The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So, is that supposed to hypnotize me?”

She set the metronome on the milk crate that served as their coffee table and steadied it. “No, you’re going to hypnotize you.” She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. “All hypnosis is self-hypnosis, Drew. The swinging watches and metronomes are just to keep you focused. Now sit! We’re gonna do this and you’ll be fine, trust me.”

He settled for sitting cross-legged across from her, his knees bumping against the milk crate and causing her cheap plastic metronome to topple over. “Sorry,” he offered.

She waved his apology away, then opened the metronome’s lid and adjusted the arm weight inside to what amounted to a nice, slow, hypnotic pace. Presumably it also matched up with a specific musical beat, but she’d never bothered to read up on it. For her, the little box had one purpose only. “Okay, keep your eyes focused here. Judy? Do you want to join in?”

The girl on the couch curled her arms around her knees and drew them to her chest, as if trying to shield herself from the metronome’s invisible hypno-beams. “No thanks. I’m just here to watch and learn.”

“Cool.” It was. She liked Judy a lot. Fun, confident, forever dressed in black, the one girl in the entire school who made the dreaded Freshman Fifteen look downright sexy. “Once Drew goes under, I’ll show you how to give a subject a post-hypnotic trigger, and then you can use it on him whenever you want.”

“Don’t you dare mess with my head like that,” Drew pouted.

Judy’s head appeared above her kneecaps. “You will take me to La Provence,” she droned, a smile on her pretty face. “You will pay for everything. You will not remember being hypnotized. You will dooooo as I commmaaaand.” She giggled. “I want to learn how to do this, too. Like, for real. Can you teach me?” She tapped Drew on the shoulder with her foot. “For school, I promise.”

“Uh huh.” Drew did not look convinced. “Don’t give her any ideas. She’s evil enough as it is.”

“I’m not giving anyone ideas.” The brunette set the metronome in motion, pleased to see Drew’s eyes lock onto the swinging arm almost immediately. They darted back and forth, soon slowing to match the slow tick tick in front of him. “Remember, all hypnosis is self hypnosis. All ideas are your ideas. Your mind is all your own. Your mind is focused entirely on the metronome, and on the sound of my voice. Focus on them, and nothing else. Take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out slowly. Ready? Breathe in.”

He took a deep breath, and held it in as instructed. When he exhaled, also as instructed, it came out slowly and carefully, just as she intended. “Okay,” he muttered, shifting his body weight. “Sorry, I want to get comfy.”

“That’s fine. Just relax. Everything is fine. Just concentrate on feeling relaxed and comfortable. You can move. Do whatever you need to do to become more and more relaxed. Taking deep breaths, Drew. Slow and deep. Slower, and deeper. So slow and relaxing. Time them to the metronome. In… hold… out… that’s it. Slowly. Let my words guide you. Just let yourself flow with the breathing. In… and out, so slowly. So relaxing. All of your cares and worries coming out with each slow breath.”

Behind him, Judy uncurled her legs and lay back against the couch. Her eyes drifted from her boyfriend to the metronome and it’s relentless swinging. In spite of its small size, the noise it created filled the room.

She kept her head pointed at Drew, but shifted her gaze until she was staring down at the girl on the couch. “You might start to feel a little tired. It’s so relaxing. My voice, soft and low, soft and sleepy. Eyes, so heavy when they’re tired. Closing, just a moment, sinking closed, just a little rest, whenever you’re tired. Blink. Closed. Open, but so tired. So sleepy. So relaxed.”

She had both of them now. Judy’s head sank with each tick. Drew opened his mouth to take another breath, exhaled, then forgot to close it again. He stared at the metronome, eyes blinking, shoulders drooping, still breathing slow and evenly as told. They were both proving to be excellent subjects. Even better, she was proving to be an excellent hypnotist. It seemed to get easier and faster each time. She let her voice drop to a low, husky drone, dulled and yet still enticingly lyrical, every word suggesting drowsiness, sleep, and trance.

“Surrender,” she said, and at that moment, Judy toppled over onto her right side, eyes shut. “That’s it. Sleep. Deep, deep sleep. Sleep. Eyes close. Sleep.”

Drew—the part of Drew that wasn’t a natural hypnotic subject—refused to go under quite as quickly. He would close his eyes and sag almost into trance, only to rally and puff out his chest, forcing himself back into something more closely resembling his original posture. A few whispered, sleepy words later and the cycle began all over again.

Don’t fight it, she wanted to say, but she knew enough not to. Negative commands would only help him to resist. Positive reinforcement, Sherwood. Grease the wheels.

