The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Her submissive nature carried a level of shame with it. Katherine was a smart woman, liberated, confident. Her work as a costume designer for the theater department in high school had led her to an apprenticeship in the fashion industry, her own design company and then the sale of that company for a little under eight million dollars in her early twenties. She’d also negotiated to retain a share of the purchased company for an additional bit of continuing income. She was not supposed to crave the dominance of another. She was not supposed to long for a man who would control her.

Her position in this was made more complex by her great beauty. Most men found her intimidating from the moment they saw her. When they learned of her wealth this factor became even more difficult to overcome. Men stammered near her. They muttered. They stumbled over their words. They interested her not at all.

She spent more and more time on line. She would frequent the chat rooms, first the ones on AOL and then later the more erotic and perverse ones she found through Yahoo Messenger. She adopted a persona that she hated to admit she enjoyed. She became giggly on line, typing “lol” a good deal and often rejecting the word she wanted to use for a far simpler one. She spent time in the “bimbo for use” room and the “women are property” space. She played the role and enjoyed the fantasy.

She bounced from room to room enough that she would not remember that it was in the “hypnoslave” room that she first met Thomas. She would never know that he had been ghosting for weeks, following her about in cyberspace watching her interactions and learning the details of her fantasy life. She would never know that he had used her Yahoo Screen name to send her a Trojan-horse e-mail, that he had learned her real name before she ever met him, that he knew who she was, knew how beautiful she was, knew how wealthy she was. All she really knew was that in one of these chat rooms she had met a charming, sweet man. He was funny and likable. He spoke of his interest in submissive women with an air of intelligent self-examination and she was able to easily converse with him, sliding in and out of persona, allowing him to see her intelligence and to enjoy her stupidity without the guilt of real deception. They enjoyed erotic conversations as well as more mundane ones.

They chatted through instant messages for hours, many nights every week for more than a month. It turned out they both lived on the Upper West Side and they speculated as to whether they might have seen one another in passing and never have known it. He rented a small apartment, she learned, and she did not tell him that she owned a large condo. Eventually they agreed to meet in person. He insisted that it be in a public place and that he would buy her dinner. Knowing that he did not have the kind of money she did, Katherine named a restaurant that she knew to be reasonably priced.

From their conversations she knew some of what turned Thomas on. He had secrets, big ones, of which she remained unaware, but she certainly knew some of what would get to him. She considered it a good sign that even though he knew of her desire for submission he had not, for this first meeting, told her what to wear or how to arrange her hair. She brushed out her long, dark mane and tied it at the back. Then she changed her mind and let it hang loose about her shoulders. She wore dark nylons and the highest heels she owned at three inches. As small as she was, she had still never liked high heels. She knew Thomas did, though, and she thought that if things went further with him, she might need to invest in some new shoes. She wore a nice skirt that would show her calves—he’d mentioned the imagined curve of her calves often when they played in the virtual world. She wore a bright blue silk blouse that she had designed herself and a push-up bra that made the most of her less-than-enormous bosom. She went to meet Thomas for the first time.

She could feel eyes on her as she entered the restaurant. She knew the affect she had on men when she dressed up. She stood at the hostess’ station scanning the room, aware of the averted gazes, the shifted stares. The she saw Thomas. He looked at her, without masking the appraisal. Then he nodded approvingly and gestured for her to join him. She was not entirely certain that this was the man she was here to meet, but she moved forward nonetheless. She wondered why a man this attractive would need to spend time in chat rooms, would need to meet women on the internet. She wondered a man this well build and confident would need the sense of fetishistic dominance that came with a dose of shame. Surely this was not the man she’d spoken with for so many hours, the man who could be soft and understanding and intellectual and who could so comfortably play the role of the cruel master. This man was too athletic to be that smart and witty. As she drew near enough to ask his name he said, “Sit, Katherine,” and it was both an invitation and a command. She extended a hand for him to take and looked into his eyes but he frowned a bit at her and said, too softly for anyone else to hear, “Eyes down.” With a small smile that implied agreement rather than concession, she dropped her eyes and he took her hand and helped her to her seat.

“You didn’t tell me you were beautiful,” he said and it sounded more like a criticism than a compliment.

She found herself saying, “I’m sorry.”

