The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The test subject sat in an overly complicated-looking chair, straining and clearly shouting something although the soundproof glass blocked it out. The subject’s hair was a mess, and her designer suit had a tear on one arm and mud splatters all the way down one side. She was red in the face from the shouting, clearly furious at the well-built man standing in the room with her.

Good. I want someone with fight in her.

Gwen nodded to the technician, who quickly spoke into the microphone.

“Starting Test one-seven-one-B. Chair power on... field in place, calibration in 10 seconds.”

The head-rest of the chair began to light up. The test subject’s eyes began to grow wide, her shouting stopped. She was looking around, then back at the man. She mouthed something, looked like What the fuck is going on but Gwen had never been so good at lip-reading. The woman started to panic, really pulling at the restraints, more screaming, even kicking.

Go on, keep fighting!

“Calibration complete, beginning first cycle.”

She immediately appeared to calm down, straining less. Her face began to relax, her eye-lids drooped slightly. She was mouthing something slowly, but that soon stopped. Soon she looked like a tired, scruffy commuter on a train. Or like someone being slowly programmed.

“First cycle complete. Beginning second cycle.”

Come on, come on work this time, damn you!

After a few minutes, her eyes opened, and she looked at the man. Her mouth open slightly and her eye widened, as if she was surprised by something.

“Second cycle complete.”

The chair lights lowered, then went out. The man stepped forward, and undid the restraints. The woman didn’t move. Gwen’s pulse was hammering, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. She knew she was close, but dammit they kept failing! Gwen took a deep breath, then turned to the tech. “Flip the audio, let’s hear them.”

They could hear the woman’s breathing. She was still staring wide-eyed at the man.

“Stand up. Take off your clothes.". The man’s voice was nice and deep, a good commanding voice. The woman got up, almost shaking. “Wh... what?”

Hmm, interesting.

“Strip!” She looked shocked, but her hands went to the buttons on her blouse. “Uh..ok..I—”

“Silence! Strip!”

Again she looked shocked, but her hands quickened. She quickly took her top off, then the trousers, undid her bra, and then her panties. She stood naked in front of the man, panting heavily now. Her face and neck were tinged red, nipples stiff, eyes wide and staring at the man.

“You are a slave. You are an object, nothing more. Repeat!”

I don’t know why Mat has to shout. She can clearly hear him. I might have to have words with him about that.

“I .. I am a slave? But.. I.. I am a slave. I’m an ..an object. I’m nothing more than an object. I’m a slave. I’m an object, nothing more. I’m a slave.” With each repetition, she sounded more confident, more sure of what she was saying. “I’m a slave. I’m an object, I’m a slave, I’m an object, I’m a —”

“Enough. Your only reason is to bring pleasure to others. You are a sex slave. Repeat.”

“Yes! I’m a sex slave, my only reason is to give pleasure! I’m a sex slave, my only —”

“You desire to be used. Repeat.”

“I only want to be used! Oh, yes! I only want to be used! I want to be used! Please, use me, please use me, please —”

“You use sex to give pleasure. You want to be fucked. Repeat.”

“Yes! Fuck me! Please! Fuck me! Please fuck me! Please!”

“Silence.”

The new slave was now almost shacking with need, panting. A drop trickled down her leg. She was subconsciously pushing her breasts towards the man, inviting him to touch, to feel. To use.

Gwen looked at the slave, and her heart was hammering, and she was breathing hard. She could feel herself getting wet.

Mat commanded the slave to kneel, then to free his cock and suck it. Gwen knew the drill, he would fuck her in a variety of ways, each a bit more degrading than the last, and the slave would do everything she was told. And she would love it. More than that, she would crave commands with everything she was, everything she had. And obedience would trigger pleasure. Absolute, nothing-else-matters, touched-by-the-divine pleasure. The slave would scream at her first slave orgasm, and most likely pass out. Most slaves needed to experience the slave orgasm a few times before their commands to obey finally kept them conscious, before they managed to ride the incredible and unrelenting lust that surged through them. When questioned, no slave could ever remember anything that felt as good as when they came. She had enslaved heroin addicts just to ask them that question, and each said the same—the pleasure of the slave orgasm was the most powerful experience they had ever felt. And they were all happy to be slaves.

Of course they were happy. They were commanded to be!

But she saw it in their faces, the way they acted. The enslavement process tied obedience to the pleasure centres on the brain, hard-wired it. If she could ever undo the process, ex-slaves would probably beg to be re-enslaved, maybe pay everything they had to feel that reward for obedience again. And there lay the problem.

Gwen was not a slave, and didn’t want to be one. But she was jealous of their pleasure. She, their Mistress, couldn’t feel what they felt on a daily basis. Oh, to be sure, when she first perfected the enslavement process, the high she got from the power trip was very good. But after a few years of enslaving everything she fancied (within reason—no point having unwanted attention), the feeling of power she had over them grew a little...dull. The same look of dawning devotion, the same eagerness to please, the same desire to do anything and everything she wanted. And yes the sex was still fun, but dammit she wanted more! She wanted their pleasure!

And so she began her tests. Could the process work in a temporary capacity? Could she enslave someone for an hour, or a day, and then have that person’s will return? Could that person be made to experience the ultimate pleasures of slavery, and then be released afterwards? Could she do that to herself?

But each test failed. No matter how she modified the process, weakened the bind, or limited the hard-wiring, each time they became permanent slaves. It was as if the brain sensed the ultimate drug, and finished the hard-wiring itself. All pseudo-slaves or temporary slaves ended up permanent. And yet she kept going, with the same tenacity that drove her to develop the original slaving process. And each time, she watched the women sink into slavery, she imagined herself in their place, sensed a tiny fraction of the pleasure they would soon be dominated by.

Gwen could see the risks, of course. She could see that such pleasure would be more addictive than any drug. But if she could have just a taste, she was sure she would be ok—and she could always come back for more. If it worked, she would have an unlimited supply. She would be a junkie, but would never run out, bliss on tap 24/7...

