LEASEHOLD
by trilby else (trilelse@mail.anonymizer.com)
26.
When the music released Jessica from its spell, there was a lost moment. Nothing controlled her. She stood still. She was beaded with sweat under bright lights, balanced on high heels and naked above them.
Then Mistress’ posthypnotic suggestion opened in her mind. She collected the miniskirt, top, and underwear from the stage and came down the side stairs. Her trance left her aware of the employees getting JJ’s ready for the afternoon trade. A couple of them looked at her, but most had seen enough new girls auditioning not to care.
Jessica liked being a routine nude girl. She stopped thinking about it when she reached the table where Mistress and the manager, Reggie, over untouched lime&tonics, had watched her dance. They said nothing to her. She didn’t put her clothes on or sit, but just set them on the empty chair nearest her and came to attention, staring over Reggie’s head.
At Mistress’ left hand, Cecile held the same pose, fully dressed but expressionless.
Reggie looked up at her, then at Mistress. “Some good moves. Cecile’s been teaching her?”
Mistress nodded.
“She’s not bad, and she’s got a good body.” He looked back at Jessica. “Closer?”
“Jessica, present.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Jessica walked around the table and resumed position near him. Her head spun—this was so much more personal than strutting on a stage—but she didn’t even try to resist. Obeying Mistress in public made her pussy hotter than dancing.
Reggie’s appraisal was even cooler than the room’s chill. She endured both.
“All natural. She could use a boob job, actually.”
“I like her shaped like that,” Mistress told him.
He shrugged. “But the way you’ve got her hypnotized, she’d have them done if you told her to?”
“She’d beg for it. If I told her to.”
He looked up at Cecile. “Both of them?”
“Belong to me.” Mistress said it without any emphasis.
Reggie deliberately turned away from the nude girl beside him and faced Her across the table.
“That’s fine. So you’re managing them?
“OK. I hope you’re not looking for a commission. Cecile’s got a good following and this one looks like she could make some money, but frankly I could hire two other girls and they’d do about the same for me. Even if they’re not hypnotized.”
“No commission,” Mistress said. “I’m just keeping my property in order. But hypnotized talent does have value-added.”
“Like blowjobs on command?” Reggie sounded wholly disinterested in having one.
Mistress smiled. “Cecile? How much do they pay you here?”
Cecile droned out an amount without looking away from infinity.
“Cecile, from now on you will be paid twenty percent less than that.”
Reggie’s eyebrows went up.
“You will not notice or discuss the difference. You will accept it and be grateful.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Reggie was watching Cecile. “If this is an act, you’re all out of here. But if not . . .”
He eyed Mistress. “She didn’t even twitch. Some of them would give head on a dime, but giving up cash—”
Mistress nodded. “That’s why I picked that. And she will obey. From now on, just pay her the smaller amount. She’ll give back anything more, and be sincerely confused about why you overpaid her.
“Jessica will cost you twenty percent less than a new girl would, if you hire her.”
She looked up. “Jessica. Dress now.”
“Yes, Mistress.” She stepped away from Reggie. She slid the clothing on without hurry, as though in her own bedroom alone, not even wondering if Reggie was watching her.
“Cecile did twitch, by the way. Inside. Obeying me makes them very happy, and obeying in front of someone else intensifies it. But I have her well-trained, so she doesn’t show it unless she’s told to.”
Reggie looked at them as Jessica smoothed the mini on her thighs and then straightened again.
“Did you do this to them with drugs? Because we don’t need that kind of shit.”
“They’re not drugged, or abused. They’re hypnotized and conditioned, and by now they want to obey me more than anything in the world.”
He leaned back. “Well, I know I didn’t see bruises or scars.
“Are they like this all the time now? Robostrippers would be kinky, but the average customer—”
“Oh, no.” Mistress laughed. “I put them into trance just to make the point. They’ll be sexy and vivacious when they’re working.”
Reggie looked at both girls. “So do I get some ‘trigger phrases’? Or does that cost me the missing twenty percent?”
“Foiled again.” Mistress looked mock-chagrined and they laughed.
“No need for triggers. When I finish with them, they’ll believe they belong—temporarily—to JJ’s, and while here their only desire will be pleasing customers and generating money. They’ll know your voice tells them what they must do, and they’ll obey you.” She grinned. “Subject to safeguards I’ll install.”
Grinning back, Reggie looked down at the table for a moment.
“Can you hypnotize anyone?”
Mistress met his canny stare. “That depends. Like a girl or two here you’d like taught to behave?” They traded very predatory looks. “Or would you just like them . . . receptive when you renegotiate their salaries?”
Reggie laughed. “I don’t guess it’s that easy.” He was less amused when he looked back up at Cecile and Jessica and their intersecting thousand-meter stares. Wondering, perhaps, how easy each girl had been to turn into this.
Then he shrugged and stood, and Mistress did too. “A lot of fuss over some part-timers, but the deal’s right.” They shook hands.
“Part-timers.” Mistress looked at them. “I may be able to discuss that with them, too.”
Reggie stared now, and started to say something about college. But perhaps the way both girls still didn’t react made him reconsider.
“Fine. Cecile knows her schedule, and I’ll call when I know when there’s a spot for Jessica to start.”
He handed her a CD. “Basic club mix that Jessica will dance to. Cecile does, too. Some of the girls make their own playlist—I don’t care as long as it’s got a beat and gets them moving.”
“Jessica’s new,” Mistress said. “She’ll do as she’s told for now, before we see about her taking charge of anything.
“Thank you.” She held up the CD before slipping it into Her purse. “I’ll have her dancing to your tune by the time she starts.”
They grinned at each other.
“Excellent.” Mistress snapped Her fingers.
Jessica and Cecile blinked and then smiled at each other.
“You’re hired,” Mistress told Jessica, and she and Cecile wriggled with pleasure and ran to hug each other.
“Come along, girls.” Mistress was already striding out of the club, Her sunglasses in hand.
“Yes, Sandy!” they chorused, holding hands as they trotted after Her, only dimly aware of how Reggie must be reacting.
On the way to Her car they said nothing, only beaming at each other and the world. She’d put nothing more in their minds to say. As they rode, Cecile in the back and Jessica beside Her, Jessica considered it. It was a tremendously erotic to think of earning money for her owner by becoming a performing sex toy. She might not ever be given to any customer to be fucked, but her only thought under the beat—if the beat let her think—would be making them want her that way.
Any other ambitions she’d ever had wisped away in the heat of seeing herself wrap her legs around the pole and slide up and down on her juice, then kneel to lick it clean.
She thought of Cecile, mindlessly watching her, waiting to take her turn to get people hot and ready to pay. Cecile, too, would want nothing else but this, until Mistress told her something else to want.
Her pussy cooled. Cecile’s face in the light of the all-night diner had been alive with fatigue and hope, not doll-blank as it was now under Her spell. Jessica was too dazed to wonder why the memory found her now. But Cecile had welcomed being tired, then, for the money it brought and the power that getting through school would give her. Not like the women who were dancing naked for a living, for their life.
Mistress was going to hypnotize Cecile into forgetting all about that. Jessica didn’t know why, but that was . . . that was . . .
“Ninety-nine,” she heard herself say, and shook with relief. “Ninety-eight . . . ninety-seven . . .”
She could almost feel Her glance sharply at her, and then heard Cecile ask diffidently what she was saying. Jessica turned involuntarily to look, but didn’t want to stop counting.
Mistress glanced at the road and then in the mirror. “Cecile? Listen only to my voice.
“Watching Jessica dance made you very drowsy. Yes, mmm-hmm, so very drowsy.
“Put yourself to sleep now, dear. You will hear and remember nothing until I wake you.”
Jessica was whispering “. . . eighty-one . . . eighty . . .” as she saw her friend nod slowly and raise her right hand, staring at the forefinger. As Cecile brought it to her face, her eyes crossed and rolled up to follow it. She touched her forehead and shut her eyes, slumping in her seat. Her hand fell to her denimed thigh and flopped open.
Jessica gasped. She slipped into total obedience without knowing the count anymore.
She drifted back to facing forward again. Mistress sensed how subdued she was now, and began to stroke her under the miniskirt. Jessica watched the road without seeing it, loving Her touch.
