The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Prologue: The Best Sex of My Life

“This will be the best sex of your life, slave!” my Master grunted as he started thrusting into me.

He always said this just before he entered me, and I could always feel the truth of what he was saying burn itself into me. The conditioning he had given me made sure of that. Every single time it was the best sex of my life... until the next time. Of course, in my state of total devotion, it never struck me that my Master would turn what was immovable truth today into a pale echo of untruth the next time his gorgeous rod parted my lower lips.

On this day, as it so happens, it really was the best sex of my life. And in another sense it was the worst.

I’d come several times before my Master entered me, and I came again when he thrust forward for the first time. And I came more as he moved within me. And of course, I came hard as he came, my pleasure inextricably linked with his.

But then it went horribly wrong. As my Master pulled out of me, he rolled off me and to the side. He was clutching his left arm, and he’d gone a horrible grey colour. But worst of all was the look in his eyes. The way that he was looking at me, filled with fear and uncertainty. It was all I could do to meet his gaze. I couldn’t bear seeing my Master, who until this point had ruled my life with certainty, force and rigour, so filled with dread and doubt. My Master was always in control, always one step ahead, and now he looked like a child alone in the dark.

“Amy!” he gasped, and then collapsed.

He never called me just “Amy”. He knew that my real name was “slave”, and if he needed to distinguish me from another slave, then would he call me “slave amy”. He never called me just “Amy”. That was the name which other people used.

I screamed, of course, and that brought my mother and sister into the room. They were naked, just as Master had commanded us to be whenever we were at home and no strangers would see us. Mother and I tried to resuscitate him, but our attempts at CPR were no use. My sister, Janet, called 911, and we had to hastily dress ourselves before the ambulance arrived. They took him off to the hospital, and mother went with them, but there was nothing they could do.

My Master had died in my arms that night, and nothing could ever replace him.

1. Denial

After she got home from the hospital, my mother, my sister and I all crawled into the big bed in the main bedroom, and we held each other and cried. I think mother dealt with it better than we did, since she’d probably gone through something like this when my father died, but Janet and I were too young to remember his death. And even then, this was much worse, since that was just the death of her husband, and this was the death of her Master.

But it was my mother who held us tight, our heads pressed against her naked bosom. All I remember from those first few hours was the horrible aching loss and emptiness inside me. And talking to my mother and sister afterwards, they said that they had felt the same. I think if any one of us had been alone that night, we may have tried to kill ourselves. But we knew we weren’t alone, and our love for each other helped us survive that night.

I slept terribly, of course, and I am sure that Janet did as well. At least she looked as bad as I felt when I joined her in the bathroom for our shower.

On weekday mornings, Master often liked to spend a great deal of time with us in the shower. It happened often enough that Janet and I had simply taken to showering together most days. If Master was around, we let him know that we were about to shower, but obviously he was not around this morning.

Janet and I put on our short terry cloth robes and cleaned our teeth. We always wore the robes because Master said that he enjoyed watching us take them off before we showered. The robes were too small for us, barely covering our breasts when they wrapped around, and dropping only to the top of the thigh. Whenever we bent over, or stretched, or stood just so with our legs apart, the robes would reveal hints of breast, ass and pussy. We had learnt what Master liked, and made sure that we always put on a good show for him and each other.

I finished brushing before Janet, and as soon as she noticed it she leaned forward over the sink, the robe riding up as she presented her rump to me. I absently fondled her rear as she continued cleaning her teeth, pausing only when I finally stopped teasing her, and ran my fingers up through her slit. That elicited a moan from her through a mouthful of toothbrush and foam.

I’m sure that the remainder of her brushing didn’t get the same attention to detail that the initial part had, with my fingers stroking the entrance to her shaft, but carefully avoiding her clit, coaxing more wetness out. It was only moments before she was rinsing her mouth out, and seconds later we were clasping each other, kissing passionately, mouths tasting strongly of mint.

I broke her embrace, and gave Janet a show as I bent over to turn on the shower. I felt her hands on my behind, but I was done before she could explore very much. I stood, and she reached around from behind me and pulled the tie of my robe open. I let it fall as she caressed my breasts, and ran her fingers through the light hair above my pussy. I let her caress me like that for a few moments, but before she could start exploring my slit in detail, I turned and removed her robe.