This test should last about an hour, then induced sleep for 3 hours to repair. The subject seemed to be a fighter, and the binds were very weak. After an hour, the bindings should collapse, and her original pathways should be restored, helped by sleep. Gwen’s work had shown that the brain was fairly elastic against short-term mappings. As long as the subject didn’t sink too deep.

“Oh yes master, yes! Uh, uh, fuck your, uh, slave master! Yes! Yes! I’m a slave! I’m a slave! Oh fuck I’m a slave! Fuck me! Use me!”

A bleak feeling of despair began to cloud her thoughts. She felt like an addict constantly striving to get a hit, but never quite reaching it. Like constantly having sex and never quite getting the big O. In the dark, when she couldn’t sleep, she would think about sitting down in the chair, and just flicking the switch. Make herself a slave. Then she would have her pleasure, forever. But the thought always terrified her. She knew she would never have the guts to go through with it. And pretending to be a slave to her slaves was only a thin veneer, a pretense. The first time there was a bit of novelty, but in the end her slaves would only do what she wanted them to, she would always be the Mistress.

Now I have to wait. The worst part of all.

She turned and left the new slave being treated to her first slave anal experience. Of course she loved it.

Her alarm chimed.

It’s ready. Oh shit, oh shit...

She felt like she was about to enter her first interview, or find out the results of a school exam. Her heart was beating hard, sweaty hands, shallow breathing. She opened the door. The technician was still sitting there, quietly monitoring and documenting. And the new slave was sitting in the chair, eyes closed. Mat was standing close to her. Her clothes were still on the ground, but he had dressed. A tiny part of her was glad of that—funny, all the slave sex she could possibly want seemed to have made her gay. She had always been a little bit bi, but now the male form just didn’t do it for her. A bit of cock now and then for variety, but in the end she wanted women’s attention. Maybe because they instinctively knew what to do to please her. Or that the female brain seemed a bit more adaptable to the new mappings, so the female slaves could think for themselves a bit more. They could adapt to their mistress’s needs, predict them before she even knew what she wanted. And it was this little difference that had helped convince her that her mad plan might work.

“And?”

The technician turned to Gwen. “20 minutes of REM achieved.”

Good. Time to test it.

“Wake her up. ”

The technician spoke, and Mat walked towards the woman in the chair. He shook her shoulder.

“Wake up.”

She began to stir, frowning, squinting at the light. A hand came up to block it out. Her eyes opened wider, and she looked around. “Where...where am—shit, my head...I feel sick.”

Good! Speaking without being asked!

Mat leaned forward. “Can you stand up?”

She tried squinting at the man that had only recently fucked her unconscious. “Who... my throat hurts. Please, water.”

Mat stood there.

Men and their lack of improvisation She moved the tech out of the way, spoke into the mike. “Get her some water.”

As he left, the woman looked around some more, seemed more aware of herself. She looked down at her clothes on the floor, then at the one-way glass. “Who... who’s there? Where am I? And why the fuck am I naked?”

Gwen was starting to get the shakes. She’s swearing! Maybe she’s ok! Gwen didn’t dare say anything else, she didn’t want to jinx it.

The subject looked around, then quickly got off the chair and moved to her clothes. She looked back at the door, then started to get dressed in a hurry. Gwen watched, fascinated. Autonomous action! The woman managed to get her trousers and bra on by the time Mat came back. She shrank against the wall, then stood up, clutching her blouse against herself.

Mat handed her the water. She looked at it, then at him, but didn’t move.

OK, now the acid test. “Command her.”

Mat looked at the subject. “Strip.”

“What?”

“Strip!”

“Wha.. fuck you asshole! ”

Mat stared at her, as she started to shake with rage.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you know my husband is in the police you dickhead? He’s gonna fucking castrate you!”

Mat stood and stared at her.

“Where the fuck am I anyway?”

She looked around, then started to slide along the wall, away from Mat, still clutching the blouse to her chest. She glanced quickly at the door.

“You’re so fucked!” She suddenly ran to the door, but Mat moved to block her. She started to scream.

Gwen had seen enough. “Ok, trank her, now!”

The woman looked with big eyes at the mirror, then at Mat. She started to scream, beating Mat with her hands, but he grabbed her arms. A woman entered the room, carrying what looked like a fire extinguisher and wearing a face mask, and calmly sprayed the test subject in the face. Her sobs turned into coughing sounds, then she slowly went limp.

“Prep her!”

The scans were clear. The subject had normal brain activity (well, as normal as she was before being brought here, at least). Pleasure-center activity seemed busy but nothing like a slave. And better than that, she had refused an order! Her test worked! Gwen smiled, and nodded to the technician. They had already stripped the subject, and placed her back in the chair. The chair was powered on—same as before, except this time it would be the full slave treatment. She would then be more than happy to tell Gwen exactly how she felt after the tests. As the chair turned on, the subject woke up, but quickly her eyes glassed over as she received her programming. Gwen felt happier than—well, happier than she had felt for a long time. She turned to her technician, smiling ear to ear. “Excellent work. Now leave that and lick me out.” The technician quickly got down on her knees and lifted Gwen’s business-casual skirt for better access. She was already wet, and the tech’s tongue felt wonderful. No panties today, but then here she rarely wore those now, they just got in the way. She looked down at her slave, at the lust clearly evident from servicing her mistress. The tech’s eyes met hers, and she stared back as she started rolling her hips on the chair. She grunted with each slow lick, the tech teasing with her fingers now, her other hand in her own knickers. Gwen held her stare, feeling her orgasm approaching. Soon, she would know what it felt like to be a slave, if only for a moment. The licks quickened, her grunts turning to gasps, and she grabbed the tech’s head and shoved her hips into that delicious tongue. As she came down, she could hear the muffled screams of the tech, and feel the slave shaking. Gwen sat back a bit out of breath, looked over at the panels, her new subject now smiling happily as her core being was being re-written, her purpose in life now much more clearly defined. Another slave, but this time one with extremely valuable information.