“Now, slave,” She said conversationally. “Tell me what made you need to do that.”
“I must obey.” Jessica began to.
27.
Just before they reached home, Mistress half-woke Cecile but left both girls entranced. As She pulled in and turned off the car, Jessica stared calmly through the windshield at the end of the garage and listened to her friend’s equally-calm breathing. Just doing that, with no will even to turn or speak to Cecile, gave Jessica a slow sweet burn.
In the silence, Mistress’ voice throbbed exquisitely against Jessica’s thoughts. She was speaking to both Her hypnotized girls, but only the instructions meant for Jessica stayed in Jessica’s mind.
She snapped Her fingers.
Grinning and blushing, they glanced at each other in the mirror as Sandy got out first. It was nice of her to let them spend the trip home in a trance, and she must know how much it aroused them to drop for her so easily.
“Well, study time for me!” Jessica chirped. “I’d never be able to concentrate without your hypnotic training. Just thinking about dancing nude in front of people I don’t even know—”
Sandy smiled archly and turned to Cecile as she led them inside. “So what’s on tap for you?”
Cecile’s smile was a little shakier, and she was still blushing. “Um. That was so hot, having Jess in a trance for that. It really . . . it really turned me on, watching her perform for you. A lot.”
“Your girlfriend’s an ideal subject, Cecile. It’s like Jessica was born to obey orders while asleep.”
They drifted to a stop in the hallway. Her words hung like an erotic tapestry.
“I—Sandy? I know it’s imposing but could you—?” Cecile’s anxiety made her even lovelier. “Could you hypnotize me for a while? Now?”
Sandy’s pitying grin made her squirm. “I just had you hypnotized, Cecile.”
“I know, but . . .” Cecile straightened a little. Her desperation was so obvious that giving in to it seemed to dignify her. “But I guess you triggered me. I don’t even remember going into trance for you. I want to feel myself submit to it. To letting you take control of me.”
“To let me make you obedient?”
Cecile’s nostrils flared. “Yes, Sandy. Please make me obedient.”
She kept her eyes on Sandy’s, and Sandy smiled more warmly. “Of course, dear. Don’t worry. But was there anywhere you had to be, instead?”
Cecile’s eyes widened. “Oh my god! I was going to meet some friends I haven’t . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll call them. I—may I?”
Sandy nodded her permission. “I don’t think you should tell them why, though. That you’re hooked on submitting to a hypnotist. A female one. Are they good friends?”
“Really close.” Cecile was crimson now, hearing it so explicitly. “But, I, uh, can tell them—” She swallowed. “—that I have this really important meeting with my advisor.” She managed to smile. “I mean, it’s really sort of true. You’re the one I need to listen to.”
Sandy’s admiration seemed quite genuine. “You think so well on your feet, Cecile! It’s ironic.
“But I’d prefer that you lie. Tell them something else.”
“B—” Cecile looked confused, and very unhappy. “But why?”
“Because I want you to, Cecile. And I just told you to.” Sandy didn’t seem displeased. “Shouldn’t you obey your hypnotist?”
Cecile nodded, and twitched a little. She slowly took out her cellphone, looking at Sandy, and hit speed-dial by feel.
“Sallie? Yep. Uh-huh. Um—no, I’m not. Something came up.” She kept looking at Sandy, as if Sandy had already started to stare her into trance. Sandy just watched with interest. “Yeah, it’s this project. I’ve been blowing it off and now I need to crack down. I don’t need another excuse—”
She twitched again. “Uh-huh, Sallie. The truth comes out. That’s all you are to me, yes, an excuse. That’s right.” She laughed, and her eyes closed for a second. “And I’m what? You dare to? I’ve killed for less!
“OK. No, I’ll catch you next week sometime. OK. Love ya.” She swallowed again. “Bye.”
She looked at Sandy as she thumbed the call off. “I’ve never, ever lied to her before.”
Sandy took a step closer to her. “You obeyed me, Cecile,” she said, just as quietly. “It makes me want to hypnotize you even more.”
Cecile breathed long and deeply, then looked down at the phone. “May I turn this off, please? I don’t want anyone to disturb what you’re doing to me.”
“For now, Cecile, you may.” Sandy took her hand and closed her fingers lightly over the phone.
Jessica stepped toward them. “Is there anything I can—?”
Sandy touched her forehead.
Jessica was still and silent. Her skin was warm from Mistress’ fingertip even as She withdrew it.
“Oh. Please.” The way Cecile said it made Jessica want to writhe. She just stood still. “S-San . . . Oh. That almost sent me under—just seeing her . . .
“Please. Do that to me.”
“I haven’t trained you for it, Cecile.” She laughed. “Besides—I thought you wanted to be led into trance slowly.”
Cecile didn’t answer that last remark. “But why did you trigger her?”
Mistress glanced at her, then back at Jessica. “When I hypnotize you, I want it to be only the two of us.
“And if I left Jessica awake, she’d just spend the day masturbating. Dreaming about what I’m doing to you.”
Cecile started to laugh but gasped instead.
“Jessica.” Mistress’ smile went just a little colder. “I need to check your wristwatch.”
Jessica didn’t even have the will to nod as her left arm floated up into Mistress’ hand. She let the little beeps slip past her awareness: Mistress had conditioned her to respond to them only when She wished.
“My god.” Cecile sounded both appalled and turned on. “You’ve got her watch—?”
“It makes her easier to control, Cecile. This will just take a moment—she’s quite well-trained.
“Jessica: listen only to me. I am about to hypnotize Cecile into an obedient trance.”
Someone moaned.
“You will not think about that. You will go upstairs and watch the reinforcement visual. You will do nothing else, want nothing else, think nothing else, until the tone awakens you. Then you will stop, and come to me.
“Do you understand, Jessica?”
“Yes.” Still looking ahead of her, she nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“Go now.”
Without looking at them, Jessica went slowly to the staircase and began to ascend. She could hear Cecile breathe.
“That should keep her quiet.” Turning onto the landing, Jessica glimpsed Her leading Cecile by the hand into Her quarters. Cecile looked up at her once.
Methodically Jessica stripped, and put away her clothes. Mistress had implanted the sequence in her in the car, while both girls slept. Being tranced now with Her touch had triggered it. Jessica sat at her desk, hissing with pleasure as her skin hit the cool, smooth chair. Booting up her laptop to obey the command She had let Cecile hear, she opened the file Mistress wanted to alter her with.
Jessica dampened as soon as she saw herself staring blankly out of the screen. Screen-Jessica trembled ever so slightly at what the headphones were pouring into her head. Her breasts had more animation than her eyes.
Seeing it now warmed Jessica’s cunt and opened Mistress’ posthypnotic block. It freed her to remember the hypnotrode and what it did to her mind. She didn’t remember the other times Mistress made her access this file to deepen her obedience, just as she didn’t question how the hypnotrode could record her when it wasn’t a camera.
Jessica just watched herself being brainwashed.
Please.
Oh.
Do that to me.
“I must obey,” screen-Jessica intoned. “I have no will. I must obey. I have no will . . .”
Jessica was chanting it along with the file. Even as she knew that, her own voice lost its tone. Slipping into the soulless drone of her recorded self made her start to forget there were two Jessicas.
There was only one thought.
By then she’d stopped noticing again.
She was too lost to feel the juice pooling under her bare crotch. The waves of pleasure from there made the simple, absolute truths shimmer.
“I must obey. I have no will. I must obey . . .”
When screen-Jessica began to vary her drone, Jessica knew only her. She’d forgotten where and who she was, transfixed by her own glassy eyes. She barely heard the tone that stilled her speech.
Screen-Jessica recited new words. Jessica drank them down.
Her wristwatch was beeping.
Jessica found herself standing, arm across her chest. She waited passively until the electronic tone stopped and left room in her mind for Her next command.
The laptop was dark. She didn’t remember turning it off, or what it had shown her before it put her to sleep. She knew whatever it was had enslaved her more deeply to Mistress than when she’d come up here, and that felt nice.
She had to go to Mistress now.