“You are forgiven,” Thomas said and she could hear the smile in his voice. She started to look up at him but he admonished her with a playful. “uh-uh-uh.”

A glass of wine awaited her beside her menu and she reached forward and took a sip. Decent but not extravagant. Merlot. He’d been paying attention on line. A good sign.

They ordered their meal and they chatted while they waited for it to come. The conversation, relaxed and friendly, was made a bit awkward by his insistence that she continue to look downward. She was unaccustomed to speaking without making eye contact and it made her feel a bit foolish. Occasionally he issued a casual command and she found herself continuing to obey them even as she silently considered the possibility that this might be the only time she would meet him. She was having some fun playing the role of the willing submissive, but she was not at all certain that it would retain its charm much beyond a dinner date. She finished her glass of wine and a second one was placed by her elbow but she found the first was affecting her more than she would have expected. Perhaps because she’d had no lunch. The entrees had not yet arrived. The appetizers had not yet arrived. Shouldn’t there be bread on the table?

Thomas said, “In a moment you are going to look into my eyes. You won’t look at my face; you won’t examine me. You will simply look into my eyes and listen as I speak to you. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” Katherine said.

“’Okay,’ is not acceptable. You need to say, ‘yes, sir,’ to this question. Do you understand?”

A bit sheepish, Katherine spoke softly enough that nobody else in the restaurant would hear her. She said, “Yes, sir,” and it was really at that moment that her new life had begun.

“Good girl,” Thomas said. “Now, take off your shoes and get comfortable.”

How will taking off my shoes in a restaurant make me more comfortable? Katherine wondered. But even as she thought this, she felt her soles on the cool floor and a sense of relaxation swept through her.

“Now,” Thomas went on, “I know it is difficult for you to make yourself raise your eyes. I know that you are a bit ashamed of yourself, that you are ashamed of your intelligence, that this is what weighs you down and turns you inward. But as I count to five I am going to help you with that and then you are going to be able to look into my eyes. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Katherine said again and she realized that she did understand. She stared at the table, hating herself for her own intelligence but knowing that this was somehow not right. She had always hated stupid people. She was better than them, the blonde, popular bimbos, the shallow cheerleaders of the world. Surely it was not her intelligence that she was ashamed of.

“Two,” Thomas said, and she wondered what had happened to ‘one.’ “You feel the cool floor under your feet and it’s so comfortable just to live in your body as your mind shuts down, your vocabulary slips away from you and you become lighter, less embarrassed and you may begin to try now to lift your eyes or you may find that you want to just let your gaze stay where it is until you are ready...”

He was still speaking but the cool floor under her feet was a source of great comfort to her and she could feel the sensuous drape of her skirt where the hem touched her nyloned legs, she could feel the weight of her breasts lifted forward and then, surprisingly, Thomas said, “five.” and she found herself looking into his eyes, his warm, brown eyes. “How do you feel?” He asked.

“Good,” she said. Then, uncertain, she corrected herself. “er... well. um... good.” She realized she was flip-flopping and she giggled a little at her confusion. That wine was good.

“Good girl,” he said. The appetizers had come to the table at some point and the smell of the crab cakes reached her. She had been so hungry a minute ago but now... she felt a little odd. “Eat your appetizer, Kathy,” Thomas said and for the first time in her life she let it pass allowing herself to be Kathy rather than Katherine. “Put all of your focus on the wonderful taste of the crab cakes. You don’t need to listen to me to hear me, Kathy. And the crab cakes are truly wonderful. Look down at them, Kathy. Eyes down. Eat your appetizer...” And as her eyes shifted down to the crab cakes his voice became a distant drone. She felt a little bit bad about it. She knew this was a first date. She should be making conversation, bantering, showing him how witty she could be. But the crab cakes were so very good, she couldn’t tear her focus away from them. She heard herself mutter, “yes, Sir,” but she couldn’t remember what the question was that she had just answered. All she could think about was the wonderful crab cakes. The taste of them, the texture between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. It was wonderful... sensual... it was... sexual. She realized she was—excited. There was another word for it but she couldn’t find it just now. She was tingly and ... wanty. No. Again. Another word that she couldn’t... she wanted to touch herself. It was the crab cakes. They were doing this to her somehow. She was on the verge of orgasm... she kept getting closer but never quite hitting it... she tried to put her fork down but found herself taking just one more bite... just one more. Only the pleasure of eating kept her from rubbing herself ‘til she exploded right here in the restaurant. It was the only thing preventing her but it was also causing the feeling. And Thomas was still talking. She had to tell him what was going on, had to tell him that she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She should apologize for being such an awful dinner companion. She should tell him that something was very wrong and she had to go home at once.

