The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Valerie Caldwell woke up in her bed. And it was a large bed; wide enough to classify as a King, layered in so many blankets and pillows that it felt like waking up in a cloud of pure luxury; everything around was soft, and softly touching her. Everything was warm. It was so pleasant that Valerie didn’t feel the need to open her eyes at all. She was contented to lie there, in softness and warmth, with her eyes still resting closed. If anyone had been observing her, unless they were tracking her breathing very closely, they wouldn’t have been able to tell that Valerie was awake at all.

But she was; everything in her wanted to extend, wanted to give a very catlike stretch.

Wanted to stretch her body outwards, and make feline-similar sounds; she was happy, she was warm, she was swaddled. It felt so good to be her, right now.

She was still Valerie Caldwell now, and she knew that. But she knew she was different than she had been, too. And that also felt good; she had been a heroine once, in the city’s league of heroes. She was a heroine no longer; inside herself, she could feel how total the truth of this was. She was a villain; she was no good thing, she would conspire to selfishly serve her own ends, no matter the cost and no matter who was hurt, what they wanted, or what they thought about anything. Valerie would be remorseless.

Her own ends above everything else. And because she had been so deeply indoctrinated, her ends weren’t really her own; they were whatever her Mistress wanted them to be; whatever her Mistress wanted, full stop.

Valerie could know this. She could know and understand how her brain had been changed; how her former personality had been erased forever and been replaced by what was now lying here. Someone who would betray. Someone who would do evil and think it was good; someone for whom evil didn’t exist, because it had just become what was necessary, and what was admirable, in Valerie’s view. She would turn against all who trusted her; she would carry out her agenda (really Mistress’ agenda) at every opportunity. This was her.

Valerie smiled to think of pleasing her Mistress now; smiled to think of all the things she could do to prove herself, prove her devotion. There was so much evil to be done, and that was good. She would happily carry out her villainy. She was still Valerie Caldwell, but she was the opposite of everything she had once stood for. And this only made her feel warmer inside; she was so lucky to have been changed, she was so lucky to have been turned into a villain. She was never going to stop appreciating this; she would never move past the joy she felt about this. She knew who she was, and how she’d been before. All of it only made Valerie feel gladder.

But for now, she was still lying in her bed, her eyes shut. There was a full day ahead of her, and so much that could happen in it; she decided she would go for that stretch now, and actually shift towards coming to full wakefulness.

She pointed her feet, stretching her legs down as far as she could; she arched her back high, at the same time, and put her arms out, outstretching her hands, feeling her fingers naturally curling into a clawlike form. The bed was so big that neither her hands nor her feet ever got past the mattress she was on, though she was straining herself as far as she could move. Her hands never found the headboard as they stretched.

Her feet never found the unsupported open air.

She kept stretching, forcing her body up in the air a little further; the blankets draped off her as she gave them a summit to descend from. She could feel the stretch in every muscle, and she felt a sound of contentment vibrating in her chest. She opened her mouth and let that sound be louder; it audibly came out into the room, and Valerie forced her body to curl a little more. She could feel tension ripping at every part of her. As if, with a little more extension, it would tear her completely apart. One more resonance of that sound of contentment; then she let all her muscles go slack in the very same moment.

And then her entire body flopped back into the bed.

After all that tension and extension, the bed somehow felt softer now. It seemed to curve around every part of her that rested against it; and the blankets settled heavy on her; the pile of pillows somewhere slightly past her head and overlooking her. The mattress itself was soft enough to feel like a pillow under her head, anyway. That soft, but with an underlining firmity that felt so good against her back.

Valerie sighed. She knew she would have to actively get up soon; but if she could lie where she was lying so comfortably, for a just a few more minutes, she felt she would be more ready for the day awaiting her.

She opened her eyes; and looked up at the ceiling; the room around her was, for now, decorated in neutral tones; variations on beige and pale white, with tall windows that cast sunlight in. God. She really had been a heroine once, hadn’t she? All obsessed with goodness, and obsessed with light so literally she’d chosen to flood all her rooms with it, and make all her tones reflect it. She couldn’t wait for that to be changed. It was annoying her slightly, as she saw it around her now. She was half tempted to close her eyes again, just so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. But it had taken her a while to get here. She didn’t want to reverse her journey.

She was finally ready to roll over onto her side. Not quite ready to sit up and leave, but ready indeed to turn.

And when she turned, she remembered she had not gone to bed alone last night. She never went to bed alone on any night. She had a lover now: and her lover was here with her, lying close to her, even in such a large bed. Her lover could have migrated away, to the far other end of the bed, but she was just lain alongside her; a slight movement of Valerie’s hand away. Her lover Lioness. Valerie let herself look at the still sleeping villain; Lioness had been complicit in Valerie’s own conquest. Valerie only wanted to thank her for that.

She was thinking more of last night, now. She and Lioness had embraced; they had kissed, they had humped on the bed; they had pressed their pussies together, and their kisses had gotten sloppier. They had pressed their tits together, and their kisses had gotten sloppier, and they had ground and ground against each other, and kissed harder.

Valerie could feel her body waking up to the memory; Lioness was a good lover. They had reversed positions, each one opposing the other, head to crotch twice over, and they’d both started licking as they’d been licked; fitting fingers inside as they were fit. It had been good love; if Valerie had never become a villain, if Lioness hadn’t either, they wouldn’t have had love like that.