Later, when her new slave had been de-briefed (fucked senseless) and then permitted to get cleaned up, Gwen sat down with her in the much more comfortable surroundings of the slave dorms. Gwen could of course call the new slave anything she wanted, but this time she wanted to know what her original name had been.

“Sally, mistress. I was Sally before you made me your slave.”

“Ok Sally, I’ve told you about my little tests, and I want you to tell me how you felt.”

“Yes Mistress! Oh your tests were very clever! When I woke up, I had a bad headache and my throat was sore—but I guess that was partly from Mat using me before I slept. When Mat told me to strip, it was like someone was whispering it in my ear to do what he said, but I was really angry at him, so I ignored it. I felt really scared, but of course I didn’t know how wonderful you would make me feel Mistress! I wanted to escape, and I really wanted to hurt Mat out of revenge, but then I saw the open door and I thought I could get away. Then of course your other slave gassed me, and I woke up your slave. I was so happy!”

“When you were scared, can you remember how you felt about Mat before you went to sleep? When you were fucking him?”

“Oh yes Mistress! I remember feeling so hot and turned on and .. I’m not sure exactly, but I felt very happy to fuck him. But that felt nothing like being your slave Mistress! And I remember how good he made me feel, but when he was standing there with the water, I was more angry at him for making me do those things, and kidnapping me, and I wanted my girlfriend to beat the shit out of Mat. Oh I’m sorry Mistress for having such bad thoughts about one of your slaves, I didn’t know then!”

“It’s ok. So—wait, girlfriend? I thought you said your husband was a cop?”

“Mistress, I’m sorry for lying! My girlfriend works in a flower shop! But she knows some Judo. I was hoping the thought of police might scare Mat. I bet Ginny is worried about me. Oh Mistress, she might cause you trouble! She may come looking for me!”

“It’s ok, she won’t find us. I want you to forget about your girlfriend. Now, even though Mat made you feel great, you still didn’t want to do what he said?”

“Oh no Mistress! Is was like Mat was two different people—the great one that made me feel so hot, and then the not-so-nice one he turned into when I woke up. I could say anything to the new Mat, he just wasn’t that nice. Anyway, guys don’t turn me on, Mistress.”

Gwen thought briefly of how happy Sally had been taking Mat’s cock up her ass. She seemed more than a bit turned on then. Gwen looked appraisingly at Sally. Tits a bit on the small side (Gwen liked them bigger), good hair, a bit skinny for her tastes, nose a bit crooked—not a patch to her hottest slaves, and normally she would just sell her, but Gwen might want to ask her more questions in the future.

“Ok Sally, I want you to go find Jasmine, and tell her I said you should go to Utilities and Cleaning. She’ll tell you what you need.” Gwen looked at her again. “Hmm, but first I think I’ll fuck you. Pass me that strap-on, you looked like you enjoyed anal with Mat.”

“Oh thank you Mistress!” Sally quickly assumed hands-and-knees, watching her Mistress as Gwen stripped and got the strap-on. Sally then held her ass cheeks apart, to give her Mistress easy access. Gwen gently held her hips, then slowly pushed in, holding Sally’s gaze. Sally groaned as her Mistress entered her. “Oh Mistress please fuck me up my … my back passage! My ass! Fuck my, ugh, fuck my ass! I uh, I’m uh, your slave, uh, Mistress! Uh, use, uh, use me! Use me! Oh!”

Gwen was shacking like a leaf. And sitting in the chair.

She tried her new procedure out two more times, each one successful. Both subjects had recovered, and demonstrated resistance to commands after the hour of slavery and a few hours of sleep. Both had similar stories to Sally. She left the last one locked in a room for a week, to see if she would revert back, but nothing happened. Her tests were successful, and now it was time.

And now she was terrified. And so wet her skirt was almost soaked through. Mat was standing next to her, patiently waiting.

“Uh. OK.” Get a grip! This is it, don’t back out now! “Ok. I want the same procedure on me. For the hour, I want you to treat me like a.. like a slave. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

She didn’t have to have Mat, but it just felt right somehow, seeing those girls go through the same thing with him, and now he was going to do her. Fuck she was so turned on!

“Mat, uh, yes strap me down, I don’t want to accidentally get out too early.”

He leaned over and strapped the arms, then the legs. Just like the others. Her mouth was dry, she was breathing hard, and her nipples were rock. She was trapped.

“Uh....”

She paused. This is it.

“Um, Ok. Fuck, do it, enslave me!”

She could hear the hum of the chair, and everything became quiet. So this is what it feels like she thought distractedly its like floating. She could feel pressure in her head, then relaxation and calm washed through her. She would probably be staring straight ahead with a glassy look in her eyes, but even that thought didn’t shake her new-found calm. Then suddenly, blackness, and she was falling.

She opened her eyes. How long...

Her libido suddenly spiked Oh shit! I’m a slave!

She looked at Mat Oh my God! He looks so...so... amazing! His wonderful hands undid the straps.

“Stand Up!” She leapt up. It was like a thousand people shouting at once, all in perfect synchronisation. The force of his words!

“Strip!” She hurried to obey! Oh fuck, I’m obeying! A part of her wanted to try to resist, just to see if she could. No! Her hands had already taken her top and bra off, and she quickly pulled off the skirt. She stood there, staring at him. Was I really gay? How?? He’s so fucking hot!! I so badly want to fuck him! I want to-

“You are a slave. You are an object, nothing more. Repeat!”

An order! Oh it feels so good! “I am a slave! I am an object! I am a slave! I am an object! I am—”

“Your only reason is to bring pleasure to others. You are a sex slave. Repeat.”

Yes! “I only exist to pleasure others! I am a sex slave! I only exist to pleasure others! I am a—”

“You desire to be used. Repeat.”

“I desire only to be used! I desire only to be used! I desire only to be used! I—”

“You use sex to give pleasure. You want to be fucked. Repeat.”

“I want to be fucked, to give pleasure! I want to be fucked, to —”

“Enough.”