“So easy to slip into trance, Drew. Just like the subjects we watched in Professor Atwood’s class. Dropping down, down, down. That’s it.”

She eyed Judy, who by now was mind-stilled enough to ignore everything around her. What she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know.

“It feels so good to surrender, Drew.” She leaned forward and steadied herself with one hand against the milk crate table. Her other hand reached around the edge of the crate and found Drew’s leg. “It feels so good. So hot and sexy to just give in. Surrender. Sleep. Give in to my voice. Surrender to my body. You want my body, Drew. So hot and sexy. Give in to my beautiful, sexy voice. My hot, sexy body. Sleep. Close your eyes. Surrender to me. Give yourself to me.”

Her hand drifted closer and closer to his growing bulge. “Being hypnotized turns you on, Drew. You want to be hypnotized. You need to be hypnotized. It’ll make us both so, so happy. So hot, and sexy. You want to sink into trance. On the count of three, you’ll feel so, so good. Deeply asleep, deeply relaxed.” Her index finger traced the edge of his zipper. “So wonderful, Drew. You’re going to sleep for me. One, so sleepy. Two, so hard for me, for my sexy, hypnotic voice.”

His eyes fluttered one last time, then slammed shut.

“Three. Sleep.”

“Uhnnn.” Down he went, slumping hard enough to send the metronome bouncing to the floor. A faint damp spot formed in the wake of her fingers. Not enough for an orgasm, certainly not enough to be noticed afterwards.

“Hee!” She let her hand linger on his crotch, trying to guesstimate just how big his cock was. Judy refused to talk about it. Then again… “Judy, can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” Soft and sweet. Even hypnotized, the girl was just darling. “Can hear.”

“In a second I’m going to ask you a few questions, and when you answer them truthfully, you’ll feel really good. Amazing, actually. The more honest you are, the more relaxed and comfortable you’ll feel. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yeah.” Her lips curled into a faint smile.

“Okay. So, first question. How good is Drew in bed?”

Judy shifted her position on the couch, her feet firmly planted against Drew’s slumped form. “Mmmm,” she purred, licking her lips. “He’s so good. He’s—”

“Hey!” Another voice, coming from behind them. Its tone was normal, even conversational, but in the quiet of the room it sounded like a cannon.

She tried turning, but her legs had gone numb during the session. The best she could manage was a clumsy half-roll and head turn, just enough to bring Cindy Costman into view. Crap.

“What the hell is going on in here?” The blonde clomped forward, her hard-soled boots thankfully muffled by Drew’s shag throw rug. She came to a sudden halt, presumably as she realized just what the hell was going on. “Oh. This shit again.”

“Shh,” the brunette hissed, annoyed. Very annoyed. “I just got them both under. You’ll snap them out of it.”

Even as she rolled her eyes, Cindy lowered her voice to a safe volume. “Is there anyone in our group you haven’t hypnotized this month? For fuck’s sake.”

“Atwood told me to practice,” she said, as if that were that. She pointed to the sleepy couple next to her. “I’m practicing!”

“Uh huh. Well, whatever. Good for you. I’ll come back later.”

“You sure?” She grinned. “I can have Judy make room for you on the couch. It’ll only take a few minutes. Tell you what, if I can’t hypnotize you, I’ll buy drinks the next time we go out.”

“FUCK…” Cindy turned red. Her hand darted to her mouth, muffling a trance-breaking shriek. She took a sharp breath. “Fuck no, Celeste! God, you are such a weirdo about this stuff! You’re probably going to go jill off to this in your room later, aren’t you?”

Celeste shrugged.

“Don’t… You know what? I don’t want to know. I had a question for Drew but it can wait. I’ll come back when you’re through hypnotizing his pants off.” She made a nasty face. “And hers. Seriously, like, get some help.”

The brunette struggled to her feet, unsuccessfully willing the pins and needles in her rubbery legs to die down. Cindy took two quick steps back as she found her balance, a move that amused Celeste. She’s afraid of me.

Maybe she should be.

“I… I’m just…” Cindy’s earlier bitchiness was gone now, replaced by fear masquerading as impatience. “I’m just going to go. Tell Drew I stopped by.”

“Cindy, wait! Freeze!”

The blonde stopped in mid-turn. She looked at Celeste, confused. “O.. okay?”

“Eyes so heavy, Cindy.” She closed the distance between them. “Only my voice. So tired and sleepy.”

“You…” the girl’s eyes were already glassy and distant. “You can’t hyp—”

“But I already have.”

Snap.

“Are you deeply hypnotized?”