She padded out of the apartment and went downstairs. Jessica strode through Mistress’ dining room, under the ceiling fan. Jessica no longer remembered the spiral Sun disk on it. Even when it was up, both girls had been allowed to see it only when hypnotized. Jessica didn’t remember being sent up the ladder to remove it, either.
Cecile no longer needed to sunbathe.
Jessica’s trance brought her to the back parlor, where the curtains were drawn. Cecile knelt there, nude and erect and curved in candlelight like a golden sculpture of a slavegirl. Her hands were behind her. Her eyes were wide and glassy, trapped by the pocketwatch Mistress had put into her mind.
“I am a slave,” she moaned. Her cleft gleamed with her excitement as she chanted herself deeper. “I have been hypnotized. I have surrendered my mind and freedom to my hypnotist. Her voice is my mind. What She says is all I know.”
Jessica smelled her.
“I am a slave. I have been hypnotized. I have surrendered my mind and freedom to my hypnotist. Her voice is my mind. What She says is all I know.”
Mistress was touching Jessica’s forehead before Jessica even saw Her, and she stopped being aware of Cecile. “She assimilated the commands perfectly. I could have programmed you to come down sooner. Oh well.
“I need to check your wristwatch.” As Jessica held her hand up, Mistress’ words passed into Jessica’s thoughts, resetting her mind as She reset the alarm.
Then Jessica’s arm was by her side and all she knew was to walk over and kneel between her friend’s legs. Cecile’s blank, pretty face was wide-eyed and tantalizing before hers, close enough to feel the quick breath of her chant. But Jessica body was bending now toward Cecile’s thighs, even as they spread, even as Mistress eased the other girl backward.
She whispered once. Cecile’s recitation became longer, more complex.
Jessica stopped hearing it, knowing only to bend down and lap at Cecile’s wet soft folds. Cecile’s flexing and moaning pleased her, and the way Cecile’s thighs squeezed Jessica’s head excited her, but none of it meant anything. Jessica became nothing but what her lips and tongue and breath were doing to Cecile.
Cecile moaned and stuttered. She writhed and bucked. She didn’t miss a word of her mantra. Jessica’s mouth never left her pussy.
Beeping made Jessica stop. As she rose to her knees, Mistress helped Cecile up off the floor. The girls stared at each other. Cecile had stopped chanting, looking even blanker than before.
Jessica leaned forward to kiss Cecile with her own honey.
Cecile awoke and kissed her back. Then she looked sharply at Jessica, but didn’t leave position.
“Hello, Jess.” She sounded tired, resigned.
“I know you’ve been helping to brainwash me.”
28.
Jessica’s mind floated.
“Brainwash you?”
“Yes,” Cecile said. “I understand now. Everyone’s been brainwashing me since I was young.” She spoke slowly and calmly. “All that crap I believed about making a career, being my own person—my family was hypnotizing me for years into thinking I really wanted that. Each ‘friend’ I’ve been assigned has just been there to reinforce my programming.”
She smiled, her eyes suddenly going as soft and moist as her lips in the candlelight. She licked at her own flavor. “Mistress cleared my mind to see it, Jess. Her hypnosis is more powerful than theirs. It’s still hard to resist the programming—part of me still wants to be ‘free’ and ‘think for myself’—but thanks to Her, at least I know.”
Her smile deepened. “It wasn’t your fault, Jessica. You’re brainwashed, too—just one of their tools. And I know how convincing they can be. How good it can feel just to submit to them and think what you’re told.
“Now I only need to submit to Mistress.”
Cecile’s expression darkened. “I don’t know why they did it. My family. They may have sold me to a corporation when I was still a child, taking money to mold me to grow up into an obedient little execubot, ready to work hard in school and get my degree and fit myself for the power suit and collar. Eighty-hour weeks and vision statements.
“Locking me into heterosex, too, to make sure I got hooked on cock and being the office toy.”
Her gaze blanked as her smile shone. “Fuck them. It doesn’t matter. Mistress is helping me embrace my submission and discover my real purpose in life.
“Now that She’s deprogramming me, She’ll tell me what I truly want.”
Jessica relaxed and dampened. Seeing Cecile this docile, hearing her proclaim this new truth, turned her on and drew answering truths from her.
“I’m so happy I’m not their tool anymore, Ceci.” She returned Ceci’s sedated nod. “I was weak-willed, too, and I don’t even remember how they made me obey, and work on you. But that’s over with. Now that Mistress controls my thoughts, I only obey Her. And She can use me like they did.”
“To brainwash me into obeying Her!” Cecile looked sleepily thrilled. Her hips shifted and she pushed her breasts forward, staying in pose. “And help me become who I really need to be.”
Jessica leaned forward, and they shared a deep, slow kiss. She leaned back and looked at her beautiful friend.
“What is that, Ceci? Who are you really?”
Cecile’s eyes glazed and she shimmied a little. “I am a slave with a very beautiful body.
“My body is my only value. I am destined to serve my owners with my body, not my mind. I knew this, even before I let Mistress enslave me, but my mind was put to sleep and I forgot it. Even then, as a ‘student,’ I was drawn helplessly into using my body instead of my mind, dancing nude to please others.
“Those are my real talents, anyway. Dancing and sex. Pleasing others with my body.”
“I told people I danced for the money. I even told myself that.” She laughed. “And I’m so suggestible, it worked!
“But Mistress helped me know the real reason.”
Mistress Herself walked into the room. Jessica was programmed to keep looking at Cecile, and Cecile was putting herself into trance, so neither girl acknowledged Her. Jessica knew She was pleased.
“Buried there, in all that focus on thinking and brainwork, was the real me.
“A submissive sex object who just wanted to strip and fuck and obey.”
Cecile trembled a little as the thoughts tightened in her head. “I . . . want this. I understand now that trying to use my mind to live and work was foolish. I was just too weak-minded to resist when everyone forced me to. Only their constant reinforcement kept me ‘achieving.’
“But Mistress broke their spell.” Cecile’s vague eyes widened, and her voice grew passionate. “She controls me now! She can mold me to put my body fully to others’ use. Their desires will become mine, as their orders give me purpose.”
Mistress stepped closer and touched Cecile’s head. Cecile stopped reciting and swayed there on her knees. Mistress snapped Her fingers.
Instantly Cecile was fully awake and sharp, looking up as she knelt.
“Mistress!”
“How are you coming along, Cecile?”
“Wonderfully, Mistress! Now that You’ve opened my mind and freed me to obey You, it’s all making so much sense to me!” She blushed. “Sorry about resisting You so much, Mistress. I don’t really remember doing that, but—”
“It’s quite all right, Cecile. That part of you still belongs to them—to your family and what they taught you to think. You’re fighting years of ruthless conditioning, by the people who controlled your mind before you surrendered it to Me.”
“Thank You, Mistress.” Cecile gasped and swallowed, blinking until her eyes were clear. “For not giving up on me.”
She reached down and stroked Cecile’s cheek. Both of Her slaves sighed. “I enjoy it when you resist me, Cecile, and try to obey your original controllers and ‘think’ about your ‘freedom.’ That level of obedience just shows the excellent slave material you were. And still are.”
Cecile arched her back as she knelt. Jessica knew her friend yearned to do something now, anything, as long as it fulfilled some command from Her.
“But when I met You, Mistress, I knew.” Cecile’s whisper was reverent, awed. “My inner need to be hypnotized helped me know Who could do it. It’s why . . . why I craved control. And why I couldn’t help myself. Why I begged You to.” Mistress caressed her again.
“That,” She told Cecile, “was the beginning. Learning to think with that beautiful, needful body of yours instead of your mind. Being strong enough to be weak, and bend to another’s will.
“You were already doing it in the strip club, Cecile.” Jessica saw her friend’s lips move, and vaguely remembered Cecile would correct anyone who said stripper. Now she only nodded, mouth open.
“Becoming the party girl they wanted to imagine, shaking your bare ass for them. Letting their wills replace yours, as their voices and instructions give you purpose.”
Cecile’s eyelids drooped and she kept nodding.
“Yes . . . yes . . . so much easier to forget desiring your own goals, and devote your body and mind to serving others. Helpless to act until they put the new thoughts into yours, but obeying without question once they do.”
