The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The girls were all there. Well, except for Anya, who was the topic of the impromptu meeting.

“So no one has heard from her?” asked Alex.

Silence greeted the question.

“Shit!” Kristy burst out. “She’s supposed to be helping me with this party! It’s in three days! How am I supposed to get everything ready by myself?”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Kristy. Becky’ll help you.”

Kristy looked frantically at Becky, who nodded.

“Okay. So Anya’s officially missing.” Alex sighed. “I’ll call the police.”

“The police?” asked Kathryn, just returned from her boyfriend’s place. “Shouldn’t you call her parents first?”

Alex shrugged. “I guess. But she’s an adult, and if she does turn up soon, there’s no sense in worrying her parents. I mean, what can they do anyhow?”

“What if she went home?”

“She would have called,” Becky said.

“Who would have called?” came a voice from the front door, and eleven heads swiveled to see who it was.

“Anya!”

“Er, hi,” Anya said, looking at the collected sorority. “Um, were we having a meeting?” She had stopped in the door with a duffel bag in each hand.

“Dammit, Anya,” Alex said, “you’ve been gone for four days! You can’t just disappear like that!”

Closing the door with her foot, Anya looked sheepish. “Sorry,” she said. “Nicole and some friends were going to Palm Desert, and they invited me along, and whenever I remembered to call I wasn’t near a phone.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Meeting adjourned.”

As Anya walked over, the girls split into small groups. Half of them headed up to their rooms, Alex and Becky went into the kitchen, and Elisa, Jess, Carrie, and Priscilla scrambled forward to accost Anya.

“Palm Desert?” Priscilla demanded. “Where? Did you go in that Lexus?”

“Um,” Anya said, “how did you know Nicole has a Lexus?”

“Jane told us,” Carrie said, waving the question aside. “So where did you stay? Who went with you? Were there any boys?”

“Just a sec,” Anya said. She handed one of the bags to Jess, standing behind Elisa. “Here, that’s the refill we wanted.” Jess’s eyes widened as her arms took the weight of the bag. Anya winked at her, then turned back to Carrie and Priscilla.

“Okay, here’s the story. Nicole’s friend Lissa has a place out there, near a resort...”

Elisa surreptitiously leaned her head out of her room, and scanned the hallway. No one was in sight, and all the doors were closed.

Quietly, she stepped out, shut the door behind her, and tiptoed down the hallway. The house was quiet enough that she could hear the buzzing of the hallway lights, half of which were left on at night. Didn’t want anyone stumbling on the way to the bathroom at night.

She rapped softly at Anya’s door.

No one answered.

Elisa shot a look both directions down the hall again. No one was in sight. She put her ear to the door.

Someone was talking in a soft voice inside.

Pressing her lips together, Elisa rapped at the door just a fraction harder.

No one answered.

She stood there for a moment, then heard voices downstairs. The front door slammed shut. Crap. Whoever it was, they’d be upstairs in another minute or two.

Elisa had just decided to retreat to her room when Anya’s door opened a crack. Relieved and grumpy, Elisa shoved at the door and slipped inside.

Anya was standing there, smiling at her. Behind her, Jess lay facedown on the bed, naked, her back already glistening.

“What was that about?” Elisa asked in a soft voice. “Why didn’t you let me in?”

“Sorry about that,” Anya said, shutting the door behind Elisa. “I was distracted.” She looked over her shoulder. “Jess, look who’s here.”

Jess, staring into the pillow, turned her head to look at Elisa. A small smile came to her lips. Her eyes were cloudy, slightly crossed. The oil had obviously begun its magic already.

“So,” Anya said, “are you ready to try the new stuff? It’s fantastic.”

“Um. Anya,” Elisa replied, “I, I was thinking...”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we should stop for a while.”

Anya blinked. “Stop? Whyever for?”

“Well,” Elisa said, looking away, “it’s just... you know... some of the other girls are saying that we’re... you know...”

“What? Having fun? Come on, Elisa, get naked. You know you want it.” Anya’s brows lowered, and she leered. “In fact, you need it. You love how good it feels.”

“Anya,” Elisa replied, “don’t just blow me off. I’m serious. I think maybe we should stop.”

Anya’s leer tightened. “Oh, Elisa. You don’t want to stop. You love how it feels when we stroke you.” Anya raised her left hand, and Jess slid off the bed and stood up. “There’s nothing else like it.” Her voice had become low and husky.

Elisa’s eyes flickered over to Jess, totally naked, her shaven pussy soft and smooth. She walked over towards them, small breasts swaying with the rhythm of her steps. Left, right, left, right, went her nipples, already erect.

Elisa caught herself, and looked up into Jess’ eyes. They were unfocused, vague, but not blank the way they usually were when Jess was deep in an oil trance. And there was still a small smile beneath them.

“No,” Elisa said, putting up her hands. “I mean it. Not tonight, okay?”

Jess’ fingers slipped lightly onto her arm, and slid up along it as Jess stepped behind her. The raven-haired girl pressed herself into Elisa’s back, and breathed on her ear. Elisa could feel those hard nipples pressing into her.