It wouldn’t have come out as such base, desperate, craving sex. It would have been touched with that annoying purity and light that goodness and heroism seemed to insist upon. It was yet another reason to be grateful for villainy; it was a lot more fun all the time, but especially under the sheets. Maybe if Valerie woke Lioness up— maybe there would be time for a little more fun before they had to get up and go do the work of the day— she was reaching out for Lioness that short distance of space between them. She’d set a hand on her to shake her awake.

She did look attractive as she was lying there— Valerie was hoping there would be some funtime now.

But before Valerie could reach her, Lioness’ eyes opened. And Lioness’ face turned to look at her. The smile that slowly spread across it was mischievous; and a bit feline in nature too. So Valerie returned the smile: because feline affinity came naturally to her now too; the two smiled at each other a moment, and then Lioness moved forward, wrapping her body around Valerie’s as Valerie wrapped her body under hers. And the two of them began kissing slowly, closing their eyes again, this time not in sleep, this time closing into the kiss. They kissed as though they had hours, slowly pulling their mouths apart and setting them back together; their tongues lightly brushed within, and they held each other even more tightly.

Sex hadn’t been the only thing that Valerie and the Lioness had done the night before. They had had plans, and they’d carried them out; Valerie’s mind drifted back to these, now. Yesterday was like today; last night was like right now. There had been a plan and it had been executed. When Valerie and Lioness finally made it out of the bed, there would be a plan waiting for them, and they would carry it out, of course, once they were getting on with their day.

But last night there had been a plan too, and that plan was now completed. What Valerie and Lioness had had to do then, because they’d been told by their Mistress, was to use the gas bomb they had.

They had gotten it from her of course, and she had been the reason they wanted to use it. Valerie had had to go home to start her new life, but her old home had needed to transition into a new era just as her mind had. So together, Valerie and Lioness had returned to Valerie’s home; her mansion base, her headquarters. Mistress had told them that the gas bomb induced a state of euphoria in anyone who breathed it. That it would enslave free minds. But Valerie and Lioness had minds already captured: they were safe from it, it couldn’t do anything to them, because they had already been taken.

Since it had been Valerie’s home before, she’d known the layout of it perfectly. This meant knowing the ideal place for detonation; in the central air room; which filtrated all the air in the mansion and sent it out to every room. It was easier than trying to corral all the adult women who were her targets into one place; and it could be done with no one suspecting it was happening. Valerie and Lioness had carried the bomb between them; if not, they might otherwise have been holding hands; they went deep into the mansion, until they had found the central air room. Then they had set the bomb down, and for a moment, they had kissed. They were following Mistress’ orders perfectly: but they had a second to kiss, a second to be lovers. They always had seconds like those. So they kissed.

Then they broke apart, and turned back to the bomb that was going to release euphoria in the minds of everyone who inhaled its contents. Together, they had reached over the bomb, had bent down, and both had pressed down on the detonation switch in unison together; then they had watched the counter on the bomb come alight, and count backwards from five seconds. There had been a special anticipation in seeing this happen; Valerie had noticed herself holding her breath in excitement. She’d consciously released this; and then the bomb had detonated, and the room had filled with a thick white cloud, until the fans and the filters sent the gas out through the entire house.

Valerie and Lioness had stood smiling together momentarily.

Taking that moment to smile gave the gas long enough to work; and long enough for their other accomplices to arrive. They’d gone back down to the foyer to meet them.

Lioness had a large staff of women of her own; all of them worshipped, and venerated her. They already had their orders; they were to go through the house, and find all of Valerie’s former staff; the staff that would now, unanimously, be lying on various mansion floors, swamped by internal euphoria, overwhelmed and completely vulnerable. The gas was important; it did most of the necessary work, but it had limitations. It couldn’t be specific; Valerie didn’t doubt Mistress. She didn’t doubt that if Mistress wanted, she could make a gas that could specifically target victims.

Gas that with one inhale could make them into whatever Mistress wanted them to be. But though Mistress was doubtless capable of procuring or otherwise seeing to the invention of such a gas, this was not the gas she had given them. The gas which they had then just released into the mansion could reduce its inhalers into susceptible, receptive people for the duration of the time the gas was in their systems. But if each and every one of Valerie’s staff were to be enslaved at once, en masse, they needed enslavers; they needed people to give them specific commands, to shape their joy into usable form; and that was why Lioness’ servants had come.

At that moment, in the foyer, they had entered.

They had begun streaming in, and setting out through the mansion, searching out their helpless targets to tell them their new truths. The gas would fade but the truths they’d accepted while under its influence would last forever; then Valerie would, just like Lioness, have a staff that venerated her. And a staff that worshipped her.

The secret really was, though, that, while Lioness’ staff worshipped her, and while Valerie’s staff would, both Lioness and Valerie would be only secondary figures of worship; worshipped as something on the way to what was truly worthy of admiration; worshipped as something secondary to the one they were both beneath. Lioness and Valerie would both have their staff; but both of their staffs would also belong to Mistress.

They would be another legion in her control, if she wished to use them; if she needed them.

When all Lioness’ acolytes had disappeared deep into the mansion, Lioness and Valerie had followed, wandering huge, stylish room to the next, in search of any future staff member of Valerie’s that had been missed.

In all the mansion, they had found only one; every other had been beneath one of Lioness’ women, listening as she was whispered to, spoken to; feeling as she was touched.

But Lioness and Valeria had sat down to induct this last one onto the staff together; taking turns, one whispering as the other pleasured; they had gone on until certain of the woman’s conversion. Once all staff were converted, they’d retired.

Back to bed; back to being lovers, and lovers who were celebrating their total victory. Celebrating all the minions who had been added to the control of their shared Mistress, while celebrating too that these minions would be delegated to serve Valerie until Mistress wanted them.

