The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Martha always told anyone who would listen that she thought she was the luckiest girl in the world. A small legacy from her grandfather meant that she got through college without having to take out even a single student loan. And just as she was graduating with an English degree and absolutely no idea what to do with it, what did she do? She won the lottery. Seriously, she won the actual state lottery. Nine hundred thousand dollars after taxes, just dumped right into her lap. Not enough for an ultra-wealthy lifestyle; but Martha had lived in Hershey, Pennsylvania her whole life, and she’d always known what she wanted to do for a living if she got the chance. And now, it had happened—she was one of the few, the proud, the chocolate taste-testers! It didn’t pay much—just a small stipend in exchange for filling out detailed forms on the taste, smell, and texture of the candy she got from the company—but as far as her sweet tooth was concerned, it was a dream job. She got to eat candy for a living! It didn’t make dieting any easier, of course, but Martha had long ago resigned herself to shopping in the plus-size section of the department store.

Yes, Martha had thought for a long time now that she was the luckiest girl in the world. But today, she knew it.

“Let me get this straight, Doctor Tanner,” she said. “You’re telling me that eating these chocolates will actually make me lose weight?”

Doctor Tanner smiled. It went a long way to relieving the somewhat severe effect of her appearance. She clearly went out of her way to dress professionally, hiding her green eyes behind a pair of thick glasses and pulling her blonde hair back into a tight bun. “Please, Ms Radcliffe,” she said, “call me Cassidy. And I’m quite serious. You see, the human brain has developed certain survival mechanisms over the eons, instincts that have helped us stay alive in times when our food supply has been uncertain. Our brains instruct our bodies to find foods that are high in fats and sugars—quick energy in the immediate future that can be transformed into fatty tissue and stored for later use when food is scarce.”

“You don’t need to tell me about that,” Martha said, smiling ruefully and looking down at her own ample belly. “I know all about craving sugar.”

“And it’s exactly those cravings that I’m talking about,” Cassidy said. “You’re simply a highly adapted lifeform, that’s all. A machine designed to store energy as efficiently as possible. Your mind might know that there’s plenty of food in the cupboard, but your body is telling you to watch out because famine could be just around the corner. That’s where these chocolates come in.”

“What,” Martha said, “they’re...appetite suppressants?”

“Not exactly,” Cassidy replied. She held up her hands, palms out. “You see, there are certain key regions of your brain responsible for regulating your body’s input and output. On the one hand, it generates cravings for food...” She lifted her right hand up. “And on the other, it’s instructing your body not to use any of the energy it’s stored as fat, and keeping your metabolism low.” She lowered her left hand. “So suppressing your appetite alone wouldn’t do the job, because you’d still have trouble losing the weight you already have.”

Martha nodded. “I tried those diet shakes for a month, you know, back when I was in college. They tasted terrible, I was always hungry, and do you know how much I lost? Two pounds.”

“That’s where the chocolates come in,” Cassidy said. “They contain a chemical that stimulates a part of your brain that synchronizes your appetite with your metabolism. So the more of these special chocolates you have,” she continued, slowly returning her hands to their old position, “the better your body judges how much you need to eat and how fast it uses up the energy, until—” She snapped her fingers with both hands, and dropped them back down to the desk. “You’re at your ideal weight, and your body keeps a healthy metabolic balance. None of the dangers of stimulants, none of the risk of diuretics...the perfect weight-loss program. The only real question is how it tastes...and that’s where you come in.”

Martha wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She’d actually had dreams just like this, about chocolate you could eat as much of as you wanted without gaining weight, and this was even better. “It sounds...” She fluttered her hands in excitement. “Go ahead and back up the truck, Doc!” she cried out.

Cassidy chuckled. “Well, there are a few formalities to be worked out. Since this is a bit more involved than just adding a new layer of caramel, we’ll need you to sign a few extra release forms.” She slid a small sheaf of papers across the desk to Martha. “Just standard legalese, nothing to worry about.”

Martha skimmed the forms, her eyes glazing over just a little as she tried to wade through the incomprehensible legal jargon. It looked pretty straightforward, just a release from indemnity in the event of any side effects. She looked up at Cassidy. “Side effects?” she asked. “Like what?” She remembered hearing about some of the side effects of that olestra stuff, words getting tossed around like ‘anal leakage’, and shivered.

Cassidy shook her head. “We haven’t noticed any problems in the test animals; but since it acts on brain chemistry, we can’t rule out an effect on your moods or your feelings, something subtle that might not show up in a cat or a rat.” She reached into her desk and brought out a small leather-bound notebook. “Which is why we’d like you to keep a journal of your thoughts and feelings while you’re testing the chocolates, just to supplement the weekly interviews. Anything that you feel is a significant change to your thoughts or emotions, just write it down in here.”

Martha took the notebook, then scribbled her signature on the release forms. “Alright,” she said. “Anything else I should know?”

“Nothing comes to mind,” Cassidy said, standing up and heading over to a refrigerated cabinet. “Of course, standard non-disclosure agreements apply, don’t go sneaking this stuff off to other candy companies...or to diet food makers, for that matter.” She pulled out a plain white cardboard box and handed it to Martha. “There shouldn’t be any side effects from overdosing, but try to make those last all week.”