“But Elisa,” Anya said, “Jess has been waiting for you to join us all evening. She wants so badly to lick you all over. To remember how your pussy tastes.” Anya reached for the bottom of Elisa’s nightshirt. “And,” she added in a still deeper voice, “so do I.”

“Look,” Elisa said, “just... oh...”

Jess had wrapped both arms around Elisa’s body. Now she slithered floorwards. When her hands caught in Elisa’s waistband, they grabbed it, and took the sweatpants down with her. Anya was lifting up Elisa’s long t-shirt, pulling at Elisa’s arms to get the shirt over them.

“I... don’t.... stop....”

“But Elisa,” Anya whispered, bending to kiss Elisa’s bare stomach, “You don’t really want us to stop. You want us to lick you. To fuck you. We know what you really want.”

Jess had rolled the sweatpants down below Elisa’s knees, and was now sliding her pink panties down to join them. As they slid downward, Jess breathed on Elisa’s smooth ass, then ran a tongue along it.

“Oh...”

Anya pulled up on the shirt again, and Elisa surrendered, lifting her arms and closing her eyes as the shirt rose. When it reached her elbows, though, Anya stopped, and brought the shirt and Elisa’s trapped arms down in front of her. Elisa looked at her with surprise.

“Yes, we know what you want,” Anya said. “Jess, fetch the oil.”

Jess left off licking Elisa’s ass, and stood up. She walked to the bed. Again, Elisa saw that Jess’ entire backside was slick with oil, shining from her neck to the back of her knees. Jess picked up a large, flat bowl from the bed. Facing Elisa and tilting her head to the side, she lifted a paintbrush from it.

Down at her waist, Anya was tying the t-shirt in a knot, trapping Elisa’s wrists. When she was satisfied that the redhead couldn’t get out, Anya let Elisa’s bound hands dangle, and reached for her bra. She unclasped it, and let it fall to the floor.

Elisa’s breathing sped up as she watched Jess return. As the paintbrush rose, she closed her eyes, and exhaled when she felt the cool, oily bristles touch her right breast. She kept them closed as Jess painted her front with oil, delicately tracing her breasts, washing her belly. She felt the oil trickling down her body, down the contours of her hipbones and along her inner thighs.

The brush, filled again with oil, touched a nipple, then moved upwards, to her shoulder, then over. Now Jess was behind her. Slowly, Elisa felt her back being painted with oil.

It was hitting her, now. Her thoughts were slowing, starting to drift away. She opened her eyes to look at Anya, and it took long seconds for them to focus. Anya hadn’t taken off her own clothes, which was a little surprising, but it was getting harder to feel surprise by the minute. She was so relaxed, now, so soft and open and passive...

A thought flitted across her mind that this new batch of oil seemed more powerful, somehow, that it was a surprise she was already... was... what?...

Elisa’s eyes glazed over.

Anya watched Jess paint Elisa. The black-haired girl was very thorough, as she had been instructed to be.

Once Elisa was glistening from the tops of her feet to her neckline, Jess stopped, and waited for further instructions.

“Elisa,” Anya said, “Take the bowl and brush, and paint Jess. Paint her entirely, from her neck to her feet.”

Elisa’s hands rose to take the items from an unresisting Jess. Glassy eyes roamed along Jess’s body, guiding the oily brush to every surface that did not yet glisten.

Soon, both girls, naked and shining with oil, stood mindlessly at attention in front of Anya. She smiled.

“Both of you, get dressed. We have a little trip to take.”

As the girls pulled on panties and clasped bras over oily tits, Anya pulled out a sleek black cell phone. She opened it, and hit only one button.

“Speak,” came a woman’s voice at the other end.

“slave anya has taken control of the two girls,” anya replied. “slave anya is ready for the car to take them all to the Palace.”

“The car is ready. Come outside.”

anya closed the phone, and slipped it into a pocket. Elisa was pulling her shirt back on, over her glistening torso. Jess was pulling up her jeans.

A moment later, anya led her two glassy-eyed friends down the stairs and out of the house.

Usually, when Elisa came out of an oil trance, she was absorbed in some detail around her. The glow stars on Anya’s ceiling, perhaps, or the cute line in the middle of Jess’ nose. Often, it was a less innocent body part.

But this time, what her attention finally caught on was the fact that she was walking somewhere.

It was very strange. Where would she be going? She could swing her head left, and she did. A white wall. She didn’t recognize it. She swung it back forward. Anya’s naked back. That was familiar. The way her hips curved out to frame the bottom of her buttocks was reassuringly the way it should be.

But... ahead of her were two other women. They had nice asses, too, but they were wearing black thongs. Black plastic thongs. And high black boots. Flat ones, like wrestlers wore. And shiny black corsets or something. It was hard to tell, from where Elisa was walking.

Then, conveniently, they stopped. Bustiers, that’s what they were wearing. Shiny black ones. Elisa wondered why. Then she wondered where they were. They had walked into some type of room. Elisa swung her head right. There was a chair, like a dentist’s chair. It had lots of... equipment hanging on it, and on little metal tables next to it.

