The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tessi was in her 20s. She was still in the phase of life where it was all enjoyable to her, not some old, tired tedium. Unlike other 20-year series year-olds she knew of, though, she had never been much of a risk-taker, and though she was about at that young adult age which might have been conducive to taking risks, her age had no more transformed her than any other age before it. She was still risk-averse.

This went hand in hand with the fact that Tessi was naturally shy. She found it hard to meet new people, let alone befriend them, and for friends she already had, let alone get close to them.

It was lucky for her, then, that she was already engaged to be married. Her love life was already all sorted out, and no more work or worry ever had to be put into it. She was not simply engaged to someone she had settled for, either. She really loved her fiancé Matt, and she very deeply, and very intensely, wanted to marry him. It was all she thought about sometimes.

They two did have some incompatibilities, but they both navigated them handily; Tessi was only interested in basic vaginal sex in a standard position; and she was not interested in having it often. Her breasts were a comfortable C-cup; nice to look at, and she caught men appreciating them sometimes, but not so obnoxious as to inconvenience her, get in the way, or cause her physical discomfort. Tessi was only her nickname, from Teresa, but she had been called Tessi so long that it had become her de facto true name.

Tessi did have one best friend; so in that sense, friendships and socializing were sorted out for her too, and were not something she needed to work at or worry about anymore either. Her best friend was Nicole, but like Lani, she’d gone by her nickname Lani for so long that it had become her de facto true name, too. She was single, she was blonde, and she was a lesbian. Lani knew some other people through Tessi— Tessi was the lightning rod for Lani’s social life and she didn’t have much of one outside of her.

Lani was pretty enthusiastic about sex, and she enjoyed it very much; she was also more adventurous in it than Tessi was; happier to try more positions and more things that were new that she’d never tried before.

She was exceptionally kind to Tessi; sweeter with her than with everyone she knew, giving Tessi special favor, as if she had special appreciation for her, though Tessi didn’t know why, or what the nature of that appreciation was. Lani always seemed too shy to fully admit the nature of it, so Tessi didn’t worry about it too much. Either she’d get up the courage one day, or she wouldn’t, and Tessi didn’t care. She was pretty indifferent to that aspect of Lani’s personhood; she only really cared about her for the friendship she could get out of her, and the fun that could bring her. It wasn’t anything more serious to her, or more meaningful than that.

Lani was a little chubby, but Tessi didn’t mind that quality in her. It certainly didn’t impede the friendship she wanted to get from her in any way. Her B-cup breasts looked nice with her body type; it wasn’t hard to see why it was easy for Lani to get sex when she wanted it. She was attractive enough, if you were interested in women, but Tessi was not, even remotely, so whatever beauties or appeals that Lani might have possessed, Tessi was blind to them. She didn’t have a palate to appreciate her flavor. She liked men; she was attracted to men, and for her, no woman could ever compete with them.

Tessi also had a friend named Sloane; Lani was friends with her too, only through Tessi, as with most of her social life. At least the two of them had been friends long enough that Tessi had been able to open up Lani’s horizons in this way. Sloane’s hair was long and dark, and it hung in curls, was curly by nature. She had no romantic partner, actually, and she had a pretty attractive body; which Tessi could note aesthetically but in terms of feeling any kind of sexual response to, she was blind and senseless. Though Sloane was currently single, and so, so alone, she had a lot of sexual experience. She had not always been alone; she’d experienced a lot sexually with many partners, though she now by herself. She was in her mid-20s, so in her 20s just like Tessi.

Tessi was also friends with Kaia, who was a brunette, and single— and many years older than her. Kaia was exactly 40 years old. She was a bisexual woman; so she was not blind to the beauties of women, and not immune to feeling sexual feelings in response to seeing them. She was fairly dominant by nature, and her body was perfect, featuring neat, pert B-cup breasts— Tessi could be objective about her too, but felt nothing subjective about it— she was East European by former nationality and current ethnicity, and she always made herself up heavily. She liked lots of drinking and self party drugging.

