The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Slob was a little anxious about Tracy and Julie and he was quite relieved when Rita McGiven let him know that they were safely back from the States. The girls had picked up Kirsty and Suzanne’s luggage and returned it to him for checking. That took care of a tricky loose end. To celebrate their return from America, Rita hosted a little party at which Kirsty and Suzanne were obliged to pleasure the two prostitutes who had impersonated them and ensured that the Slob could keep them.

Effectively, the two respectable blondes had vanished without a trace. No one would even think to look for them in England. They were his to handle as he pleased... And they had a lot to learn about the meaning of true obedience.

With the last awkward details of Suzanne’s abstraction from society taken care of, the Slob could concentrate on completing her conditioning, a process which proceeded smoothly and satisfactorily so that by the end of October he considered that she had been subjugated every bit as successfully as Kirsty. Now the Slob was able to relax a bit. Both girls could be controlled without the same degree of intense supervision that had been necessary in the early days of their captivity. He could settle into a more normal routine of business and outside engagements, safe in the knowledge that when he returned to the flat he would find two obedient sex slaves waiting to do his bidding!

Every day began with a shower which he shared with both his maids. There was a precise ritual to this morning ablution which the slaves soon learned to follow without repeated instruction. Suzanne would apply a liberal dose of shower gel to her succulent little breasts and then work them into a lather before pressing the softly yielding mounds against the Slob’s blubbery arms and stomach and rubbing his skin clean like a living bar of soap. Meanwhile, Kirsty was expected to wash the Slob’s legs and clean between his toes. The happy owner of the former office workers never tired of the luxury of warm wet slippery girl flesh to toy with in the shower. Although they found his ill kept body quite disgusting, for their own part Kirsty and Suzanne were helpless to suppress an overwhelming arousal in the presence of their master’s body—a constant reminder of the powerful hold he had over them. Knowing this, the Slob exploited his dominance to tease the blonde beauties even more. He had a short high pressure hose connected to the taps, complete with a special control which allowed him to select scalding hot or freezing cold water. From time to time he would aim a sudden jet at breast, buttock or thigh, always provoking quite a pleasing little involuntary wriggle from his chosen victim. The girls learned early, however, not to squeal in protest. The slightest squeak of any kind resulted in a strapping afterwards which was all the more painful for being administered across a wet bottom! Occasionally the Slob would bend one of the girls backwards over the side of the bath and opening her labia with crude fingers, apply a jet of water directly inside her sex. Playing it over the most sensitive skin around her clitoris he could invariably bring her to orgasm within thirty seconds. Initially horrified by their shameful surrender the maids gradually became accustomed to this almost clinical abuse. After a while, indeed, they subconsciously craved the impersonal manipulation and resultant pleasure as a reward despite the fact that their conscious minds continued to find the treatment deeply abhorrent. The Slob was delighted. Their basic training was enough to ensure the maids’ obedience by now, of course, but this special refinement lent extra enthusiasm to their ministrations as they secretly competed to please him. He never actually fucked his maids in the shower (well, not as such). As he explained to Larry...

“I want to get clean in the morning. No point in soiling my prick in a tart’s dirty little honey pot!”

Nevertheless, the Slob’s morning ablutions were always concluded in the same pleasurable way. Suzanne was expected to soap her breasts once again and then kneel between her master’s legs and apply them to his rampant rod. The soft rhythmic pressure of the submissive blonde’s juicy mammary glands soon brought his triumphant organ to complete rigidity and cleansed the swollen flesh all around his cock and balls. And, of course, after that he needed relief from the inevitable sexual pressure. That was Kirsty’s job. Before he came, she would be substituted for her buxom friend and put to work licking the soap away. When he was ready he grasped her hair and pinched her nose, forcing his member deep into the back of her throat and climaxing as he thrust his hips onto her face, often accompanied by a noisy and smelly fart. Kirsty had no option but to swallow every drop of his seed before her tormentor withdrew with a sigh of satisfaction.

