The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The first thing Heather noticed was the music. It was completely different from the kind of soundtrack which she normally associated with gyms. Not that she was exactly familiar with such places. The university gave generous discounts for students wanting to stay fit but Heather’s devotion to her academic studies left no time for exercise. She didn’t it anyway. A combination of coffee, working and worry were enough to keep her trim and on the few occasions in the past when she had been tempted to stick her head around the door of the gym it had been the music as much anything which had driven her away. It had just been so loud, so pounding, so incessant. It was meant to energise people, but all it did to Heather was give her a thundering headache.

The stuff in here was quite different. Maybe it was because it was the middle of a weekday afternoon, but whatever the reason the music was delightful. It was softly sensuous ambient arrangements of various classical pieces. Heather could just feel the tension falling off her as she walked from one side of the studio to the other.

The second thing she noticed was the girl who was doing warm up stretches by the treadmill. She was easy to notice because she was currently the only person in sight and because she was drop-dead gorgeous. Heather was not much uninterested in looks, her own or other people’s. As far as she was concerned, the worth of a human being was best measured by what went on inside their heads, not the tightness of their buttocks or the firmness of their thighs. All the same, it was hard not to look at the long, blond female who was stretching her calve muscles in preparation for her work-out and not experience a momentary spasm of jealousy. The girl was tall and slender, except in the right places, and there was not an ounce of excess fat upon her. Even while she was just warming up her body seemed to radiate health and vitality.

The last thing she noticed, although really it ought to have been the first, was that there was no sign of William. She supposed she ought not have been too surprised. Heather was exactly entranced by the idea of exercise but she was positively addicted in comparison to William Fletcher. In the three years that they had worked together on the post graduate psychology course, nothing William had ever said or done had suggested he even knew what a gym was.

And yet the note which he had left for her had been quite unambiguous. Scrawled onto a Post-It note and tucked in the space in her research folder where the missing main third of her thesis was suppose to be, the message had read: “This could be more interesting than you guess. If you want to see how much more interesting, meet me down at the fitness studio.”

Heather had wondered if the message was another example of William’s unfathomable sense of humour, but she had been too desperate to recover her thesis to bother to think too long. She had stuffed what was left of her notes back into the locker from which William had evidently filched them and then legged it as fast as she could down to the gym. Now she was here and there was no sign of anyone apart from this annoyingly beautiful girl who was now tucking her fingers under her toes as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The movement pulled black Lycra tight around her buttocks. The material was so sheer it was like a second skin. It was hard to imagine there was room for even the smallest pair of panties under the material.

Heather thought of asking the woman if she had see William. Stupid idea, she decided. Women who looked this good never noticed men who looked liked William. She might have tried anyway if she had not noticed the white MP3 headphones which the woman was wearing. The focussed expression on her face suggested that she would not relish interruptions, that she was already deep into her routine, her music and the sensations in her body.

“Still,” thought Heather sourly, “If I had a body like that I don’t suppose I’d take much notice of anything else either.”

She turned to walk away, still wondering how to recover her missing thesis. She could complain to the university authorities but that felt like going too far. Heather had known William years and although he had always been strange and a little unreliable she had never seen much evidence of malice. Removing a third of her thesis so close to finals day was either his idea of a great psychological experiment than a deliberate assault. In any event, Heather did not want to blow the whole thing out of all proportion. All she wanted to do was get her missing hundred pages on Cognitive Adjustment Techniques back into its folder and then forget about the whole thing. The only question was: how?

She walked past the silent rows of step machines, stationary bicycles, and other things she did not even know the names of. She was about to leave the gym when an idea suddenly came to her. She had no idea what triggered it but all at once she figured that William was on the other side of the small steel door marked “PRIVATE: Gym Staff Only”. Before she had time to think about where this idea had come she turned aside, seized hold of the door and stepped through it.

Thinking about it afterwards, she figured she should have known right then that something was not right. William had no business being on the other side of a door and she had no reason to guess that he was. And surely he should have been more surprised to see her? But William had not even jumped. He half waved at her and said, “Oh, hi H. Nice of you to come. Why don’t you sit down.”

He always called her H. right since the first time he met her. Like having to shape a whole two syllables was too much effort for a genius like him. But he always insisted that everyone should call him William and never, ever Bill.

“William,” she said evenly. The piles of her hand-written research notes were piled up by his feet. She did know what she was supposed to feel. She supposed she ought to be angry but that emotion felt strangely inaccessible. Somehow she couldn’t look at him sprawling there and imagine being angry at him. Instead, she wanted to mother him. Or something.