The intense feeling passed. She set down her fork and found she was looking directly and deeply into his eyes. She was about to say that she was sorry but she would have to go now. Instead she heard herself say, “yes, Sir,” and she continued to look into his eyes as the appetizer plates were taken away and the dinner plates arrived. He had lovely eyes. She couldn’t look away from them. What was he saying? Why wasn’t she able to hear him properly? Why did she keep losing the thread?

He said, ‘ten,’ and quite abruptly she chuckled, relaxed. She felt good. She was energetic and it seemed as though she’d just awakened from a good night’s rest. It must’ve been the wine, she thought. A little food to absorb it and now she was just fine. She giggled and surprised herself by doing it, realizing that she sounded like one of those dumb girls she hated so much. She said, “sorry,” then by way of explanation she added, “I hate dumb people.” She realized that was an odd sentence to blurt out so by way of explanation she added, “they’re stupid.” Again she giggled, knowing that she had just sounded like an idiot.

“Is that right?” Thomas asked, grinning oddly at her.

She tilted her head trying to figure out what that look meant. She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger studying him. He really was a very handsome man. And she liked it when he smiled. She knew something that would make him smile again. She lifted her stockinged foot from the cool floor of the restaurant and put it in his lap. She felt the response she had hoped for and saw the pleasure on his face. She also felt a tingle in herself and wondered when her feet had become so sensitive. They were triggering her... why couldn’t she find the words she was looking for?

“What’s that thing...?” she asked, groping for the word.

“You can’t be serious,” Thomas said and wiggled an eyebrow at her.

“Noooo,” she admonished him sounding oddly little-girlish. “Not THAT thing.” She pressed against it with her foot for emphasis. “What’s that thing... where... it’s the part of your mind that does sex stuff. I mean...”

“The libido?”

“Yeah!” She said brightly. “That’s the thing.”

“What about it?” Thomas asked.

“Um...” Kathy furrowed her brow trying to remember what had brought her to that thought. Then she worried that furrowing her brow would cause wrinkles and she relaxed her face. When had she ever worried about that? She wasn’t one of those girls. She was a brilliant woman, an entrepreneur. Her eyes dropped to the table in shame. She realized she must be making a terrible impression. She had to get this under control and fast or she would never get to see him again. She had to see him again. She tried to look up from the table. Her eyes were so heavy. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She tried again. She took a deep breath and though to herself, Just relax. It’s okay. Clear your mind and look at him. At once her mind cleared, emptied. She looked at the handsome, charming man and said, “I’m a very smart girl,”

“Of course you are, Honey.” He reached forward and touched her cheek.

“I am,” she protested. “I made a whole business all by myself. And I sold it for a lot of money.”

“Well done,” he said. And then, “Are you going to eat your dinner?”

“Oh!” Kathy said, noticing the food. “I forgot!” She giggled and picked up her fork.

While she ate her main course Thomas spoke to her again. Again she found it difficult to keep track of what he was saying. At times she was certain she was back in proper control of her senses but her focus would remain locked on her food as she tried to listen to his words. At other times she found herself unable to think clearly, unable to find words. At moments she was aware of herself, looking out from the inside unable to stop herself from acting like a vapid moron. At other moments she seemed to drift so comfortably into the Kathy persona that it was almost like she was on line flirting in a Bimbos room.

When the check came she allowed Thomas to pick it up without resistance, which was unlike her. Ordinarily she would pay for dinner, ensuring that there was no chance of a man feeling as though she was obligated to put out. But that sort of reasoning never even crossed her mind this evening. She liked the strength of his fingers as he tossed his credit card onto the little tray with the check. She liked his smile. He asked her if she’d like to help him figure out the bill and she found the numbers confusing. She kept forgetting what had to be carried and having to go back and start again. After a few tries she said, “I really am a very smart girl.”