Together, Lani and Tessi worked in a travel agency, and they got along amazingly. It made going in every day easier, having a coworker that was friendly and kind and fun.

Tessi was happily with Matthew, who also preferred the nickname diminutive of his full name, Matt, and she was not very sexually active. She didn’t think sex was all that important, if she were being honest with herself, and she had no reason not to be. She was not very creatively inspired when it came time to engage in sexual acts; repeating the same boring and trite things, only tolerating the same position and action over and over.

Lani was Tessi’s very best friend; Tessi knew that Lani was a lesbian. She knew, too, just from the way that Lani looked at her, that Lani was attracted to her; but Lani never admitted it to her, so they never talked about it, and it stayed unacknowledged and unaddressed, making it very easy for Tessi to ignore, which Tessi gladly chose to do.

The travel agency that employed them both was very small, as far as travel agencies went. Their boss there was Kaia; Kaia had, earlier in her life, lived in Poland, and that was where she came from. In her earlier days, when she had still lived there, Kaia had been an erotic model; so now she was a former one. She’d moved away, and opened the travel agency, once she’d reached the end of her erotic career.

Kaia was pretty interested in Lani it seemed, and eager in all things concerning her, and in her interactions with her too. She gave her special treatment, and around the office treated her very well indeed. If Lani wanted a vacation, she got it, with absolutely no difficulties. On a regular basis, Lani also received salary increases. And on this occasions where Lani made mistakes in the course of her work, these would always be overlooked by Kaia.

Kaia was a very different boss to Tessi than she was to Lani. She seemed to realize that Lani was attracted to Tessi, though neither Lani or Tessi had formally acknowledged this to each other, and she seemed to resent this. Tessi felt this was the core reason Kaia so frequently penalized her— Tessi got in constant trouble with Kaia, and she worked for significantly less money than Lani did. This annoyed Tessi, but she was too shy to stick up for herself in the face of this kind of treatment and this kind of playing favorites.

Around the office, at the travel agency, they lately had a new hire, Sloane. Sloane was only interested in men— straighter than an arrow, like Tessi— but Kaia also seemed interested in her, nonetheless, the same as she was with Lani. Tessi thought this kind of interest was why Kaia treated both Lani, and now Sloane, so well, and so much better than her. For whatever reason Kaia didn’t want her, didn’t like her, so gave her no good treatment.

Tessi didn’t like Sloane. She’d known of her before she ever became her coworker— once, Matthew had been interested in her romantically, though he hadn’t been able to actually get with her. Sloane knew Tessi didn’t like her— why.

Because Sloane knew that Tessi didn’t like her, and because Sloane knew why, she tended to treat Tessi pretty badly. She teased her mercilessly. She clearly liked teasing Tessi. So she often asked her about Matthew, and sent him her regards through Tessi— and this annoyed Tessi far beyond what she could cope with. But she always tried not to let this show.

She tried not to let this show, even when Sloane was mocking Tessi over and over again for the fact that Sloane did have that prior history with knowing Tessi’s fiancé; knowing Matthew. Tessi didn’t like it, but she didn’t have any redress either. Especially because Sloane was favored of Kaia.

At least Tessi knew what to expect from her work, even if parts of it were unpleasant for her. At least she got along with Lani, anyway— at least she had her best friend to work with, her best friend to see every day and spend time with. It made up for Kaia being a jerk. It made up for Sloane being a jerk.

Things went on in their way for a while; then one Friday afternoon, as the day was winding down, Kaia called all three of her employees away from their work into her office.

It was just before the day was over. Once they’d all gone in, Kaia smiled at them.

“I’ve got a surprise for you all. Thanks for coming in,” she told them; she spent most of her time looking at either Lani or Sloane; clearly her eyes lingered on them, clearly, she was checking them out. Tessi, as usual was an ignored afterthought. This was better than being a target for active cruelty, which was her other alternative.

“I wanted to tell you all about a new resort,” Kaia said. “It’s called the LF Hotel Resort— and they’ve just opened up.”