“Sit. Sit,” he said. He did not sound angry or guilty. He did not sound like anything very much. It was as if nine-tenths of his concentration was focussed on something else.

“I see you’ve got my thesis.” She felt that she ought to mention this since William did not seem interested in bringing it up. “You know, my thesis that you stole.”

“Yeah, yeah.” His eyes drifted towards the pile of papers. He made a sudden and surprisingly energetic grab for the papers.

“You know,” he said, waving the thesis at her as if he thought that she had never seen it before. “This is very good. Very nearly brilliant.”

“Thank you for your endorsement,” Heather replied, trying to sound ironic but coming out flattered instead. She wondered why that should be. It was not like she needed William’s approval in order to feel validated or worthy. She knew perfectly the work that she had put into her thesis was excellent just the same way she knew that she was a better student than William. It might have been different if he had been prepared to work even one tenth as hard as she did, but he had too much faith in his own talent and it really wasn’t as justified as he thought it was.

“Just as a matter of interest, how do you think you’d react if I said that that thesis was my private work and you had no business poking your piggy little nose into it?”

“I would say,” he replied without the slightest sign of rancour, “That you were a short sighted idiot who was letting pride get in the way of achievement. If I hadn’t gone to the bother of laying my hands on your thesis then what you would have would be a mildly interesting piece of psycho-pharmacological research which would get you the qualification you so abjectly crave and then be put on a shelf and never looked at again. Whereas, thanks to me, it has become a work of practical genius. You see, I have managed to figure out how to get your research to work.”

“What do you mean, work?” Heather’s project had been an investigation of a new group of neurological chemicals and their capacity for improving learning and information retention. The results had been exciting. As far as Heather was concerned, her project was already a success.

“You were happy to settle for improvements in memory,” said William. “That’s cool but it’s never going to make you rich. It needed someone like me to look at your work and see that with just a little alteration you could use it to achieve the big things: psychological over-rides, operative conditioning.” He hesitated for a moment then added. “Mind control.”

Heather couldn’t help herself. She threw back her head and laughed. “Why don’t you tell me that you’ve discovered the Philosopher’s Stone while you’re at it? Mind control is a fantasy, a fallacy, a scientific wet dream.”

“Not at all,” he countered. “Look at this.”

He lowered her notes onto the floor and flicked a hidden switch. Light spilled into the room. It came from a computer monitor, a big, flat, twenty-seven inch LCD which was perched on the far end of the desk. Cables led from the screen to a small black portable PC.

“Look,” he said again.

She came around to his side of the desk and discovered he was perched on a bench rather than the seat she had expected. She lowered himself into the space beside him (there was not a lot of it) and peered at the screen. She was surprised to discover that she was looking at the room she had just come from. The tall, blond girl had finished her warm-up and stepped onto the treadmill. The machine was in motion and the girl was moving with an easy measured pace that was little more than a fast walk.

“I thought you might feel a bit sceptical,” said William, “So I arranged a demonstration. Before we go any further, I ought to tell you that this is Christine and that she has never seen me before and does not even know that I am here. As far as she is concerned, she is on her own, working out in the gym. I can prove all these statements if you insist but it’ll be quicker if you’ll just take my word about them.”

“I’ll believe you,” said Heather, wondering where the hell this was going.

“You see that player arrangement she’s wearing?”

“Sure,” said Heather. “It looks like an iPod,” The resolution of the display and the speed of the video link were both sufficiently good that there was no problem making out the shape of the little white player as it rode along, swinging from a belt around the girl’s hips. She really did have an astonishingly shapely arse, Heather could not help observing. She could easily understand a man like William wanting to use a girl who looked this good as the subject of an experiment. Any kind of experiment.

“Looks like one,” William said. “Acts like one as well, in as much as its currently playing music in her ears. It looks exactly like the one Christine always uses when she comes down here to work out, but as I have managed to substitute a box of my own which sports some unusual modifications.”

He tapped a few commands on the keyboard and rather tinny music suddenly burst out from the laptop’s miniature speakers. Heather recognised a group of female singers belting out a recent chart hit. The back-beat was incessant and the lyrics were inane. Heather winced.

William grinned, “I’m afraid Catherine does have pretty bad taste in music and I had to copy all her play lists onto my hardware so that she wouldn’t suspect that anything is up. But I’m not that interested in hearing what’s she’s hearing. I’m much more interested in making information flow the other way. Watch.”