Naked, together, we slipped into the shower.

Since the principal purpose of the shower was for us both to get clean, we spent some time lathering each other up with soap, although we took particular care to pay attention to each others breasts, mounds and inner thighs.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked once we had satisfied the requirements of cleanliness, running a hand across her slick wet breast.

“I have to go in to campus today,” she replied, “so how about we just finger each other.”

That sounded like a fine idea to me, so we simply stood in the flow of water and found each others’ most sensitive spots with our hands and fingers. Janet had obviously been close from earlier, because it didn’t take her long to get, off. It took me a while longer to come, but when Janet had her thumb on by clit and two fingers up inside me, all it took was her to brush the fingers of her other hand over my rear entrance.

For a long while afterwards, we simply held one another and kissed, enjoying the closeness of one another, and the warm stream of water on our skin.

Eventually I told Janet to go get ready for class and we broke our embrace. I finished showering myself, dried off and wandered out into the house.

I didn’t have anything in particular to do that day, but I was the person who knew the way around Master’s computer systems. He had me maintain the slave database, so he could always get a hold of any slave whenever he wanted. So at mother’s suggestion I started calling people on the list to let them know that Master was dead.

They were all shocked, of course. But it didn’t sound anywhere near as intense for them. More like learning that a friend had died, rather than the love of your life. I guess since we spent so much more time with Master, our bond was deeper.

Eventually I called Kelly Anderson, who informed me that she was Master’s investment manager as well as his slave. It hadn’t really occurred to me that Master might have had investments that needed managing, but in retrospect it made sense that a great man such as Master would.

Kelly suggested that we talk to Master’s lawyer about how to deal with his estate, but there wasn’t any mention of a lawyer anywhere in Master’s address book. Kelly said she knew an estate lawyer that she’d worked with in the past, and suggested that she set up a meeting. We talked for a while about the details and the paperwork which would need to be completed.

After I got off the phone with her, I searched through Master’s files looking for his will. Nothing. It was possible it was in his safe deposit box at the bank, but I couldn’t just waltz in to the bank and get access to that. But there wasn’t even a reference to the existence of a will in Master’s stuff, and he didn’t have a lawyer, so it was looking like Master was intestate.

That could make life difficult for us, since it could well bring outside scrutiny on the way we lived and on what Master had done. Although I knew that being a slave was the best thing ever, Master had impressed on all of us that society would frown on what he’d done, and so we had to be discreet about things.

I called back Kelly later that day and discussed things with her some more. And she agreed with me. The lawyer needed to become a slave to the Master so that everything was handled with the care that was needed.

I emerged from Master’s study after the phone call. Telltale noises of sex were coming from the living room, which probably meant that the pool cleaner had finished cleaning the pool and was collecting his payment from mother. I had always thought it was ingenious of the Master to lower some of our basic household expenses by having his slaves offer their bodies to people in exchange for services rendered. Since mother was in charge of housework, it often was the case that it was mother’s body that was available, and I knew that she enjoyed doing it because it made both Master and her family and fellow slaves better off.

Master seemed to prefer it if I didn’t help out with those payment duties, except when it was time to give the UPS delivery lady her Christmas bonus. So I snuck back into the Master’s study and watched on the closed circuit monitor as the pool boy repeatedly entered my mother doggy style in the middle of the living room floor. I came shortly before he did, my fingers delicately working my clit as I watched the expression of blissful pleasure and devotion on my mother’s face as she felt him plunge deeply inside her. But it was a small orgasm which left me wanting more.

After the pool cleaner was safely gone, I tracked mother down in the kitchen, drying dishes as sticky semen congealed on her inner thighs.

“It makes me so hot when you do that,” I growled as I embraced her from behind, my hands running over her breasts and stomach. She moaned in response, carefully placing the plate she was drying down on the counter before she lost control. I slipped my hand lower down, and found her slit with my finger, covering it with the semen and juices which were slowly oozing out. While my other hand teased her nipple, I brought my finger to her mouth, and delighted in the sensations as she gently sucked and licked it clean.

Moments later, I had turned her around in my embrace and we were kissing deeply. Her lips were soft and salty and her tongue was wicked as it probed and teased inside my mouth. I started kissing my way down her body, pausing at her neck, between her breasts, and at her navel, while my hands roamed from her shoulders down to her hips, paying particular attention to her breasts. I smelt the pool cleaner’s lingering musk on my mother’s skin, and tasted his come where it was drying between her legs.

