The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Shelley glanced up from her book as her best friend and roommate Mary walked inside, her face slightly flushed. “Hi,” she said, waving to Shelley, as she literally danced her way into the living room, nearly tripping over the sleeping Great Dane lying at Shelley’s feet. Shaking her head, Shelley suppressed the urge to laugh.

“I take it your date went well,” she quipped.

“Er, yeah, you could say that, yes,” Mary replied with a smile, her eyes glinting with a far-off look. “Eddie is simply... oh, wow... words can’t really do him justice,” she finished, sighing in pleasure.

Shelley rolled her eyes upwards, trying not to gag from the sweetness. “I’ll never understand what you see in that guy, Mary,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, he’s so... so... weird. And he’s into all this kinky sex crap... the stuff he makes you do for him. He even calls you his slave for God’s sakes!”

Mary just grinned. “You make it sound like a bad thing.” She disappeared in her bedroom for a moment, calling out from down the hallway. “Anyway, it’s not like I don’t enjoy it. I discovered a while back that I have a submissive part of my personality... that I am a slave at heart. I tried fighting it, trying to put a wall around myself, but I was only hiding from the truth. Eddie was the first guy I ever met that refused to accept the lie. He saw inside me, saw the submissive little girl inside crying out for her Master, and forced me to acknowledge her.”

She returned a few moments later, clad in soft pink housecoat and fuzzy pink slippers. “I’m telling you, Shelley,” Mary continued, “you’re just as much a submissive at heart as I am, probably moreso. You just refuse to see it.”

“And I’ll probably go to my grave refusing to see it,” Shelley replied, peering back at her book. “I don’t care how handsome, attractive, or good in bed a guy is, I’m not about to lower myself to becoming his slave, letting him walk all over me. Do what you want, Mary, just don’t expect me to follow suit.”

The dark haired beauty merely shrugged, and entered the kitchen, slipping something to the microwave. “I take it things didn’t go so well on your date with Jack, then?” she asked after a moment. Shelley bristled slightly, dropping the book once more.

“What makes you say that?”

Mary reappeared moments later with a small bowl of reheated leftovers. “Well, for one thing, you’re in a snappy mood,” she said with a grin. Shelley resisted the urge to thump her. “For another, you’re here, settled in, reading The Vampire Armonde and it looks like you’re more than a third of the way through, which means you’ve been reading for a while.”

Shelley let out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine. The date didn’t go very well. Are you happy now?”

“No, tell me what happened.”

“Well,” Shelley began, “it started nice enough. He was sweet, very polite, even opened the door for me and everything. He seemed like a perfect gentleman. He even brought my chocolate candy.” She gestured to the half-empty box lying on the couch. “We went out to dinner at a very nice restaurant, in the good side of town. Afterwards, we went to the club. That’s when things got out of hand.”

Mary’s eyes narrowed. “What did he do, try to feel you up? He didn’t mess with you, did he?”

“He tried to KISS me!” Shelley exclaimed, full of indignation. “The creep looked me deep in my eyes, told me he loved me, and tried to kiss me!” Mary blinked, uncomprehending. “On the lips, Mary,” Shelley said, crossing her arms. “He told me he loved me and tried to French kiss me.”

Mary sighed. “So, what you’re telling me is, you became upset because he told you he loved you and tried to kiss you? Shelley, you’ve kissed other dates before. Heck, we even kiss now and again. What was so bad about this kiss that you decided to end what seemed to be a perfect date up until then?” An idea came into her head then. “Oh... I think I get it. It wasn’t the kiss that freaked you out, so much as him saying that he loved you. Am I right?”

Shelley glanced away, anxiously. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” she said, turning red. “It just didn’t feel right, you know. It made me uncomfortable, that’s all. I told him to take me home, and then he lost it! We started yelling at each other, and I finally told him to drop dead. He dropped me off instead, and drove away. Good riddance, if you ask me.”

Mary sighed. “Well, I’m sorry things didn’t work out... but maybe tomorrow night will be better.”

Shelley raised an eyebrow. “Tomorrow night? Mary, what do you mean ‘tomorrow night’?”

This time Mary looked away, avoiding her eyes. “Well, uhm, I meant to tell you earlier, when I first came in. You see, uhm, Eddie’s best friend is in town for the week, planning to move here permanently, and, well, Eddie thought it might be nice if someone showed him out on the town... you know, kind of introducing him to the town.”

“You set me up on a blind date?” Shelley asked, incredulously. “No. No. Absolutely not. I refuse!”

“Come on, please,” Mary whined, dropping to her knees. She planted kisses along Shelley’s bare toes, making her burst into giggles. “Please, Shelley, I promise I won’t ask you for another favor as long as I live. It would mean so much to Eddie... and it would mean so much to me. Please? Please? Pretty please?”

“EEEK! Hehehehehheee... Okay, okay!” Shelley sputtered, giggling, pulling her feet up under her bottom on the couch. “Anything, just stop begging me! Hehehee...”

It was late, nearly two A.M., when Shelley slipped out of her bedroom, half-asleep, moving to the kitchen for a drink of water. She gulped down the refreshing liquid and returned to the hallway, only then hearing a strange noise. Curious, she moved to Mary’s bedroom door and leaned against it, placing an ear to the wood. A soft deep groaning sounded. Thinking Mary deep in the grips of a nightmare, Shelley slid the door open a crack, and peered inside.

Mary was not sleeping.