At first, the redhead said nothing. Finally, a whisper escaped from her lips. “Yesssss.”

They were in Emily’s bedroom, having led the shuffling, entranced redhead to her bed before gently encouraging her to lie in it. To Mistress, she looked more like the apple-poisoned Snow White than a peacefully slumbering Sleeping Beauty. Only the gentle rising and falling of her chest gave any indication that she still belonged to the world of the living.

Stop that, she scolded herself. Stop thinking of her as a corpse. Emily’s not lost. We’re saving her.

“So deep. So very, very deep.” Celeste was perched on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side, body awkwardly turned at the waist so that she was overlooking Emily’s prone form. She placed her hands on Emily’s shoulders and began to massage them. “Deeper than ever before, deeper than anyone has ever taken you. And now, at the bottom of the stairs, you see another set of stairs that will take you even further down. Can you see those stairs?”

“Yessssss…” Emily’s eyes stirred behind tightly-closed lids. “I see.”

“Then take them, counting each one. There are one hundred more steps. Just one hundred more, and then you’ll be where you want to be. So deep, Emily.”

“One hundred. Ninety nine.”

“Good. You’re so wonderful, Emily. So relaxed. Deeply hypnotized. One gentle step at a time.”

“Ninety one. Ninety. Ninety… eighty nine. Eighty eight…”

Celeste moved her hands from Emily’s shoulders to her hair, idly running her fingers through the long red strands, brushing them flat before starting again. “Good girl. Keep counting.” She looked up at Mistress. “I haven’t hypnotized her since Germany. I was worried that I’d be rusty.”

“You’re never rusty,” said Mistress. She was sitting in Emily’s desk chair, supervising and approving of everything. “That was really good.”

The brunette beamed. “Thank you, Mistress. But still. See how quickly she dropped for me? She’s not exactly rusty, either. Someone’s been taking her into trance on a regular basis. I know it’s not Rebecca, and it’s not me.”

“So let’s find out who it is.” Mistress impulsively reached for Emily’s wrist, lifting her arm until it was pointing skyward. She let go, curious to see what would happen next. When Rebecca would put her roommate under, she would use Emily’s slowly sinking hand to lead her deeper into trance, having her imagine sinking gently along with it, until—

Plop. Emily’s arm came crashing back down, bouncing off her thigh before coming to rest, palm up, on the bed. The redhead let out a soft, short sigh. Her mouth closed again, and she fell still. Very still.

Mistress couldn’t recall Emily ever going this deep, and it frightened her. They were home now, for fuck’s sake. There was an entire ocean between themselves and Berlin, between freedom and slavery. They were supposed to be as safe here as the beachgoers on the sand were safe from Jaws. Emily was immune to Mistress Rebecca, and even Celeste’s triggers would soon fade from disuse, leaving her best friend to finish out her college days in blissful ignorance.

Just like Rebecca. You see how well that turned out.

But that was different, wasn’t it? That was done out of love, not for lust and greed and power.

Trance her. Drop her. Take her as deep as Emily. Then you’ll find out.

“Mistress? Are you okay?”

She looked into those wonderful hazel eyes. So compassionate and caring. So full of love. Celeste knew what she was doing. She’d brought this whole thing to her attention, raised her from the depths of Rebecca’s mind for just this purpose.

The mind-blowing sex had just been a side-effect, right?

“Mistress?”

She blinked, pretending to be spaced-out instead of tortured by unanswerable doubts. “I, um… yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Yeah. You’re right, slave. She’s really deep. I guess that’s good, though? It means no one has left in any mental blocks to keep us out.”

“We’re not supposed to know anything,” Celeste noted. “For all Alice knows, we’re all lah-dee-dah-ing our way through college with not clue that mind control is a real thing. Why lock a door when no one knows what stealing is?”

“That’s if it’s Alice. I still don’t trust Edwin and Amanda. Unless Alice broke her promise, they’re still out there, and they had Emily for a long time.” She allowed herself a chuckle. “And they’re not the sharpest tools in the shed.”

That got Celeste giggling as well, and she fell forward until her hair washed over the top of her head. “I… fuck, Mistress, I shouldn’t laugh. They got me, too. You’re the only one smart enough to stay clear.” She straightened and brushed her hair back into place, suddenly serious. “So Emily will listen to me, but not Rebecca. If you want to ask questions I’ll have to translate for you.”

“No, wait. I just got an idea. Fucking Amanda! Remember what she did to you?”

The brunette frowned. “Kind of.”

“Tell Emily that when she hears my voice, she will hear it as your voice, and that she’ll obey it without question.” She ran the idea through her mind one more time. “I don’t know what exactly Amanda told you, but that’s how she was able to break you. She made you think you were obeying me.”