Kaia spoke on, conveying further information. She, and the three of them, making four in total, were all invited to an information weekend at this new hotel resort. However, they would need to depart immediately after work— which was in short minutes.

Kaia did not share with her employees that the ‘LF’ in ‘LF’ resort signified ‘Lesbian Female Fetish.’

The information had come rapidly, and Tessi had been partly tuning it out— but Kaia began speaking with greater deliberation, clearly trying to make the three of them focus on what she was saying.

“I’ve got some contracts here, and there’s a bus scheduled to come to our office today, as soon as shift as over. If you sign, you can all go stay at the hotel this weekend for free. Your expenses will be completely covered.”

Tessi, Lani and Sloane were all thrilled, but also concerned about having to depart immediately.

Tessi was surprised by this offer— especially because end of shift wasn’t that long from where they already were. It was 4 pm already; there was only an hour left until they all would have usually gone home. What kind of arrangement was this, that a bus was going to come and take them away immediately after work? And why had Kaia waited until so late in the day to tell them about it?

Both Lani and Sloane looked intrigued by Kaia’s offer of a free hotel stay; but Tessi’s questions remained. She spoke them.

“Kaia,” she said, and Kaia looked at her in annoyance, as if she would have rather continued forgetting that Tessi had been there. “Can we go home and get some of our things before we go? I don’t have anything with me, and I’d really like to get some of my own stuff if I’m going to be spending the weekend away.”

Lani and Sloane had clearly not thought of this themselves, but as soon as Tessi said it, they looked like they agreed with her. “Yeah,” Lani said. “Is there time for us to do that?”

Sloane nodded her agreement too, though she didn’t speak.

Though they had not all said the words, they had all expressed “We’d like to go home and get some things,” together just by their reactions, silent or not.

Kaia looked annoyed, again, but seemed to keep herself calm. “No, it’s very important you all ride the scheduled bus that will be arriving in an hour. It will help you all relax and prepare for your fun weekend. Besides, you don’t need to worry about getting your own stuff. The LF Hotel and Resort will provide everything that you need.”

The other two looked relieved, but Tessi still felt hesitant. It was all just seeming so weird to her still; she opened her mouth to protest again, but Kaia raised a comforting hand. “Everything will be taken care of,” she assured them. “You don’t have to worry.”

This had prevented Tessi’s protestation; she couldn’t seem to make herself protest again.

All three of them now having fallen silent, Kaia pushed three contracts across her desk, lining each one up in front of the employee sitting in her chair.

“If you all want to go, you have to sign your contracts first,” Kaia said. “You should hurry up and sign now so that you’ll all have time to finish up what needs finishing before the bus arrives.”

Then Kaia placed one pen on each contract.

She’d given all three of them, her employees, the hotel’s contract; clearly, from what she’d said and done, it was necessary for them they to sign.

Tessi leaned forward in her chair and scrutinized the contract she’d been offered. Immediately, she noted to herself that the font on the contract was much too small to read; it was definitely too small to decipher. It looked strange, too; like weird symbols. Sarcastically, Tessi thought to herself that it seemed like something very legal and very aboveboard-professional.

But Kaia had said it was the only way to get to go on that weekend, so, with a sigh, Tessi picked up her pen and began signing her signature. Lani and Sloane had already signed.

All three of them had signed anyway, without knowing what the contract contained.

Kaia smiled. “I’ll take care of getting these where they need to go.” She took all three contract stacks and pilled them on each other, then turned the large pile up, so that the base of all pages hit together when she smacked the pile on her desk to make them even. “You all go worry about finish your day up.”

This they did; it was 4:15 pm by this point, and there was a lot to get settled. The last 45 minutes went fast. Then together, the four women, Tessi, Lani, Sloane and Kaia went outside. And at 5 pm, all three employees were standing there, and Kaia was with them too. Just then, the small shuttle bus was pulling up in front of the travel agency. The bus stopped; and the doors to it opened.