Martha grinned. “If this works, that shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Cassidy smiled right along with her. “Let’s hope not. Anyhow, I’ll see you next Monday at the same time...oh, and make sure to keep track of your weight. We’d like to know how fast the pounds melt away for the ad campaign.”

With a nod and a chuckle, Martha made her way out of Cassidy’s lab. She always liked visiting the labs—Martha had never really felt responsible enough to own a pet, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying the trip past the rows and rows of lab animals playing in their cages. She pressed her finger to the bars as a cat rubbed up against it, and watched the rabbits for a moment...until she realized just what they were doing, then she blushed crimson and headed rapidly for the door. They were known for it, after all, but still...

When she got home, she tossed the journal by her bed, put the box of chocolates in the fridge (Cassidy hadn’t said to keep them cool, but it probably couldn’t hurt) and pulled out one for right now. With a slight grimace of anticipation, she popped it into her mouth, fully prepared to have her favorite flavor overwhelmed by yucky medicine. But no, all she could taste was the smooth, rich, sweet flavor of milk chocolate on her tongue.

Martha smiled contentedly. Luckiest girl in the world.

There were twenty-one chocolates in the box, enough to have one with every meal for the next seven days. Which wasn’t quite enough chocolate for Martha’s tastes, but she had more than enough candy around the house to supplement the miraculous little bon-bons.

And ‘miraculous’ was exactly the word. By dinnertime on the first day, Martha found enough energy to dust the kitchen cupboards, mop the dining room floor, and finally get around to rearranging the bookshelves in her living room while she watched TV. She remembered Cassidy’s comments about metabolism; obviously, her body had decided to turn a little of that fat back into “get up and go”, and she was definitely getting up and going. She felt more productive than she had in years.

Even when her bedtime rolled around, Martha felt like she had a little bit too much pep to get to sleep. She lay down in bed, but instead of feeling tired like she usually did, she felt oddly...restless. Like there was something her body wanted to tell her, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Something...

She wiggled around for a moment, suddenly aware of how warm she was under the covers. She felt a strange tightness between her thighs, a sort of... Even in the privacy of her own house and the darkness of her own room, Martha found herself blushing. Was that what it was? She’d never had much of a sex drive, not even when she was a teenager. Chocolate always seemed to last longer, and it never turned you down for a date. But tonight, all this excess energy just seemed to be heading straight to her hips, as it were.

Shy she may be, but Martha wasn’t completely clueless. If her body was telling her it had some needs to take care of, she knew how to handle it. She reached down between her legs and started rubbing her pussy, almost shocked at how wet it already was. It felt like she’d needed this all night long, like her body had been just waiting for her to stop fiddling around with the housework and get straight to fingering herself.

“Mmmmnnnh...” Martha’s tiny moan sounded surprisingly loud in the empty house, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone was going to hear her, she thought as her other hand snaked up to her breasts and began rhythmically pinching her nipples, first one then the other. She could scream like a banshee, moan and whimper and yell in the throes of passion if she wanted. She could do anything, no matter how perverted, and nobody would know. The thought enthralled her and made her fingers piston all the quicker in and out of her slick pussy.

Martha’s legs spread wider, now, her body opening up to give her fingers more access to her needy pussy. She heard herself panting loudly for breath as she rubbed her clit with her thumb, and her whole body tensed and relaxed in time with her motions. She felt hot, tight surges of pleasure flowing up from her pussy through her whole body, sensitizing her skin where it brushed against the sheets and making her quiver at the sensations. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, and her hips bucked and thrust upward to meet her hand as she added a third finger and kept pumping away, so close now, so very...

She let out a loud, animal grunt as she came, feeling her juices drench her fingers as her pussy clenched and spasmed around her hand. It felt better than she’d ever remembered before, and the dreamy bliss of the afterglow seemed to cling to her as she sagged back down against the mattress and let herself drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Martha checked the scale. Her jaw dropped when she saw the number flashing up at her from the digital readout. 305.5! She’d lost almost ten pounds in one day! She practically skipped down the hall to breakfast, not even bothering to put on clothes as she washed down her morning chocolate with a big bowl of cereal.

By the time lunch rolled around, she was practically bursting with energy. She’d cleaned the whole house from top to bottom, and dropped off some of her old outfits at Goodwill—after all, if this worked, she’d never need those old “fat clothes” again! She’d even managed to do a little writing, which was something she’d been promising herself she’d do for about three years now; but there always seemed to be something good on TV and a comfy couch to watch it on.

But now, when she sat on the couch, she found herself thinking of other things...she went through the pay-per-view guide with a new interest, the titles of the ‘adult’ entries suddenly sounding less perverse and more intoxicating. Before long, she’d found herself purchasing a porno movie, and she made sure to slip a tape into the VCR so she could record it for later.

She wound up frigging herself to orgasm twice that evening—once while she watched the movie as it played, and a second time after rewinding it to a really hot scene with two guys and two girls and letting it play. She needed to take another shower before she went to bed just to wash the smell of sex off of her body.