“I’m scared, Mistress. What if I totally screw up reality for her? Like, she wakes up and can’t tell one voice from another ever again?”

Mistress placed her hand on the brunette’s knee, smoothing out a wrinkle in her jeans. It was more to calm her own butterflies than to deal with Celeste’s, but it seemed to work all the same. “I trust you. Rebecca’s not a basket case, and you hypnotized her plenty of times.”

“But…”

“Do it,” she said, sternly enough to make the butterflies swarm all over again. Celeste was supposed to be a willing slave, not a mindless one.

Pfft. A Mistress doesn’t ask. A Mistress commands.

She compromised. “It’ll be okay,” she promised. “But do it now.”

Celeste didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Mistress. Em? I’m touching your knee again, and you can hear my voice. Only my voice. Speaking directly to your sleepy mind. Your deeply hypnotized subconscious. Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” At this depth of trance, all of the slurred words disappeared. Emily’s speech was short and direct, confident in a mindless sort of way.

“Good. There is only my voice, Emily. Whenever you hear words being spoken to you, while you’re in this apartment, while you’re deep in this wonderful trance, it will be my words that you hear. Remember, you only hear my words. Who’s speaking to you right now?”

“You are.”

“And who am I?”

“Celeste.”

She leaned in close and whispered into Mistress’s ear. “Okay, try it.”

Mistress crossed her arms. “Emily, who is speaking to you right now?”

“Celeste.”

She nodded, trying and failing to hide a triumphant smile from spreading across her face. I can do this. I’m better than everyone else.

That thought—it hadn’t crossed her mind since Berlin—seemed to energize her, and she launched into the next phase of their plan. “Your mind is completely open to me, Em. You have no thoughts. No will. No resistance. There’s not a single secret in your head, because our minds and our thoughts are one and the same. Do you understand? One and the same.”

“Yes. One and the same.”

“Perfect. Now lift your head and open your eyes. Look into my eyes.”

The redhead did as she was told, turning her empty gaze towards Celeste. It surprised Mistress, until she remembered the command. Shit, will she freak out if I’m speaking and Celeste’s mouth isn’t moving?

“Looking into my hypnotic eyes,” she said. The redhead didn’t seem to be bothered by the ventriloquist act. “Our minds, wills, thoughts, and souls are one. What are we, Emily?”

“One.”

“No secrets in your mind. Has anyone hypnotized you recently?”

“Yes,” Emily responded. Mistress breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

“Looking into my eyes,” said Celeste. “Tell me who hypnotized you. You can remember every last detail.”

“Edwin.”

Mistress leaned over, preparing to whisper an ‘I told you so’ into her lover’s ear.

“And then Alice.”

Jab. Celeste’s finger pressed deep into Mistress’s arm. The brunette stuck out her tongue. Told you, she mouthed.

But Mistress was too confused to respond. She stared at the sleepy redhead, trying to think of what to ask next. “Wait. Edwin hypnotized you and then Alice hypnotized you?”

“Yes, Celeste.”

“You’re gonna have to explain how that works, Emily.” Celeste glanced around the room. “I feel like I should be taking notes or something.”

“I don’t think we’re about to forget anything we’re about to hear. Emily, how did Edwin hypnotize you? Did he call you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want you to go back in your mind to when he last called you. You’re a time traveler, watching yourself in the past. The phone is ringing, Emily.”

Wordlessly, Emily began to pat the covers around her, head cocked sideways, listening for a ringtone only she could hear. Her arms rose to push up an invisible blanket that seemed to cover her, and she squirmed and twisted until her fist closed around the imagined phone. She brought the fist to her face and studied it, puzzled. “Hi, this is Emily!”

“You can hear the voice on the phone, Em. You can hear what you say, and what it says. Tell me what you hear.”

“It’s saying ‘Sleeping Beauty wakes up.’”

Mistress and Celeste exchanged knowing glances. “What happens when you hear those words?” asked Celeste.

“When I hear the words, I will sleep. I will obey. I will do as I am told.”

“Do you do that now?”

“Yes. I must listen and obey. Always obey.”

As her two hypnotists watched with wide eyes and open mouths, Emily rattled off the next minutes of her life like a movie script. “I awaken and obey. Are you alone Emily. Yes I am alone. Give me an update.” Each sentence was delivered without pause or emotion. “I have saved six hundred and ten dollars. I obeyed my commands and told everyone that I am planning a trip to Australia.”

“Freeze, Emily.” Mistress bent down and tapped the hypnotized girl on her knee.