Most of the display was taken up with the picture of the gym and of the girl on the treadmill, but down near the bottom there was an area of editable text. William clicked on it and started keying letters.

<Faster>.

On the screen, Christine reached up and adjusted the pace of the machine. Her legs began to pound against the rubberised surface.

“That was just coincidence,” Heather accused. “You’ve watched her routine and you knew that she was about to step up the intensity.”

“You think so?” said William.

He used the mouse to copy his previous command and paste it back into the edit box. Immediately, Christine’s hand dropped onto the accelerator lever. She was beginning to work quite hard now. Because the camera was positioned almost directly behind her, the two observers had a perfect view not only of her long legs and taught backside but also of her reflection from the front. Her small, shapely breasts, were obviously enclosed in a sports bra because there was hardly any oscillation even though Christine was now running quite fast. Her previously pale face was starting to look quite flushed.

William was typing again. His typing was fluid and precise. He never looked at the keyboard.

<Pick up the pace. It ought to feel quite hard now.>

The treadmill accelerated again. It was a high-performance machine, the kind preferred by serious athletes and it soon became apparent that, fit as she was, Christine was finding it tough to keep up the pace.

Heather said, “I didn’t hear any words.”

It had only occurred to her the third time William had given Christine an instruction. She could still hear the pop rhythm but the only sound in the room had been William’s fingers rattling over the keys.

“No, of course not,” said William. “That’s the whole point of doing things this way. The PC translates the keystrokes into verbal commands but the commands are used to modulate the shape of the music. None of it registers at a conscious level, it all goes straight subliminal.”

“You mean she does what you’re telling her but doesn’t know that she’s being told anything?”

“Got it in one,” said William. He typed some more instructions.

<Faster again Push it right to the max.>

“You know,” he added. “I think we’ve heard as much as we need of this crappy girl band, don’t you?”

He cut the sound part of the signal, from the other side of the closed door the sound of Christine labouring on the tread mill was clearly audible. The engine whined and her feet slammed down on the belt.

“The interesting thing,” said William , “And I don’t know if you noticed this in your lab work or not, but the effect of the neurochemicals is strongly enhanced by heightened respiration, heartbeat and body temperature. So making her work like this, which she thinks is just a regular part of her routine is actually making her much more susceptible to the control”

Christine’s breath was coming in hard, hungry gasps. To Heather, there was something disturbingly sensual about it. It was like the noises that she sometimes heard coming from her flatmate’s room as her flatmate’s boyfriend got seriously fuck her. Heather was surprised to discover that a trickle of perspiration was starting to form at the corner of her forehead. She tried to ignore her own unexpected response to the sight of a stranger being made to respond to someone else’s control and tried to bring a more analytic frame of mind to bear on the situation.

“You’ve not really proved anything yet,” she said. “You’ve shown me a girl—a rather cute girl as it happens—" (now where the hell had that come from?) “—working out and told me that you’re controlling her. But all she’s doing is working out. What she would be doing anyway. It’s not much of a demonstration.”

“Speaking as your friend,” said William, “I find your lack of faith a little distressing. But speaking as a scientist, I entirely approve of your scepticism and I will do my best to dispel it.”

He reached for the keyboard again.

<Your bra is getting uncomfortable. You’d really like to get shot of it.>

Christine’s arms agave up on their steady, swinging runners rhythm and reached in front of her and started tugging at the strap of her bra. When this did not succeed in alleviating her discomfort, her hands moved down to her breasts and started pushing them around. The way she was moving made it look as if she got a bee under her running top and was frantically trying to dislodge it. It greatly amused Heather to see this formerly cool and composed stranger behaving in this ridiculous way. She was evem more entertained when Christine started tugging at the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it up so that not only her flat, perfect belly but also the undersides of her breasts were revealed to the eye of the watching camera.

“It’s worth pointing out,” said William, “that, from what I have been able to observe of her character, Christine is quite a shy and modest individual. Even though she doesn’t know that she is being instructed and even though she thinks she is alone in the studio, she is still going to be feeling rather self-conscious about revealing herself in this way. The funny thing is that same embarrassment is going to feed back into her brain and make it more difficult to ignore the instructions she is being given.”

“You mean,” said Heather “The more embarrassed she is about what she is being told to do the harder it will be for her to keep herself from doing it.”