Tessi wanted to let Matthew know she was going; she said so. “I should call my fiancé, Matt.” She felt a little glow inside— she liked to say the word ‘fiancé’ at any opportunity she got. She was still so happy to be engaged. “To let him know where I’m going this weekend; and that I’ll be away.”

But Kaia shook her head. “Call him later. Do it after the bus leaves— Don’t call him now,” Kaia urged.

Tessi, Lani and Sloane all ascended the steps to the bus and got on it all together.

When Tessi had mounted the bus, she was better able to see what was inside. There were five other women already there, Marcela, Brigid, Rowen, Bella, and Cybill. They were all employees of other travel agencies, colleagues of Tessi, Lani and Sloane from other agencies; and they were smiling dopey, vacant smiles, which spotted their lips with dewy drool. Some kind of music was playing that set Tessi at immediate ease; all the employees were women. The only man on the bus was the bus driver, and he sat at that front, in a blocked in soundproof box. Tessi determined it was soundproofed because she tried getting his attention by knocking on it with her fist, but he never paid attention to her.

Tessi looked back at the other women already on the bus who she recognized; Lani seemed to recognize them too, and the two of them waved their recognition to the women; but the women seemed lost in their own world.

Tessi sat down next to Nicole further back in the bus; and Sloane sat down by herself further forward.

Once Tessi was sitting down, she immediately tried contacting Matthew— but her phone had no network connection, so it couldn’t place the call.

What surprised Tessi most was that there was some part of her that didn’t even want to call Matthew anymore. She worried that even if she had had network connection, she would have still failed in placing the call, even if she had been technically able to do it. There was some part of her that felt so detached from the rest of her. In that part, she knew she needed to call Matt, that she should keep trying to do it, but ultimately, she just didn’t care. That part seemed more interested in preventing her from making the call— every time she tried again, it wanted to keep her from doing it… it wouldn’t be so bad to give up making the call… it wasn’t even working, anyway.

Tessi’s eyes wandered out the window. It was only then she realized that Kaia had not got on the bus. A limousine had pulled up behind, and this was what Kaia got into, before it sped away. It had pulled up and picked her up, Tessi thought again, through a fog— Kaia’s limousine ride filled her skepticism. Why did Kaia get a limousine ride while she and the others had to ride a shuttle bus? Why hadn’t Kaia ridden in the shuttle bus with them?

But the bus set off, full of happy women.

The five who had already been onboard, Marcela, Brigid, Rowen, Bella and Cybill did seem happy— and they all also still had that blank look on their faces, as well their weird, dumb smiles.

None of them had spoken, or otherwise reacted to Tessi, Lani and Sloane’s arrival. They were all staring out into an invisible void.

Tessi realized again that the bus driver was sitting in his separate cabin; this cabin was secured by glass. She had seemed to forget that for a moment— now she remembered again.

But remembering caused Tessi to become even more skeptical. Her colleagues seemed to notice this skeptical look on her face, Lani, beside her— and Sloane had turned back to look at her— and they both became visibly annoyed; even thinking that Tessi doubted was clearly annoying them.

The bus drove, and when that happened, that loud, monotone melody, quite boring— began sounding out over the loudspeakers that were placed throughout the bus even more obnoxiously.

This shocked Tessi, Lani and Sloane all— and when the shock had passed, annoyed them. The melody was odd, and haunting… and Sloane, upon fully hearing it, seemed to catch on it, unable to progress past it; she froze where she was sitting, her face going blank. Even from a few seat back, Tessi and Lani could see that.

So Tessi and Lani called out to the bus driver for help— but he did not react; his cabin was soundproofed, after all— that had been Tessi’s guess before, and now it was her certainty.

Lani, next, was lured under by the bizarre melody. Tessi noticed this, and shook her friend, who had gone impassive. But Lani did not react— she only looked out into space, which set a panic going in Tessi. The music seemed to be getting louder and louder inside of her head. She thought she could hear a voice in the background of it— a female voice, seductive, whispering to her that she must calm down.