The phrases were screaming through her head. She knew they were complete truth. She was a slave! Her whole body ached with the need of it. The endless phrases left so little room for any other thoughts, but she dimly remembered other slaves in the same situation, getting fucked. That tiny part of her head not devoted to screaming her new purpose begged the Universe to fuck her.

“Slave will kneel.”

She almost threw herself to the floor, then assumed what she thought was a suitable position. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her reflection—naked, sweating, hair stuck to her forehead, and a wild look in her eyes. Her Master towered above her.

“Slave will get my cock out like the good little slave she is.”

Shaking hands reached out to unzip his fly. She gasped, realizing that she was holding her breath, and that she must breath normally so that she could obey her Master. Her hand felt hot cock, and she moaned as she pulled it out. She bent her head forward, closing her eyes and smelling Him, then gently leaned forward to put the cock in her mouth -

“Stop slave!”

She froze, tongue out, almost touching her Master’s cock. Is he unhappy with me? What must I do?

“I did not command you to suck my cock, slave. You must wait for my order.” He smiled down at her, and she felt a flood of desire for her Master. He is so kind to me! I must make him happy! I must be a good slave for him! She gazed up at her Master, and tried to hold still, fighting back the incredible need to pleasure her Master, and wait for an order. If felt like such a long time until he finally spoke.

“Good slave.” Again a rush of pleasure, she pleased him! “Now, suck my cock.”

Her attention locked onto His manhood, her hands softly touching, feeling the heat and firmness. Her tongue licked the tip, then her lips kissed him and slowly took him inside. She moaned onto this cock, now the centre of her Universe, as her mouth accepted more and more of Him. It feels so good! I could kneel and just suck for ever! Her hands were stroking His legs, thighs, balls, trying to give as much pleasure as she felt herself. Now I know! Oh, it feels so good! And I haven’t even been fucked yet! The thought make her shiver all over, the flood of feelings she was experiencing would be nothing compared to her first slave orgasm, and the thought scared her. What if it’s too much? What if I—No! Focus on Master’s needs! The thought was a shout in her head, and of course she wanted to be a good slave. A calm settled over her—yes of course, as long as I do what Master wants, everything will be wonderful!

“Enough. Stand and bend over this chair.”

“Yes Master!” She hurriedly stood, the need to suck outweighed by the need to obey. Her legs straight, bent at the waist, hands on the chair for support, she looked back at her Master. He walked towards her, cock in hand, and she saw Him move almost as if in slow motion. His hand on her hips, the cock no longer in view, and then Ooohhh! the tip of His cock brushed her cunt, sending a spike through her, forcing a grunt from her. Time slowed down, He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, and then he pushed—Oh! My! Gooooooooooooooddddddddd!!!!!! She was screaming, but it took a few seconds for her to realise. She could feel fer Orgasm approaching, like a distant rumble that heralded an avalanche. A small and distant part of her was terrified by it, yet the avalanche approached, and it would rip her soul from her -

“Slave will not come until she is commanded.”

She almost sobbed, but she held her Master’s gaze. “Y-ye-yes Master!". The need was so great, no more thoughts could enter her head. Only the feel of the cock invading her, and her Master’s gaze. Everything else faded away. And all around her, the raging inferno of her need to cum, held back only by the need to obey her command. The cock seemed to grow in her, pound into her soft compliant slave flesh. She felt the fires burn away thought, will, self-belief, leaving behind only OBEY! That one thought screamed at her, even as she herself screamed, though she wasn’t even aware. Her Master’s eyes filled her soul, stripped bare of all defenses. In that moment, she submitted. He owned her, everything of her, her mind and body belonged to him! Master! You Own me! I am your slave! I am your slave! I am -

“Cum slave.”

It was dark.

Her thoughts were tangled, a mess. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t think.

Discomfort, her body complained.

Was she dreaming? Something had happened. It was important. She was scared, but so tired. She fell asleep again.

When she woke again, light was coming in through the window. She was lying in her bed. What time was it? Her clock said 10:15 which meant she overslept and-

Fuck!!!

She scrambled out of bed—or tried to, almost fell over. Her limbs were stiff, everything ached from over-use. But she got to her door, and flung her self out. Down the corridor, to the processing chamber. The technician turned to her, smiled and was about to speak when Gwen shouted “Where is he?". The tech looked a bit stunned, and said “Who, Mistress?".

“Ma—"...Mat? Master? Which one! She started to shake, the adrenalin surge fading and leaving behind a very tired body. “Where is M...where is he?”

“Uh, Mistress, Mat is in the slave quarters, I believe pen 3, awaiting your orders. Would you like me to summon him?”

No! He summons me! Not—not...shit!

“Uh, yes. Please. Uh, ask him to come here please. And pass me that robe.”

3 very anxious minutes later, Mat walked through the door. He looked … he looked....

There was no more need racing through her. She felt tired, sore. Her shaking grew worse, and she had to sit down.

“Tell me.. what.. what happened?”

The technician turned to her. “Mistress proceeded with the adapted treatment. Mat proceeded as instructed, and treated you as if you were a slave. You were brought to orgasm a number of times, and then you collapsed. I diagnosed fatigue, and asked the staff to place you in your rooms, to sleep. Based on the previous tests, the effects of the treatment should now have worn off.”

Gwen almost felt like crying. She was so tired! And so...so... what? Disappointed? She knew she shouldn’t be—everything seemed to have worked, she got what she wanted and now she was back to her old self. But she wanted to feel that way again! Her body couldn’t keep up though, it was as if slave-sex had used up all her libido in one go. She just wanted to sleep.

“Ok.” She closed her eyes. “I’m going back to bed.”

She slept for most of the day, woke for some food (she was starving), then slept some more. The next morning, she felt a bit more human. She got up, dressed, and summoned breakfast. The slave bringing breakfast looked familiar—Sally! Of course, her first successful test. She sat at the table while her slave fussed over the food. Smells great! I’m starving! Sally finished, then stood back, waiting for her Mistress.