Mother lifted herself up onto the kitchen counter, and leaned back, opening her legs to me. My mother’s glorious, oh-so-familiar sex was presented to me, with its soft, gentle folds, its hard nub of clit, and its deep, mysterious centre. Strands of white semen were mixed with its clear lubrication, and I approached greedily with my tongue.

What I really wanted, as I leaned forward and cleaned the come from her thighs and sex with my tongue, was Master’s hard cock filling me, thrusting in and out. I knew that that would have made this the best sex that I had ever experienced. If he had been reaching around with his hand to finger my clit, then that would have been even better. But Master wasn’t here right now, so I made do with listening to my mother’s cries as my tongue and fingers explored her deeply, pulling the salty flavour out of every depth and crinkled fold that she had to offer.

She came with her thighs pressed hard against my head, my tongue buzzing around her nub, and two fingers plunging deep inside her.

As she relaxed, I moved back and looked up at her. She had a peaceful smile on her face.

“That was wonderful, Amy,” she murmured, “you know me so much better than the pool guy.”

I stood up, and she leaned forward, still sitting on the countertop, and wrapped her legs around my waist. We embraced, kissing slowly, as her hands roamed around my back.

I broke free for a moment, and met her gaze, saying with quiet urgency, “I need something deep inside me.”

She kissed me again, lightly, and then lowered herself down from the counter.

“I have just the thing.”

She rummaged around in the kitchen dildo drawer and pulled out a familiar strap-on. It was a perfect replica of Master’s shaft, rendered in supple plastic. My Master had had several made by Judy Owens, a slave who was also a sculptor. Master had chosen me to help keep him hard during the modelling sessions, and when they were finished, Master, Mother, Janet and I had rewarded Judy by letting her be the first to experience them inside her. Master told us afterwards how he had loved the expression in Judy’s eyes as my dildo filled her pussy, while Janet’s and Mother’s dildoes moved in and out of her ass and mouth respectively.

My Mother, as always, knew just what would help me most. And she looked hot as she twisted and cocked her hips just so while she did up the dildo’s strap.

I turn and bent over, bracing myself against the counter. Her hands gripped my hips, and she thrust forward with the dildo, the cold plastic sliding in easily, spreading me wide open. It filled me perfectly, but the cool plastic inside my heated shaft was a shocking contrast, and it made me come. She held against through my orgasm and beyond, her hips pressed hard against my rear, keeping my Master’s fake cock still within me.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” she growled, and I knew without turning around that she had an evil, teasing smile on her face as she said it.

I mewled my acceptance.

Ever so slowly, she began to move in and out of me, slowly teasingly, her hands holding my hips fast and preventing my attempts to pull her out further or push back harder. And then she started to speed up. And I started to come. It was rolling series of small orgasms, nothing earth-shattering in the way that Master gave me orgasms, but oh so good, and it went on for a long time, leaving me gasping for breath and unaware of anything but the movement deep inside me.

So the hand on my breast and the finger seeking for my clit caught me completely by surprise. That did push me over the edge into a deep, hard, intense orgasm. I think I may have screamed, because my throat was sore afterwards, but I don’t recall it.

When I finally came down from the peak, and recovered enough of me senses to wonder whose hands had suddenly appeared, I looked over my shoulder. I half expected to see Master there, but it was Janet, looking down at me with a grin a mile wide.

I smiled back, as mother slipped the dildo out of me. Janet was dressed in her university clothes: low-riding jeans and a top which was cut to emphasise her waist and bust, her navel and lower tummy peeking out from the gap between the two.

I straightened, stretching slightly, as I did so. I shared a look with mother, and together we advanced on Janet. She was distressingly clothed, and decidedly un-fucked, but we could fix that.

The dishes could dry themselves.

Dinner was late that night, but we didn’t mind.

The night was a different matter, however. All of us slept poorly, tossing and turning. We were naked together in the big bed, but we were also alone with our thoughts.

Kelly came by the next morning with the lawyer. I greeted them in the black silk robe that we use to answer the door when unexpected guests arrive. I didn’t recall having ever met Kelly, and I certainly hadn’t had sex with her, but I recognised her immediately from the photo in her file. As always seemed to be the case when I meet a slave I’d only seen in the files, she looked much better in real life than in pixels.