She told herself no— she was imagining it— but as the music became louder still, she shook her head. No, she was certain there was a voice in what she heard— and if it said things, it said things she understood deeply, but couldn’t think about. She needed to relax; she needed to be happy. She needed to relax and then relax more, relax and relax deeper.

The heavy sleepiness was alarming to her, and it dragged her down, and then further down; she had been perfectly alert before, but she wasn’t anymore—she called out to the driver in alarm again, but he still couldn’t hear her— Tessi gave up, and figured he needed to focus on driving. This was not before, in her panic, taking one of her shoes off and throwing it at his soundproof box; but even the striking of this did not draw his attention, so at this point Tessi well and truly gave up.

Slowly, slowly the panic began to seep out of her, and the music came in to replace it. When the music came, it brought relaxation with it; the steady falling and rising of her chest. The music told her other things— told her to be happy, that she wanted to smile; told her that the relaxation made her happy, told her that the relaxation made her body feel good, better than it had ever felt and she wanted to feel more, and to relax more so she could.

Tessi felt a smile quietly come onto her face; she’d forgotten she was even sitting next to her friend, and forgot that she was supposed to call her husband. Forgot where she was going, forgot that she was even a person, forgot she was anything beyond a smile sitting there full of good, happy relaxed feelings and drooling them out in strings of dew.

But something in Tessi pushed back; pushed back forcefully, and Tessi’s mind resurfaced.

Feeling confused, Tessi became even more panicked. The panic had all drained out to become replaced by relaxation; now all of it had returned, and increased. She began to cry; all her fellow passengers were sitting around her in trances.

She looked at Lani— she had gone so far away that, unconsciously, she had let a long drop of saliva hang from her mouth.

Bit by bit, the voice hidden within the music took over Tessi’s thoughts.

Her resistance to it weakened, then weakened more, until she too was in a trance of her own. Completely thoughtless, wearing a blank look on her face, as she sat there in the bus with the others.

The bus stopped again, and picked up two more women, so there were ten of them on the bus in total. The bus had picked up Ramona and Valerie, who also worked at local travel agencies.

But Tessi, Sloane and Lani didn’t even notice.

In Tessi’s case, she didn’t even notice the bus had stopped. She had noticed nothing that happened, failed to notice, even though she sat by the window in the bus seat she shared with Lani; she failed to notice all the scenery streaking past, failed to notice that she was not alone; failed to notice her existence, and everything else. She was just happy.

Slightly later, the evening had come. The limousine that Kaia was sitting in, with one other colleagues of hers, arrived at the Lesbian Female Fetish Hotel.

On the way, they had all emptied a bottle of champagne, and now the two of them were led into the hotel’s VIP area.

The sexy employees of the hotel were all waiting there, dressed scantily as if they might be planning to star in a pornography shoot. They were that scandalously attired; all of them were in fetish dress that showed off their very substantial breasts, and almost nuded them.

They had, also, an air of thirst for service which should have been contradicted, but was not, by their equal air of natural dominance. Somehow they could be completely servile and completely dominant at once, while dressing as if they were on a porn set— and their minds found no inherent contradiction in this.

That amused Kaia.

The employees led the two women, Kaia and her colleague, along with five other managers of local travel agencies, through the hotel’s premium area.

“Your employees who will be arriving by bus all believe they’re on an information trip,” one employee explained to them. “But really, they are being prepared for our Saturday evening auction, when they will be auctioned off to you, our VIP guests, for the rest of the weekend. Would you all like a tour of the hotel?”

Kaia and the others agreed, so the one employee who had spoken up led them off from the other slaves in the premium area to take them all off on said tour of the hotel.

The different varieties of love slaves were then introduced to the group of VIPs. There were thoughtless drones, mindless bimbos with huge breasts and huge asses, adult babies who behaved as though they were completely infantilized but licked pussy for food.

There were dominatrixes, slaves, human cows with no minds who gave milk, milk which had an LSD effect on any drinker and led to endless orgasms. There was simply everything that any of the VIPs’ bleak hearts could desire.