Standing transfixed at the door, Shelley gazed upon the beautiful image of her best friend, lying atop her bed, naked except for a glint of gold around her neck, moaning loudly, deep within the throes of passion. The cordless phone was cradled between her shoulder and ear, and both her hands were deeply entrenched between her smooth milky white thighs, which glistened slightly in the waning moonlight peeking through the window.

“Yes,” she cried softly, her voice muffled somewhat by the pillow, but loud enough for Shelley to make out the words. “Yes, Master, oh yes, oh yes, yes Master, yes! YES! YES! YEEEEESSSS!!”

She’s having phone sex, Shelley realized. She’s talking to Eddie on the other end, getting off on his words. Shelley continued to watch, entranced, as the erotic spectacle taking place, unable to look away. Mary looked radiant, her soft curvaceous body dimly lit by moonlight, her body covered in a light sheen of sweat, her thighs spread wide and open as her body writhed sensually against her long slender fingers. Shelley found her hand moving unbidden down to her own cleanly-shaven sex, attesting to the effect the sight was having on her. With an effort, she pulled it away, and turned, feeling self-conscious, away from the door.

Slipping back into her own bedroom, Shelley got into bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep though, not yet. Her mind focused on the scene she’d just witness, the images that flashed like strobe lights in her brain. The idea that Eddie, Mary’s so-called ‘Master’, had called her up in the middle of the night, talking her into performing for his pleasure, making her writhe and moan in a sexual frenzy by his words alone... the idea galled her. A Master, using his slave for his pleasure, without even being there... it seemed despicable. And yet, she couldn’t deny the sheer eroticism she had glimpsed, the passionate abandon Mary had experienced, merely from her Master’s words to her.

I find it hard getting that kind of pleasure when I’m with someone in person, Shelley thought grimly. He’s just talking to her, and making her cum harder than anything I’ve ever seen.

She went round and round in her head, thinking on it, until she finally made the passage into slumber. Shelley swooned, dreaming soft, fuzzy, indistinct thoughts of Masters and slave, of herself, clothed in brightly colored silks, kneeling before a tall, dark, handsome man with a kind face but a stern expression. She moaned softly in her sleep, her hands moving again to her sex, as she drifted along in a most pleasant stream of consciousness.

“Can I borrow your earrings, too?”

Exasperated, Mary threw up her hands. “You look fine, Shelley. Geez! Quit stalling. Eddie’s friend will be here any minute now.”

“But I need jewelry,” Shelley shot back, frowning slightly at the sight of herself in the mirror. Her face was beautifully done up, her lashes properly thickened, her lids gently colored, her cheeks delicately rouged. Her beautiful auburn hair, streaked with scarlet highlights, was styled, coiffed gently on the left side, the right straight, running down short length of her head, to her shoulders. Her dress was a dark navy blue, which hugged her sweet supple curves, extenuating every line. She wore stockings and pumps of an equally dark blue, and her wrists were clad in golden bracelets, which tinkled slightly when she moved.

“Okay, fine,” Mary said dismissively, walking out of the room. “Take anything you want from my jewelry box. Whatever. Just as long as you hurry!” A knock sounded throughout the house. “You see? That’s him now. Hurry up! I’ll go get the door.”

Shelley sighed. She wondered idly why she was making such a big deal anyway. Every date, she spent so much time and effort getting prepared, primping in front of the mirror, trying to look her very best, only to have the date end in disaster. To be truthful to herself, she had to admit there had been nothing wrong with any of her dates, that it was always SHE that ruined things. But she couldn’t help it; none of the men she dated felt right... none of them clicked with her. In the end, she caused a scene, started an argument, so she could break up with her date on an equal footing.

And yet, here I am doing the same thing again, getting all dressed up and decked out for what will probably be another disaster.

Slipping on the earrings, Shelley admired her reflection again. She looked almost perfect. Almost. Something was still missing. Running a hand along her neckline, she knew what it was. “A necklace. I need a necklace. Hey, Mary?” she yelled, intending to ask her friend if she could borrow another piece.

“Shelley, hurry up!” Mary yelled back loudly from the other room. “What’s taking so long?”

Picking through the jewelry box, Shelley discarded necklace after necklace, looking for something that would really stand out. She paused as she lifted up the thick, golden, chain linked choker. At the center, a small golden, jewel encrusted medallion rested, with Mary’s name engraved on one side, and a word, in a strange unknown language, on the other. It looked expensive, and very pretty; Mary wore it often when she went on dates with Eddie, whether formal or casual. Of all the gifts Eddie had given her, Mary prized the gold chain necklace the most. Hesitating, she lowered it back down to the jewelry box.

Nah. Mary would have a fit if I wore that on my date. Better pick something else. She admired it briefly, the soft subtle glow, the way the link glinted off the gold and jewels, dazzling her eyes. Still... she did say I could borrow whatever I wanted for the night, she mused. And, besides, I’m only doing this as a personal favor for her, anyway. Making up her mind, she slipped the necklace around her neck, closed the clasp, and adjusted it, so that it hung snugly between the valley of her breasts.

“There. Perfect.” Grabbing her jacket, Shelley hurried out into the living room. There, she saw Mary talking at length with a tall dark-skinned man, with short cut black hair. His face was hidden from view by Mary, but Shelley could see him well enough to see his gray dinner jacket and slacks were well made and expensive. Mary had mentioned very little about the man, but he apparently did well for himself. Well, if nothing else, I should have a nice night on the town.