Leaving the shower, the girls would towel him dry and then Kirsty would shave him. By now she had been well trained in this personal service and for a few minutes as she carefully scraped the safety razor over his jowls could expect to remain relatively unmolested. Suzanne was always available to entertain his wandering hands whilst the older girl worked. After showering and shaving he was dressed for the day, assisted with each item of clothing by a humble naked maid, still damp from bathing but expected to do her utmost to keep his own garments dry. Once he was dressed he would supervise a shaving session for the girls. The Slob preferred to keep his chattels ‘properly bare’ below their heads. To ensure baby smooth skin he made them rub plenty of foam under one another’s armpits and into one another’s sex before each girl carefully shaved the skin she had prepared. The operation provoked some interesting reactions in the young women, neither of whom could avoid a degree of arousal as their bodies reacted to the stimulation occasioned by such intimate attention. The Slob had no objections to some occasional ineffectual squirming as long as the maids were still for long enough to complete the job properly. However, he was very quick to put a stop to any behaviour that might conclude in an unauthorised orgasm and the girls almost always finished up horny but frustrated, their lesbian conditioning reinforced but not gratified.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair. One of the maids would be designated to prepare it whilst the other was usually assigned the humiliating role of a living footstool, crouching under the table and required to remain perfectly still as the Slob rested his feet on her back and read the morning paper. He expected bacon and eggs with beans and sausages fried perfectly to his taste. It was a difficult job for the unfortunate cook. Still naked she was subjected to spitting fat from the frying pan and if she squealed at all then the strap would follow as surely as night follows day.

His pets were fed only when he had finished eating. By now he had bought a collar for both girls and when he was ready he would fasten each collar carefully around their necks filling two dog bowls with dry cereal and water. On hands and knees the girls were compelled to lap up their food and drink like ‘good little bitches’. Watching their bare bottoms thrust unashamedly into the air, as often as not glowing pink from recent punishment, the Slob always felt an enormously gratifying sense of his total power over the beautiful blondes. They were his now—body and soul—and there was nothing that he could not do with them!

Before he left the flat, the Slob always fitted the girls with their new ‘plastic panties’. The cunning devices weren’t panties at all, in any conventional sense, despite the fact that he called them such. They were carefully moulded transparent triangular wedges of rigid plastic that fitted snugly over the slave girl’s loins. Fastened round their bottoms with thin metal chains the triangles were pulled tightly against their flesh and could not be pulled away or moved unless you had the key to the tiny but strong metal padlocks which held them in place.

“The panties are to prevent you from playing with yourselves or with one another”, he told them sternly on the first occasion he made them wear the special garments. “You’re a pair of wanton little sluts and I can’t trust you not to spend all day diddling your fingers in and out of your twats. You’re here to work for me and I want you concentrating on the jobs I tell you to do—it’s best if I take charge of these little honey pots between your legs, so no self abuse and no rubbing your cunts up against one another unless I say so!”

The plastic really made a very effective chastity belt and the girls were quite unable to stimulate themselves whilst it remained in place. Which was a pity because their conditioning now ensured a continuous low level of arousal and a desire for one another’s bodies, reinforced by constant exposure to near naked flesh. After he left, there were various household chores to perform—washing their master’s clothes, washing the dishes and cleaning the flat. But they also had to do their morning exercises. The Slob had installed an exercise bike and a rowing machine and he insisted that both girls perform a rigorous physical work out to tone their muscles and keep them from running to fat.

“I like to keep my property in good condition”, he joked to his father. There were mileage and stroke counters on the machines and woe betide the girls if they hadn’t done their quota when he came home! It only took one caning for them to realise he meant business and after that they both made strenuous efforts to achieve the targets he set for them.

At lunch time the girls usually had a visit, either from Mack or from Rita McGiven. The Slob had asked Rita if she wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on his playthings from time to time and because she was intrigued by the situation Rita had agreed.

The madam didn’t really like the Slob’s new living arrangements with Kirsty and Suzanne. It wasn’t because she felt at all sorry for the two pretty blonde captives. If the silly floozies had been stupid enough to let the man take control of their bodies then that was just tough luck—after all she’d manipulated other young women into positions where their flesh was simply a manageable resource in her own profession (although none of them had been reduced to anything like the same pitiful state of abject surrender which Kirsty and Suzanne now exhibited). Rita’s real worry was that the Slob might start to run his slave girls as prostitutes and draw trade away from her own tarts. That would be bad for business. She could accept the fact that the Slob might not want to spend as much money on her whores as he used to, so long as he didn’t sell the use of his love toys elsewhere. Fortunately, the Slob seemed anxious to assure Rita that he had no intention of competing with her. He had promised her that he was retaining the girls for ‘his own personal use’.

So Rita checked that the girls had done their morning exercises and filled their bowls with water and food. Sometimes she would have a little ‘training’ session where she would use one of them for her own pleasure, making the hapless young woman lick her sex and bring her to a climax—of course the “panties” were never removed during these encounters so the slave girls never received any relief for their own frustrations.