“Well, I hadn’t thought of putting it that way before but I guess that’s pretty much accurate.”

“Let’s try it out,” Heather suggested, a sudden eagerness creeping into her voice. “Tell her to take her top off.”

“Are you serious?” said William. He was trying to make it sound as if he was shocked, but Heather was sure she could hear an undercurrent of excitement in his voice.

“Damn right I’m serious. Get her to loose her top and her bra and then go for another run on the treadmill.”

William nodded and started to type instructions on the keyboard. Heather was surprised to see that Christine was slowing down the treadmill and within a few moments the machine had come to a stop.

“What’s happening?” she demanded. “Why have you got her to stop?”

“I can’t have her peeling of her clothes while running at that speed. The girl might have an accident and that wouldn’t do at all.”

“OK, but you are going to do it, aren’t you?”

“Sure I am,” said William. He peered closely at Heather. “You seem very eager all of a sudden. You getting hot at the idea of a pretty female taking off her clothes?”

“Of course not!” snapped Heather, indignant that he could even think of such a thing. “It’s just scientific curiosity. I want to see how far you can make her go.”

She was sure that was all it was. Positive. So why was the inside of her mouth dry and why was her chest feeling tight as she watched William start to type?

<You’re feeling far too hot. You need to cool down. Take off your top and your bra. Put them on the bench and then get back on the treadmill.>

Heather saw his fingers hovering over the return key and it felt as if he was teasing her.

“Go on,” she urged him. “Do it.”

“Just a minute.”

He moved the cursor back to the start of the command line and added the following words.

<Whatever else happens, you must take care not to dislodge your headphones. If the phones drop out you must replace them before anything else happens.>

Heather gave him a puzzled look.

“What’s that about?”

“Control is maintained through the sequence from the player. Even when it’s not receiving instructions, the player is still sending subliminal signals which ensure that Christine’s mind remains open and receptive. If the phones came loose, particularly while she was doing something that she would not normally do, the command interface would be broken and she would suddenly revert to her regular personality.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a form of mind control which only works so long as the subject is a pair of headphones on their head.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“It’s a bit of a limitation, isn’t it?”

“I’m working on it,” he said defensively. “Figuring out a more robust form of link is proving harder than I expected but I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. Anyway, I don’t think I’m doing so badly considering you thought the whole thing was impossible less than ten minutes ago.”

“Maybe it still is impossible,” she retorted. “You’ve not really proved anything yet.”

“Watch,” he said and depressed the return key.

Christine was standing by the side of the running machine with her hands resting on the tops of her thighs. She still looked flushed and slightly breathless from the effects of her forced exertions on the running track. She raised her head as if trying to catch a noise which she was not quite able, and then lifted her hands to the sides of her head. Heather though for a moment that the girl was about to remove her headphones, but in fact Christine was only ensuring that both earpieces were securely positioned and that there was no danger of them dropping. William adjusted the focus of the surveillance camera for a moment, bringing the zoom in close enough that Heather was able to see how the cable of the headphones disappeared into the neckline of Christine’s shirt.

Christine lowered her hands back towards her waist and looked around her. Heather could see that the captivated girl was still wearing that glazed and vacuous expression, but her face was no longer entirely empty. A hint of anxiety had crept into her eyes. She looked around nervously as trying to summon up the nerve to do something that she did not really want to do. Then, in one fluid movement she seized the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head.

Both William and Heather could see her looking frantically around as if wondering what on earth she was doing, but even while she was thinking this her hands were taking decisions for her. The bra was gone as swiftly as the shirt. Christine was standing in the middle of the studio with half her clothes in a pile on the floor at her feet.

William brought the camera back in again and Heather was fascinated to observe the mix of emotions on the girl’s face. Christine’s pale cheeks were flushing a vivid, brick-like red and her eyes were wide open as if she was shocked at her own behaviour. But there was another emotion mixed in there as well. Heather was sure she was not imagining it (and sure, as well, that she was not imposing her own feelings onto those of the subject.) In Christine’s hot, excited face, Heather was sure she could read the stirrings of arousal.

William was typing again.

“I’d best make her get back into work-out mode again. Don’t want to let her have to long just standing around; she might start wondering about exactly why she’s acting the way she is.”

Christine climbed back onto the treadmill and started the motor up again. There was a pattern of pale freckles across the backs of her shoulders and the muscles beneath them moved smoothly and sweetly as she got back into the rhythm of the exercise. The undulations at the front were even more interesting as her liberated breasts bounced and knocked against each other.