“Ah, there you are, finally!” Mary exclaimed, seeing Shelley finally approach. “About time. Jonothan, this is my roommate, Shelley. Shelley, this is the man I told you about, Jonothan Webster.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Shelley,” he said coolly, reaching out to take her hand, kissing it gently. Shelley blushed, smiling in surprise. His face, now that she had a clear view, was strikingly handsome. He wore a catlike expression, and his smile seemed almost a smirk, twisted on one end, as if he were more than simply amused, as if he knew something she didn’t. And his eyes! Dark brown pools, yet catlike as well, slightly hooded, like a predator’s. The touch of his flesh on her hand sent strange shivers of pleasure running through her, and to her surprise, she found herself becoming aroused.

Mary, meanwhile, was frowning. “Shelley, what’s that you’re wearing around your neck? Is that... Shelley! Are you wearing my—”

“Come, my dear,” Jonothan said, interrupting, leading Shelley gently by her hand to the front door. “We’re running late as it is. If we’re not there at the restaurant by seven o’ clock, they’ll cancel our reservations.”

Mary stood by, helplessly, watching them leave. She held out a hand, considering calling out to her friend, but they were gone before she could make the effort. “Oh, Shelley,” she said softly, shaking her head. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” Turning, she went back into the house and closed the door.

Shelley felt strangely giddy as she sat next to Jonothan in the car. She rarely went on blind dates, preferring to get to know the person she was dating in depth before taking such a step. She knew next to nothing about the man seated next to her, and yet she felt a strange and powerful attraction to him, to the point where just being next to him made her feel good. Her face was flushed with more than powder; her breathing was regular and strong, but quicker than normal, just like her pulse. Her insides were tingling. It was all so very strange.

“Are you alright, Shelley?” Jonothan asked, glancing sidelong at her as he rounded a corner. “You’ve been rather quiet since leaving the house. Is everything going okay?”

“No... I mean, yes, yes, I’m fine,” she started, blushing a deeper shade of red at being caught woolgathering. “I’m just fine, really. Sooo... uhm, tell me a little about yourself, Jonothan. What do you do?”

Jonothan grinned. “Right to the heart of the matter. Good, I like that.” He sighed softly. “Well, for the most part, I work for Hewlett-Packard. I’m a computer programmer. It’s kind of boring, actually, but for a day job, it pays the bills.”

Shelley nodded, intrigued. “I see. So, what’s your night job, then?”

He glanced sidelong at her again. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that until after the date,” he said, flashing a smirk at her. “Wouldn’t want to jinx things at this early stage.”

Shelley laughed. “Oh, come on, tell me. It can’t be that bad. What are you, a male prostitute or something? Do you run a brothel, or own a harem of slaves, or something like that?”

Jonothan chuckled dryly. “Actually, you’re pretty damn close,” he said. “I’m a writer. I specialize in erotic literature, romance novels, though I sometimes dabble a bit in science fiction and fantasy.”

“Really?” Shelley glanced at him again, looking on him in a different light. “Erotic stories, hmmm? Well, I shop at Barnes and Noble a lot, and I pick through the romance section fairly often. Have you ever written anything I might have read?”

“Hmm, I rather doubt it,” he said musingly, eyes back on the road. “I believe your friend Mary has several of my books, though. I write under the pen name of Jerod Ashke.”

Shelley was stunned speechless. Jerod Ashke, the romance writer, was taking her on a date! She didn’t know whether to be delighted or scared silly. Ashke’s works ran to the darker side of romance, similar to the Gor books by John Norman, spinning tales of lust, and dominance, of Masters taking innocent young women, and making them into sex slaves. Mary had raved on and on about the books, and Shelley had read one or two, to satisfy her curiosity. His writing was graphically vivid, arousing yet disturbing to her independent female sensibilities.

“Well,” she said after a long moment of silence. “I hope you’re not like the characters in your books. Ravishing helpless young women, melting their wills with passion... all very well and good on paper, but real life is something else entirely. I hope you’re not planning on turning me into your slave.”

Jonothan slid the car into the parking space, and cut off the engine, before responding. “As a matter of fact,” he said smoothly, moving around to open her door for her, “the thought had crossed my mind. Shall we go?”

She blinked, then accepted his hand again. The fierce heat in her body increased with the touch, and a small shudder of pleasure ran through her, though rather from his words or his touch, she didn’t know. She had planned a stinging retort to his self-assured response, but she was already inside the restaurant, sitting at their table, when he released her hand again, allowing her to think. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said to her as the waiter walked away from the table, “but I took the liberty of ordering for you. You seemed to be at a bit of a loss for words.”

Ordered for her? Of all the nerve! “Why yes, thank you,” she heard herself say, “that was sweet of you. I’m sure it will be just fine.”

Jonothan’s self-assured smirk returned. “Well, Shelley, I’ve told you a little about myself. Now its your turn. Tell me about yourself, where you work, what you do, your hobbies... tell me everything about you.”

Another shudder ran through her, making her thighs clench slightly in pleasure. He hadn’t asked her about herself, he’d told her to tell him everything, and before she knew what she was doing, she was telling him all about her childhood, about growing up, about sharing a house with her best friend Mary, her entire life story up to the present. When she finally rested to catch her breath, Jonothan nodded.

“Thank you, that will do,” he said smiling, gesturing to her food. “Dig in, my dear. Your food is getting cold. Aren’t you hungry?”