After eating, Gwen sat back in her chair, looking Sally over. The slave had been processed, default settings—so her breasts were quite a bit larger than before, and elsewhere she looked a bit more trim from the exercise regime. Her makeup was perfect, her tiny maid’s uniform showing her new body off very nicely. Wait, didn’t I send her to cleaning?

“Sally, why are you serving me breakfast? I thought I sent you to, uh where was it, oh yes—Utilities and cleaning.”

An anxious look crossed the slave’s face. “Oh yes Mistress, but Jasmine said I performed so well that I could be elevated to serving you directly. She told me my slave persona had set in particularly well, and that I was extremely devoted. Mistress, do I displease you? Would you like another slave to serve you breakfast?”

Interesting. I wonder if her previous temporary-slave state helped when she was made a slave for good? The thought caused all kinds of tingles in her—after all, she had been through the same almost-slave process. That would mean she would make an excellent slave, too. That thought made her almost groan out loud, and her hands started to shake a bit.

“Ooh, uh—s..slave... lick me out, now! Quickly!”

Sally’s look of concern vanished as she quickly dived to her knees in front of Gwen, helping her Mistress to lift her short dress and—oh yes! Oh fuuuuuck meeee!!! Still in the chair, legs spread wide and holding Sally’s head in place while the slave went to work on her clit, Gwen thought of herself in a maid’s uniform, with big heavy slave-tits, and she came hard, grunting. Oh, fuck! She had to stop her slave, too sensitive, just had to catch her breath. Breathing fast, she looked at Sally, face slick with her come, cleavage on show. It could be her with the slick face... her pussy decided she needed more of Sally’s attention.

They had eventually moved to the bed, and Gwen had Sally fuck her with the strap-on. She had shouted encouragement to her slave, not that the slave had needed any, and it just felt better to degrade herself a little bit. She was even tempted to get Sally to fuck her ass, but in the end she was too tired, and had come too many times to keep going. She fell asleep, with Sally next to her still in her uniform.

When she woke up, it was after mid-day. She decided to get dressed again, and go for a bit of a walk. Her mansion had some beautiful grounds, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been outside. She was almost out the bedroom door when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror—high heels, her shortest skirt, sheer top, no bra. She could clearly see her nipples like hard little pebbles. Now why did I dress like that? Hair pulled back, like she was going out to a club looking for fresh meat. I look hot! She smiled at herself, hands running down her sides. She caught herself thinking what bigger tits would look like—and the thought made her heart beat faster. She looked at her bed—Sally was still asleep, makeup messed up—but decided she wanted something else.

She walking down the corridor to the slave pens, pen 3. Mat was there, patiently waiting on his Mistress’s attentions, or for further duties. She walked in, and he stood up, facing her, waiting for her commands.

Now, what do I want? Sometimes the toughest part about being in command of a mansion full of dedicated slaves with so many possibilities, was deciding what you really wanted. The thought made her smile as she looked him up and down. She walked slowly towards him, looking him in the eye. Her hands softly touched his waist, then began to drift down to his thighs. He stoically waited for his Mistress to command him. She leaned into him, hands up his back, in his hair. She thought about kissing him but decided not to. He feels so good! She could feel his cock through his pants. Mmm, he likes! His face didn’t show, but she knew what he’d like even more. Still watching his eyes, she slowly knelt, undid his belt, pulled the zip down, and gently pulled out his cock. She suddenly thought of what she must look like to him, gazing up with cock inches from her face. She could feel her thighs slick, her heart beating hard enough to hear. Her hand slowly began to pump his cock, then she knelt forward and took him into her mouth. She teased him with her tongue, then got to work with a steady rhythm. She realised her technique probably wasn’t that great, it had been some time since she’d done this, but she didn’t care, she just wanted to make him come. Yes, come in my mouth! Fuck, why is that so hot? She looked up at him again, he was gazing down at her, with her mouth full of cock, on her knees. She groaned into the cock, and pumped faster. She wanted him to enjoy this, she wanted—I want to please him! Her other hand quickly went up her dress to find her snatch, and furiously finger-fucked herself. She could feel her own orgasm building, but she wanted him to come first. Reluctantly, she stopped playing with herself, and tried to bob her head faster. His eyes remained on her, almost cold, uncaring eyes. It felt so degrading, which just made her even hotter, more convinced to make him come. Please come! Fuck, I need to come! A small part of her couldn’t understand why she was waiting, why not just come now, but it just didn’t feel right. She kept going, but realised her jaw was starting to ache. His eyes showed no signs of the need she felt, making her feel like a failure. She lifted her head off his cock, stroking it but still on her knees.

A bit uncertainly, she said, “Do.. do you want to fuck me?”

He paused before answering. “Yes Mistress.”

She sprang to her feet, then bend over the nearest chair, and quickly lifted her skirt out of the way. She looked back, “Please—please fuck me, please!". Matt stepped forward, and both hands on her hips, effortlessly pushed his cock into her. She almost screamed, and her knees almost gave way, and then he was pulling out and pushing in again and “Ooohh Fuucck Meeee!!!” She was so close! But she had to feel him come in her! She couldn’t come first! The slow and steady pounding was making any thinking very hard, but she managed to say, “ugh...ugh... treat...oh treat me like a slave! Fuck me like a slave! Oh, I’m your slave, fuck me, fuck me!".

He said something, but she didn’t hear over her own groans. Then he picked up the pace, no longer steady, now he was really fucking her. Using her, so that he could come. Yes! Oh Yes! That’s it! Fuck yes! Without warning, he slapped her ass, making her flinch and squeeze his cock—oh my god, he’s using me like a whore a slut a slave oh fuck fuck fuck me fuck me—and then he started to slow down. She let out a whine of frustration, then looked back at him. He was grinning at her. She could see from the look in his eyes, how little he thought of her. How low she was compared to him. “Please ... please fuck me... please!” Even her own begging was turning her on.

“You are a slave. Repeat.”

Oh fuck, the mantra! “What? No, I... just please, fuck me! Please—”

“You are a slave! Repeat!”

“Ok...I...I am a slave. I am a slave. I am a slave!”