“I think I can see why you chose her for this little demonstration,” Heather muttered, with more than a hint of jealousy creeping into her voice.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” said William.

“Oh come on,” said Heather. “I’ve never been even slightly attracted to other women, but even I can see that this girl is totally gorgeous. You must really be getting a kick of seeing her like this and knowing that you’ve got her under your command.”

“The only pleasure I’m experiencing comes from satisfied scientific curiosity.”

“Crap!” said Heather. “I bet your cock is hard right now.”

“What!".

“I bet that looking at the girl jiggling her tits about for your pleasure has given you an erection. I bet it’s made your cock stand up in your trousers.”

“Rubbish!”

“It’s not rubbish,” she said, “And I can prove it.”

And before he could stop her, she reached out and unzipped the front of his fly and slipped her hand into the gap. The feel of warmth and hardness pressing up against the front of his boxer shorts was more than enough to indicate that her supposition had been correct, but Heather felt that the only way to really prove her case was to reach past the waistband of his undershorts and wrap her fingers around the flesh of his manhood.

“See,” she murmured, adjusting the grip of her fingers to ensure that as much of her skin as possible was in contact with his cock.

William grinned. “You have found my little secret.”

“Not so little,” she replied, starting to move her hand with a steady, rhythmic motion. To be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure what this was supposed to prove, but William seemed to be enjoying and, as it happened, Heather was also getting something out of it. In the past, whenever she had found herself jerking off one of her boyfriends she had always thought that the transaction was purely one way. She was the one giving pleasure and he was the one receiving it and that was the end of the matter. But now she could not help but admit that the sensation of touching William’s penis, sliding her fingers back and forth against the hot excited skin, was making her own body respond. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was the first time she had ever had the opportunity of giving a man pleasure while watching a half naked woman performing tricks at their behest.

She brought her lips up close to his ear and whispered rather breathlessly, “Go on, admit it! You’re enjoying this.”

He stuck his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair to allow Heather to obtain a more natural position from which she could masturbate him.

“OK,” he sighed. “I admit it.”

She kept on moving her hand.

“I think I know what would make it even more enjoyable,” she said.

“Oh yes. What?”

Heather hesitated for a moment. There was a delicious naughtiness in even thinking of the words which she was about to say, yet alone breathing them out loud. The fact that it was research which Heather herself had instigated which had resulted in Christine being put into this situation of enforced helplessness was having a profoundly stimulating effect. A part of her brain was distantly aware that she ought to be considering the consequences that a successful technique for controlling another person’s behaviour were going to have on the world. She ought to be considering the implications—political, economic, philosophical even. But as her breasts swelled underneath her thin summer blouse and traces of moisture began to seep into the flesh between her legs, she found that the only thing she could think of was how their newly acquired power was going to give her and William the opportunity to play loads more games like this. More games... and better ones.

She let her lips caress the edges of his ear for a moment and breathed softly, “You said that she was quite a shy self conscious girl...”

“Uh-huh.”

“So she’d probably be pretty flustered at the thought of someone else looking at her and seeing her half undressed.”

“That sounds quite likely to me.”

“So, suppose I was to walk in there, and see her cavorting around like that? Do you think that would—" she paused for a teasing moment—“affect her?”

William’s already broad grin widened until it looked as if it might split his face in two.

“That sounds like it might be highly entertaining,” he said. “The only problem is that I’m not sure if the fact of actually having another person right there in the room might not jolt her out of her trance.” He thought about the problem for a moment and then clicked his fingers excitedly.

“I’ve got it.”

Pausing only to remove her hand from his penis (she felt a small shiver of disappointment as he did so) he started typing again.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“I’m making a small alteration to her state of mind. I’m adjusting her mental wiring so that embarrassment and self-consciousness will act as triggers for increased sexual arousal.”

“So she won’t feel embarrassed any more?” asked Heather, feeling obscurely disappointed at the thought.

“No, no, being caught in a situation like this will still make her very hot and flustered. But it will also make her very turned on. And that will increase the effect of the chemicals sloshing around in her system and make it even more unlikely that she will be able to break free from the hold which we have established over her.”

Heather licked her suddenly dry lips. All at once she felt nervous, as if it was she as much as Christine who was about to put on a show. She jumped to her feet, deciding that she needed to act quickly before cold feet got the better of her.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

She pushed the door fully open and wave of the ambient music from the main speakers in the studio came in and washed over her. Immediately she felt more relaxed, more confident. More excited. This was going to be fun.