She should say something. Anya would tell her what was going on. Where was Jess?

A door in the other wall that Elisa hadn’t seen opened. It was white, like the walls. And the floor, and the ceiling. The whole room was white.

The woman who came in was white.

Well, yes, but she was also wearing white, Elisa thought. That’s what I meant. She was very pretty, although her nose was a little long. She had gorgeous pale blue eyes, and straight black hair, as black as Jess’ curly hair. Where was Jess?

The woman in white—a long white dress, made of some sparkly white material—was accompanied by two other women. One of them was dark complected, maybe Indian, and wore a white button-down shirt with a pale blue tie.

And nothing beneath it. Her pussy was as smooth as Jess’.

The other woman was truly white of skin, milk pale, and had long light red hair. Elisa was a redhead, but only because the category was so broad. Her hair was several times darker than this woman’s, and where this woman had pale orange pubic hair, Elisa’s was different from a brunette’s only when the light glinted off it. The pale redhead was dressed in a satiny green corset, her large breasts with pale pink nipples prominently on display above it.

Elisa realized she was a little afraid, and that realization woke her up a bit more.

The woman in white made a non-committal noise, and gestured with a hand. The two women in black plastic stepped aside and turned inward like they were on matched hinges, facing each other as the woman in white walked between them. Her two... attendants?... flanked her as she fixed her gaze on the naked Anya.

“Which is the first one?” asked the woman in white.

“Elisa,” Anya replied, her voice trembling. “She’s—”

“Sh. Just answer.” The woman in white stepped up to Elisa, who realized suddenly that unlike Anya, she was dressed, which confused and relieved her at the same time. It was time to start talking.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she stammered.

The woman in white’s eyebrows raised. She looked at Anya, who was staring at Elisa with a disbelieving expression. Then Anya looked at the woman in white with an expression very like terror.

“It’s okay,” the woman in white said, gesturing, and relief visibly washed over Anya.

Elisa was now very scared.

“Please,” she said, “what’s going on? Where am I?”

“You are in my house,” the woman in white replied. “You are quite safe. Do you recall coming here?”

“No, I don’t... Anya? What’s going on?”

“Be silent, anya,” the woman said. “Talk to me, Elisa. anya is of no interest to you.”

She must have still been under the influence of the oil, for suddenly Anya was of much less interest to her.

“Please,” she said again, “what’s going on?”

“My will,” the woman replied. “Which you will soon come to appreciate.” She waved her hand in the air again. “Number twelve, number forty-nine, please restrain Elisa. yasmine, administer some thought suppressant.”

Elisa’s eyes widened, and she turned to run, but drew up short as she realized that Jess was standing just behind her. Of course—she’d never turned around to look. Her friend’s expression was still blank, though, and she stood mindlessly staring past Elisa at the opposite wall.

Then steely hands grabbed Elisa’s arms. The women in the black plastic bustiers and lace-up boots had her, and pulled her back against the wall. She thrashed, but they had both of her arms in grips like manacles.

“Let me go!” Elisa said, pulling at them.

The woman in white smiled. “They can’t hear you,” she said, coolly. “They can hear only me. Who do you hear?”

Elisa stared at her.

“Relax,” the woman said, steel in her voice, and Elisa stopped thrashing. The woman in white smiled.

The woman in the tie, who had walked over to the chair, stepped in front of Elisa, filling a syringe.

“Hold out her arm, twelve,” the woman said, and Elisa’s arm was irresistibly swung up and forward. She looked away as the mahogany-skinned woman stabbed the needle into her arm. She whimpered as the cold fluid was injected into her arm. Then the needle was withdrawn.

“Good,” the woman in white said, “I am pleased.” Elisa felt the guards shiver. “Release her.”

She was suddenly free, but whatever shot the Indian woman had given her was now a rushing heat throughout Elisa’s body, and wherever it warmed, it relaxed. Elisa slumped against the wall. Her head spun.

“Elisa,” the woman in white said, “go sit in that chair.”

Elisa turned to look at the chair. It looked an awful lot like a dentist’s chair, and Elisa didn’t much like going to the dentist. All the colors in the room were getting brighter. She looked back at the woman in white, who was almost glowing.

“Go sit in the chair,” she said.

Elisa found herself walking to the chair without realizing it. She found herself stepping up to it, looking at the strange equipment that obviously was designed to swing down on whoever occupied the chair.

Then she sat down in it.

“yasmine,” the woman in white said, to the woman in the tie, “oversee this one. Number seventy-four. Begin now.”

“Yes, my Queen,” yasmine replied, and walked out of the room.

“And this is Jess?” the woman in white asked Anya, as though Elisa had never said anything at all.

“Yes, Mistress,” Anya replied. Elisa stared at the back of her blond head. What was wrong with her?

“Good. tracy, I would like you to work on Jess. As we discussed earlier.”

“Yes, my Queen,” the pale redhead replied.

“Take her to room seven. That should have the correct equipment for your purposes.”

“Yes, my Queen,” the redhead replied again. “Jess,” she said, “follow me.”