Now Cecile blinked and swallowed. She seemed to be trying to rouse herself from the drowsy pleasure of agreeing. “But I . . . have a . . mind . . .”
“Of course you do,” Mistress soothed, taking even the idea away from Cecile. “But . . . how tired it makes you, trying to use it. So much easier to relax and obey.
“It’s what makes you so easy to hypnotize, Cecile.” That charmed Cecile out of her momentary lapse, and she smiled, shyly but proudly.
“Yes, Cecile. When you’re hypnotized, your thoughts can be simple, and few.”
Mistress grinned at her. “Better yet, you don’t need to come up with any thoughts of your own. Others with stronger minds can give you thoughts to think. All you need do, Cecile, is dance, and obey, for others’ pleasure.
“Your mind just gets in the way of obedience. What you need is a life that only calls on you to obey and be pleasing.” Mistress put Her fingertip between Cecile’s eyes, and then drew it back along her head. Cecile’s eyes rolled up.
“Like a good little mare, drawing the load you’re harnessed to, going down the path your bridle’s turned to. Tame and willing.
“You can achieve that under my guidance, Cecile.”
Cecile’s head lolled. “Under your guidance . . . how . . .”
“By obeying me completely, child. By letting me put your whole mind and will to sleep so your body can be enslaved.”
“Obeying . . .” Cecile’s eyes were focusing again, barely. “. . enslaaaaved . . .”
“You can have that if you want, Cecile. Give your days to me and your nights to rooms of strangers.”
“You’ve got me hypnotized, Mistress.” She sighed. “You’re making me want it.”
“Do you mind that?”
Cecile almost sobbed as she shook her head. “N-no. I mean I do. Mind. M-mind. I have no . . . m-mind . . . I c-can’t . . . think . . what did you . . . do . . . to . . .”
“Obey.” Mistress passed Her hand across Cecile’s eyes.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Cecile jerked as if coming. Her head swiveled back to look through Jessica, face blank, almost flaccid. She knelt erect again.
“I am hypnotized,” she intoned. “With each breath I forget what I thought were my goals and dreams. I realize they are pointless. I now dream only of devoting my body to serving others.
“My mind will not think for itself. My mind will not want to.
“My mind can only receive and process commands.
“I am helpless to act until someone puts new thoughts into it. Then I obey without question.”
As she droned on, Cecile’s pussy gleamed with new dew, and her voice faltered now and then, but her tone stayed dazed and her face was empty.
“I am a slave. I am only a mindless tool, content and obedient.
“I exist to be used for sex and work. I have no other hopes or desires.
“The bad old free-girl programming fades from my mind. The people who made me ‘love’ them no longer have that hold on me.
“Each time I reject one of their old commands and replace it with slave-submission, I will orgasm quietly.” She blinked and gasped.
“Each time I approach orgasm, I will know how much it feels like being enslaved.”
She stared silently, no longer aware even of Mistress, knowing only Her words.
“I am hypnotized. With each breath I forget what I thought . . ”
Jessica felt herself rise from her knees. Cecile didn’t notice as she whispered her catechism, and Jessica almost envied her, burning those new truths deeper and deeper into her brain.
She was impelled to walk over to Mistress and wait. Mistress watched Cecile as she brainwashed herself.
“Fetch a towel,” She snapped.
When Jessica returned with it, Mistress pointed at a chair. She’d shed Her slacks and panties, and sat on the towel as soon as Jessica spread it out. Another command put Jessica on her knees before Her, and then there was only Her pussy to worship.
A last glance upward showed Her staring avidly at Cecile, as Her other slave chanted obliviously to etch the programming into her own thoughts. Mistress’ hand gripped Jessica’s hair as She forced her down, and Jessica responded eagerly, working her mouth as she never had before.
As She clenched and bucked around Jessica, Her thighs sometimes loosened enough for Jessica to hear Cecile droning on. “. . . mindless tool . . slave submission . . . orgasm . . . I am hypnotized . . .”
Mistress came hard and often, and then held Jessica’s head gently as Jessica stayed on her knees, blissfully breathing Her scent.
Then She lifted Jessica’s chin, and Jessica fell up into Her eyes.
29.
It had been a couple of days since her audition, but Jessica’s conditioning only allowed her excitement, not impatience. When she was allowed to, she masturbated. She dreamed of everyone who’d pay to watch the strobelights and slamming music make a dancing nude puppet out of her.
Mostly she went to class, and obeyed the Study Plan at home. There’d been a conversation with her friend Louise that Jessica didn’t recall a word of, though she knew speaking with Louise again, if she had to, would trigger the memories. She’d smiled warmly, and Louise had clearly felt better about her mood.
Jessica frigged herself and thought of telling Louise that she’d been that glad because she was her landlady’s ventriloquist-dummy. It had been so incredibly hot to be sitting hug-close to her friend, and completely unable to tell her about being a hypnotized slave or a lesbian plaything. Afterward she’d tried to go to a restroom to get herself off, but called Mistress first and quietly begged permission.
Mistress had said No. As Jessica thanked Her tearfully, grateful for the torment, she heard Mistress’ breathing shift and catch, climaxing at how much She controlled Jessica.
Jessica had loved Her, then, and felt the invisible collar tighten.
Today, as usual, she wore only her wristwatch while she studied. Since Her posthypnotic suggestions helped Jessica to behave, she needed no towel and enjoyed the way the chair felt under her bare ass.
She finished a section, absently looking forward to the quiz when she could discharge the knowledge. Until the Study Plan’s next prompt activated her, her thoughts moved freely.
Cecile hadn’t been by. Mistress may have called her, or she may have called here. Possibly she was another desperate suppliant, asking Her leave to orgasm or pleading to submit to Her voice. Jessica savored the possibility that Cecile had come for another session of Her brainwashing, and that Jessica had been present, even helped, but had been too deeply hypnotized herself to remember anything.
But as Cecile slipped further under Her domination, her desires were softening and being reshaped. Jessica’s pussy tingled over the submissive stripper Cecile was being turned into, but her heart was aching as she still remembered what Cecile had dreamed of becoming, before. Back when they spoke as friends across a table, instead of a pillow.
Back when neither one of them dreamed only of a spinning pocketwatch.
Under the hum from her pussy, it stung to be part of doing this to Cecile. It stung more to know that was what was making it sexier to do. Cecile’s trust made her so helpless.
It . . . it . . .
Something parted inside Jessica. It felt familiar—not like something breaking, but the way her thighs loosened to a soft touch. She let it happen.
As the words rose in her, she put her lips to them. How slick they tasted.
“Ninety-nine,” she breathed. “Ninety-eight . . . ninety-seven . .”
She drowned her stunned conscience, feeling it sink and letting it drawn her down.
“Ninety . . . eighty-nine . . .” The count sucked her mind deeper into the dark.
Jessica stood still and smiled into the empty room, totally obedient.
Her wristwatch began beeping.
Tensing, she raised her arm, forgetting everything. Nothing in her mind made her reset the watch. Her hand flopped to her side.
Suddenly she knew what she must do. She walked to the telephone and looked down.
Jessica picked up the handset. Her pussy sparked when she heard the dialtone, like a lesser trigger that left her awake to enjoy it. And it did control her, implanting a new impulse to press a speed-dial button. As the other phone rang, she picked up a microcassette player and lifted it to the mouthpiece. She stared at the edge of a picture frame in her line of vision.
After the fifth ring Cecile said, “Yes?” sounding preoccupied.
Not speaking, Jessica pressed Play. The player emitted three tones, and she shut it off. They had no effect on her. She forgot them and waited, watching the picture frame.
“Um, could you call back in a few?” Cecile’s harried note sounded almost real.
Jessica said nothing. Cecile responding with those words triggered her only to stop, not to speak. It felt a little cold to say nothing to her friend, but it felt nicer to obey.
“OK,” Cecile said, as though there’d been a reply, and hung up.
Jessica hung up without looking away from the picture frame. She felt neither disappointment nor frustration, just the shifting as new compulsions rearranged her mind.
She pressed Rewind until the player stopped. She looked at her wristwatch, noting the time, and trembled with pleasure. Setting the player down, she resumed attention and looked at the frame again, happy not to have even the slightest desire to slide her eyes over and look at the picture.