The next day, she checked the scale again, and was thrilled to see another ten pounds had dropped away. But on the downside, she’d finished up all her chores for the week over the course of the last two days’ whirlwind activity, and finding something to occupy her time was proving a little difficult. She wrote a bit in the journal Cassidy had given her about the extra vitality the chocolates had given her, but decided not to mention everything about the last couple of days. Really, Cassidy didn’t need to know about the way she’d been fingering... stroking... rubbing... cumming...

Martha spent the rest of the day on the couch with the video.

By Friday, she’d stopped bothering to shower before she went to bed. There was just something so delightfully decadent about lying there under the covers, letting the mingled scent of arousal and sweat and sticky pussyjuice waft up to her nostrils. Usually, it made her play with herself one more time before she fell asleep, constantly amazed at just how much pleasure she could wring out of her sleepy body. She’d spent about fifty dollars on pay-per-view porn, now, trying to find out exactly what she liked and disliked (and watching the stuff she liked again and again...she’d never realized just how much she could get turned on by this stuff!)

She went grocery shopping on Saturday, and picked up enough food to get her through the next couple of weeks. Mostly, she went for food that was either canned or frozen; she’d already managed to make three days’ worth of food last for six, and it was starting to dawn on her just how much less she was eating. Walking down the grocery store aisles was usually a tantalizing ordeal; but today, she looked at cookies and cake and frozen pizza with only mild interest. She wanted to tell someone the good news, but thoughts of that non-disclosure agreement stopped her. The only person she could really talk to about this was Doctor Tanner, and she didn’t know her number.

As soon as she got home, she flung off her now very-loose clothes, eager to feel the air on her naked skin. She shivered in ecstasy as she stripped, privately pledging that from now on, clothes were strictly for outside the house. In the privacy of her own place, she could feel free to be nude...and slick, and dripping, and horny, and...

The next couple of days passed pretty quickly after that.

“So how have things gone?” Cassidy asked. “Obviously pretty well, just judging from appearances.”

Martha squealed in glee. “Sixty pounds!” she said. “I’ve lost sixty pounds! I’ve had to punch two new holes in my belt! I’d have bought a whole new wardrobe, but I figured, why buy now when the fat keeps melting away?” And when I don’t wear clothes much anymore, she added silently.

Cassidy smiled warmly. “And you’re still feeling good? No depression, mood swings, anything like that?”

Martha tried to conceal her blush and affected a nonchalant tone as she gestured to the journal and said, “It’s all in there. Feeling just fine, better than ever. No weirdness at all.” It suddenly struck her just how closely Cassidy resembled one of the porn stars she’d been masturbating to, and she tried to push the thought out of her head as she clenched her thighs together tightly.

“Really?” Cassidy fixed her with a penetrating gaze as she picked up the journal and began to flip through it. “You haven’t noticed anything unusual besides a boost in energy levels. Nothing odd at all.”

Martha looked down at the desk, at her shoes, really anywhere except at those accusing eyes (and that body, oh fuck, how had she not noticed how goddamn sexy Cassidy was when she talked to her last week? She hid it well with those clothes, but God, those tits were huge. Martha felt like she could just bury her face in them...) “No, nothing else.”

“I see,” Cassidy said, standing up. “Then perhaps you might want to tell me what you did this weekend.”

“I...” Martha trailed off, blushing bright crimson. Oddly enough, the embarrassment of being caught in a lie, especially one about sex, didn’t seem to be doing anything to halt the arousal building in her pussy. If anything, it seemed to increase it. Something about the way Cassidy glared sternly down at her as she sat there, meekly staring at the floor...it just made Martha’s cunt juice up like it was going to soak clean through her sweatpants.

“I thought so,” Cassidy said, crossing her arms. “Martha, you really do need to write everything down in this journal. It’s vitally important that we have all the information about what this drug is doing to you, even if it does seem too personal to talk about. If it’s privacy you’re worried about, you can rest assured that I’m going to be the only one who knows that you wrote that journal. Everyone else will just know it was one of our test sub—” She caught herself. “One of our testers.”

Right now, even one person seemed like one person too many. Especially when that person was standing right there in front of Martha, and Martha was sure that she was starting to get a damp spot on the crotch of her outfit and that Doctor Tanner had to have noticed it by now... “Sorry, Doctor Tanner,” she said contritely. It seemed somehow appropriate to address her by her last name under the circumstances. “I understand. I’ll do better from now on, I promise.”

“Good,” Cassidy said, relaxing a bit. “Now, would you like to tell me what you didn’t write in that journal this week?”

Martha hesitated for a moment, not wanting to confess just how much she’d been masturbating; but Doctor Tanner just seemed so...authoritative, standing there. “I’ve been horny,” she said quietly. “Really horny, every day. It’s like my sex drive’s just gone crazy, I’ve been going nuts, fantasizing about men, about...” She looked up at Cassidy for a moment, hoping she wasn’t about to freak her out. “About women, too. I’ve never felt like this before.”

Cassidy didn’t freak out. She smiled warmly and uncrossed her arms, putting a hand on Martha’s shoulder. “There,” she said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? And for the record, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. It’s probably not even a side effect of the drug.” Martha let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “You’re losing a lot of weight, and it’s probably just making you more aware of your body and your sexuality in ways you hadn’t really let yourself think about before now. That’s perfectly natural, even healthy. You’re letting out some of your repressed feelings, and it’s alright to explore and see where that leads you.”