Cheeks burning crimson, Shelley dug in with gusto, eating the food that had been sitting untouched in front of her for the past ten minutes while she talked and talked without pause. She couldn’t seem to help herself. Jonothan had wanted to know all about her, and once she’d started talking, seeing his interest in her, she hadn’t been able to stop, not wanting the moment to end. All the while, she had felt nearly aflame, burning from within with a deep pulsing pleasure, a soft erotic feeling that ran up and down her body.

What the hell is wrong with me? she wondered, wiping her mouth, glancing up at Jonothan, then looking away shyly. I’m acting like a love-struck little school girl. This is nuts. I barely know this guy, and he’s a walking contradiction. He writes sexist kink literature, yet he acts like a perfect gentleman. He’s so self-assured and arrogant when he speaks, never asking, always TELLING, or COMMANDING me to do something... yet he is so courteous, kissing my hand, opening doors for me, ordering food for me. Normally, I’d have called an end to this already... but around him, I just feel so... so... I don’t know. I don’t like it... but it feels kinda nice.

He paid the check, which alternatively pleased and irritated her, then drove them both to the movie theater. He purchased two tickets for “Girl Among the Thorns,” a romantic drama Mary had wanted to go see with her sometime next week. The storyline was somewhat trite: a girl of a noble house in the Ireland of ancient times is kidnapped, taken by marauding Vikings as a slave, back to their lands across the sea, only to find love from a strong, powerful, but kind man later on. Shelley found the subject matter strangely ironic, considering her best friend’s fascination with the subject, her date’s unique view of things, and her own personal feelings.

“Just can’t seem to escape the whole Master/slave theme, can we?” Jonothan whispered to her softly, making her start. He chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised, your discomfort was etched into your face. I think Mary is right, though; the reason you stress about it so much is that you’re a slave girl yourself, deep down, and fighting it.”

Shelley glared at him in outrage. “How DARE you say that?” she hissed, trying not to draw anymore undue attention to herself. “Who or what I am inside is none of your damn business, not Mary’s, not anyone’s! What is it with everyone, anyway? Am I the only one that doesn’t find this BSDM shit completely crazy?”

“Lower your voice, Shelley, and watch the picture,” Jonothan said softly, giving her a disapproving glance. She opened her mouth to comment again, when his look of disapproval turned into a full-blown scowl. “I said, quiet down and watch the movie,“ he all but snarled at her.

Chastened, a little scared, she sank back into her chair, and faced front, her stomach fluttering slightly. A soft moan escaped her lips, and her thighs slickened. More than anything, she wanted to slip out of the seat and kneel at his feet, and kiss them, as she had seen Mary do for Eddie. The image flashing in her mind disgusted her, but made the fire between her thighs burn all the brighter.

“What... the hell... is happening to me?” she whispered softly.

“You’re learning what it is to be a slave,” Jonothan replied, sliding a hand gently into her lap, running strong thick fingers against her crotch. Shelley gasped, alarmed at his boldness, but unable to respond in any way other than to arch herself into his touch. “This movie is quite a good instructional tool,” he said, rubbing and circling her swollen little nub as it slipped up from its sheath. “I didn’t write the script, but I was asked to do a little consulting work. I’m really pleased with the end result.”

Stars danced before Shelley’s eyes. She felt like she was hypnotized, like everything was in a dream. The man sitting next to her was more deeply involved with the movie than he was with her, paying her very little attention at all, yet she found herself deeply drawn to him, to every slight movement of his body. Her eyes tracked the scenes on the movie screen, as he had commanded her to, but she sensed, and felt, every twitch and motion he made. He was like a giant magnet, and she was an iron filing, being pulled irresistibly this way and that by his mere presence.

“How... how are you doing this to me?” she managed to ask. He looked away from the screen then, and faced her, looking deep into her eyes. Wordlessly, he reached between her breasts with his free hand, and pulled up the necklace.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked. “This is not just expensive costume jewelry. This is a slave chain. This kind of chain was used by ancient conquerors to denote their slaves, to show others that this girl, or that girl, belonged to them. Often times, the girls were allowed little else to wear, made to run around naked save for these chains that identified them as slaves. Naturally, the girls resented this very much, at first. To be treated as property, to have no say so, no will, no decision in anything. It was like a contest of wills, but they were already at a disadvantage.

“After a time, they began to accept their lot, then to enjoy it, and later still, to languish in it. They began to relish their forced submission, the soft feminine sides they had discovered within themselves. They had tapped into the deepest and darkest parts of their very natures, the part of their psyches they’d repressed long ago, striving to be free-thinking and independent. As John Norman so perfectly stated, in each woman, there is both a free-thinking woman, and a slave girl, both at war with one another. The slave wants to be dominated, controlled, forced to submit, to be soft and yielding, while the free-thinker tries to maintain control, autonomitry, and independence.” He tapped the edge of the jewel encrusted pendant. “This little trinket is a key, the key to your very soul. It is a tool, a symbol that reminds you of your status, of your true nature. The moment you put it on, you brought about a change in yourself, that will enable you to see through the walls you’ve built up around yourself.”

The necklace! Of course! Fuck! Shelley reached up, quickly, jerking the necklace free of Jonothan’s grasp, pulling hard, breaking the clasp as she removed it from her neck. Jonothan merely blinked, raising an eyebrow, as Shelley turned to glare at him, holding the chain stiffly in her clenched fist.