Celebrating, too, the minion they had personally converted that night, working as a team. The dark memory was between their mouths as they’d kissed. It was between their mouths again as they kissed now; but finally, the kiss was forced to an end when the door to Valerie’s bedroom opened.

Here were two of Mistress’ minions now: Mistress’ minions, and Valerie’s staff too, for the time being. Each one was dressed in latex, looking the part of a maid.

Each wore a latex dress; the dresses sat tight against each body, hugging breasts, hugging stomachs as if they were only black paint which had been applied to naked skin; the dresses looked liquid, though they sat static; each one of them were strapless, but pressed tight enough to the body to hold themselves up. They started just above the breasts, maybe sitting halfway down each chest. Then the dresses poured down, stopping just inches down the thigh; all along, the dresses sat tight to the body. This only diverged at the end; where their skirts were. The skirts were pleated, and the hems flared out in a repeating zigzag that revolved around each body.

Both maids finally wore a small piece in their hair.

Similar to a crown, but looking more like a small hairfan, showing what the role each of these servants had.

Valerie liked the look of latex a lot more than she had before. It was making her a little hot, just to look at her two maids, dressed in liquid black; it shone in the sunlight, and she appreciated the black for this too. A respite from the relentless tyranny of light in this room, in this mansion, which had not had time to be corrected yet.

Both maids were carrying a tray of breakfast. Neither spoke as they walked into the room.

Valerie and Lioness properly sat up in bed, so they weren’t facing each other any longer. They both rested backs in pillows.

Each maid set a tray on their laps, a tray for Valerie, a tray for Lioness. And then each removed the cover from the dish on the tray; and both set the inside of the cover against their stomach, and held it there, standing perfectly still and silent, and staring ahead.

Valerie and Lioness began to eat the food they’d been served, with their hands; tearing it easily, putting it in their mouths. It was delicious; and satisfying to eat this way, as a cat would.

There were multiple kinds of poultry cooked to perfection and well-seasoned; kinds of fish, too. Everything was warm, as if it were almost still alive, and pumping blood was creating this warmth. The maids stood and watched.

Both of them, Valerie and Lioness together, ate until their plates were clear, tearing and pulling with their hands, holding things dripping hot and oily; each of them licked their hands clean when they had finished their food, but their hands were still sticky with saliva.

The two maids came over to where they were on the bed, now; each one put hands under elbows to raise the two women from the bed; and they led the way to Valerie’s ensuite bathroom. The bathtub in it was more like a hot-tub, wide and triangular, sunk into the floor; the water had already been drawn, and the maids helped them down into it. Both Valerie and Lioness had slept naked the night before; easy transition.

The maids got down in the water, too; the latex didn’t seem affected by the water at all; it might have shone a little more, with the way that light bounced off the water’s ripples; each maid undertook the task of washing the woman she’d been assigned to, whoever had done the assigning; Valerie gave herself over to the release of this. Soap, and warmth, everywhere, getting her so clean; and while she was washed, she could appreciate her lover’s body across from hers, and could appreciate the maid beside her, washing Lioness as Valerie was being washed. She was watching what was happening to her happen on someone else, in parallel. It was easy to retreat into warm, smoothing motions that spread soap on her.

It felt like Valerie was being massaged everywhere. The water rippled against her in a slow surge, like it had fingers of its own it was trying to touch her with; and where the water didn’t touch her, the maid did. Everything about this morning had been perfect so far; waking up slowly, kissing Lioness, remembering the past night; eating a perfect breakfast, licking her hands clean. Now being washed; and her hands were washed too, clearing all traces of saliva off of them, making them feel clean, removing the tightness of dried saliva strings that had been shrinking their skin. Valerie felt totally pampered; felt entirely that she could luxuriate in what was happening to her. Lioness’ eyes were closed; she was enjoying, too.

Finally, it seemed both of them were clean. Lioness’ maid helped her out first, and Valerie saw that Lioness’ lionsuit was close by. It was hanging off one of the bathroom towel racks; the maid first thoroughly dried Lioness with a fluffy towel, and then helped her into her lionsuit. Once it was on her body, it looked like real fur, though it was done in leopard print. Valerie appreciated again the open bodice at the chest that was just strung across; and liked it too, when Lioness’ eyemask came on, with its pointed lion ears. She looked properly like Lioness now, in a way she didn’t quite when she was lying naked in bed.

Valerie was the one next helped out and dried off.

But once Valerie was dry, the maid attending her seemed at a loss for what to do. It was true; unlike Lioness, Valerie didn’t yet have a solidified outfit she returned to again and again. She was the Cat Queen, but she didn’t really feel like it quite yet. She just felt like Valerie; Valerie evil and Valerie opposite; but still Valerie, and it might take finding her the right outfit for her to properly feel like the Cat Queen; but for now, there was nothing Valerie’s maid could dress her in.

She ducked out of the bathroom briefly, and then she was wheeling a hanging rack back into the bathroom, strewn with multiple different outfit options.

At least a selection process could happen now.

The first outfit was a little too literal with the idea of being cat attire; it was like Lioness’ costume, but somehow even more literally designed. Valerie wondered if it had been made from real cat fur. It covered every extremity on her body; each of her arms was sleekly lined in a sleeve; each leg sleekly lined in a leg, but it all felt like cat fur, soft and down, and there wasn’t really any style to it; it didn’t even have a separate mask, it was more like a hood. The part that covered her face was attached to the rest of the suit. It was too much like a costume; it felt like someone had skinned a real cat. Like they had, and then Valerie had crawled inside of it. It was a little unpleasant; she gestured emphatically, and the maid helped her out of it.