Martha felt almost pathetically grateful to hear Cassidy’s words; she felt like she wanted to lean her head down and nuzzle at the hand that was touching her like a cat rubbing up against its owner. With an effort, she controlled herself. “Alright,” she said. “Thank you. For understanding, I mean.”

“Not a problem.” Cassidy took her hand away and headed towards the fridge. Martha almost asked her to come back. “Here’s this week’s supply of chocolates,” she said as she pulled out another unmarked box. “You say you haven’t noticed any sort of unusual flavor in them at all?”

“No, nothing,” Martha said, gratefully taking the box and silently reveling in the instant where their fingers touched. “If I didn’t know the chemical was in there, I’d swear it was just normal chocolate.”

“Perfect,” Cassidy said with a wide smile. “Just what I wanted to hear. Have fun this week,” she said as she returned to her desk. Was it Martha’s overheated imagination, or did Cassidy actually wink at her as she turned to leave? Imagination, Martha thought. Had to be. She started walking past rows of yowling cats and frantically copulating mice.

“Martha?” Cassidy didn’t raise her voice much, but there was a tone of command to it that made Martha instantly stop in her tracks. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Martha turned to see Cassidy holding up the journal. “Oh!” Martha said, scurrying back to pick it up. “Sorry, ma’am,” she said.

Cassidy smiled indulgently. “Just remember what I told you, Martha,” she said, looking straight at Martha. Her eyes seemed somehow magnified by the glasses. “Write down everything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Martha replied, not trusting herself to say anything more. She took the journal and left quickly.

On her way out of the building, she stopped off in the restroom and masturbated. The whole time, she pictured Cassidy watching.

Was that really normal? Martha pondered the question as she drove home. Cassidy had said it was. She’d said Martha was just exploring her sexuality in new ways; but Martha wasn’t sure whether she wanted to believe that because it was true, or because it validated her behavior. (Or because for some reason, she got a hot sexy shiver all the way down her spine when she agreed with Doctor Tanner...) Martha had never thought about herself as bisexual; but then again, she had to admit that Cassidy was right. She’d never thought of herself as anythingsexual. Her experience with dating was limited, her experience with sex almost non-existent; really, the more Martha thought about it, the more of a recluse she realized she’d become since getting out of college and buying her house. Maybe she really did need to explore her sexuality more.

On impulse, she swung off the freeway and headed north. She’d never been into the store she was driving towards; but despite thinking of it as a place for perverts, she knew where it was. And a solid week of watching porn had left her knowing exactly the sorts of things she could get there. With a sudden rush of heat between her thighs, Martha remembered just how much the women in those videos seemed to enjoy their toys. Time to see if they really did the job better than fingers. Cassidy was right, Martha decided. For all that she was thirty-three, in terms of sexual experience she was just out of puberty. She needed to make up for lost time, and she could start by exploring her own body. She pulled into the parking lot of ‘Adult Playland’ with a tiny shiver of anticipation.

When she got inside, Martha almost didn’t know where to start. They had whole rows of sex toys, dildos and double-dildos and vibrators and butt plugs and things that looked like they were designed to do practically all those things at once. Martha walked up and down the aisle, occasionally picking up a package and reading some of the text. “Guaranteed to find your G-spot in minutes!” Martha wasn’t even sure what her G-spot was. She’d heard people talk about it in some of the porn she’d been watching, but apart from hearing that it really felt good to find, they didn’t get into detail. Martha looked over at the counter, where a girl with bright green hair was half-watching a lesbian orgy. Should she ask for help? What would the girl tell her? The thought seemed simultaneously embarrassing and clit-sparkingly hot.

She wandered through a bit more of the store, finding a DVD section. She saw some porn that looked to be a lot more explicit than the stuff she could order over her cable box, and she made a mental note to drift by here again on her way out. Surprisingly, she found herself lingering a lot more over the lesbian porn than the hetero stuff. She’d been enjoying the threesomes and foursomes on pay-per-view; but as she looked at the various covers, she realized that while the cocks still looked nice, it was the girls that got her motor running now.

Which it was, she realized. She wanted to slip off to the ladies’ room and masturbate again, but the signs warning, “These premises monitored by closed-circuit cameras” discouraged her. Well, they discouraged the part of her that didn’t want to get arrested for lewd conduct. They definitely didn’t discourage the part of her that suddenly fantasized about displaying her slick cunny to whoever watched the cameras, giving them a full show of her frigging herself off and—She locked that thought off, continuing her trip through the store.

She passed by magazines, which seemed pretty tame after the DVDs. She passed by lubes that warmed and lubes that tingled and lubes in all sorts of different flavors. She passed by lingerie, and while she did enjoy a few moments of picturing herself in something lacy, she decided to wait until she’d finished losing weight before she thought about buying any. She passed—

Martha stopped. Her eyes locked onto the display. A mannequin stood there, dressed in a black leather catsuit, holding a broad, flat paddle and wearing a strap-on that jutted from its crotch in a way that made Martha’s mouth water. Another mannequin knelt in front of the first, this one wearing an outfit of navy-blue latex, one with holes cut out where the crotch and the nipples went. All around the display, pegs held ball-gags and riding crops and nipple clips and restraints for just about every part of the body.

