have that many personal possessions, and we were easily able to load them all into my car. Her house was now essentially empty, except for the furniture and appliances.

As we drove back to the apartments, I glanced over at Molly occasionally. I guess I had never really noticed before, but she really was an attractive woman. When we got back to the apartments, Molly used her key to open apartment three, next to mine. It was completely empty, save for a fridge and stove. We moved her belongings into the empty space, then returned to my apartment.

This ‘master/slave’ thing was really starting to be kinda pleasant, I thought as I looked at Molly’s body. “Molly, you may change back into your harem outfit.”

“Yes, master,” she said, and did as she was ordered.

After a brief dinner, I pulled out the phone book and found a small moving company here in town. I arranged for them to move Molly’s furniture from her house into her new apartment. We’d sell her house, and Molly would live her life next door to me. I knew there were the remnants of a door between our two apartments, left over from years ago when the building served as a private home. With Molly’s and Becca’s help, we managed to pull the covering from the door, reconnecting our two apartments. I made a mental note to find a door to hang in the new passageway.

Later that night, the three of us ended up together in my bed. I had never liked three-way sex, not so much from a bad experience, but just from the idea in my head. But in bed with Molly and Becca in their harem outfits, I quickly found out how mistaken I had been...

As the months went by, and the leaves began to turn, the three of us settled into a life together. Becca’s parents had called once, just a couple weeks ago. I had had time to teach Becca about some of her personal history, and when her mother called, Becca was able to convince her mother that she and I had moved in together. Her mother and father were moving to Arizona to retire soon, and Becca and I had dinner with them one last time. Becca was able to act ‘normal’ enough to fool her parents.

For as much change as both Becca and Molly had seen, it took a little while for me to notice changes in my own behavior as well. After a couple of weeks of having two beautiful harem girls waiting on me, I found myself starting to treat them more like slaves and less like the beautiful girls they were. I was getting home from work and treating them like dirt, ordering them to do anything I wanted. I knew they were happy to do so, but it just didn’t feel right ordering them around. I started paying close attention to the way I was dealing with them—asking instead of ordering, trying to keep their feelings in mind.

The sex was still fantastic—between Molly and Becca, I would usually get laid each night after work, though I never outright ordered the girls to do anything—it just didn’t feel right to me to force them to fuck me. Too close to prostitution for my tastes. Fortunately, both Becca and Molly seemed to be in love with me (or, at least, as in love with me as the bracelets allowed).

The beginning of the end came one Wednesday night in October.

I had always left standing orders with both of my slaves not to answer the phone or the door—there were just too many things that could happen while I was away. Everything had gone well for so long that any change in the status quo never entered my mind.

A pipe in my bathroom had burst. Nothing visible on our end, at least not at first glance—it was behind the wall next to the toilet. But the water had leaked down through the walls and into the apartments on the ground floor. One apartment was home to Juliet, a 32-year old divorcee; the other housed two 19-year old college students, Ariel and Stephanie.

Juliet found the leak first. She had been doing some housecleaning when she went into her own bathroom and found water pooling on the linoleum floor. Since the wall with the plumbing was a common wall with the next door apartment, she went out and knocked on the neighbors’ door.

Ariel had answered the door. As Juliet was asking her whether they had any problems, Stephanie came out into the living room and asked Ariel why there was so much water on the bathroom floor. The three had looked in each bathroom and eventually decided the water was coming from upstairs.

Stephanie went back to her studies while Ariel and Juliet came upstairs to tell Molly. With no answer at Molly’s door, they decided to check with me. Again, no answer. They talked about it between themselves before deciding it was important enough to take the next step, before anything more happened. Ariel had reached down and given my door knob a twist.

I guess it had never really occurred to me to lock the door when I left for work each morning—there were two people inside, so there was nothing to worry about. But I had never thought that someone would just walk in the front door without knocking. And that’s what had happened—Ariel and Juliet, in an attempt to stem the water leaking through her ceiling, came into my apartment to track the problem.

Ariel went back downstairs to check on the water problem there as Juliet went back toward my bathroom, where she found Molly cleaning. “Oh—hi, Molly,” she had said.

Molly, obviously surprised by the sudden appearance of a stranger, jumped up. Juliet saw her harem outfit and said “Molly, what the hell are you wearing?”