The next outfit wasn’t what she liked either. It was latex; and she liked that; but it was almost a copy of what Valerie’s Mistress wore; she had no idea why this maid had thought this would be a good idea. Perhaps she’d been told about Mistress in too much detail while she’d been going through her process of enslavement; but to Valerie it just felt wrong to wear black and red latex, even if the base of the suit was black and the corset overlaid over it was red. Even if not quite the same, even if inverted, it was imitating.

It was imitating Mistress, and Valerie was unworthy to copy Mistress. Besides, Mistress had chosen her and appointed her Cat Queen; she wanted to look like the Cat Queen, wanted to live up to what her Mistress had made her. Mistress had, after all, not made a copy of herself; she’d made a new thing entirely. Valerie had a duty to honor that. She gestured again at her maid, now with greater impatience, and she was helped out of her outfit again.

She moved over to the rack this time, doubtful of her maid’s sense of style, and her ability to pick. She leafed through hangers, moving them along the bar; all outfits she saw had the same problems as the first two she’d tried.

Then, Valerie saw something she wanted to see, a flash of black and purple.

It reminded her of the piece she’d just taken off, actually, and of the first piece she’d tried too. But somehow, where they’d went wrong, this one went right. She scrambled to get her outfit on, and her maid had to rush and try to catch up.

Once in it, Valerie could appreciate the way the latex hugged her; she moved to the mirror, brushing the maid aside, to get a better look at how the ensemble came together.

The leggings portion of the catsuit was tight, and jet-black; the leggings made her feel like she was a Cat; they implied fur, instead of replicating it; they extended down, encased her feet.

They rose high, and hugging her hips; but here, in the trunk of her body, was where the purple was introduced.

The shoulders of the suit were high, too, built up, so it felt like the top of a cape was there; but there was no cape, regal though that might have been; Valerie was glad for this because she was sure a cape could only have gotten in her way. The center of the suit hugged tight like the lower portion; it forced her breasts up; and though Valerie’s shoulders were completely covered, the neck of the shirt dipped low, in an arc that somehow had all the class of royalty; and the entire body of the suit was that royal, regal purple color.

The sleeves came down, but they were black; unlike the leggings, which flowed into booties, the sleeves didn’t flow into gloves; each sleeve came into a triangular point, the furthest edge of which was centered on the back of Valerie’s hands. It was like something medieval. These felt like sleeves that belonged on a royal gown; and it was the sleeves, and the shoulders, and the purple color all together that made Valerie feel the way she did, that this was something regal; this was something a Queen would wear, and while she was in it, she was a Queen. It was fitting for her; it suited her, and she loved the feeling of the latex caressing her body. She loved the look of it.

And when she stepped forward in her covered feet, she felt like a cat stalking in the night; cat and queen, both. The perfect outfit for her.

She turned back to the rack, rooting among other outfits for the last piece. There was an eyemask, like the one Lioness wore. It was black, and it sat on Valerie’s cheekbones, going over her nose, and putting up cat ears at the top of it; putting out cat whiskers. And then, set in behind the cat ears, there was a shape that looked like a crown; this was purple, though it had come with a different outfit. Unlike a standalone crown, Valerie wouldn’t have to worry about it coming off. She was complete— she was Cat Queen.

Both dressed finally, the Cat Queen and Lioness left their maids behind in the bathroom, paying them no more consideration. There had been a plan for this day, and it had taken long enough to get to the point of carrying it out, but now, together, the two of them would do it. They had exited the bathroom, now they exited the bedroom, and they were finally into the hallway.

There was lots of noise; there were lots of people, room to room, hall to hall.

Together, the Cat Queen and Lioness walked, looking in on the rooms they passed. The whole house was undergoing a remodeling now, and though the project had just been undertaken, the Cat Queen was happy the project was executing.

Her mind had been changed, and her own clothing had been changed; her mind first, and then her clothing, changed to match up with it. But now she was the Cat Queen, and she looked like the Cat Queen. The thing that didn’t match was now her house; and that was why the Cat Queen’s staff were working, doing the remodeling. All the walls would be redone; some of the windows would be blocked out; and once this fundamental aspect had been taken care of, later there could be new furniture. But first all the walls had to be stripped so new colors could take over. All that white had to be eliminated; all the brightness and all the light had to be taken out.

So far the rooms that the two of them had stopped at were not much to look at; they looked in on the next one; it had almost the same layout as the Cat Queen’s bedroom; there were five adult female staff members in this room, dressed in latex. For now, they were plastering over the large windows in the room; this was a fairly preliminary step, but all the rooms were in similarly early stages; this project hadn’t had enough time to progress very far.

The two villains left this room and moved into the room across; it didn’t have any windows because it was set inside the house, and it had no exterior walls; so there were no windows to block out, and plaster over.

In this room, instead, because there were no windows to block, the staff inside, four of them, were stripping the walls down to the internal framing of the wall; they were breaking them apart, taking everything off; but there were so many walls, it would clearly take a while for them to get all the way around the room, and for them to get everything done. Still, both villains stood watching.

The Cat Queen, in particular, appreciated watching the walls be torn apart. It felt like the last aspects of her former life were being torn apart. They had been standing in her way, and they were coming down now; they wouldn’t hinder her anymore; and her staff were relentless. They would get everything down.