Kaia and her colleagues were still being shown through the hotel, and as they walked, they passed a woman.

“This is our in-house Hucow,” the tour guide explained to them. “She gives milk all hours of the day, and the hotel uses her milk in the cocktails we serve to non-VIP guests.”

Kaia looked at the Hucow in derision; she was laying down across two bars; her breasts hung down between them, and her chin rested on the front bar. She wore a cowring through her nose— and her forehead had been inscribed with a number; the top of her head had been replaced by a dome, through which her brain, shrunken though it was, could be seen. Her eyes were completely white— and the nipples of each huge, swollen breast were attached to milkers which seemed to suck constantly.

Kaia could see, also, that the Hucow had both her holes plugged— a dildo in her pussy, a dildo in her ass, and they pumped her constantly, all in time with the suction on her breasts.

The Hucow only drooled; her eyes were completely white with no pupils; they had turned up into her head and only the ghost of them could be seen just barely below the center of each top eyelid. Her arms were up, resting on her back, and bound together there, further forcing the top of her body into an uncomfortable position.

Kaia looked over the Hucow again as the guide spoke once more.

“As I was saying, the milk it gives is used to prepare the cocktails which we offer to our guests with pink wristbands, our non-VIPs. That milk contains hypnotic components. It is completely thoughtless, our Hucow, but we keep it fucked constantly by those two dildos,” the guide said, indicating the dildo that was in the Hucow’s pussy— and the dildo that was in the Hucow’s ass; both of which Kaia had already noticed.

Kaia looked over the Hucow once more, still regarding her with derision; “Pathetic, useless, dumb thing,” she commented, derogatorily. She gave the Hucow a kick in the side, though she had to swing her leg up far to manage it; the Hucow’s dumb dull eyes never even registered that it had happened. The other colleagues Kaia was with gave small smiles and nods of agreement, but said nothing similarly derogatory. As if they felt Kaia had perhaps gone a little too far.

But Kaia had no regrets about doing it. She’d had absolutely no issue doing it, because the hucow was so far below her. She knew there was no way she’d ever be in the Hucow’s position; she’d never be anything like it, so open mockery of it came naturally to her.

After all these slave introductions were completed, Kaia, her colleagues and their guide stopped at the front desk, and their guide became their deskclerk.

“Here are your blue wristbands,” the deskclerk told Kaia and her colleagues, after she’d checked them in. The VIP guests were given their blue wristbands— the deskclerk passed them across the desk, and the few of them took their wristbands and put them on. “These will give you access to the VIP areas of the hotel,” the deskclerk continued speaking. “You can only get into certain areas if you’re wearing them. They will give you full access to everything that happens within the hotel.”

Kaia felt happy with the hotel in general— felt happy to be there, happy with all the options available to her, and she chose a dumb, sexy bimbo and took her with her to her room for the night.

Late in the evening, the bus pulled up to the hotel, finally arriving. The ten travel agency employees were still inside, and still entranced. Tessi, Lani, Sloane, Marcela, Brigid, Rowen, Bella, Cybill, Ramona and Valerie. All still inside, and still entranced.

When the bus stopped, one of the sexily-clad hotel employees entered it. “Please follow me,” she instructed them; and the ten travel agency employees from varying agencies all filed off, following the employee out.

When Tessi stepped out of the bus, she looked up at the hotel sign; she saw what LF had stood for. This was ‘the Lesbian Female Fetish’ Hotel— that was the ‘LF,’ but Tessi was still feeling so dazed by... whatever had just happened on the bus... that she couldn’t quite make herself angry, or disgusted. None of this thought-process, reduced and laborious as it was, had ever shown on Tessi’s face. Each of the ten woman all wore the same look, a monotonous look. And they walked without emotion, following the employee into the hotel.

By the time Tessi and the others had come into the hotel lobby, Kaia and the others were long gone without any trace. The ten of them were led up to the reception desk, and one after the other, they all got checked in.