Jess, obviously still in trance, followed her out of the room.

The woman in white looked at Anya. “Number twelve, number forty-eight,” she said, in a louder voice without looking aside, “return to your schedule.” The two women in shining black turned on their heels and walked from the room, perfectly in step.

The woman in the tie—Elisa couldn’t help but look at her pussy again, darker inner lips just visible as she approached—had entered the room and walked over to the chair. She began to fasten Elisa in, first straps around the wrists, then around her ankles. A strap for her waist, and then one around her forehead, pulling her head back. Elisa’s eyes rolled so that she could keep looking at Anya.

Her friend had sunk to her knees. The woman in white’s hand was on top of her head. She was saying something to Anya, but it was very faint and Elisa couldn’t understand it. Then Anya stood up, and the two of them began to walk out of the room.

Elisa felt a sting, and found that the Indian woman was hooking her up to some sort of medical drip system. More needles. Worry blended back in with the blur of the drug.

“Anya?” Elisa managed. Her voice cracked at the end of the name.

Anya, walking behind the woman in white, showed no sign of having heard. Then she was gone.

Some sort of headset was lowered over Elisa’s head, and the world went dark.

Alex sighed, and leaned back in the chair. The legs creaked ominously.

“What is this, Hide and Go Fucking Seek? Why doesn’t anyone tell me they are leaving?” She leaned forward again, putting her head on the kitchen counter. “This is the absolute last time I volunteer for any sort of job like this.” Head down, she moaned.

A hand tousled her hair, and she looked up. “Come on, Alex,” Anya said, petting the top of her head, “I already said I was sorry. And Jess and Elisa haven’t just disappeared—I told you, they went to Palm Desert.”

“Why?”

“You have great hair,” Anya said, still petting, “you know that?”

Alex batted at Anya’s hand. “Knock it off. You may sleep with girls, but I don’t.”

“Your loss,” Anya shrugged, and walked into the kitchen. “I’m gonna make some Alfredo for dinner—you want any?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“Cool.” Anya flipped open one of the cabinets next to the fridge. “Oooh, my fettucini’s still here! Wow!”

“Wait a minute,” Alex said, “You just changed the subject. Why are Elisa and Jess out in Palm Desert?”

“Nicole took ‘em,” Anya replied, pulling out the pasta and opening the refrigerator. “I told them how much fun I had last weekend, and they wanted to go, and Nicole was cool with it. Why, you want to go? I can hook you up.”

Alex frowned. “I thought Elisa had a game coming up?”

Anya knelt by the fridge, pulling out various items. “Where’s the cheese I had? She didn’t tell me about a game. She wanted to go, I hooked her up. End of story.”

Jane bounced into the kitchen. “Hey, we got the scores back from that Lit quiz. Where’s Elisa?”

“Palm Desert,” Alex said, sighing.

“What? Really?”

“Yup. Anya’s friend Nicole took her and Jess out to that place Anya just got back from.”

“Wow. Why didn’t I get invited?”

Anya had found her cheese, and was feeding unwanted items back into the crowded refrigerator. “You weren’t here when Nicole called. You want to go, I can set it up. Just gimme some time, okay? I don’t want to be a user.”

“Cool,” Jane said. “Hey, Kristy is looking for you about the party. It’s day after tomorrow you know. She’s totally wigging out.”

“Yeah, I’ve been avoiding her. She’s panicking way too early. We’ll be fine. Trust in Anya Lauten, and all will be well.” Anya pulled open a drawer, took out a cheese grater. “Dinner in thirty.”

“Sounds good to me,” Alex said, dropping to the floor. “I’m gonna get in some studying. Call me when it’s ready?”

“Will do,” Anya said, smiling at her.

With a push of a button, the music stopped.

Becky stood back up. “I hereby declare this party over,” she said, yawned, and stretched out her arms.

Alex, Sandy, and Anya were sprawled on the sofa. Empty plastic cups surrounded them like a Lilliputian army.

“Jesus, what a mess,” Alex said, watching Becky mop at a beanbag with a paper towel, then flop down into it.

“Better than spring fling,” Sandy said. ”That was a party. I don’t think anything got busted at all this time. Except for that coffee table James Turk fell into.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to clean up,” Anya said with a yawn. “That’s why I always volunteer for the planning, chicas.”

“Uh-huh. It was a good party, Anya,” Becky said. “You and Kristy did good.”

“Thanks.”

“Where is Kristy, anyways?” Sandy asked. She flipped her sunbleached ponytail over the back of the sofa.

“Went home with one of the Sigma Chis,” Becky replied. “At eleven-thirty or thereabouts.”

“She bailed on her own party at eleven-thirty? Ginchy.”

“I think she wanted out of cleaning detail,” Anya said.

“Well, as head of the house, I hereby declare that no one in this room has to do any cleaning,” Alex replied, waving her hand.

“Rockin,” Sandy said.

“Now that’s a good reason to have stayed up this late,” Becky added.

“So who’s upstairs?” Anya asked.