Martha felt a hot, tingling blush spread over her whole body. She felt like she’d just been plugged into an electrical outlet. Her cunt was absolutely burning with need, the heat radiating all the way up to nipples that had gone hard and pebbly under her clothes. It was like her body had been waiting her whole life for her to see this, to find this secret world of dark pleasure and say, “Mine.” She felt like a puzzle piece being fitted into the slot meant for it. She felt like she was an engine and this had finally turned the key.

Her mind raced with fantasies. Everything her eyes alit on became the center of a new daydream. She looked at padded handcuffs, and pictured them locked around her wrists and ankles as she writhed and struggled helplessly. She noticed a set of nipple clips, and imagined the exquisite pleasure/pain of them pinching the sensitive flesh so vividly that she shuddered. Her knees buckled slightly under her, and Martha realized that she wanted to kneel like the mannequin.

“Finding everything all right?” The voice behind her made Martha jump, and she realized as she turned around that she’d been standing there staring at the display for over five minutes. She tried to pretend nonchalance, but the visible damp patch on her sweatpants made it difficult.

“I’m, um...I’m just looking,” Martha said. The girl (whose nametag read ‘Tammy’) gave her a knowing smile that suggested she knew just what Martha was looking at, and what was going through her head when she looked at it. She’d probably seen it all, working here. The green hair, multiple piercings, and visible tattoos suggested that she’d probably seen it all even before she started working here.

“Well, I’m here to help,” Tammy said, putting her hand very lightly on Martha’s arm. Martha stopped breathing for a moment. “If there’s anything you want a closer look at, just ask. It’s pretty slow at this time of day, I’ve got nothing but time.”

Was she flirting? Martha wasn’t sure. She didn’t have much experience with flirting. It didn’t happen very often to girls like...Martha’s eyes flicked down at her body, reminding herself that she was a slightly more svelte 255. She still didn’t exactly feel sexy and desirable, but her body had definitely slimmed down in some of the right places and kept the extra weight in some of the very right places, and Tammy seemed to like what she was seeing. Or maybe it was just Martha’s imagination. It probably was. She probably was just being helpful. But she hadn’t taken her hand off Martha’s arm yet...

“I was just curious about, um...that,” Martha said, vaguely waving her arm in the direction of the display. She hoped Tammy didn’t ask for more specifics; the other girl seemed to be so worldly about these things, and Martha didn’t want to embarrass herself by admitting that she’d never even thought about kinky sex until just now.

“Oh, the paddle?” Tammy asked, taking it out of the mannequin’s hand and hefting it with practiced ease. Martha just blushed and nodded, unwilling to correct her. “It’s a very nice model, has a lot of control and a good, well-balanced swing.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling, and this time Martha knew she was flirting. “If you’d like to see how it feels, I could show you real quick.”

Martha’s heart pounded in her chest. Her throat closed up. She clenched her thighs together tightly as her head swam. Unable to speak, she just nodded.

“What was that?” Tammy asked. Her smile became just slightly cruel as she swished the paddle back and forth in the air, and Martha’s pussy throbbed at the sight.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, turning around. She wished she could strip naked to feel this more fully; but there was just enough of her that remained rational to stop herself, to pretend that this was just a product demonstration between a customer and a saleswoman and not any kind of perverse, fetishistic—

SMACK! The paddle slapped against her ass hard, and the intense mix of pleasure and pain brought tears to Martha’s eyes. The sensation started out so sharp, so sudden, but then it just melted down into a burning heat on her ass that made Martha rub her thighs together and keen softly over the music coming from the store’s sound system. Oh god, this was so wonderful, so hot and dirty and twisted and oh so fucking right that she—

SMACK! Tammy swung the paddle down again, harder this time, and Martha couldn’t help herself. She squealed in pleasure at the feeling of the paddle hitting her already sensitized ass. She was wriggling in pleasure now, her eyes clenched shut so that she could focus completely on that wonderful feeling Tammy was causing. She could feel every beat of her heart now, the blood pumping to the stinging flesh of her ass-cheeks and causing a throbbing, pounding rush that was echoed in her clit. She wanted to reach down and finger it, the need was so intense and the pleasure was so powerful and she was so aroused and hot and—

SMACK! Her whole body shook with that swing, and she could hear Tammy breathing hard in a way that she knew wasn’t just down to the exertion of swatting her ass. Martha’s own breath came in heaving, panting gasps as Tammy held the paddle against her for just a moment, rubbing the raised nubs on the paddle’s surface into her burning ass-cheeks. The fabric of her sweatpants felt like it wasn’t even there, the sensation just went straight through them and Martha groaned in need, her whole body primed to cum now, her clit throbbing and her cunt soupy and her ass burning and her nipples tight and aching and she was so close, she just needed, needed—

SMACK! Martha let out a choking, strangled gasp as she came. She barely managed to keep her footing as the orgasm overwhelmed her, not even needing to touch herself as the rush of sensation crashed through her like a tidal wave and made her pussy spasm in bliss. She felt her juices flowing freely, and she knew it must be obvious to Tammy that she was cumming, but that just made it so much hotter, so much more exciting to think about the other girl watching her cum from the spanking she’d received. It felt so perfectly intimate, as though she’d skipped taking off her clothes and stripped her soul naked for Tammy to touch.