Thomas replied, “Don’t be silly, Honey. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled at him, then, relaxing. He added, “You can’t remember what you had for your main course, can you?”

As she thought back on her main course the details escaped her. Everything seemed to be escaping her. She knew she had just eaten. There had been the... what was it called? The before thingy and then... main course. “Hmmnn...” she said, all of her vocabulary slipping away. She twisted a strand of her hair around a finger thinking. There had been something she was trying to remember but she couldn’t seem to...

The waitress returned Thomas’ credit card to him and he signed the restaurant’s copy of the slip.

He gripped her foot for a moment, pressing it against himself and then said, :“Shall I walk you home, Kathy?”

She nodded, grateful to him for offering. She was quite confused now and couldn’t quite remember which direction she should walk to get home. She wanted to thank him but... there was a word she was supposed to say. Why couldn’t she think of the right words for anything? That was odd. Sort of funny. She giggled a little. She began to stand up but Thomas said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She stared at him wide eyed. Could he tell? Did he know what was happening in her head? Was it so obvious that she couldn’t remember... anything?

He said, “Your shoes, Honey?” And she giggled again and put them on. He was a nice man, gentle and kind. It was good of him to take such care of her.

On the way home Katherine looked down at the pavement and tried frantically to figure out what was wrong with her. She didn’t feel sick at all. But something was clearly not right. And whenever she raised her eyes from the pavement she found herself confused, unable to find the words for what she wanted to express, unable much of the time to remember what it was that she had hoped to express.

A week had passed since their first meeting. Katherine liked Thomas a good deal and Kathy adored him. Katherine always found herself relaxed and satisfied after spending time with him and Kathy loved the feeling of safety he provided, the sense of freedom she found in letting him run things. She loved it when he smiled and she loved learning new things that pleased him, new ways to turn him on.

When he was not around, Katherine found herself thinking about him a good deal. She found herself craving time alone with him, time when she could allow Kathy to emerge again, allow her mind to go empty and her sexuality to overtake her intellect. She spent time and energy in between meetings with him making certain that she could be the best possible Kathy for him.

She was quite surprised by the things she found herself doing. She had bought several pairs of pumps with heels so high they forced her to walk in mincing little steps but it wasn’t just the shoes that surprised her. She was wearing more alluring outfits than she ever had before, even to business related events. At a lunch meeting, a representative from a fabric distributor wanted her to recommend him to some of her acquaintances. He asked her what she thought of the crab cakes and for several moments she was entirely lost in thought, remembering her first date with Thomas, feeling the familiar tingle of sexuality he always brought up in her. It took her quite some time to get herself focused again and even then she kept twitching with sublimated desire, imagining ways that she could excite Thomas and make him smile. In an attempt to regain control she slipped her shoes off under the table and let the soles of her feet rest on the cool floor but that only heightened the experience and after a couple of longing, shuddering breaths she slid her feet back into the high-heeled pumps.

A brochure came to her office from a plastic surgeon and she became engrossed in the images. All the women looked so much better after they’d had their breasts enlarged. Again she was surprising herself. She had always held such disdain for women who would undergo surgery just to make themselves more appealing to men. But she imagined how much it would please Thomas and she found herself wanting very much to have one of those altered bodies. Had he mentioned a preference for women with large breasts? She couldn’t quite place the conversation but she felt quite certain that she was right about this. She could imagine the happy smile he would offer. The first time he saw her after the surgery she would wear the dark stockings and the highest spike heels she owned. It was that simple. She’d made the decision and by the end of the business day she had set an appointment to meet with the surgeon. Then, knowing that even cosmetic surgery holds certain risks, she made arrangements with her lawyer to have forms faxed to her, allowing her to sign power of attorney over to Thomas so that he could control her finances. Her lawyer kept harping on the idea that the document should say that he got power of attorney only if something went wrong but she snapped that she had been running her own affairs perfectly well for quite a few years and she knew what she wanted the document to say.

The lawyer, loyal and well paid, did as he was told.

Katherine called Thomas on the phone.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said. “How’s the sexiest woman in the city?”

She chuckled. “I’m fine. I’m great. Listen, I wanted to talk to you on the phone ‘cause... well... I tend to revert to Kathy when you’re around and I wanted to talk about something serious. Okay? I talked to my lawyer today.”