The villains made it the rest of the way around the top floor; then they moved down to the main floor. There would still be the basement to go through, but they’d oversee the main floor first. Similar things were happening here; walls being stripped; in some rooms, even floors being stripped. The Cat Queen remembered what the rooms would look like; remembered what the design would be. All the walls were being cleared so they could be replaced with leather paneling; leather paneling which she now knew would be done in black leather, and purple leather. Every wall would have it; in some rooms, every wall would be black paddled leather. In other rooms, every wall would be purple padded leather. Some would combine; One panel would be black leather, and the next would be purple. Or some rooms would checker panels; so one wall would be both purple and black, or black and purple; depending which checkered panel was on top, and which panel was on the bottom.

Some rooms would keep their original floors; but some would get leather padded floors. This house would not be the center of light and goodness it had been. The Cat Queen was not the hero she had been; her house was going to be a lair now, making her evil clear in every room. Most of the windows were going to be blocked out, then padded over, just so that all the lighting in each room could be set overhead.

And set according to mood. Every room in the house could and would look like a dungeon, even the rooms which were not subterranean. Every room would look like a dungeon in which sex play could take place; some of the rooms would receive the necessary equipment for this, but even the ones which only received normal furniture would still remind anyone who entered them where they were, the Cat Queen’s lair, a place they might reasonably expect to see sadism or masochism carried out, even carried out with them as an active participant.

None of these designs could be seen yet; the old walls had to be taken down, and the new walls had to be prepared before that could happen. But the Cat Queen could see the potential.

They moved through the entire main floor; it looked as unfinished, and as in flux as the top floor of the mansion. The Cat Queen did feel slight impatience; but each member of her staff was hard at work in every room of the mansion, carrying out the design; the only thing required was patience, now. The design would become clearer all throughout the house as every day passed; the remodeling would come closer and closer to being completed.

They’d finished looking over the ground floor, and now they descended together to the basement; down here, there would be no aesthetic redesign. The leather paneling wouldn’t be installed in this area. But there were still changes happening down here to oversee.

The changes that were happening down here were practical; new equipment that could be used in service of evil. This was just as worth inspecting as what had been seen upstairs; and the progress on this equipment was further along than the progress on the structural changes to the house.

They passed through one basement room to the next, leaving behind set after set of house staff members as they worked around new equipment in each room.

They came to a room further back, which was set up like a lab; there were beakers, beakers and beakers of the same manufactured chemical; more was being produced by the two assistants who were in here, and the Cat Queen knew what the chemical was, felt pride.

Her workers had created a new strain of the drug that was named Ultra Bliss; it forced who ever ingested it, or inhaled it, into a state of complete compliance, and complete obedient joy.

This was a drug the Cat Queen was familiar with; a drug she had a history with, from even before she’d been the Cat Queen; from when she had still been Valerie, and not evil Valerie, but good Valerie. As a hero, she had developed an antidote to this drug Ultra Bliss. Until that point, Ultra Bliss had had permanent effect that was irreversible. But Valerie’s antidote had completely reversed Ultra Bliss impact, and it worked in every case; she’d restored a lot of people’s free will through use of it.

But now as Cat Queen, she had turned over all the research she had; and all information that had gone into synthesizing the antidote. So in very quick time, this new strain had been synthesized. And relying on the Cat Queen’s former research, which had been done as Valerie, they’d easily made a strain which was completely immune to the antidote. Now, Ultra Bliss would be permanent and long-lasting once again, and it could never be countered. All the units of antidote the heroes league had were now rendered useless, and they didn’t even know it yet.

There were plenty of units of Ultra Bliss here, and still more were being manufactured; but now it was time to see the drug be put to use.

The Cat Queen knew she had truly become her new self; because there was no latent sadness, no latent regret at all her hard work being undone. She’d felt no guilt in betraying the heroes’ league, in ruining all that antidote. She only felt gladness, only felt pleasure when she thought of her betrayal. When she thought of how all this Ultra Bliss was going to be used. And they were still making more of it.

The day had started so slowly, but now, the Cat Queen and Lioness had arrived down here just in time. The subject that had been captured for testing was ready to demonstrate the new drug’s effects; they hadn’t missed the testing, they had arrived just in time to see.

The lab room had a second room which was off of it; that room had a window in the wall for observation, and a door which permitted entry. The subject was in there right now, waiting to be tested upon. She wasn’t looking very happy about it.

There had been time, before bed last night; after converting all house staff, but before having sex; time to be informed of the remodel, time to be informed of the new house design, time to be updated on the status of Ultra Bliss. And time to be informed of who the first test subject was going to be. So when the Cat Queen looked in the through the window, she already knew she would recognize who was there.

It was the woman who had once been Valerie Caldwell’s sidekick; who went by the moniker ‘Cub.’ She wasn’t dressed in her usual attire; which had made her look like a bit of a bear cub; she’d been stripped out of that and redressed. But the Cat Queen wasn’t looking down at Cub’s body yet; she was looking into her eyes; and Cub saw her, because the window was clear through. This observation room had not been installed with the other renovations; it was something that Valerie had put into her own house originally. And it hadn’t been something intended for surveilling human captives; she’d put in an observation room then for the purposes of scientific research; in case there were unknown chemicals requiring observation.

They could be more safely observed from within the room; or if she did venture in, in proper protective gear, in case of something going wrong, she could signal for help and see how her assistants were responding to it. The observation room had never been intended for such a nefarious purpose; if it had, likely the window would not have been transparent from within; any potential captives would see nothing, and only be seen.