Heather stepped out onto the main floor of the studio and walked slowly and deliberately towards the girl on the treadmill. Christine was clearly caught up in her own world of motion and sensations and did not notice Heather until she was quite close. But when she did the results were remarkable. Christine’s face was already flushed as a result of her strenuous exercise, but when she caught side of Heather that fiery glow in her cheeks immediately rushed down her neck and onto the tops of her breasts. At the same time, Heather was rewarded with incontrovertible evidence that William’s adjustments were having the desired effect. Christine’s nipples, which previously had been small and inconspicuous, little more than circles of slightly darker pinkness against the curve of her breasts, sprung abruptly into alert, excited life.

Heather saw Christine lifting her hands to cover her embarrassment, and then saw her stop and put return them to their original position. It’s William who’s doing that, Heather thought. William has just given her an order, told her to not to hide herself from me. Christine’s hands ran down her smooth, taught belly and then disappeared into the waistband of her leggings. Her palms spread out flat against her moving thighs and through the sheer material Heather could see the girl’s fingers stretching and straining towards the join between her legs. Christine’s face as she performed these actions was an exhilarating mix of shock, mortification and arousal.

Poor girl, thought Heather. She must hardly be able to believe that she is acting this way. But at the same time she’s obviously far too turned on to stop. I wonder how she’s feeling.

“Are you enjoying yourself up there?” she asked.

She hadn’t been intending to speak out loud and for a moment she was worried that she might have broken Christine out of her trance. But it soon became apparent that this was not the case. Christine’s glazed, excited expression did not alter, although she did tilt her head slightly to make the existence of the headphones in her ears a little bit more obvious. It was clear that the music, along with the other sounds which she was subconsciously hearing, had locked Christine into a private world of her own. She was oblivious to anything which was being said in the world outside her own skull.

For some reason, that knowledge seemed to evoke a wicked streak in Heather. Raising her voice a little she remarked, “I always say that there’s nothing which beats a really good work-out. Except maybe for sucking cock.”

Still no reaction from Christine. She continued to pound on the treadmill and her breasts continued to wobble up and down.

Heather said, “You really do have the most beautiful tits. I’m so envious. I wish that mine were half so firm and taught as yours. They are so lovely. I wish that I could touch them.”

The words that she had spoken seemed to hang in the air. It was as if she had committed herself to something, signed an agreement from which there was no going back. I wish... I wish... But did she dare?

She glanced towards the camera on the far wall of the gym, glanced towards the still half open door which led into William’s cubbyhole. It was as if she was asking for his approval. No sign was seen or heard, but Heather was suddenly certain that her desire had been approved. William would allow her to do it. William wanted her to do it.

She adjusted her position slightly so that she was close enough to feel the heat coming off the straining girl. Then she raised her arm. Just before her skin connected with Christine’s, Heather stopped. A thought had just come into her head. Without pausing to evaluate it in any great detail she unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it off and hung it over the handle bars of the cycling machine which happened to be the next piece of equipment along. Then she took off her bra and dropped it on the floor. Her nipples were larger and darker that Christine’s but they were every bit as engorged with excitement. She ran the tip of one of her fingers around the vivid aureole, enjoying the spasm as sensation which shot right down from her breasts and into her cunt. Then she took her hand away from her own breast and placed it on Christine’s.

Christine gave a gasp. It might have been due to the girl’s exertions on the running machine, but Heather was practically certain that it wasn’t. She cupped her hand around Christine’s boob, enjoying the feel of the firm young flesh as it moved against her skin and especially relishing the feeling of the stiffened nipple as it slithered and slipped between her questing fingers. Christine lifted her hand as if she was intending to pluck Heather’s hand away from hers but instead of pulling it away she closed the palm of her hand over the back of Heather’s and pushed and squeezed it eagerly, encouraging the graduate researcher to tighten her grip on the undulating breast. Heather was happy to oblige, and as she did so Christine’s nipple became increasingly stiff and excited. Heather was really getting into this. What made it particularly enjoyable for her was the awareness that Christine’s volition had been taken out of the equation. As long as the headphones stayed on Heather would be free to do whatever she wanted and Christine would be unable to do anything to stop her. There was something extremely stimulating about that whole idea of dominance and submission and Heather found herself tweaking her own nipples with her left hand even as she continued to play with Christine’s with her right. With the parts of her brain which were not taking up with enjoying the raw sensations she wondered how the feelings that she was enjoying compared with what Christine was going through. Was it more exciting to be in charge of the pleasure you experienced? Or was the greatest satisfaction to be found from having your pleasure and sensations dictated by someone else?