Sandy held up a hand, and counted on her fingers. “Carrie’s in her room with a boy. Diedre went to bed like half an hour ago. Kathryn left for her boyfriend’s place again. And I dunno where Jane or Priscilla are.”

“And Elisa and Jess never showed up,” Becky added.

“I can’t believe that Elisa and Jess missed the party,” Sandy observed. “That’s totally uncool.”

Alex shrugged. “They’ve earned it. It’s not like either of them have missed anything in the past.”

“Yeah, but, like, it was a party,” Sandy said. “You know?”

“Sandy, you’ve missed two parties.”

“Yeah, but that’s cause I was in Mexico. You can’t surf in Palm Desert.”

Anya laughed. A moment later, the other girls joined in.

“I love a girl who has her priorities in order,” Becky chortled.

“Me too,” Anya said.

Despite Alex’s pronouncement, all four girls were cleaning the common room the following afternoon, along with Carrie and Priscilla.

“Hey,” Carrie said, “what do we do with the broken table?”

“Put it on the back porch,” Becky said, pushing a mop around the floor.

“Can’t,” Sandy said, waving a bottle of Windex. “Deirdre got us that shed we were talking about, and it came disassembled. The porch is all covered with shed bits and stuff.”

“Alright, how about the yard?”

Sandy shrugged. Carrie looked at Becky, who looked at Alex. “Okay,” Alex said, “Take the table out to the yard. We’ll just have to be sure to move it before anyone complains.”

“Gimme a hand here,” Carrie said to Priscilla, who came around the other side of the table. “It’s not that heavy,” she said, picking up one end. “Just awkward.”

“Especially busted like this. Maybe we should just finish the break and carry out two pieces?”

“Nah, it’s easier like this. Okay, go ahead.”

Anya walked out of the kitchen, a sweatband in her short blond hair. “Six of us, we’re going to be done in no time.” She stepped aside as Carrie and Priscilla walked past her with the broken table.

“Yeah, I’m almost finished with the floor,” Becky replied.

The front door flew open. “We’re home!” Jess said in a loud voice, leaping into the room and throwing her arms open. “Miss us?”

Everyone stared at her.

“Jess?” Alex said with disbelief.

Jess was in a short—very short—black skirt, with a silvery sleeveless top. And black patent leather low-rise boots. And makeup. Jess never wore makeup, at least beyond powder and maybe some lipstick. Now her eyelids shimmered like butterfly wings.

“C’est moi! C’est magnifique, non?” She did a slow pirouette in the doorway.

The girls cleaning the room just stared at her. The back door opened and closed.

“Holy shit,” came Carrie’s voice from the kitchen. “Is that Jess?”

Grinning, Jess hopped across the floor. “Sorry we missed the party,” she said, “but we were having oh so much fun. Elisa can vouch for that!”

“Ayup,” Elisa said, appearing behind her in the doorway with suitcases. “Though I think Jess had more fun than I did.”

“You look fantastic,” said Anya, walking up to Jess, making a slow half-circle around her. “Wow... who made you up?”

“I did!” Jess beamed. “Nicole really showed me how makeup can work. I had a blast.”

“It was really something,” Elisa commented a touch drily. “Jess can tell you all about it. But I think our sisters might appreciate it if we went upstairs and got into some work clothes, don’t you think?”

“Oh, oops!” Jess giggled. “Right! Be right back!” She flounced up the stairs. Elisa, carrying the suitcases, followed. At the top of the stairs, Jess stopped, leaned over, and said in a loud voice “sorry we missed the party!” Then she disappeared upstairs. Elisa, rolling her eyes, marched up after her.

There was quiet in the common room for a moment. Then everyone began to talk at once.

“Was that actually Jess?” demanded Becky. “In those clothes?”

“And the makeup!” said Priscilla. “I thought she didn’t care about looking, you know, good.”

“Sassy is the word for it,” Carrie said. “Maybe she just needed to know how. You know, like you don’t feel comfortable speaking French if you only know a little.”

“Well, she certainly seems to have gotten over that,” Alex said. “I don’t know this friend of yours, Anya, but she sure seems to have made an impact on our little wallflower.”

“Oh, she does that to a lot of people,” Anya replied. “It’s part of her charm.”

Friday nights were quiet nights at the house. Inside, at any rate—down the row a boisterous Kappa Lambda Psi party was finally being shut down by the cops. But most of the girls were out, or coming home and going to bed, and those who had stayed in weren’t looking for noise.

Elisa was asleep in her room. Anya and Jess had gone out with some of the other girls—to the Kappa Lambda Psi party, as a matter of fact—but Elisa had demurred and stayed home.

She had something to do.

The homework she’d normally have put off until Sunday was finished by four. None of them had class on Friday, of course, except Becky, but she was a special case. After finishing her homework, Elisa had gone down to the near-campus shopping area, bought some magazines, and had dinner at a little Pho place. Then she came home, read a bit, and went to bed. The noise from down the street didn’t bother her.