“Your only reason is to bring pleasure to others. You are a sex slave. Repeat.”

She wasn’t in the training room. She hadn’t just fried her mind in the chair. She could say no to him. She could command him to fuck her! But she didn’t want to. She wanted to do what ever he said. Like a light going off in her head, she realised she had dressed like a slut on the hunt for him, that she had always intended to come here and get told what to do. She wanted to be his object, the receptacle of his come. She kept eye contact as she shouted out her new purpose.

“My only reason is to bring pleasure to others! I am a sex slave! I am your sex slave! Oh yes, fuck this sex slave, please!”

“You desire to be used. You want to be owned. Repeat.”

She was practically screaming her lines now, while at the same time watching him slowly grind his cock into her. She felt light-headed, like she would suddenly pass out, yet her body was shaking with the need to come. He was saying something else, and she repeated it, not even knowing what she was saying anymore. All that mattered was his voice, and that cock in her. More words, more shouting, screaming. More cock, pumping in her ever so slowly. Her mind felt soft, while the red-hot iron brand of truth was searing into her will, forever changing her.

“Enough. Come slave.”

Ohyesohyesohfuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk.... She thought she passed out for a bit, then realised she was still bent over, with his cock in her. He was saying something to her—“Yes Master!". Why did I say that? He was saying something else, it sounded very important. “Yes Master!". Fuck, got to pay attention. He’s saying something about... about...oh, my tits aren’t big enough! I need slave tits! “Yes Master!".

“Now you will come again when I come slave, then you will sleep, but you will remember these things I have told you.”

“Oh yes Master! Fuck me Master!". He picked up the pace again, fast this time, and all she could think of was that he was about to put her to sleep. She was about to obey his command to sleep. She could feel it, another orgasm brewing inside, and the certainty that she would be unconscious soon after she came. Because he commanded it! He grunted, she felt him spasm, and then ohfuckohfuckohfuck!

Morning, maybe. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t work. She felt sore, and couldn’t quite remember where she was. Someone was speaking to her. Must be a slave. They should know not to wake her. But she could smell food, and her body had needs. Other needs at least. She certainly met her needs last night with-

“Oh fuck!”

She sat bolt up-right in her bed, or at least tried to. Wait, this seems really familiar. Sally gazed at her with a look of concern and adoration, the table was set for breakfast, but—where is he, where is Master?

No! Wait, fuck. Fuck! She closed her eyes, tried to remember what happened. She had walked to Ma- she had walked to his room, then they had fucked, and she had played the slave for fun, but then what?

“Sally, how did I get here?”

“Mistress? You, uh you went to bed last night Mistress, at 11 o’clock. You gave orders for no-one to disturb you until this morning.”

I don’t remember! “How long was I with M...” Shit, say his damn name! He’s not my ... my... “How long was I with him?” She desperately hoped Sally would know who she was talking about. And she was more than a little concerned that she couldn’t say his name.

“You were with Mat all afternoon, Mistress. I was worried about you, there was a lot of shouting Mistress, but Mat said it was all Ok, and that you wanted privacy. Then you talked for a long time, and then you went to bed. Are you Ok Mistress? Would you like me to get the Doctor?”

“No.. no, I’m fine.” All afternoon? Why can’t I remember?

She took a deep breath. Well, one thing’s for sure, I can’t see him again soon. Not if I keep blacking out like this. A thought occurred to her, and she looked back at Sally.

“Sally, after the first time you were in the chair, did you have any, uh blackouts? Memory loss? Anything like that?”

“No Mistress. I was fully aware when I was put back into the chair, Mistress.”

Not much help. Gwen slowly got out of bed, and got dressed with Sally’s help. Her body really had been put through its paces. But she felt that for the first time in ages, she was thinking clearly, without wanting to fuck anyone. She needed to calm down a bit, take a break before trying anything else. For starters, she need to say M...

“Mu...mu...mmm...mu...oh, hell.”

And after breakfast, she needed to go see Jasmine. She absent-mindedly cupped her breasts.

“Mistress? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I am. When can it be done?”

“Immediately, if you wish Mistress, although there is a short period of convalescence. What size would you like?”

“The standard size, I think. No, a cup bigger. No, two! I want big!”

“Certainly Mistress. Please, right this way.”

Gwen followed her head slave / resident Doctor to the in-house operation theatre. Of course, Jasmine had performed this operation a number of times—each of her female slaves had had it done. But she had never considered it for herself. Until now, at least. And Sally looked great with big tits. She would too.

She also asked Jasmine about a training regime, when she had recovered sufficiently. Well, if her slaves could manage it, she was damn well sure she could. And although she was no slouch, she would definitely benefit from being a bit more trim. Jasmine had to help her a bit to start with, her new tits kept throwing her balance off, but she got the hang of them soon enough. She hadn’t made any new acquisitions recently, so Jasmine could spend all her time with Gwen. All the other slaves knew their routines by now. At first, Jasmine was unsure how to instruct her Mistress, but she soon learned that Gwen wanted the full service. She wanted to look as good as Sally, so she commanded Jasmine to treat her like a new acquisition. Jasmine took that as a direct command from her Mistress, so she did her best to comply with her Mistress’s wishes.

“Faster slave! You must work to earn your Mistress’s attention!”

Gwen knew that for a new slave, the thought of Mistress’s attention was the greatest possible motivation. For her, it didn’t really work, but she did want to look good, so she pushed through. After a few days of sore muscles, aches and pains, she started to look forward to her training. Jasmine graduated her to the more advanced equipment, meant to train and hone sexual skills at the same time. The cycling machine with an automated phallus was her favourite—she spent many hours slowly being fucked by the machine while being instructed no, commanded by Jasmine to keep going.