She almost didn’t hear Tammy at first. “Wha...what was that?” she whimpered out incoherently.

“I said, what did you think?” Tammy asked, her voice perfectly neutral. She sounded like she’d just shown off a new toaster.

“I...um...yes, please,” Martha babbled.

By the time she left, she had the paddle, a ball gag and a set of padded cuffs for her wrists and ankles, a vibrator that Tammy swore would leave her flat on her back gasping for air, a set of nipple clips, and a half-dozen lesbian bondage DVDs. She’d been tempted to buy the latex outfit as well, but she decided to wait until her weight stabilized, first. The whole way home, her ass throbbed and tingled against the car seat, and she flung her clothes off as soon as she got back into the house.

By the end of the day, she’d watched every single one of the DVDs, and she collapsed into bed (face-down, naturally) with visions of leather-clad dominatrixes dancing through her head. Even her dreams metamorphosized into sadomasochistic fantasies. She dreamt that she was the girl in ‘Dungeon of Delight’, naked and shivering as the woman in the leather mask drizzled candle wax onto her stomach. Just before she woke up, she watched her Mistress remove her mask, and she saw Cassidy’s face...

The next day was devoted to rewatching her favorite moments, and to updating her journal. At first, she was a little reluctant to describe her sexual experiences from the last day, but Cassidy’s instructions seemed to echo through her head. “Write down everything.” Martha imagined the leather-masked woman saying it, and she found herself writing with one hand while her other hand diddled her clit until her handwriting got very unsteady.

By Thursday, the itch for variety had built up, and she drove back to the store to pick up some more DVDs. She was disappointed to find that there was a guy behind the counter this time. It wasn’t that he wasn’t cute, and all, and he was very attentive to her (she was down to 219 by now, with no sign of loose and flabby skin—if anything, she seemed to have lost even the little wrinkles and crow’s feet she was starting to notice before she started on the chocolates. She could probably pass for twenty-five, now.) But she just couldn’t seem to shake her dreams of stern, blonde women in leather. The urge for hetero sex was still there, she realized, but it was somehow...dormant. As though it’d be there waiting for her the second a Mistress commanded her to fuck a man (and she spent the whole time at the register lost in that fantasy, picturing Mistress ordering her to go behind the counter and kneel down, sucking the clerk’s cock until he shot his load all over her face and tits...)

She spent the whole weekend naked.

Martha walked slowly through the lab when she returned on Monday, trying to arrange her thoughts into some semblance of normality. It wasn’t working. She’d spent so much of the last week immersing herself in BDSM that she couldn’t quite seem to connect with regular life again. She walked past cats in heat, mice and rabbits screwing mindlessly, dogs humping each other through the bars of their cages, and every animal reminded her of her own animalistic lust. She clenched the journal in her hand, trying not to think about all the sexual fantasies it contained, and the number of times she’d admitted to fantasizing about the woman she was about to see. (She’d tried very hard to stop herself from writing that, but every time, she thought about Cassidy’s stern disapproval, and that got her hot, and when she got hot, she got distracted and it got harder to refuse that refrain in her head of “Write down everything, write down everything,” and the thought of obeying a command got her so aroused that she had to just let her fantasies pour out onto the page. She’d actually masturbated to her own journal a few times.)

Cassidy was sitting at her desk waiting for her, jotting down a few notes. “Ah, Martha,” she said, looking up. “Lost some more weight, I see.”

Martha nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. If she didn’t look up at Cassidy, she wouldn’t think about that body, those eyes, the way that she dressed to make herself look serious and authoritative and how much it did to enhance her powerful dominant sexuality...Martha became slowly aware of just how submissive it made her feel to be unable to meet Cassidy’s gaze, and her pussy began to heat up all over again. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I’m down to 185.”

“Well,” Cassidy said, “looking at your BMI, your weight should stabilize over the next week or so. If you lose much more than about sixty more pounds, we’ll need to discontinue the regimen—at least until we figure out why your brain doesn’t like being at its ideal weight,” she continued quickly as she saw Martha’s obvious discomfort.

“Yes, ma’am,” Martha responded. Her eyes flicked up at Cassidy briefly. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping to see—interest, excitement, understanding—but Cassidy had the same look of neutral detachment she’d had in Martha’s previous visits. Even that felt strangely erotic to Martha, though; she felt like Cassidy was judging her, evaluating her, testing her to see if she was really submissive enough to become Cassidy’s—

She blinked sharply, dredging her mind out of the fantasy. “Sorry, what?” she said. She’d totally lost track of Cassidy’s words in her reverie.

“I asked about the journal,” Cassidy said. “You have been keeping up with it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Martha said, handing it over with trembling hands.

Cassidy spent long moments flipping through the pages. “I see,” she said after a while. “And you’ve spent all week...like this?” she asked in clipped tones. Martha wasn’t sure if she was offended or just trying to keep her professional detachment.