Without any warning, Christine let go of Heather’s hand and reached out to kill the speed of the treadmill. With a few seconds the machine had slowed to a crawl and it was clear that Christine was about to get on. Without the sensation of movement and the sound of the whirring engine, Heather no longer felt comfortable about having her hand on Christine’s breast. Nor did she like the fact that she was standing topless in what was, for all intents and purposes a public place. She tried to think of some polite excuse which she could offer to Christine, some light little witticism which might serve to lighten the tension which she felt had grown up between them. But then she glanced at Christine’s vaccant face and remembered that the other girl was still entrapped, subject to William’s will. She didn’t need to say anything to Christine, she could just turn around and walk away, and that is precisely what she did.

It was only when she found herself back inside the cubical that she realised that she had left her blouse and bra behind. She did not have much time to worry about that, though, because as soon as she stepped through the door she saw something which quite drove the thought of her own nudity from her mind. William had loosened his trousers and taken out his prick. The impression she had had of its size and girth from wrapping her hands around had not remotely prepared her for what she was feeling now could see it with her own eyes.

“What—” she started and then had to stop and lick her lips. It was amazing how turned on she was feeling. “What’s got you into that state?”

Then she glanced at the monitor and figured she was seeing the answer. On the big LCD, in glorious hi-res, Christine was talking off her panties. They were every bit as small and insubtantial as she had previously suspected and Heather found herself wondering, “Is it really normal to wear underwear quite than insubstantial when you are going to work out?” But as soon as she had posed it, she found herself answering her own question. Yes, it was perfectly normal if you were being set up to work out in front of William. Christine had already divested herself of those semi-transparent leggings and Heather found that she was looking at the girl just as Christine was stepping out of that tiny sliver of fabric. Now the only item of material on her was the belt which fastened the music player to her waist. Apart from that, Christine was completely naked.

As soon as she had done this, William tapped the return key on the computer. This must have been the signal to send an instruction which had already typed into the command bar because Christine immediately stepped onto the mat and started to go into a series of bending and stretching exercises. A surprising number of these seemed to involve Christine either lying on her back and thrusting her pelvis up into the air or else spreading her legs wide open so that everything she had to offer was on view directly to the camera.

“The funny thing is,” said William. “I reckon there’s still part of her which is shocked and ashamed to find herself acting that way. Most of that side has been over-ridden by arousal but there’s still a bit of it left. I find that quite intriguing. Somehow the idea of taking a modest, respectable girl and turning her into a helplessly wanton exhibitionist is so much more intriguing than taking control of a girl who is naturally comfortable with her body and doesn’t mind sharing it around.”

“Actually,” said Heather, “You’re wrong. The funny thing is the way that you’re prepared to sit there with that enormous stiffy watching a girl on a TV screen while there’s a real life woan standing right besides you who’s prepared to help you to use it.”

William said, “The girl on the screen will do anything I tell her.”

Heather said, “I will also do anything you tell me to.”

For the first time since Christine had taken the last of her clothing off, William turned to look at her. His face was bathed in shadows but she could see his dark eyes glittering. “Do you mean that?” he asked softly.

“Absolutely. Why do you think I took my top off out there?”

“I don’t know. Why did you take your top off out there?”

“I wanted you to be looking at me instead of her.” More softly she told him, “I wanted you to be ordering me instead of her.”

She had not known that that was what she thought until she spoke the words, but as soon as she said them she knew they were the truest thing that she had ever said. While she had been out in the middle of the gym, playing with Christine, exposing herself in front of Christine, she had persuaded herself that her excitement was a result of being in command. But it wasn’t, it never had been. The real thrill had been imagining it could be her up on the treadmill instead of Christine, her being made to do things instead of Christine.

“Do you mean it?” said William.

“Yes,” said Heather. “Absolutely.”

“Take the rest of your clothes off.”

She did as she was told. Obeying his instructions gave her a thrill she had never known.

“Come here. Kneel down in front of me. Now, take my cock in your mouth. That’s good. Now, very slowly and gently I want you to suck me off. I want you to such my penis while I look at another woman with her clothes off.”

She was happy to do what he told her. She was happy to do whatever it was he told her.