“I told you,” said Celeste. Her voice matched Emily’s flat tone. “I knew it. Rebecca was so fucking upset, too. Dammit. That asshole, that fucking…”

“Shh. It’s okay. I just need you to be prepared, slave. Because we’re about to open some doors and I don’t know what we’re going to find.” She shook her head. “We might find out that Alice or Edwin or… fuck, even Emily has been fucking with our heads, too.” She took Celeste by the hand. “Whatever we find out next, we can handle it, okay? The both of us, together. Always.”

A smile. A beautiful, earnest, brave smile. “I trust you.”

Celeste tapped Emily. She crossed and uncrossed her fingers. “Unfreeze, Emily. Continue from where you stopped.”

Hot air brushed past Mistress’s ear. Celeste drew closer, enough to plant a soft kiss on her neck, or to gently nuzzle against her like a happy kitten. It was the kind of cute girlfriend thing that always set her loins on fire. But not this time.

“Holy shit,” her slave whispered. “What do we do?”

Emily lay sprawled out on the bed, one hand draped across her stomach, the other thoroughly engaged in pleasuring herself. What Mistress found most disturbing was that the redhead didn’t seem to react. No matter how quickly her finger slid between her wet, red lips, her face remained blank and devoid of emotion, like a masturbating robot switched on and then forgotten by its owner.

But Emily’s owner hadn’t forgotten at her at all. The words coming out of her mouth made that very clear. “Obeying Alice is all that matters. Obeying Alice is my only purpose. I will listen, and obey. I will hear, and obey. I will—”

Another puff of warm air. “Fucking brainwashing. She’s right back to where she started.”

“I know,” Rebecca whispered back. “We’re probably making it worse.” She placed her hand over Emily’s panties, trying to slow the hand inside them. Memories of having her own hand in that same spot quickly rose to the surface; she angrily pushed them back down again. “Emily, you’ve finished speaking to Alice. The call is over. What happens next?”

“When I hang up the phone, I will awaken. I will remember nothing. I will obey. I…” Life flowed back into her body, animating her face even through her deep trance. “I look around. Roger’s getting out of the shower.” She licked her lips. “I’m going to surprise him.”

THUMP

“What the fuck was that?” Celeste blurted out, whispers momentarily forgotten. Thankfully, Emily didn’t notice; the redhead was too busy pulling off her t-shirt and reaching for her bra.

“Someone’s at the door,” said Mistress. She freed Emily’s shirt from her messy, tangled hair and touched her forehead. “Emily, fall into a deep sleep for me. A deep, dreamless sleep. Until I touch your forehead again, deeply asleep.”

“Nnnn.” Emily tried to frown, but the command caught up to her, and her face smoothed out into peaceful slumber.

More banging noises followed from the living room. Two clomps one after the other, likely shoes hitting the floor. The telltale jingle of keys. Finally, a voice. “Hey babe! I’m back! You home?”

“Roger,” Celeste mouthed. Her eyes widened. “Shit!”

They froze, uncertain of what to do next. Some reptilian part of Mistress’s brain, deeper than even Rebecca, ordered her to stay low. She obeyed, dropping her head and shoulders and crossing her arms. “We can’t let him see her like this,” she whispered.

Celeste, too, was a victim of her own lizard brain. She crouched as well, lowering her head until it was level with her Mistress. “Do we wake her up?”

“I don’t want to. We just got her to where we want her to be. And if she talks to Alice before we can get her under again, it’s going to mess everything up.”

“Babe?” Roger’s voice grew louder. “Are you sleeping?”

“Shit shit shit!” Celeste wrapped her arms around her Mistress and squeezed. “Fuck!”

“Shhh.” Mistress tried to project a calmness she didn’t have. It seemed to work for the moment, as the brunette’s grip eased, and her cursing melted into a low, unhappy whimper. “Shhh.”

A thud, followed by a clunk and another bang. From beyond the door came the unmistakable sound of pee splashing into a toilet.

Mistress’s hand fell, instinctively, to her right-hand pocket. But there was no pendant inside, not anymore. Rebecca was an ex-hypnotist now. But if Roger came into the bedroom—and he was bound to come into the bedroom, any moment now—they’d have to deal with him somehow. Emily was probably too deep in trance to act convincingly awake.

“Celeste,” she said. She had an idea.

“God, he pees like a racehorse.”

“Celeste!”

“Oh! Sorry. Yes, Mistress. What can I do?”

Mistress reached up and patted Celeste’s hand. “What you do best, slave. Are your shoes by the front door?”