Two weeks into the training, Jasmine took her into a room with one machine. Gwen had forgotten about this machine, and at first was a little reluctant, but Jasmine told her to get on, and she had become so used to doing what she was told by Jasmine that she obeyed. It looked a little bit like a motor cycle without wheels, and a screen just above the handle-bars. She was told to strip, and sit on the machine. Jasmine strapped her in place, then switched it on and left the room. Gwen tried hard to remember what would happen, but just then a slick buzzing dildo slowly but surely pushed its way into her. Just as her cunt was getting used to the intrusion, a second one pushed against her rose-bud. She was strapped down, and could do nothing but moan as it slowly pushed its way into her ass. Her big tits were pushed into the machine, and she started feeling tingles in her nipples, making them hard against the machine’s surface. The whole machine started to vibrate slightly, making all her skin suddenly super-sensitive. The dildos began to work in and out of her, and just then the screen began to flicker. She could smell something in the air too, but couldn’t recall what it was.

It was a hypnosis-through-stimulus chair, a very early pre-cursor to her slave-making machines. Now it was used to reinforce slave commands, and reinforce the link between obedience and pleasure. Gwen didn’t think it could work on her—but fuck it feels good! The screen began to show patterns, simple spirals at first, then more complex patterns, and she could start to hear things in the audio. Her tits were on fire, and the dildos kept going at their slow infuriating pace. She started to rock back and forth, trying to get them to speed up. The anal dildo especially filled her completely—she had never really been into anal, but now it felt almost better than the dildo in her cunt. Her groans matched the slow fucking she was getting. She realised the screen had changed—when did that happen? Missed that... - and she could almost hear voices. Something moved beneath her, and she found she could rest her head on something and still stare at the screen. She began to feel very relaxed. The dildos seemed to slow down, and the patterns on the screen slowed too. She definitely heard voices, but couldn’t quite understand it. She started slow blinking, and tried unsuccessfully to stop herself.

“Yes.” Fuck, was that me speaking? I must be getting ... getting.... hyp....oh, what was that...

“Yes.” I feel so relaxed.. my new tits feel great, so glad I...so nice....must be...

“Yes, I am relaxed” I guess I am...I... so relaxed...wow, keep zoning out, even with cock up my... my....so pretty...

“Yes, I love my new slave tits.” oh yes....love my tits...love my tits....love my slave tits...love....

“I am a good slave” ...silly, not a slave... just like... just like it... just....a game...

“I obey” ooh, yeeesss........

Jasmine woke her up, she must have gone to sleep at some point. The screen was off, and she felt the dildos slowly pull out. Her cunt and ass were a bit sore, but she managed to stand up. Hey, did I even come? Her tits still felt on fire, and oh fuck, when did I get them pierced? Gwen stared down at her very impressive tits, and could just see her nipples, with a small ring in each. She couldn’t remember having it done, but...Oh well, they do look good. Does Sally have them as well?

“Mistress, at this point, you would appoint the slave’s purpose. What would you like to do?”

Gwen stared at Jasmine. It took a few seconds for her to realise she was being asked a question. Wait, no I...oh. Yes, I’m the Mistress. She was standing at attention, shoulders back, pushing her tits out in the required posture, and she realised that she was tired and sore. But the last week had been a lot of fun, and she had come quite a few times, so she wasn’t quite ready to give it up.

“I, uh...”

The thought of Sally popped into her head, looking ever so delectable in her pretty maid’s uniform. And Gwen was sure her new tits and hard-worked body would look particularly good in that.

“I want the same uniform as Sally.”

“Yes Mistress. Would Mistress like the associated training?”

Well, I guess, in for a penny... ”Yes.”

“Then I shall proceed as before. Follow me.”

Gwen followed, automatically adopting the same posture as Jasmine. She watched Jasmine’s tight ass as she walked Hmm, it’s been a while, I need to fuck her ... no, that’s not right, she’s the head slave and I’m... She frowned, feeling a bit strange. She knew she was no slave, but the thought of fucking Jasmine just seemed wrong. Even though she did look hot. Maybe if Jasmine fucked her ...oooh, maybe in my uniform... but then I’ll have to wait...oh but that will make it feel even better... maybe with Sally watching... if I was a new recruit, Sally would be senior to me... she could give me commands... oh I like that... Gwen’s head filled with visions of submission and sex while she followed Jasmine. She wasn’t quite sure where her latest game would take her, but she like it so far.

Cleaning, tidying, washing, and more cleaning. She was, unfortunately, a bit bored. Part of her was actually glad—surely that means the process has completely worn off?—but it made work a bit tough going. She did look amazing in her new uniform, but the work was a bit of a drag. Of course, if she were a slave, she wouldn’t care. She stopped for a minute, and looked at the clock. Another two hours! But Miss Jessica, head of cleaning, had given her a task. And she had fucked Gwen’s ass too, once she was properly in her uniform. Miss Jessica said it was an initiation for all her new staff. Gwen had seen herself in the mirror, her huge tits shaking back and forth with each thrust, barely confined in her outfit, while Miss Jessica pounded her from behind. After Miss Jessica was done, she had commanded Gwen to finger herself while saying “I love Miss Jessica!”. Gwen’s cunt was soaking wet even before she started, and she came within seconds. Then Miss Jessica had Gwen lick her out for a bit, before sending her off to work, face still wet. Gwen had caught a glimpse of herself as she was leaving—deep cleavage, very short skirt, face slick, and she almost stopped just to play with herself. But Miss Jessica had given her a task.

Gwen’s tits shook as she polished the floor on her hands and knees, and her skirt kept riding over her ass and flashing her thong. Somehow, her new body and uniform wasn’t really equipped to deal with actual work. It occurred to Gwen that she could get up and stop if she wanted, but it just didn’t seem right. She was having so much fun (well, except for the menial labour), that she didn’t want to spoil it now. So she kept going.

The evening meal was served for all the slaves in the canteen. There was a definite rank system, and senior slaves sat at the head of the tables. Gwen sat at the very end of one of them. She couldn’t see Sally or Jasmine. Miss Jessica sat at the head of her table, and told Gwen to serve for the other utilities slaves. Gwen was half-way though serving when Mat walked into the room.