“You’re friend Mary won’t appreciate the way you’ve handled her jewelry, I think,” he mused softly.

“I’m leaving,” she said firmly, gathering up her purse. “The spell is broken now, and I’m getting as far away from you as I can! I don’t want to see you, or your best pal Eddie, anywhere near my house again!” Getting to her feet, she pushed and shoved her way through the crowds, to the exit.

Jonothan watched her, still amused, then turned back to the movie. He swallowed a handful of popcorn, ignoring the stares of the other movie-goers, who had witness the rather loud exchange. He wasn’t the slightest bit worried or concerned. Leaning back in his chair, he watched the screen as the slave girl, thinking herself free, ran from her new Master, seeking escape in the deep woods.

“Run fast, run far, little slave,” he whispered softly. “You’ll soon realize the chains that bind you to your Master lie deep inside you, an everlasting part of you. You cannot run from your destiny, anymore than you can run away from yourself.”

Shelley sighed deeply, slipping into her bed. Mary had been furious about the loss of her necklace, tossed into a storm drain on the street as Shelley had left the theater. They’d argued for nearly an hour, about the necklace, about Jonothan and Eddie, about the whole fascination with Dominance and submission. Mary refused to believe Shelley’s tale about the gold chain being responsible for her behavior, citing up her many past failed dates and the reasoning Shelley had provided for each one. Angry, frustrated, Shelley had finally stormed out of the room, slamming her bedroom door behind her. Moments later, she heard the front door open and slam, accompanies soon after by the sound of Mary’s car taking off.

No doubt going over to Eddie’s house, to be consoled, she though glumly. Damn. I didn’t mean to blow up at her like that, it’s just... She is my best friend! She was supposed to side with me no matter what. She lay back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. I guess I can’t really blame her, though, she thought after a moment. I have had my share of bad breakups... and I guess maybe I tend to blow things way out of proportion. But this time it wasn’t my fault! That necklace... it was doing something to me, making me feel strange inside... and Eddie gave it to Mary when they first started seeing each other. I’m glad I got rid of it before it was too late. I only hope the effect wears off on Mary now that it’s gone.

She knew eventually Mary would forgive her; they’d sit down and talk calmly as friends, and Shelley would be able to convince her, in time, that Eddie was the wrong man for her. She closed her eyes and slept, trying to put the whole matter behind her, at least for a while. She dreamed, and the dream was soft, and sensual, with a slight golden tint to it.

She was back in the theater, sitting next to Jonothan, except this time she was completely naked. The theater was utterly deserted, except for the two of them, and yet everything seemed completely natural and normal to her. On the screen, the blonde haired slave girl shrank back in terror as the Master, a huge, brawny, well-muscled man in a loincloth, strode slowly towards, her, holding up a very familiar golden necklace. The girl, wide-eyed, stared at the glittering chain, unable to look away, as the man moved closer and closer. Shelley turned towards Jonothan, but he raised a finger to his lips, demanding silence, and commanding her to watch the picture. Shelley faced forward, only to find herself no longer in the theater, but inside the movie, staring up at the glittering sparkling chain of gold. Jonothan, naked aside from his loincloth, smiled wickedly, dangling the chain before her wide, glassy eyes.

“You cannot fight it, slave,” his voice seemed to echo inside her mind as well as her ears. “You cannot resist. You are my slave, my obedient little slut. You long to be dominated by me, to grovel at my feet, to beg to be allowed to serve me. That is my will, and now it is your will as well.” The chain spun and twisted in his grasp, spinning golden rays of light into her dazzled eyes.

Shelley, her will fading, shook her head in denial, her eyes glued to the dancing chain, still unable to look away. “N-no,” she whispered in a low desperate voice. “I... I won’t give in to you.. I can’t. Please!”

Jonothan laughed, stepping closer. The chain was inches from her face now, sweeping back and forth in front of her eyes, which continued to track the swinging golden pendant. “You have no choice in the matter, slave,” he murmured softly, yet commandingly, his gently spoken words booming inside her mind. “You are already mine. A part of you has always been mine, girl, you just never realized it. All that remains now is for you to wear my symbol, to don the slave chain I have prepared for you.” The chain stopped dangling and grew still. Shelley, nearly void of resistance now, gazed upon the name engraved in the golden charm.

Shelley

“Nooooooo...” she wailed softly, feeling herself juice spontaneously in humiliation and arousal, knowing herself captured. Her body would not respond to her now, would not turn and run away. She stood frozen, swaying slightly in place, as she felt his hand caressing her now, touching her with impunity, as if she were some nameless property, a belonging to be used and discarded at his leisure. Righteous indignation failed, however, under the onslaught of increasing passion, as Jonothan’s knowledgeable hands stroked her, rubbing a patch of skin here, teasing a stretch of flesh there, avoiding her erogenous zones completely, yet sending her into an undeniable frenzy of pleasure.

“You see, slave?” he taunted her, gliding the edge of the necklace along her slender bare neck. “You belong to me. Your body responds to my touch despite your willful resistance.” A half-smile grew on his face. “You can resist at all only because I allow it, because I want you to come to this realization by yourself, of your own free will... what is left of it, anyway. I want you to come to me, to beg me to have you, to offer yourself to me. Only then, dear sweet Shelley, will I allow you to wear my slave chain. Only then will I accept you fully, and give you the complete and total Mastery that you desire.”