But because this room had once had a benign purpose, the Cat Queen could look at Cub, and see Cub looking back at her; and Cub was giving her a look of very deep hatred now. The Cat Queen really couldn’t begrudge her this; after all, she had betrayed her. Her own sidekick— she’d betrayed her. That made the Cat Queen feel so satusfied inside. She knew if she could she would have betrayed Cub all over again, handed her personally over to the people who had trapped her in this room, for a second time. She would have done it just for the satisfaction of knowing she was doing it to please her mistress; for the satisfaction of knowing how helpful and obedient she was being. Cub’s freedom meant so much less to her than all those other things, all those other feelings. She wished Mistress was here to watch her betrayal of Cub; but she knew Mistress knew about it, at least. She had been the one to choose Cub as test subject.

The Cat Queen for the first time let her eyes flick downwards, and appreciate Cub’s body. She’d given a cursory glance before, enough to see that she wasn’t wearing her standard uniform, but she hadn’t looked far past that; she’d wanted to look into Cub’s face, stare at the hatred in Cub’s eyes, feel the depth of her betrayal, and so the depth of her devotion, more deeply.

But Cub looked good in what she was wearing now: it fit her so tightly it was like she had been sealed into it. A gimp suit; made of latex, but so pressed into her body it looked uncomfortable. It was biting into her, digging inwards into her body; a fit that was meant to bring discomfort.

The suit extended all the way up to Cub’s neck, and then it disappeared beneath the base of a large gas mask which had been set-up over her head. The gas mask held a chamber which contained the same substance as was in beakers all throughout the lab. Slowly, the chemical was passing like air into Cub’s body. With every breath, she inhaled more of it, and she wasn’t fighting anymore. A quick look at the log of what Cub was doing showed that at first, upon capture, she had tried for a long time to pull the mask off her head. But she’d clearly since given this up. Now she was just standing there, glaring, hating her captors. Hating the Cat Queen; but breathing.

The Cat Queen watched Cub closely. Particularly, she was watching the chemical chamber on her mask; watching the chemical percolate, turn to vapor, pass into Cub’s face. With every breath, there was a second before the next one where Cub looked slightly disoriented; she lost the focus of her hatred for just a second. The Cat Queen relished each of these seconds. For just their duration, Cub was a little bit her new self; a little bit the person she would become. Not wanting to fight anymore, not wanting to resist.

But then, still full on air for a few more seconds, that disorientation would pass, and Cub would resume glaring; she’d keep this up for a few seconds until her lungs forced more drug into her body.

The Cat Queen loved the hopelessness of it; the relentlessness of it. Cub was just standing there breathing, and every breath changed her. She was breathing literal obedience, and obedience that would make her so pleased and so happy; it worked for a few seconds before she fought through it; but the Cat Queen was sure that, before this, there had been shorter and shorter moments of disorientation; to begin with there wouldn’t have been any at all. But now they were elongating, and they were shrinking her moments of hatred. It was happening with every breath. This kept striking Cat Queen anew, because every time Cub inhaled again, she was disorientated for just a little bit longer than the previous time.

Then the Cat Queen continued looking up past the gas mask on Cub’s face; because there was still one more thing on Cub’s body, a part of the systematic process happening to her. She was wearing Over-minds’ helmet, but it served a different function now. The Cat Queen thought of this with some wistfulness; she’d liked the helmet the way it had been, and would always appreciate the part it had played in changing her.

But it was only one helmet, and it could only enslave one person at a time; in Over-minds’ days, when there had been many helmets like it, all ready to be placed on vulnerable heads, that had been one thing, but now that the helmet was a last solitary remnant, it wasn’t very good for mass enslavement.

It was more useful now that it was being used this way: it had been modified so it could show the progress of Cub’s mental conquest; beeping away, beaming out a display into empty air that showed how changed Cub was, what percentage of her brain had been taken over and what part of it was still free. If they ever wanted the helmet’s original function back, it was still capable of it; they hadn’t erased its former capabilities, they had only added new functions, and those new functions were the things being carried out. Better to use the solitary helmet once on one test subject to refine the serum into something that could be dispersed through large groups of people with a one hundred percent success rate. Using the helmet now, on Cub, as she changed— that would help make sure the serum was perfect, that it did exactly as they wanted it to. It would also ensure that the serum was reliable; so that when they were finished developing it, they would know it was doing exactly as expected without having many helmets that were showing them this was the case.

Because Ultra Bliss was more targeted than the drug that the Cat Queen and Lioness had spread through the mansion. That drug had only released general euphoria, but Ultra Bliss actually enslaved the people that breathed it in. If Ultra Bliss had been ready by last night, a team of enslavers wouldn’t have been necessary. The drug would have done all the work. But it was still being refined, so the timing just hadn’t worked.

The Cat Queen was above everything else, just glad that they had a subject like Cub that they could do testing on; with her contribution, they could make Ultra Bliss perfect; it was already at the point where it was immune to all antidotes; and this would work if a group of victims could be locked in a room or a building, and a constant supply of the gas could be pumped in. But with a little more work, it might be possible to make the gas fast-acting, so a long administration process wouldn’t be necessary for enslavement anymore.

Now the Cat Queen looked over to what the helmet was projecting up, beside Cub’s body where she wasn’t seeing it. It had formed a transparent, nearly holographic screen, but the data on that screen, though similarly seethrough, was perfectly visible, legible and easy to understand. There were a lot of more specific details in the data, but there was also an easy overview; the percentage conquered, the percentage enslaved that Cub’s brain was resting at. The number had been slowly ticking up all the time; and it was now at a respectable ninety-seven percent. If there had been some kind of rush, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing to move things forward now. But there wasn’t a rush; and the point of this was to have the greatest effect, and get the greatest amount of information. It was worth waiting until the data was showing a hundred percent.