“Hi!” I said.

Kelly and the lawyer were both dressed in business attire, the lawyer more formally than Kelly, although both looked slightly dishevelled. Kelly had probably started the conditioning process already, I guessed.

Kelly indicated to the lawyer, “This is Mary Hennington, the lawyer I told you about.”

Mary didn’t respond, and her eyes looked glazed, like she was staring into the middle distance.

“Come on in,” I said.

Kelly and Mary entered and I closed the door behind them. Kelly and I embraced and kissed, with feeling, but not deeply. We broke apart and looked at each other for a moment, still in a loose embrace, appraising each other. We were beginning the dance that I had played so many times with so many of Master’s slaves.

Just because we are all slaves of the same Master, doesn’t mean that we automatically have sex with one another. If Master orders us to, we do, of course. But although we love and care about our sister slaves, just like regular people sometimes the chemistry isn’t really there. Master can add the chemistry of course, or make it stronger, but without his word to make truth, sisterly love may not bloom.

And so when you meet a sister slave for the first time when Master is absent, you both start appraising, judging and testing. Do I want her? Does she want me? How far will we go? And so you start flirting, pushing, touching, challenging, testing the boundaries, seeing just what will happen. And because she is a fellow slave, there is no fear of rejection, no consequence in going too far. If the desire isn’t there on both your parts, it becomes pretty clear fairly quickly.

“You’ve started her conditioning?” I asked, nodding my head in Mary’s direction.

“Yes, I used a portable on her, standard protocol. It should hold for another couple of hours.”

“Good,” I said, and stepped back out of her embrace.

I looked Kelly in the eye, and opened my robe, revealing myself to her. And then a graceful shrug and the robe slipped off my shoulders, falling to the ground at my feet. I continued to look her in the eye, almost challenging her with its intensity. I knew the message I was conveying to her: “I am a slave. I am sexual. I am desirable to Master. You will find me desirable as well, slave.”

Kelly responded in kind, although she was hampered by her clothes. A bit of fumbling for the zip of her black, knee-length skirt, and then it was around her feet. She looked me in the eye in turn, thrusting her hips forward sightly. Her pussy with its black downy hair was naked, framed by her garters.

Although she was clearly not as practised at the game as I, I liked what I saw, and I smiled.

“Kelly, why are you taking your clothes off?” Mary said, a slight frown of concern furrowing her brow.

Kelly glanced at her and said “This is the Master’s house, Mary, and this woman is Amy. Follow the protocol.”

“Oh!” said Mary, and her face immediately lost it’s emotion. Mechanically, she started removing her clothes as well.

I used the moment of Kelly’s distraction, and started unbuttoning her blouse. She turned back to look at me, and our gazes locked. There was definite chemistry between us, and moments later our lips were pressed hard against each other while I blindly fumbled the last few buttons undone. And after that I was delighted to discover that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her blouse, and I took advantage of the situation.

We came up gasping for air, but before we could re-engage, I put my hand up in front of her mouth, and said “We should deal with Mary first,” nodding at the now naked woman.

Kelly nodded, and I led the two of them to the basement stairs. They went down ahead of me and as they did I appreciated the view. Mary was the taller of the two, probably pushing six feet, with long, graceful legs leading to the sweep of her back, and her shoulder-length blonde hair. Even when partially conditioned, she walked with a self-confident stride, as if knowing how to use her body to its maximum effect was reflexive to her.

Kelly was shorter, although still taller than me, and more curvaceous, her rear highlighted by the garter belt and stockings, swaying as she descended the stairs. Muscles shifted under her shoulders as she grasped the rail, and her long straight hair shifted over her back. I made a not to myself to spend some time exploring that back while we waited.

The protocols were clearly well implanted in Mary, since she went straight over to one of the conditioning machines which stood in a row the basement, and sat herself down in it. I took over at that point, strapping her down, and sliding the stimulators over her eyes, ears, breasts, and up inside her. The blonde hair over her pussy was neatly trimmed and her breasts were firm and felt quite nice to touch. She smiled gently as she lay there, and I kissed her mouth before I turned on the machine.