Seeing the picture had no function in Jessica’s obedience.
Ninety-nine . . .
Ninety-eight . . .
After emerging from oblivion twice, Jessica could resist the seduction of doing it again. She looked at her watch. Her body felt heavier and her mind felt dull with the deeper trance, but she knew she could still act as programmed.
Cecile had probably had time to obey her own contingency programming, and locate herself to receive the call.
Jessica picked up the handset and pressed speed-dial. She listened to the rings as she held the player to the mouthpiece. She stared at the frame.
“Yes?”
Beep beep beep. Jessica clicked it off.
“I am free now to listen and relax,” Cecile reported.
Jessica was still programmed for silence. She pushed Play again. Mistress’ voice flowed out, soothing Jessica even though the commands were for Cecile. She listened to her friend respond drowsily into the pauses.
None of it stayed in Jessica’s thoughts. She twitched at keywords like obey and trust, but those were transient. It was easy to stay focused on being Mistress’ tool to link player and phone, and to monitor Cecile’s responsiveness.
Cecile sounded deeply responsive.
Then she was murmuring, “I understand. I must always forget after the call ends. Always.”
Jessica waited for the dialtone to control her, and hung up. She turned off the player and lowered it to her side, then pivoted and went downstairs.
Standing before the front door, she realized that it was so deeply soothing that she should stare at it for a while.
The doorbell woke her. Padding forward, she glimpsed Cecile and opened it.
“I had to come,” Cecile murmured. She strode numbly into the hallway as Jessica swung the door open, and then shut it behind her, coming to attention again. Cecile put her hands to her head and bent a little.
“I just got this call,” she said wearily. She looked so sexy in her jeans and flannel shirt, in her dreamy attempt to resist the spell. “Then I had to obey this . . . compulsion . . .”
She looked up and blinked, seeing Jessica nude and still. She gasped, and dragged her rapidly-clearing gaze from Jessica’s body to her placid face.
“Oh god, Jess—your eyes! They’re so strange!”
Jessica stood obediently still. She listened to Cecile fight to keep herself more afraid than envious.
“No. No—you’re . . . she’s got you—” Cecile writhed “—hypnotized . . .”
Cecile, naked and kneeling and fighting for her will. “She’s trained me to respond to seeing you weaken and submit.” For a moment Cecile tried to fight the visual trigger of a hypnotized Jessica, but she was trained to remember how surrender felt. Then it was too late.
Jessica orgasmed without moving a muscle, seeing how defenseless Her training had made Cecile. A few breaths later and Cecile was as still as she was.
Taking her hand, Jessica led her upstairs. Trance kept Cecile dazed and sluggish, but she obeyed Jessica’s whispers and let herself be guided. She stayed upright in the middle of the floor when Jessica told her to. Jessica stepped away.
“Undress,” her own trance made her say.
Watching the other girl disrobe under hypnosis was completely different than seeing her do it to the beat at JJ’s, or even before sex. It was just as erotic.
Soon Cecile was nude and attentive, blankly waiting to be told what to do.
Jessica snapped her fingers.
Cecile’s eyes focused and she looked down at herself. Then she looked quizzically up at Jessica. “Didn’t I come over here earlier?”
“It’s OK, Ceci.” Jessica smiled and posed. “I lose my sense of time, too, when we fuck.”
“Yes—no.” Cecile frowned, trying to clear her mind. “I was home, studying, and then I was in my car, and then . . . you were in the hallway, nude and . . .”
“I need the practice, girlfriend.” Jessica spoke before Cecile could put herself under again. “I’m going to be getting naked a lot once I start at JJ’s!” She started moving, feeling the music between her legs. “Besides, I’ve wanted you in my mouth since I woke up, and I can tell you’ve been a thirsty girl too.”
Cecile visibly woke herself from where that was sending her. “I . . that’s hot, Jess, but you forgot about classes.” She gestured vaguely back to Jessica’s books without managing to look at them. “But they, um, won’t . . . forget about us.” Her cockeyed smile was brave as she tried to will the lust down.
“Damn. I know that’s just some brainwash crap, but—part of me still wants to achieve, and do well. Not to forget.”
Jessica walked slowly past her friend, who seemed too paralyzed to try dressing again. “We can be hypnotized to forget,” she murmured. “And when we are, we won’t need classes, Ceci. Not when we have commands to obey. And we’re soooo obedient when we’re hypnotized.”
“C-commands?”
Jessica stopped next to the boombox. “Or an audience.
“We could study, Ceci. But I’m still too turned on to start trying to improve my mind.” She pressed Play.
Cecile’s eyes widened as the first, deceptively light notes sounded. It was one of the songs she danced to, and she watched the boombox as though it were a snake uncoiling toward her.
“No . . . it’s . . . going . . . to . . .” Dreamily she turned, looking for the door, but the bassline slammed in and she was caught. She froze in mid-turn, and as her face went blank her hips started riding the beat.
Jessica felt her hands float up as if on strings, and opened her thighs to the throb that was already in her mind. She started to move again, and the way Cecile curved and thrust drew her into answering poses. Cecile’s dancing was too erotic to bear, but all Jessica could do was let her body respond. The yearning to touch herself became a need to make her own body move that way.
A few beats later she’d stopped thinking. She stopped doing anything but obey the music. Both girls writhed, completely under its control.
When it ended they swayed, wide-eyed, mindless, aroused.
The voice that spoke to them after an unnoticed while did not startle them out of trance. They were already trained to let it in. They knelt when they were told to. One slept for a while. The other listened.
30.
Jessica moaned.
Pleasure coalesced around her nipple. Hot and cold and sharp. So very very soft.
She was still trying to remember how to think when her breast was freed. She was starting to mew for the feeling to come back when it took her other nipple.
Her thighs twitched to a heartbeat and soft breasts. They tensed around Cecile, who knelt between them, grinning up at her but still suckling.
Jessica tried to laugh but could only moan again. It did break Cecile’s focus as she did laugh, and then Jessica could fall back onto the bed, where she’d been sitting. She pulled Cecile after her and they curled up together. Cecile gave Jessica that after-sex smile that made Jessica want more sex, but Jessica was used to posthypnotic bonds keeping her curbed.
“Mistress had me hypnotized, didn’t She?”
Jessica looked at her. “How do you feel, Ceci?”
“I feel wonderful.” Cecile beamed at her. “I love to be hypnotized, and I can still feel her control all through me.”
She frowned. “But . . . there’s something else. God, it must be that brainwashing, still in me. The family.” She said it with hatred but also hurt.
Jessica felt a faint need to hold Cecile that had nothing to do with how hot her friend looked. But she felt nice watching Mistress’ programming at work inside her friend’s mind. Soon, there’d be no hurt in Cecile’s thoughts.
“It’s inane, but part of me wants to study.” She looked at Jessica with a can-you-believe-this? expression.
“Their brainwashing’s strong, Ceci. And you’re very susceptible to it. It’s natural to feel it slipping back into your mind, trying to control you.”
Cecile’s eyes glazed a little. “Yes. I am very susceptible.”
She hugged herself and brightened. “It’s because I’m so suited to be a hypnotic slave—so submissive and suggestible.” Her eyes were shining now. “I keep realizing that it’s only because Mistress is such a powerful hypnotist that I can even be this free of its power.”
She blinked, suddenly unsure, like a starlet too far from the cuecard. For a moment her gaze at Jessica was too knowing.
Then it dulled again. “Yes. I’m so lucky I found Her.”
Cecile moved her hands and started to cup her breasts, playing lightly with the nipples. “Mmmm. I feel like going downstairs and begging Her to put me under again.
“Ohhh, Jess, she could just leave me like that, deep in trance. Just mindless and happy and doing whatever little thing she put into my head.”
Jessica licked her lips. “Or nothing at all. Just standing there, naked and hypnotized.” She waited for Cecile to gasp and shimmy. “Waiting forever to be commanded . . .”
Cecile looked over at the sound system. “We can practice our routines!
“There’s no pole, but once the music gets into our heads and the beat gets into our pussies, we’ll be so hypnotized we’ll see the audience.”
“I’d love to dance,” Jessica assured her. “But Mistress has the CD we must dance to, and She is . . . doing things to it.”