Their only chance of release came if Mack was the one to visit. Then he might bend a girl over the table, unfasten her chains and “feed the cock some tasty tart sweetmeat” as he like to call his abuses. But the girls never enjoyed these sessions because they were almost always preceded by a bare bottom spanking to “Warm my pudding up for me”. Mack had even taken to making the girls do this job for him, enjoying the sight of Kirsty spanking Suzanne’s ample rump, or Suzanne dishing out the same treatment to her older friend. It was no use either of them pretending to spank their friend but in reality easing up on the blows. Mack had warned them that if they didn’t do a proper job they’d be given a ‘damn good thrashing’. Once again, it had only taken one lesson at the hands of the cane to convince the trembling blondes to co-operate in one another’s punishment.

Suzanne’s breasts were a bountiful source of entertainment for the Slob and his father who employed a variety of demeaning metaphors to refer to them. The poor young woman was often subjected to “juice jug punishment”, in which her mammary glands were squeezed, stretched and spanked. The men were particularly harsh if she failed to ‘use them properly’ round their eager rods.

The afternoons were ‘conditioning time’. The girls took turns to use the apparatus, which enslaved them, one sitting in a chair with the headphones fitted round her ears whilst the other supervised her reinforcement session. Kirsty would brush Suzanne’s hair and lick her breasts as voices told the younger woman how futile it was to disobey and how the Slob must be obeyed at all times. When it was Kirsty’s turn, Suzanne returned the favours of her older friend. Sometimes the blondes would be instructed to use nipple creams and to pinch and pull one another’s tender nubbins to help develop them. The sticky ointment could be rubbed into a pair of breasts whilst voices worked on their owner. This was all quite arousing for the poor young women who were by now well on the way to feeling fully fledged lesbian desires. But of course with the plastic panties in place they had no way of satisfying their carefully instilled cravings and could only long for the Slob to come home and use them.

In the evening, when the Slob returned from work he expected to find a hot meal waiting for him. After tea he’d watch TV or read the paper, sometimes using a convenient maid to suck his cock whilst he fondled her flesh with all the idle authority of an aristocrat playing with a pet puppy. Even then, the “plastic panties” were seldom removed. But finally, it was time for bed and both maids usually joined him, desperate now for the vigorous sex which would follow before he slept. Occasionally he would choose to punish one of the girls by denying her access to the bed and making her watch as he fucked her rival. A night of frustration, sleeping on the floor was at least as effective, he now found, as a dose of the cane.

As winter gave way to spring, the Slob continued to enjoy the services of his luckless slaves, giving them little more thought now than any of his other possessions, except in so far as it amused him to derive new forms of humiliation and degradation for the lovely blonde girls. They were his fuck toys—pure and simple, but there were ways to make money out of them which didn’t involve competing with Rita. The cruel Madam even suggested one such way to the Slob and he was eager to follow up her idea. She lent him the services of Tracy and Julie so that he could make a video for the hard core porn market. Poor Kirsty and Suzanne were obliged to take a staring role in this interesting production which featured a re-enactment of Suzanne’s capture and a wide variety of other scenes in which the blondes’ enslavement and subjugation were shown in graphic and intimate detail. They were made to tongue one another to orgasm for the camera and then to serve as love toys for the two prostitutes, licking the tart’s slits as the foul mouthed young women compared the pleasure they were getting from their captives, dragged them round by the hair and beat their bottoms when they failed to please. It was a very arousing production and sold well on the internet with a few teasing photographs.

There were many ways in which the girls’ owner could enjoy his complete control of their bodies and minds and as time passed he refined his techniques, developing a number of interesting enhancements to the basic mind control methods and introducing some new games. Sometimes, it amused the Slob to be able to speak to his father or his friends in the presence of the girls without letting them listen in on his conversation. It wasn’t because he needed to keep anything secret from them as such—they had no choice but to listen to his gloating and his cruel descriptions of his plans for them on many occasions and there was nothing they could do to escape their conditioning even under such provocation. The reason why the Slob sometimes wanted privacy was simply so that he could surprise his blonde toys with extended plans which needed detailed discussion and which worked best when the girls had no idea what was to happen next. Under deep hypnosis and with long sessions under the headphones, he trained both girls to respond to two special key phrases—“Gobbledegook” and “Pretty Dollys”. On hearing the first of these phrases all further conversation would sound as if it was in a foreign language and would be completely incomprehensible to the captives until they heard the second phrase, at which point they would again understand what was being said around and to them. It was a very clever plan and it made the Slob’s life much easier, allowing him to freely discuss some of the technical details of the mind control strategy with his father in front of the girls without even a remote chance that they might identify a possible plan of escape.