Now it was late. The partygoers, including Anya and Jess, were still out, doubtless off to get some early morning eats. Other girls had come in and gone to bed. Inside, all was still.

elisa’s eyes clicked open.

she lay in bed, awaiting Instruction. anya—her Handler—had implanted a control queue in elisa earlier. Now it had woken her up, and elisa lay in bed and waited for it to continue.

An Instruction came. elisa sat up in bed, and quickly dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Finished, she stood barefoot in her room, facing the door. her hands hung at her sides, her eyes stared blankly at the Hendrix poster on the backside of the door.

Another Instruction unspooled. elisa opened the door, looked around. No one else awake. Quietly, she walked down the hall towards the second floor bathroom.

Inside, elisa felt all tingly. she was obeying, focused on following the program that had been implanted in her brain. That’s all she was, after all—a robot, a machine, bound to follow the instructions that relentlessly unfolded in her mind. Built—rebuilt—to obey. And obey is what she would do.

It was terribly arousing.

There was disobedience. It did exist. But it was farther from elisa than the moon. she thought about it. Thought about it a lot. Thought about how impossible it would be to disobey. How unable she was to do anything other than that which she was programmed to do. How utterly enslaved she was.

her helplessness excited her.

she was stopped again, standing at attention in front of the bathroom door. elisa waited. she knew that whatever Instruction presented itself, it owned her.

Like She owned her.

her heart sped up at the thought of Mistress. But then Instruction opened, erasing all thought save that of carrying It out.

she opened the bathroom door, went inside. Along one wall, a long shelf held the toiletries of the second floor girls. In the space which had been Elisa’s were the gifts that Mistress had given her, which elisa had put there earlier that day.

Most of the girls kept their stuff in bags. Made it easy to take off for the weekend, kept things from getting scattered. It was common enough.

But what elisa took out of her new, shiny, black bag, would have surprised most of her floormates.

elisa looked down at what she had retrieved. In one hand, a large bottle of oil. In the other, a syringe.

she wondered what she was about to do.

Instruction bloomed. Turning her head, elisa sought out another shelf. Finding it, she immediately spied her target. A large jar of bath oil beads. Yes. They would be someone’s first step into slavery.

elisa took the jar from the shelf, and sat on the floor. With speed and precision, she used the syringe to suck the contents from each bead. The useless oil was ejected into the bathtub, and down the drain. Then she filled the syringe with Mistress’ gift, and carefully refilled each bead.

It took only moments to complete her task. Once, she considered touching the oil to her own skin, but she had not been instructed to, and she would not deviate from Instruction. Could not deviate. This oil was very potent, much more potent than the oil which had ensnared three silly girls and brought them to Her. This oil was destined for a specific victim, and not the desire of an over-eager slave to return to blissful mindlessness.

Then she was finished. she waited a moment, then Instruction opened in her mind yet again. she replaced the jar on the shelf, replaced the oil and syringe in the bag, and walked back to her room.

When she got there, she knew the next Instruction would put her back to sleep.

She almost came before it happened.

Priscilla liked to party. It’s why she joined a sorority—the partying was built in. You didn’t have to deal with all the hassle of throwing a party whenever you wanted one. Your house threw one, then there was a round of other houses throwing theirs. Tau Epsilon was Priscilla’s ticket to a non-stop cycle of reciprocal partying.

Which was not to say that she didn’t care about school. She had a respectable B average, took interesting classes, did her homework. But Priscilla lived for loud music, dancing, and flirting, preferably with as many people as possible.

It was a lifestyle that took a lot out of a girl. So on Saturdays, after the Thursday and Friday parties but before the Saturday clubbing, she liked to start the day with a long, luxurious bath. It was a habit that the whole house was used to by now, and since few other people were interested in the bathroom Saturday morning, it was never a problem.

As the bath filled, she pulled out her tub toys. A big poofy loofa and apricot body scrub. Shampoo? She batted at her curled hair, decided that it was good enough for the evening, and tied it up in a golden scrunchy. Floating candles, matches. Rubber duck. Jar of bath beads.

Priscilla returned to the tub, turned off the water, and dipped in a toe. Sighing in satisfaction, she stepped in, and lowered herself into the steaming water.

She closed her eyes and wiggled her toes. Yeah, this was the life. She reached into her jar of bath beads, took out a handful.

Pulling them out, Priscilla frowned at her hand. One of them seemed to have popped, and leaked bath oil into the jar. Her hand was now an oily mess. Well, no problem there, she thought as she waved the hand around in the water, but she’d have to clean out the jar. How annoying.

Opening her hand, she watched the little purple beads drift out into the water, their soap casings starting to melt. Well, no reason to deal with that annoyance just yet. It was time to relax. Priscilla flexed her shoulders, rolled her neck, and slid down into the warm water with a satisfied sigh.

Someone was scratching at the door. Bleary, Priscilla tried to focus on it.

She must have dozed off... but why was she so groggy? How long had she been out? Gripping the edge of the tub, Priscilla tried to lever herself to a sitting position, but her arms felt like rubber, and she slid back down with a sigh. Her nipples just broke the surface of the water.