“Yes, Mistress. What are you thinking?”

She smiled. “I saw this in a TV show once.”

Roger flushed the toilet and watched it empty and refill. A weird habit, maybe, but one he found oddly soothing. A sign that at least one part of their world was still running smoothly. Pee goes away, fresh water to replace it. Emily didn’t share his enthusiasm for municipal plumbing, but then again, Emily didn’t need little things to keep her happy. She was a self-sustaining dynamo of enthusiasm.

A dynamo who seemed to be missing in action at the moment.

He washed and dried his hands, hanging the towel back on its rack, all the while expecting to be grabbed from behind by his girlfriend. When she didn’t, he looked into the mirror and made a sour face. “It’s not fair that you get to sleep in while I’m slaving away in class!”

Still nothing. He realized that he’d probably been alone this entire time, that Emily had gone to grab coffee or visit Rebecca. The face in the mirror reddened. “Either that, or she’s out cold,” he told himself.

Clunk. A thud, coming from the living room. The sound of the front door closing. She had gone out, after all. He opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, expecting to see—

“Celeste?”

“Oh! Hey!” The pretty brunette stood next to the door, wiggling her hips as she removed her one remaining shoe with her bare foot. She bent over and moved the discarded footwear to the side of the door, giving Roger a great view of her very nice ass. “Hi, Roger!”

“Hi.” He allowed himself one more second of innocent ogling before forcing himself to look elsewhere. I’m an admirer of the female form, not a creep. “Have you seen Emily? Is she out with Rebecca?”

“Yeah, they went to get something to eat.” She stood and turned to face him. “I just came by to drop off a new set of keys to our place. Landlord had to change all the building door locks.”

“Aw, thanks!” He stepped forward, a big smile on his face. He liked Rebecca’s new girlfriend a lot. Cute, kind, and always looking out for other people. Emily absolutely adored her. “You even got a keychain for it! Very cool!”

“I got this in Berlin. It’s kind of related to how Rebecca and I met.” She held up the pair of keys and gave the little crystal keychain hanging from it a spin, making it look like a tiny disco ball. “Kind of a cool story, really.”

“Yeah?” It really did look like a tiny disco ball. It seemed to reflect more light than it was taking in. Battery powered? Do they make battery-powered keychains?

“So it was a morning just like this, and I was really tired. Really, really sleepy. I felt like I could fall asleep standing up. Just slip into a deep, deep sleep.”

“Hmm.” Tired. He was tired. He’d been up since before dawn, and the lectures were always so dull. it was—

“So hard to stay awake. And then Rebecca held up this really beautiful pendant, a little like this keychain, so sparkly and pretty.” The brunette gave the disco ball another twist, and it exploded in a shower of white, glittery light. “It was so beautiful. So relaxing to look at. It made me feel so peaceful and safe, Roger, just by looking into it. Peaceful and warm and relaxed. And I was so, so tired. My eyes got so, so heavy, but I had to keep watching…”

“Yeah…” What was she saying? Something about watching. It was so hard to watch. All he wanted to do was curl up under the covers and fall asleep. Sleep. Just close his eyes… just close my eyes and sleep…

“Close your eyes and sleep. Sleep. It’ll feel so good.”

His head feel to his chest and he slumped forward, arms dangling limply by his sides.

Celeste palmed her keychain and smiled. “Good boy. It feels so good to surrender…”

“You’re back.”

Edwin gave his hypnotized pawn a gentle push, moving her clear of the front door as he closed it behind them. “We’re back. Did we miss anything?”

His wife was stretched out on the sofa, buried up to her chin in blankets. A bookmarked paperback and an empty bottle of wine nearby told him everything he needed to know about how her day had gone. He thought about taking the blonde by the hand and leading her directly to the bedroom. It wouldn’t be the first time. I have to train her, he’d explain, and what could Mandy say in return? Using him to prime the girls for slavery had been her idea, not his.

And Sandra was so, so fuckable. A natural talent at everything she tried, easily capable of making a comfortable living as a model or a porn star. Instead, her modest future would be supplemented by nights she’d never remember and by piles of money she’d gladly hand over to Amanda. And, judging by today’s outing, interrupted on occasion by other, less pleasant assignments.

“A barrage of business calls. A nap. Half a bottle of Riesling.” She shifted her position beneath the mountain covering her. “It’s getting chilly again. Did your pet enjoy her walk?”

He shrugged off his jacket and carried it with him into the living room, draping it across the back of a chair before sitting down. Sandra remained exactly where he left her, leaning against a wall, her eyes seeing but not registering the spotless kitchen in front of her.