Cecile’s eyes widened, and she looked a little concerned inside the arousal. But then they narrowed again as she moaned and nodded. “Ohhh . . yesss . . . burning Her commands into the music . . . to burn them into our minds . . . dance and obey Her . . .”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
“We must fuck now,” Cecile said. Her voice was a drone. But it fluttered.
“It will reinforce Her control,” Jessica affirmed, sliding her whole body against Cecile.
“Controoooolllll . . .” Cecile gripped her, hard.
They kissed and used their hands. Jessica felt herself seek Cecile’s ear and whisper “Hypnotized” or “Obedient.” Each time, the other girl jerked or went boneless, moaning.
Something in Jessica stopped her, and made her touch Cecile and whisper to her in a special way that subdued her too. They lay silently for a while.
“Mmmm . . . Jess? Please do that to me again. That . . . thinnnnng . . .”
“We can’t fuck all day, Ceci.”
After a disappointed sigh, Cecile managed to nod. “I know.
“In fact . . . I really wish I was going out to start a set at JJ’s. Just shake my ass and let some customers try to grab it.” She looked across the pillow at Jessica. “In fact, I want them to see me get hypnotized by some cheesy club beat. I want them to see a girl who’s that easy to control, and imagine having me in a room, with just them, hot and slick and ready to play.”
“That’s just using your body, Ceci.” Jessica rolled and knelt up, evaluating her friend. Cecile lay passively beneath her. “Aren’t we paying tuition so they can teach our minds?”
Cecile’s eyes grew strange. “No one ever slid a rolled-up five into my cunt for using my mind.”
Then she blinked. “No. I—no. Something’s . . . wrong. I do have a mind.” She gazed up at Jessica. Deep in the wells of her eyes, awareness glinted dimly.
As if, Jessica noted with icy concern, Cecile’s long-tranquilized mind were awakening, at last, to what Mistress had been turning it into. Mistress had prepared Jessica for this, and Jessica could almost taste Her trigger on her tongue, if Ceci somehow slipped free.
But she smiled inside. Her friend’s eyes were fearful, but her nipples were very stiff. Her juice spoke for itself.
Whatever Mistress had been doing to her was working. The unspoken trigger tasted like more of Cecile’s juice.
Cecile moaned, but her anguish was moist and slippery. “I don’t just want to be a jiggling body up on a st-st-stage . . . ohhh . . . just writhing mindlessly . . . noooo . . .”
Mistress’ instructions kept control of Jessica, and would make her respond if Cecile tried to resist again. She relaxed deliciously into their grip. “But when you dance, it’s so sexy, Ceci,” she said wistfully. “I felt it, when I danced that day. Being an object, something people can watch and think about fucking and not care about as you.”
She watched Cecile go a little pale, but Cecile’s thighs moved together. The other girl flushed as her conditioning took over, and pleasure soaked the fear again. “Mmm, Ceci. Just to be a thing for them. A sexy, naughty fucktoy they could have. Something they can cop a feel of when they slip the money under the G-string.”
She smiled. “Mindless and horny. They could fuck us right there on the floor for less than the bill’s worth.”
Cecile’s head lolled back, shaking from side to side even as she started to touch herself.
“Nooo . . .” But the lesson had already melted itself into Cecile. The more she dreaded becoming that slut, the more it kissed her clit to dream it.
Jessica must reinforce her.
She pouted concern. “Ceci! You seem so confused. Do you need to talk to someone?”
Cecile twitched and looked at her. “Call?” Her eyes cleared slightly. “Someone?”
“Yes.” Jessica stared into her eyes. “Your family. You could ask them—”
“No!” Cecile shrank against the sheets. “They’d just trigger my brainwashing! In two seconds they’d have me stunned and obedient and they’d make me come back to them!” Her head thrashed on the pillow but she couldn’t look away from Jessica.
Her eyes were flatter now. Mistress’ implanted fear excited Cecile and turned her on.
“I’d never be free of them! Never!
“You can break their chains, Cecile.” She watched Cecile sag, more drained than relieved. “Be just what they tried to stop you from being. And right where they wanted you—some upscale office.”
She reached down and began to caress Cecile’s inner thigh. “Imagine, Ceci. If JJ’s did outcalls. You know, strip-grams. We’d be the kind of girls people ordered for each other as a surprise.”
Cecile’s eyes lost focus and her breathing grew ragged.
“Mmmm.” Jessica kept stroking. “That would get me so wet. Being rent-a-pussy, someplace where other people get paid to make decisions.
“Being the only ones there without clothes on. Party favors.”
Cecile looked up at her. Jessica let her fingers slide up, seeking Cecile by her heat. Cecile danced slowly once, with a sweet little cry, when they found her.
“Mmm. Wearing slutty little vinyl microdresses, with a boombox and some handcuffs.”
She licked her lips. “Strut right into the office where some ex-classmate of ours—maybe Louise? mmmm—is the senior associate. She’d watch us lose those dresses to flash tits and pussy at some dweeb that works for her, make him think he’s why we’re wet.”
Her forefinger wrote each syllable in slow cursive against Cecile’s trembling pussy, and Cecile’s eyes tried to lock on hers and roll up at the same time.
“Louise . . . glaring at us.” Jessica took a shuddering breath without pausing in her manipulation. “IM-ing everyone we knew that we’re just strippers now. With no idea what the music was doing to us.
“We’d leave her a business card—not ours, of course, but our owners’. And we’d make it very clear that we were hers, right there, for free. The more she backed away the more we’d come on to her.”
Cecile’s face twisted in humiliation as she lived that. Orgasm took her, but searing that need into her brain only left her hornier.
“Pretending to be hot for people we could supervise. But wouldn’t have hired.” She shivered. “We wouldn’t be office drones—certainly not leaders like Louise.
“Just be the X-rated toys they got to play with when they performed well.”
Cecile climaxed again. Her eyes were shallow and hopeful now.
Jessica sighed. “Half of them would expect us to put out—a few bucks and an empty office. Or even figure we’d do them for free.”
She leaned down and kissed Cecile, who by now couldn’t move. Jessica let the other girl’s lips suck weakly at hers before rising again. Her fingers wrote more lightly on Cecile’s cunt.
“We might. It’d depend on who hired us out and how they told we had to make the client happy.”
She gazed away for a moment. “Maybe they’d pay to watch us fuck each other.
“They might film us doing it, but they wouldn’t pay for that. We’d never know. We’d get a twenty-dollar tip, and some girls-doing-girls pay site would make hundreds a day from the downloads.”
She smiled down into Cecile’s pretty, dreaming face.
“We’d be nothing but playtoys, and porn-pigeons, and we’d come, just thinking about it. Too horny and obedient to ever be the ones who could order strippers for lunch. And pay them to like it.”
The new orgasm left Cecile drooling.
Jessica waited until Cecile’s breathing slowed, and her eyes cleared, and she smiled that sweet after-sex smile again.
Not so sweet. Tainted with dark wet urges now. Part of Cecile was still dancing naked for strangers and ex-friends. Some of them debating who’d fuck her first on a desk they’d never let her sit down to work at.
Jessica lifted her hand and licked Cecile from her fingers, fancying she could taste the new taint. From now on, part of Cecile would always be dancing in that office. Or wishing she were.
Jessica orgasmed silently as another posthypnotic suggestion took over her mind. She looked down and sucked air as she saw Cecile’s gaze fall helplessly into hers.
Her lips were still rich with Ceci-juice. She leaned down and nuzzled Cecile and felt the other girl’s breath quicken at her own scent.
She looked into Cecile’s eyes.
“Taste obedience, slave.”
They kissed. Cecile made a small lost sound into Jessica’s mouth as it sent her into trance.
Triggered with her, by her, Jessica heard nothing.
31.
A pair of depraved schoolgirls posed in front of Mistress in Her parlor. Neither one remembered clearly how she’d gotten there, and that just made them more excited. So did the dildos each girl trembled around in her pussy and ass.
If only they could move . . . but She hadn’t told them to. She just wanted to look at them now.
They wanted to tell Her how they’d disobeyed their teacher, so She could decide how hard to spank them.