There was a favourite game that the Slob and his father liked to play. The evil fat man called the game “Pop Tarts”. Consider a typical session. Suzanne and Kirsty stand back to back. The girls are dressed identically in backless high-heeled sandals, sheer black self support hosiery and wide studded dog collars which prevent their heads from dropping. They are otherwise naked. The backs of their pretty ankles and legs are touching, their bare bottoms press firmly together and their soft blonde hair cushions their skulls which rest against one another. Suzanne’s left hand reaches behind her back and her fingers splay over Kirsty’s sex but they do not move to stimulate it. Her right arm is bent more awkwardly and reaches back to allow her hand to cup Kirsty’s left breast. Once again, the touch is feather light and the fingers do not stroke or squeeze the tender young flesh. Her friend mirrors Suzanne’s pose. Kirsty’s smaller fingers are in delicate contact with Suzanne’s sex and her plump left mammary gland. And so they stand; a most erotic pair of statues, providing the Slob with much pleasure from the simple placing of their beautiful figures. For more than an hour he lets them wait, watching the ragged flow of frustrated breath passing through their over excited young bodies, the irregular rise and fall of two magnificent pairs of bare bosoms and the slow treacherous hardening of four sweetly sensitive nipples. To prepare them for this game the plastic panties have been worn for two whole days and both girls have endured a period of enforced denial and unresolved stimulation. Now they wait only the command to begin with a mixture of dread and longing. Mack and his son make their bets. They assess the competitors before the race begins, circling them and touching them up, passing crude comments and casual jokes about the naked female flesh, which shrinks from their touch but is ultimately so utterly unable to resist them. On this occasion the Slob chooses to bet on Suzanne and his father goes for Kirsty. Normally, the senior slave is the better bet but the Slob has gambled that Suzanne has improved in her last few games and has learned to control herself better.

“On my mark, then my pretty little pop tarts”, he says at last. “Go!”

At once the girls begin to frig one another with frantic passion. Fingers slip into moist cunts and flick against the sensitive inner skin. Hands squeeze and pull on vulnerable tit flesh and nipples are pinched and twisted. The girls groan in an agony of denial. The object of the game is to make the other young woman climax whilst keeping control of their own body. It is fiendishly hard for the poor blondes, conditioned as they are to lesbian lust, but the penalties for failure are severe and this puts them in a delicious dilemma. The Slob and his father watch them carefully to see “which of the tarts will pop”. For five remarkably erotic minutes the girls struggle against their carefully cultivated desires, a testament both to the power of their conditioning and their fear of losing the contest. At last Suzanne succumbs. In an overflow of ecstasy her body shudders and she cannot disguise the gasp of release.