“Yes, ma’am,” Martha replied. Now that Cassidy said it, Martha had to admit that it seemed a bit unusual. Exploring her sexuality was one thing, but Martha thought over the last week and tried to remember even a single waking moment where she hadn’t been obsessed with sex, hadn’t been watching fetish porn or surfing through bondage websites with her ankles cuffed to her computer chair, pulling against the cuffs just to feel the tug of the straps against her flesh as the vibrator buzzed away inside her sticky pussy...

She shook her head a little to clear it as Cassidy peered at her. “Are you aroused right now, Martha?” she asked.

Martha nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she said again. Even those words got her horny. Maybe the drugs in the chocolate really were doing something screwy to her head, she thought, maybe that was why she was constantly thinking about women fucking her with strap-ons while she moaned helplessly into a ball gag, drool spilling down her chin as she bucked back against the fake cock and felt her clit tingling and her pussy spasming in pleasure and—

“Martha,” Cassidy said sternly, and Martha realized she’d lost track of the other woman’s speech again. “You need to concentrate.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Martha said, and apologizing like that made her clit pulse in submissive ecstasy.

“As I was saying, I want to examine you,” Cassidy repeated. “If you could just step over to the table, please, and disrobe?”

Martha stifled a whimper as she (obeyed, complied, submitted) followed the instruction. Part of her wasn’t even sure if this was real, or if she’d slipped into another daydream of Cassidy ordering her to take her clothes off and lie down on the medical examination table; but if this was a fantasy, it was a vivid one. She slipped her clothes off, all too aware of the wet spot on her panties, and lay back on the table and put her feet into the stirrups. She could feel her juices slowly ooze onto the tissue paper that covered the exam table.

Cassidy pulled on a pair of latex gloves, and Martha gripped the sides of the table tightly in an effort to control her arousal. This had to be deliberate, Cassidy had to know how badly this was getting to her—but no. When she looked at the doctor’s face, she saw nothing there but medical interest. Almost deliberately so, like she was getting off on not getting off on this...but that was crazy, wasn’t it? Martha was just imagining it because she wanted so badly to see Cassidy as a domme that she was projecting this idea of Cassidy enjoying Martha squirm, wanting to see how much “accidental” stimulation it would take before Martha’s veneer of normality broke and she became a whimpering, begging slavegirl who would do anything, anything at all if Cassidy would only let her...

She felt Cassidy’s fingers carefully pulling apart her labia, and it took all of Martha’s self-control not to thrust her hips into Cassidy’s hand. “How often have you been masturbating, Martha?” Cassidy asked.

“fffffive...six times a day,” Martha husked out. “Sometimes more.”

“Interesting,” Cassidy said, running her finger along Martha’s perineum. “And you haven’t noticed any soreness, chafing, any pain of any kind?”

“n-no,” Martha said, her voice unsteady. “Feels...feels good...”

“Very interesting,” Cassidy said. “I’d thought there might be some therapeutic effects of the drug in terms of tissue revitalization, but this is more than I’d hoped for. And do you always lubricate this much?”

“I, I don’t...I think so, yes...” Martha closed her eyes, giving into the sensations and letting her head get fuzzy with arousal. “yes, I please...” She caught herself about to beg for orgasm, and gritted her teeth.

“And you generally achieve orgasm quickly?” Cassidy asked, the tone of her voice not giving away any awareness at all of how badly her touches were affecting Martha.

“yes, oh god yes...” Martha groaned out, unable now to stop her hips from gently rolling back and forth in a hungry rhythm.

“I’m sorry,” Cassidy said, “I’m sure this is quite embarrassing for you, but could you demonstrate for me?”

“yes, Mistress,” Martha whispered. She hoped Cassidy hadn’t noticed her slip, but she didn’t care anymore; she didn’t care about anything except the way her hand slid down to her pussy and the way her fingers thrust into her needy cunt and the way her body surged with pleasure, already so needy and hot and horny and she imagined latex fingers instead of her own, imagined Cassidy frigging her off with that same calm expression on her face, showing how powerful she was as she kept control even while her slavegirl totally lost it and came so hard...

“Thank you, Martha,” Cassidy said once Martha had finally stopped shaking. “You can get dressed now.” Martha slowly opened her eyes and slid off the table, her legs shaking underneath her as she put her clothes back on. While she was doing that, Cassidy headed over to the fridge and brought out another box of chocolates. “Here we go,” she said. “I’ve included a couple of extras, since you’ve been such a co-operative girl.”

Martha wanted to ask if Cassidy thought the chocolates were making her so horny and submissive, but something about the way Cassidy handed her the box made her meekly accept it instead. She took the journal as well, and silently made her way back out of the lab.

The whole way home, she replayed the session with Cassidy. In her memories, Cassidy was wearing a leather mask.

‘A couple extras’ turned out to be a full extra box worth of chocolates. Martha almost thought about stopping when she noticed just how much Cassidy was giving her; the connection between her consumption of the drug and her need to be dominated by a hot blonde doctor was obvious, even through her haze of non-stop lust. But whenever she thought about quitting, she thought about how she was being made into a horny submissive slut, and then that got her thinking about how hot it would be to become a horny submissive slut, and then that got her fantasizing about Cassidy remaking her into an obedient slavegirl, and then she realized that Cassidy was doing exactly that and the perfect totality of the fantasy made her gobble down the chocolates with reckless abandon as she squatted down on a vibrating butt plug and fingered herself.