Conditioning is intense. Every single one of us went through it, and every single one of us remembers it for the life changing experience that it was. Mary’s graceful back arched at the first shock of stimulation, but slowly she relaxed as the treatment slowly started to mould her mind into that of a slave.

I felt Kelly move up behind me, pressing herself against me while her hands found my belly.

“God, I remember how good that felt when your sister strapped me into that thing,” she said, nuzzling against my neck. “I’ve never seen anyone else conditioned, though. It looks hot.”

And indeed it did, seeing Mary writhing in pleasure in her restraints as Master’s machinery bored its way into her mind, stamping his protocols of slavery across her mind, making her a fuckthrall, slutbody, cunttoy for the Master.

Of course, she’d never get to experience what that really meant.

But that thought was cut short by Kelly’s fingers finding my slit, and I leaned back into her embrace and just rested against her and watched Mary’s ecstasy as she had her way with my body. A lassitude came over me, and I floated, sensing her gentle touch on my clit and lower lips, her kisses slowing over my neck and back, and then lower. All too swiftly I came, shuddering in her arms.

But with that, I found I had more energy. We retreated to the bed that Master often used when a new slave was freshly conditioned, and we explored each other. It was a sweet duet that we made, tasting each other’s centres as we lay on the mattress, barely able to concentrate on licking the delicate folds of the other for the gentle fire that was kindled by the other’s tongue. Then exploring her body as she sat in the bed, kissing and tracing the lines of her back, the curves of her breasts, the firm yet yielding nipples. Then lower, her taut stomach, teasing her navel, her legs, smooth and firm, and her inner thighs softer. Then leaning her back, and tasting her once more, her dew renewed by my caresses and the touch of my lips and tongue.

She cried out as she came, and then we lay together on the bed, spent, slowly kissing, tasting the residue of ourselves on each other, until we drifted off into sleep in each others arms.

I woke to low voices and movement on the bed. I opened my eyes to see Janet, a wide grin on her face, dragging Kelly up. Kelly looked at me, almost apologetically as Janet took her away, but I simply smiled indulgently back, acknowledging a prior bond and my younger sister’s enthusiasm. The two disappeared up the stairs, and I lay back on the broad bed, staring at my body in the mirror on the ceiling, just thinking for a while.

It just didn’t seem real. It felt like Master was just off on a trip somewhere, and any moment he’d walk through the front door, or down the steps into the basement, or he’d call and I’d hear his voice summoning me, ordering me to do his bidding with the voice that could change my world. Somewhere, intellectually, I knew that wouldn’t happen, but for now it just seemed like business as usual. Another day, another slave recruited, another sister-slave fucked, another shower with my sister, another tryst with my mother, the same as any day really.

Except that Master hadn’t had me.

But then sometimes it was a week or more that I went without his touch, when he was busy, or sometimes when he was infatuated with a new slave. So it really didn’t feel like he was gone, just absent for a while.

My thoughts were broken by the sound of the conditioner powering down, the gentle thrum fading to silence. I rolled over on my side and looked at Mary, watching her as she undid the straps that held her down and removed the stimulators. If she felt anything like I had after I’d been conditioned by Master, she’d be feeling weak as a baby, but still she moved with unconscious grace and ease. She saw me watching her, and smiled, keeping eye contact as she pulled the stimulator from her pussy, her legs spread wide so I could clearly see the shaft sliding out of her. Delicately, she cleaned it off with a wet wipe, and if I’d been a man I probably would have been in lust just from the way she handled it.

As it was, despite the drying stickiness on my face and between my thighs, and the slight soreness, I could feel new heat in my centre. I shifted, lifting my leg to show myself to her. Finally free of the machine, she walked across the room to the bed, hips gently swaying, never breaking eye contact.

I expected her to fall into bed with me, to be passionately kissing her, to make torrid love to her, to initiate her into the sorority of sister slaves. That didn’t happen, at least not at first.

I mean, yes, within moments she was hungrily fucking my cunt with her tongue and fingers, racing me to an intense orgasm. But what was unexpected was what she did before that. A simple action, but it left me so stunned that I made no move to help her as she sucked on me, or reciprocate with her.

She knelt down in front of the bed, about level with my hips, so I was looking down at her, and bowed her head, breaking the gaze that had locked us together. And then she said just one word.

“Mistress.”