She was still wearing the bracelets, which told her what to say. “I’m wearing my harem outfit for my master.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

The delay was short, but still enough to allow the bracelets to send Becca into the bathroom. Using the same stealth she had once used on me, Becca slipped up behind Juliet, then grabbed her arms and held them behind her back. Juliet started to say something at first, but Molly had already removed the bracelets. Before Juliet had a chance to scream, Molly had clipped the bracelets onto Juliet’s wrists. Instantly, her body went limp and fell to the floor.

As Juliet’s mind was reprogrammed by the bracelets, Becca and Molly went back to the front door. Ariel was coming back up the stairs toward my apartment, and Molly and Becca were waiting for her.

As Ariel approached my apartment, she noticed two white boxes on the floor next to my door. She picked them up and brought them inside.

It was quick—Molly pulled Ariel’s arms back behind her, as Becca forced them to the floor. “What the fuck is going on?” said Ariel.

“You will be held until you can be enslaved,” said Becca.

Face down on the floor, Ariel couldn’t see anything going on. “Let me up, dammit!” she shouted. She continued struggling for a minute before she was able to look up and see Juliet emerging from the bathroom. “Juliet, what the fuck is happening?!?”

Juliet didn’t say anything—she calmly walked over to where the two white boxes had fallen to the floor. Then she reached up and removed her blue sweatshirt, cottom bra, blue jeans, and panties. Ariel was speechless as Juliet opened the top box and pulled out a red harem outfit.

After getting dressed, Juliet kneeled down to the floor directly in front of Ariel. “Juliet,” said Ariel, “what the hell are you doing?”

Juliet didn’t say anything. Instead, she calmly unclasped the bracelets from her own wrists and reached back behind Ariel’s back. A moment later, the struggling stopped.

And a few minutes later, Ariel was dressed in her own pink harem outfit.

But the bracelets had anticipated the potential problem.

After a few minutes, a curious Stephanie had appeared at my front door, which had been left open a bit by Ariel. She stepped inside and called out “Ariel? Juliet? You guys still in here?”

The bracelets had told the quartet of slaves just what to do. Stephanie had turned toward the bathroom when she saw Molly and Becca waiting for her. Not recognizing Becca, she said “Molly?”

That was all she got out. Juliet and Ariel had slipped up behind her, each carrying an open bracelet. Within seconds, Stephanie’s body was on the floor, her mind being reprogrammed, and within minutes, her white sweater and black stirrup pants had been replaced with another pink harem outfit..

Needless to say, when I got home, I wasn’t happy.

The five slaves stood in front of me, waiting to serve. “Okay, all of you, listen very carefully.”

They all chimed in with a “Yes, master.”

“From now on, none of you are to enslave any more women, for any reason. Is that clear?”

Another chorus of “Yes, master.”

“If someone ends up inside the apartment, you will all go through the new door to Molly’s apartment, then close and lock the door. If you can’t get there, you will go into the bathroom and close and lock the door and wait for me.”

“Yes, master.”

Damn, this had put a kink in my plans. I was hoping to quit the job I had become sick of, and instead live off the rent still coming in from Juliet and the girls, as well as the money we had put in the bank after selling Molly’s house. Without the rent coming in, it became less feasible. I could rent out their apartments, but I wasn’t really fond of the idea of bringing a new person into the building.

Of course, this was all on top of the fact that three more people had been enslaved. While I certainly wasn’t unhappy with Becca and Molly since they had put on the bracelets, I didn’t want anyone else to have to live through what they were.

“Becca, why don’t you make some dinner for us all.”

“Yes, master. What would you like for dinner, master?”

“I don’t care,” I snapped at her. “Just make something!”

“Yes, master,” she said with a bowed head, and retreated into the kitchen.

Ariel came over to my side. “Master, you seem angry. May I give you a blow job to please you?”

“No, Ariel.”

“Why, master?”

“Dammit, just ‘no’.”

“Yes, master,” she said rather dejectedly.

“Master?” said Juliet.

“What?”

“Would you like me to give you a blow job?”

“No!” I shouted. “Look, all of you, I’m not in the mood for anything right now.”