The pause on the line was nerve wracking. She couldn’t imagine what it meant. He should say something. He should say, “uh-huh?” or, “yeah,” just to fill the rhythm of the conversation. The pause had a sense of fear in it. She had never sensed any fear in Thomas before. She didn’t like it. She said, “Thomas? Are you there?”

He recovered quickly enough that she could pretend she hadn’t sensed what she had sensed. He said, “Yeah. Sorry. There’s something... weird going on outside my window here. You talked to your lawyer about what, Kathy?”

She let the name slide. She looked down at her desk a little bit ashamed of the need to reach him by phone in order to maintain any decorum, a bit ashamed of her desire to maintain decorum. “I had him draw up a power of attorney document putting you in charge of my business affairs. It takes effect three days from now. At that time I—er—yeah. I will have to disappear for a few days. And then, when next I see you, Kathy will have a big surprise for you. Okay?”

“Kathy will?”

“Yes, sir,” Katherine said, quite certain she was saying it of her own volition. “You know she only wants to please you.”

“And you, Katherine?”

“I.... I want to see you again. Can you come over tonight?”

“To sign copies of the documents?”

“Yes and... you know... for dinner.”

“I would like that. I want to show Kathy something tonight. Right after the main course I want to share one of my biggest secrets with her. Do you think she would like that?”

Kathy felt her heart speed. She wanted that very much. She wanted to know all of his secrets. She wanted to be so close to him that nobody could ever come between them. She wanted to please him in all ways. “Yes, sir. Please.” She was unaware of having made the transition from one persona to the others. “I should get a... a what do you call it...? Before tonight. I should... um... when they paint my toe nails.”

“A pedicure?”

“Yeah. So I’m all clean and nice for you tonight.”

“That’s good thinking, Kathy. But don’t forget to bring that paperwork, okay? When your lawyer sends it to you I want you to put it right into your bag so you remember to bring it with you.”

“Okay. I will.”

“That’s a good girl. And it will be my pleasure to take care of your fiduciary responsibilities for you. And then after the main course I’ll share my secret. Okay?”

“Okay. And then on Thursday I’ll go do my surprise for you. Okay?”

“Okay, Kathy. That sounds good. I’ll see you this evening. For secrets, signings and the main course.”

He hung up the phone. Kathy wondered what the main course was going to be this evening. She liked eating with Thomas. The food was always good but she could never quite remember what she’d had. Except those crab cakes. A tingle swept through her. She did love those crab cakes and thought of them often.

She looked at all the piles of papers and notes on her desk. She did a lot of work here, even though she didn’t need to. It was funny how easily she slipped into her Kathy persona now. All the papers just looked like mess to her. She couldn’t really remember what any of them were for. She probably could if she tried, of course, but that would be so much effort. She’d much rather just close up the office and go home for that main course. She willed herself to take up the profits report from the company that sent her monthly royalties but as she looked at the notes she’d begun making in the margins she found herself awash in shame, not wanting to admit that she was the sort of woman who would question the details of such a neatly put-together document created by very smart men in an office somewhere. What’s wrong with me, she thought. Why can’t I just be like a normal girl? She set down the P&L sheet and picked up the brochure. She let her mind wander imagining how she’d look with bigger breasts, trying to decide whether to go for the normal-looking larger ones or the Dolly Parton hooterfest that was an option in the menu. She giggled imagining herself with a freakishly large bosom.

When Willy came with the package from her lawyer she met him at the door and signed the receipt. He asked if she was okay, because she was twirling a strand of hair around a finger and teetering on very high heels and didn’t seem to look down at him the way she ordinarily did even though she was smaller than he. She said she was fine and then showed him the brochure and asked his opinion about which breasts she’d look better with. He stuttered and stammered and excused himself without answering the question. She giggled then, suddenly aware of how much she adored Thomas, how he never seemed nervous around her.

She had few thoughts as she closed up the office. She thought about Thomas and about breasts. She thought about the main course and she occasionally wondered what kind of secret he was going to share with her. These thoughts cycled gently through her mind as she went about the automatic process of turning off the lights, collecting her belongings and locking the doors. Ever since he’d mentioned the main course she had been practicing her Kathy persona, making sure it was perfect for him. She never raised her eyes to look at the other people on the elevator as she joined them. She took meek steps in her high, high heels. When she was aware of men looking at her she found it flattering. A man with a jackhammer whistled at her and she giggled a bit to herself, her shoulders rising coyly.