The door opened. It wasn’t a hard lock to pick. Group houses didn’t really want un-pickable locks on bathroom doors. Too many possible emergencies, both in the bathroom or needing it. The other bathrooms must also be in use—Priscilla tried to apologize for taking so long (how long had it been?), but only managed a long string of slurred noises.

God, what was wrong with her? She had to get a hold of herself.

A figure stepped into the bathroom.

Who was it? Straining, Priscilla stared at the figure, who had turned to close the door behind her.

It was Jess.

“Jjjesss?” Priscilla managed. Jess turned around.

She had something in her left hand. A case. Why was she coming to the bathroom with a case? And why didn’t she seem to care that Priscilla was in the tub, naked? And why-

“Priscilla.” Jess smiled at her. “Relax.”

Priscilla relaxed. Every straining muscle went limp. Her head lolled back down to stare at her toes. If she were any looser, the water would dissolve her.

“Whaaa?”

“Stop thinking, Priscilla. Just relax.”

Priscilla’s eyes glassed over as her mind shut down.

Jess approached the tub, looked down at her. “Ah, Priscilla,” she said. “Saturday bath. So predictable. And quite attractive, too, lying there naked like that. Yummy. I’d be tempted to partake, but I have a task to perform.”

Kneeling, Jess opened the case. Inside was a skeletal headset, consisting of a pair of earphones and a bulky set of goggles, connected by a black wire to a small silver cube.

Jess held the headset up. “Hrm. Can’t have Mistress’ valuable tools getting wet.” She chuckled to herself. “Well, except for me. Sit up straight, Priscilla.”

Suddenly her arms were strong, and Priscilla levered herself into perfect sitting posture, back rigid and chest thrust out. Water ran down her body. Her glassy eyes stared at nothing.

Leaning over, Jess lowered the headset onto Priscilla’s head. She slid the earplugs into her ears, adjusted the visor so it balanced perfectly over her eyes. Priscilla’s unfocused eyes now stared into blackness.

“Ready, Priscilla? Good. Here we go,” Jess said, and pushed a button on the silver cube. The tops of Priscilla’s cheeks, visible under the visor, began to flicker with reflected light.

Satisfied, jessica stood up. she looked at the naked girl in the tub, headset on, programming just beginning to burn itself into her mind, and felt the sexual tingle of having succeeded in her task.

But she wasn’t done yet. jessica walked to the bathroom door, and leaned against it. It wouldn’t do to have one of the unprocessed girls walking in. No, that would spoil the surprise, and Priscilla had several hours of processing ahead of her. jessica wouldn’t receive her full reward for some time yet.

However, watching Priscilla’s mouth start to slowly move, repeating the thoughts burrowing into her ears, jessica did allow herself to suck a finger, and slide a hand into her panties.

It was just her full reward she had to get from priscilla.

Becky was sitting in the common room, paging through a textbook.

Becky had joined a sorority for exactly the same reason as Priscilla, ironically, but from a very different perspective. Becky wanted to be an engineer, and the courseload she was taking didn’t allow her the time it took to throw parties. So she kept up the house’s grade point average by acing her classes, and they kept up her social life by throwing parties.

Someone was bounding down the stairs, and Becky looked up to see Jess skip down the last couple of stairs. She was in forest green sweats, but had somehow put on eyeshadow and lipstick to match.

Whatever impression Anya’s friend had made on Jess, it certainly seemed to have been profound. Wearing makeup—and well-coordinated makeup, no less—with sweats was so odd for the formerly shy girl as to be almost anti-Jess.

Well, whatever. College was for broadening your horizons, right?

Speaking of, she had some tutoring to do.

“Hey, Jess,” Becky called, as the sorority’s newest fashion plate walked to the kitchen.

“Yes?” Jess replied, stopping.

“Is Priscilla up there?”

“She’s taking her bath,” Jess said. “I think she started late.” She smiled wryly. “After last night, I can understand why, too. Anyway, I went to use the bathroom, and she said not to bug her for another hour.”

“Oh. I was supposed to help her with her calculus this afternoon.”

“Can it wait an hour?”

“I guess.”

“Cool. She sounded like she was really enjoying her soak.”

“Alright, well, thanks.”

“Any time,” Jess replied, winking.

Becky looked at her book, then back up at Jess, who had resumed her walk to the kitchen. “Say, uh, Jess?”

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say, uh, you’ve been looking really good the last couple of days. The makeup and all. It works for you.”

“Thanks! Anya’s friend really opened my eyes. Showed me how good women can look, and, well... maybe I’ll share some tips with you sometime. Er, not that you need them.”

Becky laughed. “No offense taken. Yeah, that could be fun.”

“Let’s plan on it, then,” Jess said. “I’ll enjoy it.”

elisa’s eyes clicked open. It was late, again.

she sat up, and waited. she could remember her handler—anya—programming her earlier, but the nature of her program was forgotten. locked away.

Which was at it should be.

Instruction bloomed, and elisa stood up. From the back of the chair, she took her robe, put it on. then she walked to the shelf where she had unpacked still other of Mistress’ gifts. The thought of Mistress made her breath quicken, but she was unaware of it. she was only thinking of obeying the Instruction.