“Yes, master,” they all said in unison, each with a bowed head

While Becca was making dinner for the group, I went into the bathroom to try and fix the problem. Not much of an expert in plumbing, needless to say the leak was beyond my expertise. I found the main valve to shut off the water to the broken pipe and made a mental note to call a plumber in the morning.

When dinner was ready, we sat around the dining room table, me at the head of the table, Becca and Molly in their harem outfits to my right, Juliet and Ariel in theirs to my left, and Stephanie at the opposite end of the table.

“Girls, I’m sorry I got angry with you earlier, but it’s just that...well, I know you’re all happy serving me and all, but I really didn’t want any more slaves. Becca was plenty at first, then when Molly was enslaved, I learned to accept it. But now there’s three more of you, and I didn’t really need three more slaves.”

They all bowed their heads at the table. Juliet was the first to speak. “Master, I’m sorry for entering your apartment without your permission. But I am happy to serve you.”

Molly chimed in, “Yes, master, both Becca and I are sorry that we enslaved Juliet, Ariel and Stephanie for you without your permission, but the bracelets instructed us to.”

Becca said “Yes, master. The bracelets command us when neccessary.”

“When is it neccessary?”

Ariel said “It is clear that you wish to keep us secret, master. When you are not around, and the secret is in danger of being revealed, the bracelets take action to protect the secret, master.”

“If I give you a direct order, can the bracelets override my order and contradict me?”

“No, master,” Stephanie said. “If you give us a direct order, we must obey it, and nothing can change that.”

“But if I don’t give you a direct order, the bracelets can still direct you to do things I wouldn’t approve of?”

“Yes, master,” said Molly. “We would not willingly do something to displease you. But if the bracelets ordered us to do something, we would have to obey, unless it contradicted one of your direct orders.”

“I see.”

We finished dinner in silence.

Later that night, I had the girls put on their normal clothing and, between the six of us, managed to move my new slaves’ beds up to Molly’s apartment. We left most of their personal possessions in their apartment downstairs. I was tired and figured we could deal with that later.

As we all sat in my living room that night, each of my five slave girls tried at various times to get me aroused. At one point, Stephanie asked me if, since I was so tired, maybe I’d like to see her eat out Ariel?

“No. Look, I’m just not in the mood for anything at all tonight.”

Stephanie looked to the floor, sorry that she couldn’t please her master.

Becca then said “Master?”

“Yes, Becca?”

“Master, you ordered us to change into our ‘normal’ clothes. I need to do some laundry, and would like to wash the clothes we are wearing, so they will be ready for the next time we must go out in public. May we switch back into our harem outfits?”

“Fine.” I was really in a funk tonight.

“Yes, master” they all said, then the five went off to change.

Later that night, Becca and I went to my bed in my room, and I sent Ariel, Juliet, Stephanie and Molly to their beds. Again, Becca tried getting passionate with me, but tonight just wasn’t a night for sex. I turned out the light and went to sleep.

I was in the midst of a nightmare, in which the five girls were chasing me through a floor in my office building, when I woke up.

The light in the hallway was on, letting a little light into the room, but it took my groggy eyes a few seconds to adjust to the scene. Juliet and Stephanie were at the foot of the bed, each holding one of my ankles down. Becca was still in bed, on my right, holding my right arm down. Molly stood next to the bed, holding my left arm out. Ariel stood next to her, holding the bracelets.

“What’s going on?” I mumbled.

They didn’t say anything. Ariel opened one bracelet and placed it on my left wrist, then started to walk around the bed. That woke me up instantly.

“Ariel, I command you not to put that bracelet on me!”

“Yes, master,” she said, and continued to the other side of the bed.

“Ariel, stop where you are!”

“Yes, master,” she said, and stopped next to Becca.

“What the hell is going on here?” I said to them all.

Molly began to speak. “Master, we have been ordered by the bracelets to place them on your wrists.”

“Why?”

Molly said “I do not know, master. The bracelets do not always explain their intentions to us.”

While my head was turned toward Molly, Ariel had handed the one remaining bracelet to Becca. I had ordered Ariel not to place the bracelet on my wrist, but I had said nothing to Becca.

“Molly, take this bracel—". I stopped in mid-sentence as the second bracelet was closed aroud my wrist. Again, that strange sensation of power, followed by darkness.