In her apartment she found that Thomas had poured her a glass of wine. The smells of chopped onion and melting butter met her at the door. Thomas shouted, “I’m working on the main course now,” and at his words she sighed happily, her mind emptying.

“I brought the... um...” she bit her lower lips, trying to remember the word. “The papers. The... um...”

“Power of attourney?”

“Yeah.” She giggled. It really was marvelous how thoroughly she was able to slip into the persona when they were alone, how good it felt to be helpless and ditzy in the presence of this strong, wonderful man.

“Good girl,” he said. “Here’s your main course.”

He put some food in a bowl for her and set it on the floor. She giggled, knowing what was expected of her and knowing how much it pleased him. She set down the empty wine glass. She knelt down and crawled to the bowl to eat directly from it like a little puppy dog or a kitten.

“Is that good, honey? Are you enjoying your main course?”

“Mmmm,” she said, licking the bowl clean.

Thomas took the manila folder from her purse and carried it to the living room. He sat on the big leather couch and called for her to join him. Kathy crawled from the kitchen uncertain as to whether she chose to do this because she knew how it would please him or because it was so much easier than getting up. When she reached him she continued to kneel on the floor near him. There was something... she wanted to ask something but... she couldn’t remember the words for anything, not for anything, now. She giggled nervously and rubbed her cheek against his leg. He stroked her hair for a moment and then opened up the envelope as he said, “I’ll bet you’re eager to learn what secret I’m going to share with you this evening.”

That was it. That was the thing she wanted to ask about but... all she could do was nod and whimper anxiously.

“I can’t tell you just yet. You have to sign the papers first. Then we can move on. Do you understand?”

She nodded. She looked about frantically. She needed to find a pen. She wanted to know his secret. She wanted to know all of his secrets. It was like having an unwrapped present just waiting for her. She had to sign the papers. He held out a pen to her and she put her name on the dotted line, giving her beloved Thomas complete control of her finances and her business dealings. Then she turned to look at him againeager, waiting.

“Good girl, Kathy,” he said. And then, “Now... the first secret I’m going to share with you will come as quite a shock. I free you, Katherine. Are you there? Katherine?”

At first the images flittered by like the melting fragments of a dream on a bright morning. She looked at Thomas waiting for him to tell her whatever he was going to tell her. She was kneeling on the floor playing this ridiculous game of submission with him and he was just... wait a minute. She was kneeling on the floor of her apartment. She had—she just eaten from a bowl on the kitchen floor. She had enjoyed it. Her eyes widened as the details of the past weeks came clear in her mind. She had been behaving so oddly and she had chosen to do so. She had... no. Wait. Son of a bitch.

The secret he was sharing became clearer with each passing moment. He had hypnotized her. He had done something to her on that first night... maybe something in her drink to aid the process. He had planted—she could remember it all now—everything he had said, everything he had done. He had planted triggers. “Crab cakes,” to trigger sexual desire, more each time she heard the word. “Main course,” to empty her mind and erase vocabulary making her more vapid and eager to please with each repetition. “Eyes down,” to make her ashamed of her intelligence willing to give up control. “Shoes off,” to make her instantly suggestible and submissive. He had made her feet insanely sensitive, a secondary point of sexual arousal so that she would be more apt to please him with the objects of his fetish. All of it came clear. He had told her what to do and how to behave and how to please him and then had allowed her to think it was her idea all the way along. And then he had arranged—it was so clear—he had arranged for the brochure to reach her today so that she would decide to have the surgery. And the she had—oh, no. The power of attorney. She had already signed it but -

That didn’t matter. That was okay. She could just tear it up. Noone ever needed to know how she had let herself be controlled, how willing she had been to allow it all to happen. Nobody ever needed to know. “You bastard,” she hissed. “What did you do?”

Thomas chuckled. He had done nothing. “I never made you do anything you didn’t want to do, Katherine,” he said. “I allowed you to be happy and to release the shame you felt about your desires.”

“By turning me into a pliant idiot?” She was seething, struggling to her feet in the high heels that interrupted her balance.