Spotless thanks to her, not to you, Mandy. “Flawless today. Absolutely flawless, Mandy. She’s passing every test I can throw at her. No questions, no resistance, no hesitation.”

“Mmm hmm.” She gave the girl a once-over. “Did you buy her that catsuit?”

She sounded almost bored with it all. Maybe she was. He rarely talked about anything else these days. A twinge of guilt poked at his insides. Be a husband for once, Edwin! Touch her! Hold her hand, you idiot! Ask her about—

“Y… your day,” he said. “How was it? Your day. I’m sorry, Mandy. I’m ignoring you.” His hand made it halfway across the gap between them, then froze in mid-stretch. He couldn’t. He just… couldn’t. Like a stove burner, his wife had burned that outstretched hand more than once. Nights where she shrank from his touch. Days where she retreated to her balcony perch. The hand returned to his lap. “Did you get the money from Alisa?”

“Three cash deliveries. A parade of girls coming in and out today. I felt like a bowl of sugar at a picnic.” She yawned. “Oh, hmm, and nothing on the Russians. Gunther’s useless these days. I tranced that slutty bitch he likes so much and wiped her memory of him.”

“With this drug, I’ll never need that stupid screen ever again. They can drug their friends, program them, send them out to collect even more girls… it’s exponential growth. We’ll have every beautiful woman in town before the year is out!”

Normally, this would be the part of the conversation where Amanda would grow bored, or dismissive, or angry. Sometimes, it would be all three at once. Instead, her face softened. She looked almost sad.

“Edwin,” she began.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. The guilty pangs returned.

“No, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been hard on you lately.” Her eyes were full of compassion. “You’re trying to keep us afloat, and all I’ve done all year is act like an anchor. “No more. I’m fully on board, okay? With all of this.”

“Really?”

“Really. Today got me thinking about how much of a cunt I’ve been to you lately.”

“Well, that’s…” For the first time in a very long time, he was struck by how beautiful she was. Maybe it was the soft, kind face, so unlike the hard and cold Mandy he’d come to know over the years. This Amanda was more like the coed he’d spotted in the front row of the lecture hall, long hair and a winning smile, hypnotic eyes that pulled him to her from across the room. “Do you want me to make dinner? Sandra’s an excellent cook now. I had her spend a day absorbing cookbooks.”

“When are you going to turn her keys over to me? There’s a few wealthy Russians in town who could make us very wealthy, with a girl like that on their arms.”

“Maybe…” Shit. He was about to say something very stupid. Something best left unsaid. But those eyes, that face… “you can have her soon, Mandy. I’m trying to line up another subject from overseas. Highly suggestible, beautiful… I just need to get her here. I want to make it look like she wants to come here on her own accord. So, probably in another month or so?”

“Mmm. You and your hot girls.” She peeled off the top blanket, then the one below that, a Russian nesting doll popping out of its many shells. “A shame you’ve been ignoring the one right in front of you.”

Another blanket, then a thin blue sheet, and then… “Whoa, Mandy! You…”

“While you’ve been out playing,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “I’ve been going to the gym downstairs. And shopping for this. It’s been ages since I’ve worn a leather bustier. It feels so, so good.” Her fingers danced along the edge of her waist, picking at the hem, slipping down to circle her belly button. “Not the red one, but I like it. I had Alisa buy it and bring it over. Do you like it as much as I do?”

“Wow, Mandy.” She had been working out. “How…” his brain struggled to make words. “How long have you been planning this?” The thought of it made him laugh out loud. All this time, I knew something was up, but… goddamn, Mandy! “Y—you look great. Really. More than great.”

“Do I look better than her, Edwin?” She slid from the sofa and onto the floor, a graceful cat on the prowl, coming to rest on her hands and knees. “I was her, once upon a time. Do you remember how I used to beg you for it? I miss those days, Eddie-win.” She reached the chair and placed her head in his lap, her eyes lighting up as they spied his growing erection. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He fumbled with his belt, nearly hitting Mandy in the face with the loose end in his haste to remove it. She laughed, grabbing the buckle and tugging until it finally came free. His pants soon followed. “S… Sandra,” he panted, hoping his voice was loud enough for her to hear. “Gather your… oh fuck… gather your things and… and… go.” Oh fuck oh fuck Mandy your lips that feels so good.

“Yes, Master.” Her dull, empty voice seemed so out of place in the middle of all of this. From his chair he could hear her open the hall closet.

“Mmmm.” Mandy kissed the tip of his cock and looked up. “Make her stay. Make her ours, Edwin. Our toy. You’ve been fucking her, haven’t you?”