From the shelf, she took the spray bottle. It was heavy—it had already been filled, perhaps by her. After a moment, another Instruction unfolded, and elisa left her room.

The three a.m. hallway was quiet.

At the correct door, she stopped. elisa waited. She could wait forever, but she knew she would not have to. The pauses served to reinforce and hone her perfect obedience, and she loved them for that.

The next Instruction clicked into place. Quietly, she turned the handle. Most girls kept their doors locked, but Carrie rarely bothered. Silently, elisa slipped into the room. Her chin slowly dipped, until her fixed gaze was staring at the sleeping form on the bed.

Carrie was asleep facing the door, her comforter wadded between her thighs like a lover. She was in pajamas, the shirt unbuttoned almost to her bellybutton. Waiting for Instruction, elisa savored Carrie’s sleeping form.

Then Instruction came. elisa walked softly to the bed. Very, very softly. she was not to wake the sleeper.

Smoothly, quietly, she raised her arm, until the spray bottle pointed at Carrie. she kept raising it, until it pointed into the air above the sleeping girl. elisa stared at the sleeper, keeping certain she was not disturbed.

Then, slowly and evenly, she pulled the trigger.

A fine mist blew from the plastic tip, into the air above the sleeping girl. It floated a moment, hesitating, then slowly drifted down onto her, tiny motes lighting on her hair, her cheek. Adhering to the fibers of the pajama shirt.

elisa stared. Carrie didn’t move. The sleeper had not awakened.

Slowly and evenly, elisa squeezed again.

jessica woke up. She waited while thoughts sorted themselves in her head. Then she smiled, and swiveled out of bed.

Life was so good. Mistress.... Mistress. It was a thought complete in itself. No adjective, no phrase could describe Her, or jessica’s devotion to her. It was like describing the temperature of the sun.

she pulled on her nightshirt. A thought of makeup flitted across her mind, and she banished it with a self-amused wave of a hand. The girls she was about to see, she had no need to impress.

Simply walking down the hall to anya’s room, jessica felt like she was floating. she was so free, so unconcerned. Jess had always worried about everyone else. What everyone was thinking. What a stupid girl. Always feeling so inadequate.

jessica worried only about her Owner, and felt liberated all the time...

she tapped on the door.

elisa answered, staring at and through jessica with empty eyes.

“Let me in, seventy-four,” jessica whispered.

elisa stepped back, allowing jessica into the room, then closed the door. jessica paused to admire elisa, her muscled athlete’s body naked save for a pair of black lace-up wrestler’s boots. As she returned to her stance behind the door, elisa’s oiled skin glinted in the room’s yellow light. jessica wanted to drop to her knees and taste her again, right there.

But she was here on Instruction. Turning to the bed, she saw anya. her short blonde hair was a mound of platinum fur between smooth tanned thighs. Higher up the bed, Carrie—carrie—moaned.

It would have been nice to watch, and nicer to join in, but jessica’s obedience to her implanted task was beyond question.

“i am here, handler.”

With a wet slurp, anya disengaged. Naked but unoiled, she lifted herself from between Carrie’s legs, and smiled at jessica.

“jessica.” anya paused, and her eyes rolled up and closed. the handler was receiving her own Instruction.

Then she opened her eyes again, and they were unfocused, glassy like elisa’s.

“Open for programming, slave jessica,” anya intoned.

jessica’s face went blank, her smile fading and her gaze lifting from anya’s tits to a point in space well beyond her.

“slave jessica is open,” she replied in a flat voice.

“slave priscilla’s mind has taken initial imprinting. slave jessica will continue the imprinting until morning. here are your commands...”

Sunday nights were usually quiet. The time had come to pay the piper for a recreational weekend, and most of the girls were upstairs studying or working on homework due all too soon.

Kristy, however, was in the common room watching television. Sometimes you had monday deadlines, sometimes you didn’t.

The front door opened, and Carrie and Priscilla walked in. Kristy smiled at them.

“Hey you two! Where have you been?”

“We just got back from the movies,” Carrie replied, taking off her jacket and tossing it onto a wall coathook.

“Cool. What did you see?”

“Oh, uh...” Carrie giggled, “I’m not sure. We were kind of busy in the back of the theater.” She squeezed Priscilla’s hand, and they both giggled together.

Kristy sighed dramatically. “You two are insatiable. Who were you with? Did you take that Rho Delt you’ve been talking about?”

“Oh, we were by ourselves,” Priscilla said. “What, you thought we were out with some boys?”

“Boys,” Carrie breathed dreamily, “who needs them?”

Kristy goggled at her. “But.. but...” she objected, eyebrows climbing her forehead, “you’re not... you’ve always... well, you’ve always been after boys.”

Carrie favored her with an unfocused smile. “I suppose that’s true. How silly I used to be.” Still smiling vacantly, she turned her head to look at Priscilla. Priscilla smiled back at her, and Kristy could see their arms tighten around each other. Carrie looked back at Kristy, blissful.

“So silly.”

Kristy stared, open-mouthed, as they walked together up the stairs.