The difference in Cub’s demeanor was clear now. She was hardly glaring in hatred at all; mostly, she was just standing there, looking blank, a vaguely happy expression on her face. She couldn’t seem to remember wanting to stare in hatred; Cub was just standing there, looking very obedient, and very joyful, if in a sleepy way. She didn’t even seem to realize that people were looking at her anymore. Her percentage ticked to ninety-eight.

The expression on Cub’s face was starting to become more defined; she had looked sort of past awareness, sort of out of everything; like she couldn’t follow what was happening anymore. The joy which Ultra Bliss insisted on in its victims had not been visible in her face; but now, that look that lacked focus had faded. Instead, Cub looked happy; really, clearly happy; the drug had overcome her mind, and she was in great joy about this. This was a new Cub; not the one who had stood there, hating, insisting on the past as Ultra Bliss insisted on its symptoms of inhalation. She had let the drug take those past hang-ups from her; she had let the drug make her over into newness.

The Cat Queen was slightly jealous. There was nothing like the first taste of obedience; and nothing like the first surrender. And Cub was standing in front of her feeling both of these things. She could do a million things to prove her own obedience, but she could never again taste the feeling of first conquest.

It was right that things were this way; she wouldn’t be very useful to her Mistress if she had to be constantly reconquered, but she still felt a faint longing as she watched Cub completely giving; as she watched the percentage tick up to ninety-nine on the holographic display. Ah, to be newly enslaved once again. A shame she couldn’t go back, but she couldn’t.

She turned to Lioness.

She was about to ask if the last percentage mattered when, in her periphery, she saw the number become one hundred.

“She’s ready.” Lioness said.

The Cat Queen nodded agreement, and gestured to the four adult catgirls who had been working in the lab. She gestured again, and the four of them understood they needed to enter the room, and take a more hands-on role in Cub’s testing. They were her staff; they obeyed her.

The four of them entered the observation room, bringing themselves closer to where Cub was standing in her gimp suit; they surrounded her on every side, four of them standing and enclosing her, leaving her no obvious escape route. It didn’t look like she even wanted one.

Then the catgirls, each of them in black latex like their queen, reached out for her. They put hands on her body; and started feeling her all over, like they were pawing it at her. She smiled; one of the girls removed the helmet from her head, and then the mask; then started to kiss her crudely, with obvious use of her tongue; Cub was quick to respond to this, to greet the kissing happening to her.

She was kissing the one; the other three kept touching her; one of them was putting a lot of focus into touching her between the legs; petting Cub almost like she was another cat; petting her right over her clit, touching her through her own latex. It was making Cub quite obviously shudder as she stood; her legs looked like they were getting weaker, so the two other catgirls bracketed her on either side with their bodies, taking on the weight of hers.

The catgirl in front of her kept stroking at the area around Cub’s vagina; and Cub was coming to lean harder and harder on the catgirls who were on both sides of her; though she had her head turned far to the side and the fourth catgirl had snuck herself around the catgirl who was standing beside her so she could keep kissing Cub on the mouth. It was crowded around Cub now, especially with two catgirls sharing one side of her body; one of them holding her up, the other craning to kiss her. Cub seemed happy with the state of things anyway. She kept kissing the catgirl who was on her mouth, and shuddering along.

It was clear, from the looks on the faces of each catgirl, they were enjoying their role in teasing and stimulating Cub. Even the catgirl with her eyes closed as she kissed Cub on the mouth wore an expression that belied this enjoyment.

And this really had been the best way to test her; even with Over-minds’ helmet displaying total conversion, there might have been little bits of the old Cub hiding somewhere in her mind. The catgirls were giving Cub pleasure to take in order to prove her obedience. And this was one of the surest ways to tempt those old bits to show themselves, tempt them into trying to rebel.

But no bits like these were surfacing; Cub was completely overtaken, after all.

The things that had been shakes in Cub’s body were clearly changing now. It was obvious that she wasn’t just shuddering; that now these were convulsions. Cub was having the first orgasm of her new life, and she seemed to throw her body into it with total abandonment of herself; of everything she had been. If there had been any loose bits of resistance, it seemed that Cub had been the one to find them; seemed now that she had willingly surrendered them in exchange for the pleasure she was feeling.

There really was nothing like pleasure that one knew to be sealing in their own obedience; their own fate. The Cat Queen had plenty of firsthand experience with that feeling, briefly envied Cub again.

Cub shook lengthily; the orgasm visibly shredding through her. But when she had gone stiller, the catgirls hadn’t finished with her. They stood closer around her, and each one of them put two hands on her body. They started by moving more slowly at first; dragging their hands down, and then back up; seeming to touch her everywhere on her gimp suit, leaving no space unexplored.

Some minutes were passed this way; the Cat Queen found it peaceful to watch it happen, their hands passing up and then down again, then moving with circular directions; each hand in a pair diverging from the other; Cub was getting covered everywhere by touches like this, and they were rubbing her fast. Then she was convulsing another time.

They let Cub shake through her second orgasm a while, kept touching her in the same way; spreading the contact farther, a few of them getting on their knees so they could rub over her latex encased legs, too. They waited until she had calmed down from her orgasm again; and then, it was their mouths they were putting on her, licking the latex of her suit, and sucking it. There was something catlike in the way their tongues came out; and even though those tongues must only feel like pressure to Cub, with no associated moisture to the sensation, she seemed receptive enough to enjoy this; and the four catgirls mouthed and licked all over the suit on her body. A third orgasm resulted.