“It’s what you wanted. And it’s what you’re going to want again in a few minutes.” Then, without a hint of command or a touch of doubt he said, “You’ll have an easier time standing up if you take your shoes off.”

He was right, obviously. She took her shoes off and stood, lost for a moment in the soft, comforting sensation of the carpet against her stocking feet. She dug her toes into the weave enjoying the sensual tingle.

“Isn’t that better, Kathy?” He asked. “Weren’t you happier during the main course than when you got all angry and mean?”

She struggled to hold on to her anger, she had been... so certain that he had done something wrong he had—

“Don’t glare at me, Kathy, it’ll give you wrinkles. Relax. Eyes down.”

She looked at his shoes, feeling the sweet comfort of the carpet under her feet.

“Good girl,” he said and she felt warmed by his words of approval. She knew she had been angry a minute ago but she couldn’t quite remember why and she felt she really ought to apologize for it. He was so nice to her, so kind and caring and she had somehow just lost it, repaying all that he did for her with rage and tantrums.

“Are you okay now, Kathy?”

“Uh-huh,” she said. She looked directly at him for a moment and her mind went completely empty as she gazed at him. She smiled, feeling light, almost dizzy with adoration. It seemed odd to her that she was standing here, just staring at him sitting on the couch there. Surely there was something she should do or... say. Why did she have so much trouble finding words when she looked at him? When had she become so completely comfortable in the Kathy persona?

She had shed the pretense for a minute, she knew, just a little while ago. She had returned to her Katherine state. But that had been no fun. She had just been all angry and serious. It was much nicer to be Kathy than Katherine. She toyed with the seams of her skirt and twisted her hips back and forth a bit, feeling the way the fabric brushed against her. For a moment she thought about asking him whether he was going to like her more with big breasts, but then she remembered that she wanted that to be a surprise. She giggled, keeping the secret.

“So,” Thomas said. “Now you’ve learned my first secret.”

She tilted her head to the side, trying to remember what she might’ve learned that would be his secret. She considered asking him what it had been, but words were so hard to find. She licked her lips slowly and he stared as she did this so she repeated the action enjoying the effect it had on him.

“It’s time for you to learn my big shameful secret, Kathy. Do you remember how much shame your desires brought you before I freed you of that?”

Remembering, her eyes dropped to the floor once again. Relieved and grateful she allowed herself to melt to her knees and put her head to his knee like an affectionate puppy. She said, “Thank you, Thomas.”

“You’re quite welcome, Honey. You know I would do anything for you. That’s what love like ours is all about, doing anything, giving up anything for one another. Right?”

She nodded.

“I’ve given up my apartment and my job to be here with you, you know. To take care of you and allow you to be your happiest, most beautiful and vapid self. You know that, don’t you?”

Again she nodded, adoring him for all that he did.

“Taking care of you is the main course of my life now. You understand?”

It seemed a very complicated way of saying it, but she nodded nonetheless wanting to please him.

“And now that you’re comfortable, with your shoes off... your shoes off, yes...? So that you are comfortable and can feel the carpet with your toes I want you to relax and imagine... as you see the images on the TV I want you just to relax, Honey, and watch....”

The TV went on and though Thomas kept talking she didn’t really hear what he was saying. The stuff on TV was too interesting, almost hypnotic somehow. It wasn’t the sort of show they usually watched. It was a segment from a talk show... a pretty woman with no arms was telling the host how she did things. She demonstrated brushing her hair with a brush held between her toes and brushing her teeth. As she spoke the little nubs at her shoulders twitched and moved and Kathy found herself imagining, relaxing and imagining what it would be like to be armless. She found herself rubbing her feet on the carpet, feeling the sexual tingle that her feet could bring her now, imagining being unable to touch herself with her fingers, unable to... unable to do anything. She was not nearly as flexible as the woman on television. She would be helpless without arms. She would need to ask Thomas for help with everything. She imagined what it would be like to be dependent, to need him for the simplest tasks. She relaxed and imagined with her shoes off.

She imagined coming out of the Dr’s office tomorrow with her enlarged breasts and no arms. She wondered if that was something a plastic surgeon could do if she asked for it. The papers didn’t take effect for three days. She would have as much money as she needed to offer him if she wanted... wow. She realized she was really planning this. She hadn’t heard much of what Thomas had been saying for some time now, but she had been relaxing with her shoes off, imagining playfully and she was certain, quite certain it would please him.