She felt him withdraw, pull away, as if to leave her, so close, so near to the pinnacle of bliss, yet unfulfilled. A whimper escaped her lips. The invading warmth she had felt all about her was dying away, being replaced now with an insidious coldness. She cried out, reaching out a hand to him, begging wordlessly, not to go, to stay and complete his work, to take her if he meant, or free her... but not to leave her like this.

“NO! DON’T GO!” Shelley screamed, sitting up in her bed, gasping. It took a moment for her to return to reality, to place the strange alien surroundings she found herself in as her bedroom. Panting, covered in sweat, her body still burning with unfulfilled desire, she kicked back the covers. Morning light shone through the windows; she’d apparently spent the entire night in the grip of that strange erotic dream... which even now was fading from memory. A pang of loss, of emptiness, welled up inside her, and she resisted he urge to sob.

After a quick shower, she felt somewhat restored, and more like her normal self. Slipping on a powder blue bathrobe, she entered the kitchen, finding Mary sitting down at the table, her breakfast of coffee, juice, eggs, bacon, and toast, sitting untouched in front of her. She wore a look of profound sadness on her lovely face, and she bit her lips as she glanced up at Shelley. “Uhm, uh, hi,” she said softly, looking down at her food again. “Did you, um, sleep well?”

Shelley sighed deeply, walking around, wrapping her arms around her roommate. “No, I didn’t.” she said, sniffing. “I’m sorry, Mary. I acted like a real bitch last night. I’m sorry about your necklace, too. And I never should have stormed out that way. Please? Please say you forgive me? Please?” She looked up at Mary, tears in her eyes. Right now, more than anything, she needed acceptance, and love, from her best friend.

For Mary, it was as if a dam broke inside her. A hugs smile split her face even as the tears began to flow. “Oh, Shelley,” she exclaimed, hugging her dearest friend in a deep hard bear hug. “I’m sorry too! I didn’t mean to say all that stuff! Really! I was just upset about the necklace, that’s all. I’m sorry, baby!”

They hugged and kissed, gently, all about the face, and then on the lips. Shelley, still feeling the effects of her dream, moaned softly at the intimate touch, making Mary’s smile grow even more. They kissed again, just as gently, but now with more feeling, tentative at first, then increasingly passionate. Shelley’s hand went to Mary’s left breast, squeezing it gently, making the taller girl gasp, arching slightly at the touch.

For a moment, Shelley paused, confused. What was she doing? What were THEY doing? Mary had been her best friend growing up, had lived together for more than five years after they left high school, and in all that time they had never expressed any latent sexual tendencies for one another. Their actions, spontaneous and wonderful, scared her. Was this all a part of decline in debauchery caused by the necklace? Then Mary’s hand slid inside Shelley’s blue bathrobe, finding the soft, shallow cleft between her thighs, and all such thoughts and concerns vanished from her mind.

“Mmmmm... yeesssss...” she moaned, hips moving slightly, instinctively, trying to increase her pleasure. Her eyes, half-lidded already, closed completely, as she gave in to the gentle ministrations of her beautiful sexy roommate. She felt herself being led slowly out of the kitchen, thoughts of food and drink completely forgotten, to Mary’s bedroom, and down onto the large four poster bed. She was pushed gently onto her back, and Mary, now naked, her own robe discarded somewhere along the trip to the bedroom, slid her sweet supple body along Shelley’s moving atop her.

“Do you like this?” she whispered softly into Shelley’s ear, her words sounding strange and hollow, as the voice in her dreams had sounded. Shelley nodded wordlessly, writhing and twisting under the boundless waves of pleasure running through her. A soft clink of metal sounded, and something cold pressed itself against Shelley’s chest. Her eyes opened to see Mary, sitting astride her, wearing a duplicate of the slave chain she’d tossed into the storm drain several hours earlier. Smiling, her roommate lowered soft lips to hers, kissing away any questions Shelley may have had, grinding her soft bare pussy against Shelley’s own neatly-trimmed bush, until the panting girl was incapable of rational thought.

Without unsealing her lips, Mary began a vigorous assault on her auburn-haired roommate, stroking her body in just the right spots, with just the right amount of gentle force, to work Shelley into a lather. Feeling her approaching her zenith, she finally released her lips, breaking the kiss, staring down into Shelley’s dazed, befogged eyes. “My Master, Eddie, was a little upset with your behavior, Shelley, love,” she whispered, sliding a hand back down into the wet trickling place between her thighs. Shelley responded by arching her back, pressing herself as much as possible, trying to maneuver those long slender fingers into her sopping wet mound, onto her ticking time bomb of a clit. Mary chuckled devilishly, moving with her, keeping her fingers only on the outer labia of Shelley’s volcanic cunt.

“Uh, uh, uh,” she said softly, teasingly. “Don’t want you to cum too soon, baby. Now then, my Master thought you were a BAD little slave to his best friend Jonothan. He also thinks it was VERY bad of you to break his gift to me and toss it into the sewer.” Mary leaned forward and very gently, very carefully, nipped the corner of Shelley’s neck where it met the shoulder, causing the tormented beauty to shudder. “Still... Master is a patient and forgiving man. He knows that you’re at a stage right now where you’re still fighting the slave in you. He suggested that I help you... teach you how much pleasure you get by giving in, submitting to someone else.” She giggled girlishly, leaning down to suckle Shelley’s large heavy breasts for a moment, increasing the steady stream of moans trickling forth from the girl. “If you want to cum,” she said in a low, sexy voice, “you’re going to have to submit to me. It’ll be so fucking hot, baby! Not nearly as good as when your own Master Jonothan finally forces you to submit to him... mmmmmmm... there’s nothing as hot as submitting to your one true Master! But this... well, I think right now this is about all you can take.”