“Bad girl!", the Slob says, but his father is grinning from ear to ear. For the winner there is the ‘prize’ but for the looser the penalty. The Slob grabs Suzanne and brutally forces her towards the shower. She begins to sob in anticipation of her punishment. He pushes her into the bath and she stumbles as her heels slip on the white enamel. For a moment she thinks she might fall and struggles to regain her balance, slipping and nearly twisting her ankle. Without stopping to remove stockings or shoes the Slob turns on a blast of icy cold water. Suzanne squeaks as it drenches her head and her pretty pink nipples harden like pebbles. Soon the water is cascading over the sheer nylon tights, soaking them through and sticking them to her ripe young thighs. When she is wet and shivering and goose pimples have erupted all over her milky pale skin the Slob drags her out into the living room and orders her to touch her toes. Now it is time for her to face his friend Michael cane! Meanwhile Mack is ready to take the first part of his winnings. The money his son now owes him can be paid later but first there is the matter of a ride on the “lucky” blonde. Mack grins as he orders a shivering Kirsty to strip and remove her dog collar. The docile young woman complies and soon she is completely naked, at which point the Scot bends her backwards over the sofa so that she is ready to be taken. “Now you’ll get a proper man’s climax”, he chuckles enjoying the delicious mixture of fear, loathing and perverse eagerness which Kirsty is now exhibiting. She really is a delicious young woman, the old man thinks. Kirsty’s limbs are a supple golden brown and her treacherous body is oh so very needy! This has been a fine piece of preparation for a splendid fuck to come. How she hates him! And yet how she is desperate to accept his cock inside her, brought to the heady heights of sexual release and suspended in glorious frustration a few moments from orgasm. Mack lowers himself onto her. His craggy face leers at her lissom beauty. Their bodies make an obscene contrast of aging but vigorous hard bone and sinew with lush, yielding and vulnerable young skin. Kirsty cries out as the old man penetrates her. He is forty years her senior and yet he takes her as if he is a teenager—with energy and enthusiasm. Viagra is a wonderful drug. The Slob is taking out his anger on Suzanne. “You really are a stupid slut aren’t you?", he says. “A cold shower isn’t enough for a fat dyke like you. You need something stronger to discourage you from your nasty lesbian tendencies!” The sheer hypocrisy of his remarks would amaze anyone who was capable of exercising rational thought but Suzanne is beyond that. She doesn’t know that she has been conditioned to modify perfectly normal heterosexual responses into an increasing acceptance and desire for her friend’s body, now blossoming into full bi-sexuality. She still feels shame at the thought mixed with her newly cultivated lusts and she almost agrees with the Slob’s cruel assessment of her behaviour. With her bottom still wet and her hair dripping onto the carpet Suzanne is subjected to a vigorous caning. The Slob knows that the cane will be more effective against damp flesh—sharper and more painful. Kirsty can see her friend’s torment as her head is bent backwards over the sofa and the old Scot claws at her tender breasts. Swish, thwack! The cane bites into Suzanne’s soft bottom leaving a long red line of agony. Swish, thwack! Suzanne fights hard not to scream knowing it will only make the punishment worse. Mack is timing his thrusts into Kirsty’s needy body so that each stroke is matched by the stroke of the cane. This cannot last for long. The over stimulated young blonde is too desperate to hold out and by the fourth stroke she rises to meet her rider, grinding her hips urgently into the old man’s loins. Mack comes inside her and their mutual orgasm wracks both bodies for a long few seconds. Swish, thwack! The Slob doesn’t stop beating Suzanne. Soon the voluptuous blonde is decorated with a fiery red network of lines all across her buttocks and Mack has recovered sufficiently to begin a second, slower fucking of her lovely friend. This one too, is timed to match the rhythm of the Slob’s cane. Before the Slob finishes punishing Suzanne his father has spent himself for a second time inside Kirsty and finally withdrawn. Now the Slob needs to unload the boiling contents of his own balls and since Suzanne has ruled herself out of the question, Kirsty must suffice. The Slob doesn’t fuck her in the conventional way—he just needs a cum bucket and Kirsty will have to use her mouth for this. Still bent backwards over the sofa he steps up to her and pinches her nose. Her mouth opens wide and he pushes his swollen prick inside. In moments he comes, using his thumb to squeeze Kirsty’s adam’s apple and force her to swallow his outpourings. She gulps desperately, nearly choking on his seed. He withdraws slowly, smearing her pretty face with the final hardening trails of sperm. “Now then dad”, he says. “How about we get young Kirsty here to make us a bit of supper? And as for that tart Suzanne, she can get on the exercise bike and do ten miles to take some of the fat off her while we eat!” What an enjoyable game “pop tarts” is for the men!

The Slob was not slow to exploit his captives’ natural phobias and to develop them to reinforce his control. Rita and Mack were of great assistance and certainly helped to keep the women in a permanent state of apprehension but the Slob also used Mauler to good effect. Kirsty was terrified of the vicious dog and Suzanne soon learned to fear the Doberman as well. On one particularly memorable evening the Slob made the girls minister to the dog’s engorged little cock, sucking on his balls and swallowing his seed. Throughout the unnatural act, Mauler gave voice to low warning growls of authority which intimidated the poor young women who were obliged to lie face up on the floor to perform their service whilst the big black dog straddled their shoulders and glared menacingly round the room. The dog seemed to understand instinctively what his master required of him and that this service proved his own superiority to the human bitches the Slob had chosen to keep in the flat. Whenever a girl displeased him, he would bend his powerfully muscled jaw down to their bare breasts and deliver a painful and frightening nip which soon had her sucking harder. Mauler would love to have been given free reign to satisfy all his appetites. With Suzanne in particular he wanted to bite more deeply into the tasty tit flesh which he was only tormenting, knowing that her breasts would be a very sweet piece of meat indeed. But he also understood that his master would be angry if he took such a liberty and so he confined himself to threats. The Slob was absolutely delighted. When Mauler howled in ecstasy and triumph as his sperm spurted down Kirsty’s throat he knew he would have to repeat the whole evening and capture it on film to provide extra bonus footage. The blondes were horrified to find the whole abhorrent episode described as a rehearsal and even more horrified when they were made to groom Mauler and kiss his feet before repeating their intimate humiliation for the rerun. The Slob entitled the sequence “A dog keeps his bitches in line” and it was soon being seen around the world.

It was very gratifying for the Slob to reflect on the fact that his pet blondes were not only providing him with a great deal of personal enjoyment but were keeping his house tidy and making money for him at the same time. All in all, the Slob reflected, his domestic arrangements were highly satisfactory...