Once this was done, each one of the ten received a pink wristband.

“These are your wristbands,” a deskclerk said; she looked like she’d just started her shift, come on new... she had a bit of that fresh energy about her. She had a plunging neckline to her shirt; her breasts were impressively big. “They’ll help you get where you need to be around the hotel. They give you restricted access to certain areas,” she further explained to the group of them. “But to start, you can use the pool, the sauna, the cocktail bar and other amenities like that tomorrow on Saturday, as you like. Their most important function is to designate you as our hotel guests. And we’ve got a big auction for our VIPs tomorrow, Saturday night; as guests of our hotel, you’ll all of course be allowed to attend and we hope you’ll enjoy it. Actually, you won’t want to miss it, so keep your evenings free tomorrow.”

Tessi put the pink wristband on that she’d been offered, and the other nine girls down the counter put their wristbands on also.

“We’ll take you each to your rooms, now,” the deskclerk said, fetching multiple keys at once into her hands; she came out from behind the desk, and took the group all off together, walking them one at a time to their rooms, giving them their keys, letting them in. In this way, each one of the group that had rode the bus together were led back to their rooms, let in and left there— and Tessi was the last one shown to hers.

Everyone had gone to their room, deep in a trance.

Each woman found the same thing when they reached their room. It was small— it had a double bed and a small table with a chair, and nothing else.

There was no television in the room; and the lighting was warm and red. The room had no windows, either. It did have a small bathroom adjoining— with attached toilet, sink and shower; at the same time, each woman was thinking the same thing; they all wanted a shower, after what had felt like such a long bus ride... as if this decision had been decided for them, and not by themselves.

In fact, it had.

Before each of the ten ladies went to their rooms, the receptionist had instructed them to take off their clothes and take a shower. She had also told them could simply place their clothes on the floor; they would be put away afterwards and they would never have to worry about putting them away themselves. She’d also told them that hotel clothing would be provided.

All ten ladies, once in their rooms, undressed without thinking about it, and went into their showers.

Once each of the ten was in the shower, they saw that the shower they were standing in was a little abnormal. There was a shower nozzle overhead, like normal, but there was a second one, further down, at about hip level.

But, all still entranced, none of them worried about this.

They all found the water to be pleasantly warm; both from the showerhead above and from the showerhead which provided water from below. This lower showerhead was exactly lined up, level with each woman’s most intimate place— aiming at her vagina— and this showerhead was doubled, also, behind each showering woman— aiming at her ass.

The water came pouring out of the nozzle, and it poured directly between each woman’s pussy lips; it was only then that each woman realized the presence of the nozzle at hip level on the back wall of the shower— the water was pouring in, pounding against pussyflesh, but at the same time, it was coming out of the back nozzle, and connecting to their holes of their anuses.

The water was already running— it was too late.Because of these particular jets, and the streams they sent out constantly, an orgasm began to build itself slowly up… a feeling, deep inside each woman; each woman found the feeling was most welcome.

For nine of the ten women, when each of them felt the water hitting them directly in the erotic way that it was, it only took a few sustained moments of the water pelting them before each one of them was clenching down in orgasm.

When orgasm had culminated in each woman, each woman woke from her trance, but as they all stood there, wondering what had happened, and how they even came to be there to begin with, a weird light appeared in each of their showers.

It had been one thing for the water to bring them to orgasm, a lot of the women felt. Or at least, the women couldn’t be sure that they had come— but they imagined that they had because they felt their cunts still clenching between their legs. To be coaxed by the water into pleasure had been acceptable to them.

But now, as the lights started strobing in the shower, answering their wondering, questioning thoughts, many of the women felt outright that it was unfair— it was not something they wanted, it was not something they wanted to go along with or accept.

The lights flashed in rainbow colors; and when the water struck soap and set soap bubbles rising up, rainbows seemed to streak them and make them rainbow streaked; and when rainbow lights struck off of rainbow streaked bubbles, the image was almost blinding.