It was like someone had shone a light on him from above. Her whole attention was fixed on him. Her heart suddenly began to pound in her chest, sweaty palms, short breath that made her tightly contained tits rise and fall. She suddenly wanted a mirror, to make sure her make-up was correct. He walked past her, and sat on one of the other tables. And didn’t even look at her.

Someone was saying something. “New Slave! Keep going!” Quickly, Gwen got back to her task, but kept looking over her shoulder at Mat. Oh, how she wanted to fuck him! How she wanted him to bend her over and fill her with his magnificent cock! She hurriedly finished, then sat down, but she was too wound up to speak. But I could! I mean, I could... I could... She could order him, but... no, not anymore. Somewhere, at some point, she had lost the ability to command him. The idea scared her. She looked at her food, which her bust partially obscured. She suddenly felt like crying. I am....I am the Mistress! But the thought felt hollow, unreal. Here she was, being ordered by slaves, dressed as a maid. She was meant to be in command, but even now the thought of servicing others burned through her like fire. She was desperate to be fucked, and desperate to be told what to do. But I... I’m not a slave! I am not!

She stood up on shaky legs, then quickly made her way out of the canteen, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She almost ran back to her room, on the other side on the mansion. She opened the door, and flung herself on the bed, weeping.

Or at least, she would have done—except, as the door opened, she saw Sally sitting at her private table. Wearing only a velvet robe (my robe!), that was left open slightly to show a bit of flesh. Sally looked up, and smiled.

“Hello Gwen. Jasmine has been to speak with me. She has anticipated your needs, and she has given me new orders. She has told me what I must do. She has told me that I am to treat you like a slave.”

Gwen just stood there, staring in disbelief, unable to take it in.

“Mat has also spoken with me. He says you need to be processed.”

Gwen felt a stab of ice, she couldn’t breath. Her heart felt like it would tear through her chest, and she thought of the Chair. She thought of all those fantasies she had about sitting in the chair, and being made to obey! She involuntarily let out a moan.

“Slave, you will not speak.”

She couldn’t speak. Fuck fuck fuck oh fuck oh fuck om my god! Give her a fucking command! Stop this!

She opened her perfectly-painted mouth, but nothing came out. Her cunt was on fire, and she could feel the rings in her barely-covered tits. She felt light-headed, like she would faint, and so very hot. And she was standing perfectly at attention, pushing those big tits out, and waiting for Sarah to give her a command.

Sally stood up. The robe barely covered her wonderful tits. A thought raced through Gwen’s mind before she could snuff it out I will worship those. She so badly wanted to be fucked. Oh please Sally, please fuck me! Please! Sally walked past Gwen, then turned.

“Follow me, slave.”

She tried to say anything, but all that came out was a gasp. She was breathing too hard. She followed Sally out of the doorway.

Sally walked to the control room, and Gwen followed. All the way, Gwen thought of the machine. What will happen to me? She thought of the feeling she had after the temporary test, of Mat fucking her until she passed out. Oh my god, who will run this place? She thought of cleaning floors, how much she would soon love to do that. How she would soon love to be humiliated by Miss Jessica. I did already, oh fuck oh fuck no no no no! She thought of Jasmine’s tight ass. But mostly she thought of Mat’s cock. She thought of him fucking her. Oh please, let me fuck him before I’m processed! A sick part of her realised she was already partly resigned to this. She could feel down her legs, wet from her cunt. She wouldn’t obey Sally’s command unless she really wanted to, would she? Did she really want this? Who will own me? Oh my god, I will be owned!

They reached the control room. The technician looked up. Will she ever lick me out again? I’m going to lose everything, all my slaves! Sally looked at her.

“Process this slave. Full treatment, and also with deep memory removal. Then send her to Jasmine.” Oh no, please no! There won’t be anything left of me! But the thought of that just made her cunt spasm even more.

“Jasmine has said that you are to be processed as a utilities and cleaning slave, since you have expressed an interest in this. Miss Jessica is apparently keen to make use of you. “ The image of her in the mirror, bent over, being fucked by Miss Jessica sprang into her mind. She thought of how the strap-on felt as it penetrated her ass, and of how hot she had looked. Soon I’ll be ... I’ll be nothing more than a fuck-toy! I can’t do this, it can’t be real!

“But as we are already at capacity with our cleaning slaves, you will be sold after re-training is complete. Now, go into the next room, and sit in the chair.”

Gwen’s body turned and walked into the adjoining room. Gwen’s mind was panicing, trying to stop her body, while at the same time desperately screaming for someone to fuck her. She sat down in the chair. This game has gone far enough, please, this has to stop! The feel of the cold seat against her almost-bare ass froze her thoughts. Sally walked into the room. She carefully put the straps in place. Then she stood in front of Gwen, and looked down at her. Her bare leg came up, and her foot rested on Gwen’s crotch. The toes wiggled their way under Gwen’s short skirt, then found her very, very wet clit. Gwen moaned loudly as the toes slowly started fucking her.

“One last thing. You may make one request before you are processed.”

Sally stood in front of her, and opened her robe slightly, her deep cleavage on show, a hint of neatly trimmed pussy. Sally, her maid, slowly foot-fucking her before she was mind-fucked into complete slavery. And just then, Gwen could think of nothing, except rolling her hips onto those toes. Nothing except Sally’s tits, her legs, how badly she need to lick, to suck. She could hear the tick of the clock, but those toes, her cunt screaming it’s need at her. She needed to say something. An image of Sally, on her knees in a very tight uniform, tits spilling out, face slick with come, and a look of utter devotion. Except Gwen saw her own face now, and she saw even bigger tits with nipple rings trying to push through the uniform. She saw the glassy-eyed look of devotion, obedience, of a slave. She opened her mouth to speak—and then started to come.

Sally watched her Mistress’s eyes roll back, and she listened to her Mistress moan as she came. She waited for her to finish, then pulled her foot back, turned to the technician and nodded. The chair turned on. Gwen’s eyes shot open, her body went rigid, a slight gasp. And then a look of calm descended over her. No, not calm—a blank look. The chair continued it’s work.

Sally left the room.