At the appointed time in the morning Katherine walked into Dr. Koritzkow’s office in her high heeled shoes and her black nylons. She believed herself to be fully in command of her faculties, not Kathy at all, but Katherine, willingly having surgeries performed to please Thomas whom she loved, Thomas of whom she could not stop thinking. She was going to have herself permanently altered for the man who had introduced her to crab cakes (tingle of excitement) and freed her of her shame (she watched the floor as she walked, thinking it was to be sure she didn’t trip). The doctor greeted her and then spoke quietly with his nurse. She excused herself saying that it was time for her to take a lunch break. She left them alone in the office.

Katherine sat down for her consultation and crossed her legs. The doctor’s eyes lingered on them and she heard herself chuckle, not an actual giggle but a far more accepting and positive response that she would expect of herself.

“Alright, Kathy. What were you hoping to have done today?”

Kathy? Surely she had introduced herself as Katherine to the man. Hadn’t she? “I... um...”

“Don’t be ashamed,” the doctor urged her patiently, putting a hand on her knee apparently to comfort her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kathy.”

She was having trouble looking at him. Her heart was pounding with the thought of what she was about to do, how she was about to please Thomas but she could not look at the man who was going to do the work.

“Just empty your mind,” said the well-coached doctor, “and let me know what you want done. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kathy. I do this all the time. This is the main course of my business. Just tell me what you want.”

Kathy tried to find words but none came to her except... “Boobies.” She blurted out gesturing to show him the size and then, as she began to giggle, “And little... um... nubs.”

“Show me,” the doctor said and with her left hand she pointed to a place on her upper right arm and with her right hand pointed to the same place on her upper left.

There was a word for that... for cutting them off... but she couldn’t remember it. She made a chopping gesture and said, “There. Just... gone.”

“This is what you want?”

She nodded.

“You will sign a release and write me a check and then we well step into the operating theatre.” It was a simple statement of fact. And it was true.

After three days of heavy sedation and powerful analgesics Kathy had the nurse drive her home. She had the nurse dress her and nearly reached orgasm when the woman pulled her black nylons on for her over her sensitive, sensitive feet. Then nurse put her into her black, six inch heels and said, “Are you certain?” before she buckled the straps at her ankles for her.

Even in the short-sleeved blouse, her arms did not protrude at all. When she moved them, the tiny bandaged nubs made the sleeves wiggle a little bit. Her breasts, large now and very sexy, gave her body a new balance. She had to let her butt ride out a bit to walk properly even when she wasn’t in the high heels.

The doctor had been very nice to her, checking in several times a day and talking to her about who-knew-what each time. He seemed to say the same things over and over again.

Maybe the drugs had been a particularly strong combination but she found herself less and less able to think clearly. Even simple words escaped her much of the time. It felt like ages since she had seen Thomas.

He was not home when the Nurse worked the key in the lock for her and let her in. The woman asked if she’d like her to wait, but Kathy sent her away.

She wanted to be alone with Thomas but failing that, she just wanted to be alone. She was incredibly horny. She wanted to touch herself. She felt her little arms twitch at the thought. She wanted to take her shoes off and feel her feet in the rich carpeting but she had told the nurse to fasten the buckles. She couldn’t take them off on her own.

She went to the full-length mirror and tried to look at herself. Her eyes felt heavy and she studied the floor in front of her. She wondered if that was another effect of the drug. She wondered if at some level she was afraid to look. She listened to the sound of her breath and emptied her mind. She raised her eyes and saw herself fully, the most beautiful, sexy woman she had ever seen. Her head tilted to the side in a kind of mindless appraisal. Her calves had the perfect curve, just as Thomas always said. She took in the enormous bosom and reached instinctively to adjust the position of her large, round breasts but the only real action was a twitching of the short sleeves that stuck out from her shoulders.

The doctor had said that her little arms were no bigger than crab cakes. It seemed an odd thing to say, but somehow the phrase filled her with delight. She tingled. She looked around for something to rub against.

Then she heard the sound of the keys in the door and as quickly as she could walk in the high heels and her new body she went to meet the man who would be her caretaker, the man who controlled her money, her mind and her body.