Her weight stabilized after a few days at 130 pounds, and she spent long hours kneeling in front of the mirror, reveling in her sexy, curvaceous body and the way her breasts heaved as she pounded her ten-inch dildo into her cunt. Constant masturbation seemed to tone and firm her muscles, or maybe that was just another side effect of the chocolate. Martha wasn’t sure anymore. She was having trouble thinking about anything except sex, now. Making decisions seemed hard, and she wished she had a Mistress to make them for her.

Most of her journal entries were about that. She’d lost all sense of restraint by now, filing the journal with page after page of fantasies about submitting to Cassidy, kneeling before her and worshipping her body with her tongue and her fingers and describing how powerful, how dominant, how sexy Cassidy was and how much Martha needed to obey her. Re-reading the entries just locked the fantasies in further, like Martha was re-programming her own brain as she soaked in her own desires of slavery and fed them back to herself, again and again and again in what seemed like an endless spiraling descent into obedience and pleasure.

She thanked the heavens that her appetite had diminished over the last couple of weeks; she couldn’t imagine trying to grocery shop in this state. As it was, she knew that a couple of peeping toms had been hiding in the bushes outside her window at night, enjoying the free show she was giving them, but she was long past caring by now. If anything, exhibitionism was just another fetish that the drugs had made irresistible to her.

She managed to get her clothes on (showering wasn’t a problem, the massaging shower head had just made that into another pleasant way to pass the time) and head out to ‘Adult Playland’ again, and part of her had been thrilled to see Tammy back behind the counter...but it just wasn’t the same as it had been last week. Tammy was still just as beautiful, but Martha felt like she was locked off from the arousal she knew she should be feeling. She looked at that long, green hair and wished it was blonde. She couldn’t help wanting to see glasses framing those eyes. Martha knew now that there was only one perfect woman, only one Mistress, and that was Mistress Cassidy. Martha knew she would have to wait for permission to release her slutty, wanton need for other women and other men. And that made so much sense to her now. So she just smiled and bought her latex slavesuit, and left.

She had trouble sleeping Sunday night, petrified that Cassidy wouldn’t accept her devotions. What if she handed Cassidy the diary again, and Cassidy just nodded and read it with clinical detachment? What if Cassidy just sent her home again with more chocolates? What if Cassidy cut off her supply completely? Would she go back to being the Martha she vaguely remembered, the one who didn’t understand how glorious it was to be a horny slutgirl slave? Martha shuddered at the thought.

She drove back to the lab in a haze of anticipation, panic, and lust, so caught up in noticing the sweat trickling down her skin inside the latex suit she wore under her clothes that she barely even noticed the drive. The walk through the complex seemed to take an eternity. She opened the door, and the pit of her stomach yawned in despair.

All the lab animals were gone. The cages had been removed. The fridge had vanished. Even Cassidy’s desk was gone. There was just one box sitting on the floor, filled with papers. Apart from that, the lab was bare and empty.

Martha wanted to cry. It didn’t seem fair. She’d come so far, changed herself so much to be the slave that she knew Cassidy wanted her to be, and now...nothing. She’d been abandoned. She couldn’t go forward, but she couldn’t bear to go back. “Mistress...” she whispered, hearing the lost tones in her own voice.

“Ah, Martha,” came a voice from behind her. Martha turned to see Cassidy, and she couldn’t help herself. She fell to her knees in joy. “Sorry I almost missed you, there. I’m just cleaning out my last few papers before I go.”

“Go?” Martha asked, terror in her voice as she felt the fear return. “Go where?”

Cassidy patted her on the head reassuringly, seemingly unfazed by Martha’s spontaneous demonstration of her devotion. “Go into business for myself,” she said. “I quit. I think my talents are wasted here, don’t you?”

Martha smiled dreamily. “Oh, yes, Mistress,” she said. She didn’t even notice she’d used the word.

“Of course, most of the formulas I’ve worked on are company property,” Cassidy said, stroking Martha’s cheek, “but I kept a few little secrets for myself. I think that should be enough to make my new business a compelling success, don’t you?” Martha had a tiny orgasm when she heard Cassidy say the word ‘compelling’.

“Yes, Mistress,” Martha said, nuzzling Cassidy’s hand. She felt a sense of completeness, being on her knees like this before her Mistress. Like this was what she was always meant for. The burden of independent thought slipped away from her, and she shed it joyfully.

“Which reminds me,” Cassidy said, reaching into her pocket, “I have a present for you. Something to commemorate your contribution to my project.” She pulled out a black leather collar with tiny silver studs. “Would you like to wear it?” she asked.

“Please, Mistress,” Martha whimpered, “please oh please oh please yes please...”

“Good pet,” Cassidy whispered, locking the collar around Martha’s throat. “Now, it’s time for us to go. Up on your feet, pet.” Martha stood; but in her mind, she knew she would always be kneeling.

The two of them headed towards the door, Martha walking three steps behind her Mistress. “Tell me,” Cassidy said, “do you know any other girls who like chocolate?”