“It’s… you know how it is, Mandy. Part of their training.”

“Yes but…” Her hands worked his cock back to fullness. “You wanted to fuck her. And if you want her that bad… I want her, too. Make her stay. Order her to stay. Put her under our control. I have some ideas about what she can do for us.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes. “To us?”

“Exactly. You know what to do.”

“Sandra.” He tried to project calmness and authority. It was a losing battle, and he surrendered quickly. “Lis… listen and obey. You will now go into the bedroom and remove all of your clothes. You will await further orders. Go. O… oh fuck, Man… o… bey!”

“Yes, Master.”

She walked past them, winter coat and all, and disappeared into the bedroom. By then, Edwin was barely aware of her existence.

“I wish I could keep you like this, Em.” She reached for Emily’s forehead, then drew her hand back. “Just… let you sleep. Keep you safe from Alice and everyone like her.”

Like me.

“Stop. That’s not true. Not anymore.”

She paused, turning her ear towards the bedroom door. Whatever Celeste was saying to poor Roger, it was being delivered at a volume too low for Mistress to pick up. Go gentle on him, slave. He didn’t ask for any of this.

She shook her head. Celeste was a good slave. Roger was in good hands. “He’s lucky you’re out cold, huh? Otherwise you’d have him clicking like a chicken. Or an emu.”

The redhead said nothing, of course. Mistress reached in again, then drew back for a second time. “Before… this is dumb, because you can’t hear me. Maybe it’s better that you can’t. Maybe it’s better that Celeste can’t, either. Because a part of me right now is screaming at me to brainwash the shit out of you, Em. To mold you into a perfect slavegirl. Basically what Alice wants, but with me pulling the strings instead.”

She watched Emily’s chest rise and fall. How many times did Rebecca catch herself staring at those tits? How many times did she cup them in her greedy hands, in their dorm, in Berlin? They were hers for the taking, now. All she had to do was play Amanda’s game again, and have Emily hear her voice as Alice’s.

Just a few words. That’s all it would take. A few minutes. Celeste wouldn’t mind. Celeste couldn’t mind.

But Rebecca would.

“So… yeah. I wanted to admit that, Em. It’s the truth. Honestly, a part of me wants to brainwash every hot girl in this town, one at a time. That’s what…” she sighed. This part was hard to admit. “It’s what Celeste made me. A nicer Alice, I guess. But, Rebecca’s not Alice. And I know she promised to never mess with your head again. And I also know that I’m about to break that promise, and I wanted you to know that I’m really sorry. I’m not doing this for me, I swear.”

She took a deep breath, held it in, and let it out slowly, wishing for all the world that Celeste would walk into the bedroom at that very moment to snap her back into hibernation, to wake up Rebecca, to let Rebecca deal with this whole awful clusterfuck on her own.

“No,” she said, more to herself than to her hypnotized best friend. “This all ends today, Em. I mean it this time. No more triggers. No more hidden commands. No more of this bullshit where we free you but we don’t, really, because we keep some words in your brain to drop you whenever we want. Like giving up drinking but leaving bottles stashed in the houseplants, you know? It all comes out today. I can fix this.”

I can do better than fix it. I’m different. I’m better.

Rebecca didn’t believe that. Not deep down inside where it counted, anyway. Mistress had no such doubts. She could fix this. She would fix this. And then some. She pressed a finger against Emily’s warm, soft skin. “Listen and obey, Emily.”

“Slave? Did you… oh. Oh, you’re evil.”

“What?” Celeste laced her fingers together and placed them behind her head. “I was hungry!”

Roger—poor, entranced Roger—slid back and forth between sink, stovetop, refrigerator, and countertop, completely engrossed in making something that smelled absolutely heavenly. Whatever it was, it included bacon. Lots of bacon. “You could have just had cereal, you know.”

“Yeah, but Emily told me he was a really good cook, and we had time to kill…” Her smile faded. “Did, um, you know. What happened?”

She dropped onto the couch and stretched, wiggling her toes and feet. “I sat in one place for way too long, for starters. But it’s done. I think. No guarantees. We’ll never be sure if Alice stashed some hidden backup trigger in some back corner of her brain.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “What is he making?”

“Eggs Benedict, and some kind of bacon-ranch dressing salad thing. Oh, and fruit, but I chopped up the fruit. I’m not a total monster.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress. So, Emily’s all fixed now?”

“Better than that. I did much better than that.”

“Well hello, dearie! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon! I assume you’ve got something good to report, then?”

The sunlight drifting through the window curled into familiar words. “Yes. I will always obey Alice.”