“N-n-n... n-n-nooo. Nooo...” Shelley babbled, writhing, squirming deliciously under Mary’s diabolical touches. “Mary, don’t please! Ohhh... ohh, God! Don’t do this! You have... you have to f... f... ohhh fuuuucccckkkk... mmmmmm... NO! No, you have to fight it! Please, Mary! I’m yo... your friend...”

“I know, silly,” Mary teased, pressing both of Shelley’s bountiful breasts together, licking both rock hard nipples together, simultaneously. “That’s why I’m doing this. There’s no one who deserves the pleasure of this more than you. Shelley, love, I only want you to be as happy as I am.” She nipped the nipple slightly, making Shelley’s breath catch in her throat. “But, sweetheart,” she said sternly, “before I can do that, you have to submit to me. Now. So, do it, baby. Tell me who owns you right now. Tell me who is in control. Tell me who you serve, mind, body, and soul!”

“NOOOOO!” Shelley thrashed, shaking her head back and forth. She wouldn’t give in, couldn’t give in. She pushed, trying frantically to push Mary off of her, to roll her over and escape, but just as before, in her dream, she found herself rendered powerless, unable to get free. Her head was swimming, buzzing with Mary’s soft, gently whispers, telling her to give in, to submit to her, to stop fighting... telling her how good it will feel, how very very good, the pleasure, oh God, the pleasure... if only she’ll give in, and submit. Her clit throbbed relentlessly, and her entire lower body was coated with discharge from her continuously trickling pussy. She wanted badly to cum, needed to, simply had to. Yet Mary, her best friend, her soulmate, her mirror image, cruel and relentless, kept her on the edge, still whispering words of encouragement into her ears.

“Please,” Shelley whispered softly, finally, unable to withstand any more. “Please, Mary, whatever you want, anything, please, please, I just have to cum, let me cum, please, Mary, please, oh God, I can’t stand it! Please! Please! PLEASE!”

“Say it... slave,” Mary said warmly, dangling the prize in front of her like a carrot. “Just call me ‘Mistress’ and I’ll let you cum. It’s not hard. Just say it, my sweet little slave, just say it and you can cum. Oh, baby, sweet little baby, just say it and make me happy!”

The word was slow in coming. It felt almost as if she were passing a kidney stone, instead of merely speaking, but Shelley managed to say the word. “Misssstresssss,” she hissed, her body arching. She tried to tell herself that she hadn’t been broken, that she had said the word only to escape, only to end the torment, but she knew something inside her had shattered in the uttering. She had admitted herself a slave, had submitted, if only in words, to someone else, giving them power over her. Shame and humiliation colored her already reddened face, which strangely only added to her pleasure. Mary, smiling, slid her fingers deep writhing Shelley’s wet open petals, thrusting deep into the velvet softness within, grazing and rubbing the hot twitching clit with each stroke, setting off the little nub with explosive results.

“YYYYEEEESSSSS!!” Shelley screamed at the top of her lungs, as a titanic climax washed over her. Her violent shudders of pleasure did what her struggles for freedom could not, toppling Mary off her. Grinning, her own body filled nearly to the brim in pleasure, Mary continued finger-fucking her ‘slave’, giving the lass orgasm after orgasm, teasing and stroking her vibrating chasm with a practiced hand. Snaring a leg around and between Shelley’s, Mary leaned into her ear again, purring softly in pleasure.

“Yes, baby, yes, good girl,” she said, grinding her own sopping wet pussy against Shelley’s thigh, feeling her own orgasm building. “Cum for me, Shelley. Cum for your Mistress, cum at my command! Your body belongs to me now, for the moment, until you True Master comes to claim you! So right now, for this instant, you are mine, completely, utterly! CUM FOR ME SLAVE GIRL!”

“YYEESSSS!! MISSSTREESSS!!” Shelley cried again, her back arched into a painfully tight bow. The combination of Mary’s vigorous fucking, the soft, sensuous, deeply erotic words, and the image of herself, a slave girl, like the one in the movie, swept her over the edge, shattering her mind completely. Her orgasm shattered as well, into dozens of micro-spasms, wracking her body relentlessly. The pleasure she felt, and being acknowledged as ‘Mistress’ pushed Mary over the edge as well, and she exploded into orgasm as well, clinging tightly to her roommate. Their mutual pleasure continued to build, until Mary was shuddering as hard and as violently as Shelley. Finally, they crossed the threshold, and with one last massive shudder, they passed out, fainting away in each other’s arms.

“I never knew it could be like this,” Shelley said wonderingly as she slid out of the shower, several hours later. “I mean... I knew the thing between you and Eddie was hot, and that you really loved him, but... mmmmmm... oohhhh ffuuuuccckkk...” Shelley gasped, holding tight to the edge of the sink as another aftershock ran through her. The image of Jonothan’s face flittered through her mind. “Whew,” she said after a moment. “I can see now why you’re into all this D & S crap.”