The pleated kilts that barely covered their clefts were identical. Their knee socks were not—Cecile wore black, Jessica white. Both girls wore tasseled loafers inside of heels, shaping their legs exquisitely under the kilts. Hands demurely behind them, they stood proudly, thrusting out their chests.
Mistress had told them barebreasted girls were more obedient, and open to suggestion. A moment later, both sheer blouses had floated to Her floor behind them, before they resumed pose. Their panting improved Her view.
Both girls were deeply hypnotized, and were allowed to know it. That made it easier and hotter to stand so still, deliciously unable to look anywhere but over Her head as She sat enjoying them. Each girl yearned to reach under her miniskirt and stroke her bare lips, or to feel the other’s hand or mouth there.
More than that, to feel Mistress’ touch, owning and rewarding and enthralling her. That kept leading their thoughts to how they could please Her. Not to earn Her touch, for slaves were owed nothing. Just because they wanted to please Mistress even more than they wanted Her to give them orgasms.
Jessica and Cecile both knew She’d brainwashed them into thinking that way, and used it to control them. They liked it.
They loved Her for doing it to them.
She spoke. “Slaves, you need my advice. My guidance.”
“Yes, Mistress,” they breathed. “Your guidance.” Jessica felt herself drift even deeper.
“You know you must come to me. Why is that, Cecile?”
“Because You are our hypnotist, Mistress.” Her voice strained as she tightened herself on the dildos, but she kept speaking. “We are too obedient to be able to decide things for ourselves. We must let our hypnotist decide and then tell us what to think.”
Jessica sighed. “We had to do something for You, Mistress.”
Cecile’s hot whisper echoed her. " Yes, Mistress. You rescued us from free will and having to choose our destiny. All we could think of was letting You fuck us, but . . .”
Mistress’ laughter made them both squirm.
Jessica recovered first. “But even we could figure it out eventually, Mistress. You will think of how we can please You.” She sobered. “So much for You to carry—making our decisions, and Your own. We have it so easy as Your slavegirls.”
Mistress shook Her head modestly. “What do you want to do? Jessica? Tell me.”
Jessica almost cried. Mistress only wanted to talk about what they wanted.
“Yes, Mistress. We need to decide whether to quit college and strip fulltime.” She almost hyperventilated with how good it felt to say it aloud.
“Why, girls?” Mistress, in Her wing chair, sounded interested and a little concerned. She studied their long thighs again.
“Um.” Cecile sounded bashful. “Since You hypnotized us and freed our minds from that student-achiever cult our families had us under, it’s just so easy to see school’s a waste. I mean, we just sit still, and wear clothes, and think. People want to fuck us or make us do things, but they have to wait for us to agree. We need to become objects and let people use our bodies for pleasure and money.
“But, um.”
“Yes, child?” Mistress inhaled. The room was fragrant with excited girl.
Cecile writhed. “I keep thinking about Jessica’s audition. It makes me want to play with myself. Ohhh—god. They were like wolves watching a sleepy doe. They wanted to eat her alive.”
Jessica clenched her thighs and then grunted as it fucked the dildo into her.
Cecile smirked. “But I know how Jessica tastes. Oh, Mistress, if you hadn’t hypnotized me to stand still . . .
“Oh god.” Even in her trance, she could blush. “Reggie knew. That you had us both hypnotized. They all know.”
“Does that disturb you, Cecile?”
Shimmy, whimper. “No, Mistress. It makes me wet that they know you control my mind. But . . . it’s weird. I’m fine with prancing around in front of them, backstage, in nothing but heels and makeup. Or talking to one of the guys while I’m slipping a G-string into my ass.
“But this is more than being naked—ohh, better—their knowing You did that to my mind. Knowing they know I obey Someone who turned me into Her puppet, feels so . . .
“Um, I mean, they’ll know we’re controllable, that if they just knew the right words, they could make us do anything they wanted.”
“Like fuck them?”
“Not just them,” Cecile mused. Mistress didn’t disturb her reverie. “They could make us turn tricks. Rent us to people and then erase our memories.”
She smiled. “But You are the one who decides that, Mistress. All we do is listen to Your voice and sleep, then obey. If it really worries me, I can just tell You, and You will hypnotize me into having the right attitude about it.”
Mistress smiled, and for a moment said nothing. Jessica wanted to bleat thanks to Her for the exquisite torment. She stood in her skirt and knee socks and writhed around the wonderful nubbly little plugs, trapped by obedience, waiting for Her command.
For a while there was only their soft, urgent breathing.
“I think you’ve both let me brainwash you into the right attitude, Jessica. You’re completely enslaved to my will by now. But let’s see, shall we? Cecile?”
“Yes, Mistress!” Cecile was thrilled to be tested.
“If you did have a mind and a will—and you were somehow able to use them—how would you consider the decision?”
“Well, Mistress,” Cecile said, “on the one hand there’s completing school, and starting a career with a degree and marketable skills. I would earn financial independence and self-respect. I could choose partners for love, or lust, or because ‘they make me laugh.’ Or I could go without, if I’m not in the mood. There might even be power, if I want it.” She stopped and breathed deeply.
Then Jessica could hear Cecile’s voice oscillate slightly as she worked herself on the dildos. “Or, there’s taking my clothes off and posing for cash, letting strangers feel my body and dream of doing more to me. Being a playtoy in a sleazy back room for anyone who’ll pay a little extra. Used for sex when they realize I’ll obey, maybe sold for it. Too addicted to being fucked—or mindfucked, uhhhh-ahh!—to . . . to . . . think of trying to . . . leave.”
They waited as she squirmed and shivered and came down from it.
“To think,” she breathed, “of being anything but a soft appliance for people to come on.”
“I see, Cecile. You have been limiting your ‘mind’ to things that make you a better slave.”
“Oh, thank you, Mistress!
“But I mean, really, Mistress. How could I throw my life away on ‘success’ and ‘fulfillment’ and ‘freedom,’ some job where I wore clothes all the time and . . . told other people what to do? And lose a precious chance—a chance I might not ever see again—to be broken into an exploited whore?
“It’s really a no-brainer, Mistress.”
32.
Prof Dochmann’s secretary looked up again as Jessica crossed her legs. Jessica could feel the woman’s eyes on her lap. The schoolgirl kilt rode up her thighs, and she still wore nothing under it.
She didn’t know if the woman wanted her, despised her, or just didn’t know what to make of this slut who had an appointment with Dochmann. She didn’t care. Each possibility slapped a different part of the skin she flaunted.
Mistress had made them change miniskirts and wash before letting them dress and go on their errand. Cecile’s car had smelled like sex anyway. Jessica wondered if the scent was still on her. If Prof Dochmann would smell her.
Jessica had looked forward to this. She now remembered kneeling between Mistress’ knees as she’d spoken to the secretary—yesterday? She didn’t know what Cecile had been programmed to do during this appointment. Maybe she’d confessed something similar in trance sometime during her enslavement, and was in another office like this.
It was nice to imagine Cecile in a study carrel in the library, mindlessly turning pages. Or just standing in a janitor’s closet with her eyes closed until her watch alarm went off.
A young man came out of Prof Dochmann’s office and gaped at Jessica. She looked up placidly, but his eyes were already riding her thighs up under the floating hem.
He started to speak, turned under the secretary’s glare, and stumbled out. She imagined him watching her dance instead, bolder in the club with his friends, paying to have her crawl over him and rub her cunt on his clothes. Not shy about looking, or groping.
Jessica didn’t move as the near-orgasm rocked her. She waited like a good girl to be called.
Mistress had programmed her and Cecile with what they must do on campus. Mincing around in their miniskirts had been an underlying turn-on, but each task had turned them into polite automatons as they went from office to office to drop their classes, agree it was too late for any refund, and de-register.
One work-study clerk had looked at her legs, her almost-visible breasts, her placid-zombie gaze, and kept catching her eye. Jessica had half-expected the clerk to ask if she were joining a very erotic cult. Or to join it.
Or try coaxing her into a bathroom stall to use her for a while.
But the commands were too strong, and she’d gone on.
They had no desire to stop at Financial Aid. Mistress said they would just forget about their student loans. She explained that defaulting on them when they came due would help destroy their credit, which would make them more dependent on whoever owned them.