The Cat Queen and Lioness shared a look; something about the moment gave the sense that they should not speak aloud, and potentially disrupt what was happening inside the observation window. But the Cat Queen knew Lioness was thinking the same thing she was. Cub had already been effectively brainwashed, but with her last few orgasms, she had reinforced that brainwashing even beyond what Ultra Bliss could do; and what Over-minds’ helmet could measure. She had willingly chosen to find what was left of her inside and give it up to the pleasure; she was more brainwashed than she had been at any point so far, and all that needed to happen was some verbal testing; they needed to question her, just to be sure.

The Cat Queen and Lioness entered the room; immediately, with the sound of the door closing behind them, each of the catgirls looked up, and stepped back from Cub, breaking off physical contact with her. They were looking to their queen now for direction, the chief women among all of their ranks of womanhood, and as she had sent them into the room, she now sent them out of it: a waving motion of her hand was all they needed to see, and they fled, leaving Cub alone with both villains.

Cat Queen looked her over; Lioness did the same; both of them were revolving her in a circle, by steps of their feet; they moved in parallel, never catching up to each other as they observed closely. The brainwashing seemed to have succeeded.

“Who are you?” Lioness asked, her steps around Cub more stalking; more lionlike.

“I’m whoever you tell me I am, Mistress.”

Cub said this cheerily; as if she had no hidden resentment towards this truth.

The Cat Queen and Lioness shared a pleased look; in the Cat Queen’s mind, it was promising that Cub no longer had any memory of what her life had been like before. Her old identity hadn’t only been surrendered, down to its last scraps. It had been completely, utterly forgotten.

“Do you know the one who is above us?” The Cat Queen asked, thinking of her own Mistress; hearing Lioness addressed as Mistress had struck her as very wrong.

“I will know them if you tell me to know them,” Cub answered, smiling with serenity.

“The one above us is the true Mistress,” Lioness picked up the line of the Cat Queen’s questioning. “If you refer to us, you may call us each Villainess. We appreciate the devotion you were initially eager to show us, even if you didn’t have the right terminology yet.”

Cub nodded curtly, though she looked overjoyed at this recognition. She was doing very well at keeping herself in check; doing that to serve.

“I understand, Villainess. You may tell me about the true Mistress or not whenever you wish.”

The Cat Queen met eyes with Lioness again; she felt this was proper: she and Lioness should be referred to by the same term; and Cub could be shared between them.

“What will you want? What will you do?” The Cat Queen took a turn asking; she pressed the questions forward, a little closer to Cub in her circling.

“Anything, Villainess. Anything either of you tell me to.”

That was enough; Lioness was nodding her approval, and the Cat Queen felt the same. Every answer had been completely perfect in every way. There had been no room left for doubt; no part of Cub as she had been yet remained.

“That’s sufficient,” the Cat Queen spoke again. “You’ll be our loyal minion. And you’ll be our loyal sexslave. You’ll serve both of us.”

“Yes, Villainess, of course,” Cub replied, her mind absorbing the order. “I’ll be your loyal minion. I’ll be your loyal sexslave.”

Lioness nodded again, pleased once more by what she’d heard. They both knew what had been left in the room for them, what had been stashed away. It had been one more piece of information they’d been notified of, after last night’s mass conversion, but before retiring to bed. So now Lioness stopped circling the room; she stepped aside to the nearest wall, the wall she needed, the wall she’d arrived at as if it had been perfectly planned. She pressed on a panel, and a compartment opened. Then she reached in, and pulled out a hood made of latex. She started walking back over to Cub, and the Cat Queen moved to stand next to her once she’d finished walking across from the wall.

The Cat Queen reached out to grab the other side of the latex hood. When Lioness had caught up with her, she’d rearranged her grip, leaving one side unheld— the Cat Queen gratefully gathered it up in her own grip.

Together, they raised their arms, lifting the hood up, up, higher than Cub’s head, so they could pull it down onto her. The two of them worked fluidly together; as they had all of that day, and all of the night before. They were like one being with four arms. When the hood was high enough, and angled right, they pulled it down over Cub’s head, and it obscured her face partly once it was on; she’d easily be able to see out of it, but any person trying to see her face would have to be standing directly in front of her, in a way that was just right, to be able to see her.

Now that the hood was on, she didn’t look like Cub anymore. The hood had a feline quality; and it transformed her entire appearance. Cub could keep her gimp suit; it could be her uniform now, it could replace her old one which had most likely been discarded somewhere. And she looked good in her new suit too, so all the more reason to let that be her new primary outfit. But now that Cub had the hood on, the suit was more than just a suit. It marked Cub as yet another catslave.

The name Cub didn’t really apply to the brainwashed woman anymore.

“What’s your name?” Lioness prompted Cub; echoing similar questions they’d asked her before.

“Please tell me, Villainess,” Cub preened. “Please tell me.” She was looking from Lioness to the Cat Queen and back.

“From now on,” the Cat Queen said, “your name will be Sex Kitten.”

“Yes,” Lioness echoed, feeling the name around in her mouth and clearly liking the texture: “Sex Kitten.”

“I’m Sex Kitten,” Sex Kitten said, integrating the knowledge. Then, with a greater boisterousness, “I’m Sex Kitten!” She was actively excited about it now.

“I’m Sex Kitten,” she said once more. “And I will be a loyal minion and sexslave to you, Villainess, and to you, Villainess.”

They believed her.