“It’s not crap,” Mary said, smirking, as she slipped from the shower stall as well. Shelley tossed her a towel, and the two naked women dried off. “Anyway, I’m just glad I got the chance to finally show you what you’ve been missing out on. I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Shelley smiled, looking down slightly, shyly. “Well, roomy,” she said slowly, “anytime you’re not too busy your Master, and we’re not too worn out with work... well... uhm, what I meant was... I think I’d like to do that again too.” Mary smiled. “But next time,” Shelley added, returning Mary’s frank gaze, smirking at the surprise in her eyes, “I get to be Mistress.”

The doorbell rang. Sliding into their robes, the two girls ran down the hallway, to the living room. Mary glanced out the peephole, then gasped, wide-eyed. “Oh, my God,” she whispered softly, shucking out of her robe, leaving herself completely naked. She knelt in the center of the floor, then glanced up at Shelley. “It’s my Master,” she said simply to Shelley’s questioning look.

“Well, should I open it or what?” she asked, slightly perturbed to see her friend kneeling naked on the floor. “You’re, um, kinda naked right now.”

Mary smiled softly, her eyes still locked onto the ground below. “This is how a proper slave girl greets her Master. Let him in.”

Sighing, Shelley opened the door, then gasped herself. Eddie, indeed, walked into the room, but he wasn’t alone. Jonothan nodded to Shelley once, following Eddie into the room. Shelley, her heart beating like a kettledrum, pushed the door closed behind them, locking it. Eddie, meanwhile, seeing Mary, smirked, walking in front of her. She stiffened slightly, her posture as flawless as a statue’s, had breasts jutted out proudly for his inspection.

“You slave welcomes you, my Master,” she said humbly, leaning forward, kissing his feet. Eddie smiled and nodded, lifting her gently to her feet. She sighed in pleasure, melting to his touch, her face and chest flushing slightly from the contact. Wordlessly, he led her back down the hallway, into Mary’s bedroom.

Shelley watched the proceedings with strange feelings of disbelief mixed with jealousy. A large part of her now understood, now resonated the feelings of pleasure Mary felt at such an intimate, submissive act, but a small, decreasing, but still deeply-felt part of herself felt unsure. Glancing up, seeing Jonothan’s eyes carefully appraising her, she felt even more anxious.

“She’s very good, isn’t she?” he said idly, glancing down the hallway. “In the beginning, she was almost as much of a ‘hard sell’ as you were, but eventually she came to love the kind of lifestyle she and Eddie share.”

Her throat dry, Shelley croaked softly. “Why are you here?”

A slight smirk curved the corners of his mouth. “Surely you don’t think me the kind of man that gives up easily?” he said, fixing her with his stare. “You left before our date ended. That was rather naughty of you, Shelley.”

She swallowed deeply. “I... that is... I mean...” He stood there, expectantly, and she felt something inside her, the last barrier, crumble to dust. “I’m sorry,” she said humbly. “You were right, that was very naughty of me. Please forgive me for acting like that.”

Jonothan nodded. “I forgave you last night when you ran off. I just wanted to hear the words from your own lips.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box. “I brought you a little gift. I had planned to give it to you at the end of our date, but, well, you know...”

Shuddering, anxious, hoping yet dreading, she took the package. She glanced to him, and he nodded his approval, so she tore at the ribbon, opening the package. Inside, lay a gleaming golden necklace, a slave chain, identical to the one she had worn last night, a perfect match to the one Mary now wore around her neck. The flat metal pendant at the center held her name, engraved in a soft lilting calligraphy font. Her heart skipped a beat as she lifted the chain from the box, gazing with wonder and slight trepidation at the beautiful gift. Turning it around she gazed at pendant’s other side, at the strange indecipherable markings carved into it.

Jonothan took the necklace then, gently, holding up the chain. “Wondering about the inscription, no doubt,” he mused, running a hand gently across her cheek, sending shivers of pleasure through her near-naked form. “It’s Arabic, I believe, dating back to at least 1200 BC. You probably think you can’t read it, but stare at it for a bit, and you’ll see. You already know exactly what it says,”

Indeed, even as he spoke, the lines, strange and disjointed, seemed to move before Shelley’s eyes, rearranging themselves, moving to form five very clear discernable letters. A look of awed wonder replaced confusion on her face. Looking up into Jonothan’s face, she once again found her voice. “Does this mean... that I’m captured? That you have chosen to take me as your... captive?”

A grin came and went across his normally stern features. “Paid more attention to the movie than I thought. Very well then. Yes, Shelley. I have come to claim you. I’ve given you the symbol of your new station in life, your new purpose. I’ve come to take you, dear Shelley, as my slave.”

Wordlessly, disregarding the wetness in her eyes, Shelley calmly, carefully, slid the slave chain around her neck, locking the clasp. She then turned and walked three steps away from Jonothan, and, grabbing the end of the sash around her waist, removed her terrycloth robe. She had the deep satisfaction of seeing Jonothan’s calm reserve completely broken as he gazed with wonder and obvious longing at her beautiful naked body. Smiling, she knelt at his feet, assuming the posture Mary had taken when Eddie had entered the house.

Jonothan stepped forward, gazing down at her, and finally, at last, Shelley let the tears flow unreserved, smiling, as she humbly leaned forward, kissing his feet. She rose back to her knees, sitting on her heels. “Your slave welcomes you, my Master,” she said softly, tenderly, and with much love. She accepted his strong hand when it came, lifting her to her feet, and followed meekly but joyously as he led her down the hallway into her bedroom.