“Are you enjoying that? he asked her after a while. “Is it getting you turned on?”

She did not want to take her lips away from his cock but managed to convey her ascent while continuing to slide her warm mouth up and down his shaft.

“That’s good,” he said, “Because looking at this monitor I’d say that Christine was feeling pretty turned on as well and I think there’s something you could do for one another. Something intimate.”

She realised what he was saying and took her mouth away from his prick. It was not easy to do, and she found herself giving the tip of it a long, slow lick as the contact finally broke.

“You want me to get intimate with Christine?”

“I want you to have sex with her. As full on and dirty as you can make it. Right there on the mat where I can see it.”

Heather sighed regretfully. There was a lot she was prepared to do in the name of an enjoyable fantasy but William would have to learn that there were limits to everything and he had just passed one of hers.

“Sorry, sweetie,” she said with a certain amount of regret. “It’s not going to happen. Nothing against Christine, but I’m just not into girls.”

“I know that,” he replied. “Didn’t I tell you that it’s much fun getting someone to do something they don’t think is part of their nature? Besides, once you get into it I believe you’ll find it’s a lot more enjoyable than you think. Christine really does have the most marvellously supple body and I’m sure the two of you will have a great deal of fun pushing one another’s buttons.”

“No we won’t,” said Heather, climbing to her feet. “Because it isn’t going to happen.”

“And before the two of you start fucking,” William continued, “I would like you to take Christine’s headphones off. I have a feeling that she isn’t going to need them any more.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You said yourself that the headphones were the key to keeping her under control. If you’re going to make up one of these crazy SF-type scenarios then the least you can do is to try and be consistent.”

“I did say that,” William admitted. “But it wasn’t entirely true. You see, Christine’s headphones are a mechanism for control, but they’re not the only mechanism. Can you guess what the other one is?”

He paused to let her think about this and as she did so the soft ambient music from the overhead speakers seemed to fill her ears, her mind, her soul.

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“I could be,” he told her. “If that is what you want. Listen, I owe you a favour. First, because you did the research which made this whole thing possible and, second, because you and Christine are shortly going to be doing an awful lot of very nice things to my cock. So I am going to give you a choice. You can believe that you are my helpless slave and that you are doing what you do simply because I tell you. Or you can be entirely ignorant of my command over you and believe that whatever happens is just part of the way that world always was, the way you always were.” He stopped and looked her straight in the eye.

“So what do you want to do?”

The first thing that Heather noticed when she entered the fitness studio was the music. So different from the background sound you usually got in gyms. It filled her mind, her soul, left her feeling exhilarated and tringling. Or was that just down the fact of her being here in this place like this?

She padded across the warm, sun-dappled floor, acutely aware of her own nudity, of the air against her breasts, her bottom, her aroused and liquid cunt. Through the shifting, sensuous patterns of the music she could hear the sounds of the world outside, ordinary students going about their ordinary business never guessing what was happening on the other side of the glass door just a few feet away from them. At any moment, any one of them could simply walk in. Could do, would do—if that was what the watcher decided that he wanted. She kept on touching herself. Running her fingers over the tips of her breasts, sliding them down into the wetness below. The sensations were amazing, like nothing she could have imagined. She padded towards the girl on the floor mat.

The girl was lovely. The girl was naked. She had obviously not been ready to wait for the formal start of the session. Her eyes were glazed and her face fiercely flushed. She had just completed a series of stretches which had left her legs wide. The sharp, pungent flavour of arousal was coming off her. Heather smiled. She wondered if there was still a part of Christine’s mind which was still shocked and embarrassed at finding herself in this situation, this state. Heather rather hoped so; it would make everything else which happened that little bit more fun.

“Hi,” she said. “Is it OK if I partner with you today?”

The girl on the mat look hesitant, uncertain. She glanced towards the far end of the gym, the place where the hidden camera was. And the watcher. It was as if she was asking for permission.

“It’s OK,” said Heather quickly. It’s what he wants us to do.”

The girl nodded as though that simple phrase explained everything. Which, in a way, it did.

“OK then, I guess. What does he want us to do?”

She really was gorgeous. Heather had an idea that what was going to happen next would not end with the end of the session. She would be taking this one home. Home to William and his big double bed. To his long, long list of instructions and duties and forfeits.

“Everything,” said Heather. She lowered herself onto the mat and, having taken care to ensure that the two of them were clearly visible in the floor length mirror in front of them, proceeded to take Christine in her arms.