He was quite the pervert, that first Egyptian. He had originally ordered the bracelets made with the intention of collecing his own personal harem of slave girls. It was said that he’d stick his manhood into anything with a pussy—old, young, human, not.

He enslaved 26 girls over his years—whenever one slave got too old, or too loose, or too ugly, or too whatever, or maybe pissed him off, he’d get rid of her and enslave a fresh young one. Once, he actually killed one of his slaves, stabbing her to death in his bed, then ordering the seven other slave girls to dispose of the body before enslaving a new girl. Usually, though, he’d either release the unsuspecting girl out into the world to be tortured by the evil people lurking in the open, or have one of the slaves throw her into the Mediterranean with weights around her ankles.

When the Egyptian had died, the officials found the eight remaining slave girls in his home. The bracelets, aware of events, quickly instructed the girls, and they were able to sufficiently convince the authorities that they were there of their own choice. The girls, under instruction by the bracelets, locked the bracelets away in a chest hidden in the wall of a building in central Alexandria.

The girls had gone out into the world, trying their best to live lives of freedom, and eventually, they had all passed away—some murdered, some dying of old age. When they had all died, the bracelets had reset, ready for a new master.

As the years went by, the bracelets had been uncovered, used again, hidden again at the next master’s death, uncovered again, used again, hidden again. They made their way around the populated world, throughout Europe, northern Africa, and even as far as eastern Asia. Each master was tested by the bracelets, to ensure that the master would use the bracelets to their fullest power. In those unenlightened times, the men usually did, but sometimes adjustments to the master’s mind were neccessary...

Each time the bracelets emerged, it was in a different way. Sometimes they were found by a snooping thief, other times they were given as a gift, and occasionally they were sold in a small store.

It was one of those times that I had encountered the bracelets. The old man who sold me Becca’s harem outfit had known about the power of the bracelets—he had purchased the bracelets at an auction many years earlier, and being the curious type, he had tried them on once. The bracelets, knowing the man had no idea what they were, had taught him how they controlled womens’ minds. He was tempted, but he also realized the terrible power they possessed, and decided the best move was to keep them locked up until they could be gotten rid of.

So, when I appeared in his shop that day, looking for a gift for Becca, he showed me the harem outfit, knowing that if he could sell it to me, he’d be able to throw in some free gifts, like a pair of earrings, a veil, and two bracelets that didn’t really seem to match anything else in the set.

The bracelets had been designed for sex—that much was obvious. But it wasn’t until my slaves had placed them on my wrists that I realized just how much sex they were designed for.

My eyes opened after the programming. Was I still ‘me’? I still had all my memories, all my identity, everything that made me ‘me’. And yet, it had suddenly occurred to me just how much of the past six months of my life I had wasted. I mean, here I’ve been living with two beautiful slave girls for all these months, and I’ve only been screwing them five or six times a week! And the bracelets can control eight girls, but until tonight, I’ve only had two! All this power going to waste!

My slaves stood at the foot of my bed, all of them waiting to serve. “Slave Becca,” I said.

Becca responded instantly “Yes, master?”

“The bracelets are capable of controlling eight girls, correct?”

“Yes, master.”

“In the morning, you and I will go out and recruit three new slaves to obey me.”

“Thank you, master!”

It was two in the morning, and I was awake. May as well make the most of things...

“Slave Becca, Slave Molly, Slave Juliet!”

“Yes, master!” they all chimed.

“Slave Becca, you will eat Slave Molly’s pussy. Slave Molly, you will eat Slave Juliet’s pussy. Slave Juliet, you will eat Slave Becca’s pussy.”

“Yes, master!” they all chimed happily.

The three of them went down on the floor in a vaguely triangular formation. Each pulled the front of those sexy harem pants down just enough, and soon thereafter, the moans began eminating from the trio.

“Slave Ariel and Slave Stephanie!”

“Yes, master”, they chimed.

“Now then, my youngest slaves, why don’t you hop up into bed with me and show your master just how much you love him...”

The last remnant of who I once was tried to fight the “new me”, but the same scenario had played out over many centuries, and I didn’t stand a chance.

As the girls slid into bed next to me, I had one last fleeting feeling of disgust at the monster the bracelets had turned me into. Fortunately, it didn’t last long...