Jessica was already having a hard time even remembering what that office was for. Seeing it through an orgasmic fog robbed what little focus she had. She was smiling foolishly into space, feeling the memory dim, when the woman called her name. She stood, uselessly pulled what there was of the kilt down her hips, and took the folder she’d brought with her.
Prof Dochmann nailed her with a stare as she came in. Before it would have made Jessica almost sick, but now it made her knees weak and her pussy damp. She had nothing to lose here that Mistress wanted her to keep.
Dochmann said nothing as Jessica strutted to the desk and held out the Add/Drop form. She blushed, as if Dochmann could have known she hadn’t sought anyone else’s signature, since she wasn’t trying to retain credits.
“Reason for withdrawal,” the professor read aloud. “Am too stupid to follow clear instruction. Am dropping out to become exotic dancer.” She looked up.
“I should have said ‘stripper’,” Jessica admitted. The older woman’s look was making her wet.
“Is this a practical joke? Or some kind of ‘cry for help’?” Prof Dochmann seemed cautious. Then she reverted to her true self. “Or am I supposed to feel guilty?”
“No, Professor Dochmann. I’ve just been fooling myself, trying to keep up with the others. I wanted to make it in your class. Really.” She cocked her hip and simpered, and watched the professor’s gaze swing unthinkingly to her thighs again.
Dochmann’s nose twitched. Yes! But unlike Jessica the woman had willpower, and gave no other sign she’d picked up the arousal.
“I guess that’s part of being stupid—not knowing when to stop wasting smarter people’s time. I mean, when you’d call me a bimbo or something in class, I should have realized it was true.” She giggled. “But you told me to find my level and do something I could actually understand.
“When I started dancing naked in a club for money, I finally got what you meant.” Giggle. “Well, after my head stopped spinning, I mean. And after I’d come twice from rubbing my—oh. Sorry, Professor.”
Dochmann’s contempt was warm oil on her skin. She wanted to strip now and dance. The other woman just watched her. Jessica momentarily knew Dochmann might have been afraid of this, some kind of sexual misconduct problem, but all she felt was Dochmann’s power.
“I probably should have tried sleeping with some of the faculty after all, but I still thought I could make it on my brains.” She moved her thighs, mesmerizing Dochmann again for a second. “Instead of my, um, talent.” Giggle. “But there’s no point now. And none of them attract me, really.”
She looked at the professor more closely. “I know I’m not your type, ma’am. Even if you liked girls, you’d want someone with class. Someone on your level.” She swallowed.
“But I wanted to let you see this. Because I don’t know why, but I know it pleases you.”
Dochmann locked eyes with her, and said nothing. They were beyond civilized denials.
“And that’s what I do now, ma’am. I please.
“If there’s anything more I can do for you now—it’s yours, Professor. Anything you want me to . . . kiss.” She let herself imagine the floor as she knelt, Dochmann’s panties slipping down.
It made her blush, and pant, and squirm. She was dancing for this woman now, and it was like candy in her mouth.
Dochmann didn’t move for a moment. Then she slashed her signature on the form and held it out to Jessica.
“Get out.”
Satisfaction glowed in Dochmann’s eyes as from a furnace, but the professor betrayed no other sign. A girl less submissive than Jessica wouldn’t have seen it, and instead shriveled under the scorn.
Jessica could enjoy both, and only Mistress’ will kept her hand from her pussy.
She let her hips sway as she left the office. Now that it was safe, she let herself savor a fantasy of stripping as soon as she’d gone in, letting the secretary find her in her socks kneeling before Dochmann, begging for a taste and offering herself until Security dragged her off in a blanket. That would help ensure she never came back here, but Mistress had only wanted this.
It would keep Jessica horny and soft for days.
She met Cecile by the car and almost attacked her. They felt the stares as they kissed and let the comments push them closer. Some of the nastier ones made Jessica start to hump Cecile, but then programming took control of them and they slid in and drove off.
The car still smelled like sex.
“We are really Her slaves now,” Jessica said after a while, and couldn’t resist turning to look. They were just stopping at a light, and Cecile, hands primly locked at ten-and-two on the wheel, could look back. The other girl swiveled her head and then nodded like a doll.
Her eyes and smile were zombie-wide, like a B-movie victim the aliens had subjected to mind control. Jessica dampened, remembering those films now with her new slave perspective. It was searingly erotic to be that helpless and controlled, and know her friend was just as helpless.
“Yes, Jessica.” Cecile spoke with unblinking tranquility. “I love not having a will anymore. I am so grateful to Mistress for taking it from me. Now I can obey Her.”
Smoothly, her head traversed forward again and she watched the light change. Her thigh flexed slightly as she pressed the accelerator, perfectly attentive to traffic.
Jessica’s cellphone rang.
It was Mistress’ number. Jessica tingled, and enjoyed Cecile’s bovine calm as she drove along, too locked in her program even to wonder about the call.
“Hello?” she whispered, listening for her—
“Spherical cybernaut.”
The trigger hit her like a drug. Jessica spasmed as Mistress’ will swept over her and reduced her to a puppet. She sat straighter. The view in the windshield was crystal clear as the hypnotic trance made it stop meaning anything. There was nothing but the voice in her ear and the need to obey it.
Mistress spoke to Her slave’s mind. Her slave sat quietly, hearing nothing, absorbing all.
Then Jessica was aware again, her body aching sweetly in the merciless grip of Her posthypnotic suggestion. “Yes, Mistress.” She savored each word. “I understand. I must obey.”
Without looking away from the road, she put away the phone. Then she rotated her head as Cecile had done before, though that—like everything else—was dim now.
Cecile glanced at her.
“I have been triggered. You are to be hypnotized. We are to be reinstructed.”
Cecile’s eyes widened as she turned back to the road. “I understand.”
“Pull over.” Jessica looked forward again, not looking to see where Cecile would park to obey.
When they stopped she turned again. “Look into my eyes,” she said in a monotone.
Cecile swiveled, breathing faster, and fell into Jessica’s glance.
“Oviparous condominium.”
Cecile jerked, then sagged. Her eyes emptied and her jaw loosened.
“You are hypnotized,” Jessica told her. The command seemed to stiffen her again. “You will sleep and obey.”
“I am hypnotized.” Even in trance, hearing it aroused Jessica. “I will sleep and obey.”
Then, hearing it triggered Jessica. Deeper before she knew it, she implanted Mistress’ commands in the other girl’s mind without hearing them.
She snapped her fingers, and they stared into each other’s clearing eyes.
“We have been reprogrammed,” Cecile told her.
“We will obey Her new instructions,” Jessica responded.
They pivoted to face front. Jessica saw someone else in the parking lot looking in at them curiously, wondering why two hot schoolgirls in a car had been staring at each other. She forgot them completely as Cecile drove back to the street.
Eventually, Jessica realized she’d programmed Cecile to drive them home. She only felt calm.
The girls got out of the car in Her garage and went in to the parlor.
Jessica felt herself smiling warmly as Mistress and another woman rose to greet them. With short dark hair and startling blue eyes, the newcomer had a swimmer’s or diver’s body, sleekly muscular and supple. Jessica imagined being in bed with her, trying to keep up with her stamina and collapsing into her strong arms, helpless if the woman wanted to keep using her.
“Here they are, ‘Vawn.” Mistress smiled.
“Hi, Sandy,” Jessica heard herself say. She felt Her control suppress any strangeness in addressing Her like an equal.
“This is my tenant Jessica, and her girlfriend Cecile.”
The beautiful swimmer had a firm handshake. “Ah! So you’re the, um, dancers. At that club.” She openly admired their legs under the pleated kilts, smiling at the motif. Jessica felt herself nod.
“Welcome back, girls,” Mistress said, seeming flustered. It intrigued Jessica but did not disturb her. Mistress had complete control of her, and Her own moods were beyond Her slave’s thoughts.
“I’d like you to meet . . . my girlfriend,’” Mistress said, after an uncertain glance. The beautiful swimmer was even lovelier when she smiled so reassuringly at Mistress. “Once and future . . . ?
“She’ll be staying with me for a while.
“Girls, this is Siobhan.”