There was nowhere that it was possible to look away; each of the nine women found the same thing; every corner of the shower a set of lights might turn to contained the strobing; anywhere one looked was just one more point at which the light show could enter into the pair of watching eyes, and reach up into the brain behind it.

Each woman understood, however drowsily— this was brainwashing. Their bodies were being washed clean, and so were their minds; and they all felt a variety of ways about them. Several of them gave in almost immediately when they realized what was happening. For those few, the unconscious memory of the peace of orgasm, as experienced moments earlier, was simply, too close— and the slightly earlier memory of sitting in the shuttle bus and being entranced was close, too, and those women just wanted to return to those feelings; so they let their eyes go wide, their minds shut off, and allowed the programming of the lights to completely take them over.

A few of the women fought for a few moments, and then gave in, as well. Two more held out even longer before collapse— but only woman seriously put up a fight, and that woman was Ramona.

She had gone through the process on the bus, and the process in the first part of the shower the same as the others had. But now, Ramona was fully aware— understood the shower was trying to brainwash her, and understood she didn’t want that to happen to her.

No, she told herself— she would not be brainwashed by a shower, a simple, automated mechanical machine. Her mind was stronger than something automated; she stood resolutely in place in her shower, staring defiantly back at the light show playing over her, as if telling it, as if it could understand— No, you will not hypnotize me. No, I will not surrender— I will never surrender, I will never give in, you will never defeat me.

The shower kept playing its lights, never knowing or caring that Ramona had made this kind of stand to it.

But she was keeping grasp of her sanity; she was wide-eyed, and certain she could look at the lights and not be affected. She kept telling herself that. She kept telling the shower that, just in the way she was standing in it. She shouted as loudly as she could, with the positioning of her body, that she could withstand this, she could be better than this, she could defeat this.

But she was not immune to the lights as she thought. They washed her mind the same as the others— she was hypnotized and happy soon after.

All the ladies simply left their bathrooms to go to bed, without even drying themselves off or looking for clean laundry to wear.

The music, monotonously droning music, which had also been played on the bus, was heard again. It put the women into an even deeper trance; and finally caused them to fall asleep.

During this sleep, the subliminal messages had an even better chance to penetrate the minds of these ladies. They slept, and were told that everything at the hotel was normal… told that they would ignore the ladies engaged in sex acts all over it.

This had happened to nine of the ten, except for one woman among that nine. That one woman was Tessi— she did not even try to defend herself, but instead completely gave herself over to trance, so it was not necessary for anything to deepen her or wear her away. She was already as deep and as far into it as she could go.

However, when the tenth woman, Sloane, entered her hotel room for the first time, she woke from her own trance.

Sloane also took a shower, but she successfully avoided the jets which were intimately placed, in horror, and then left the room— before any hypnotic lights could appear to her.

When she came out of the shower, she realized there was no clean laundry ready for her to wear.

Sloane decided she would put her old underwear back on first, but she would later ask for a replacement at reception in the morning.

When the bizarre music started to play, Friday night, when all the ten women were lying in bed, Sloane picked up her phone, and put her headphones on to listen to her own personal music library. She fell asleep only hearing her own music— the subliminals in the music played by the hotel unable to reach her, her mind protected from having to take them in.

The following morning, the ladies with pink wristbands woke up feeling extremely relaxed; their thoughts had been manipulated without their knowledge.

They were all behaving normally, to the extent it was possible, but they were all also very calm; and they took everything in calmly, as if what was happening to them were normal.

Clothing was available for the naked women— short and tight bikinis.

These were something Tessi and Lani would never have worn, because of their body types, but Tessi put it on without any resistance and then left the room, heading instead for the breakfast area.

She and the eight other women had all woke up hungry; and Tessi didn’t know, but they were all at the same time heading for the breakfast area.

When Sloane, the tenth woman, woke up, she was once again shocked. Her phone had disappeared— and only a bikini, the skimpiest one she’d ever seen, was there in her room. It was clearly what she was expected to wear— it had been laid out for her.

Luckily, she still seemed to be wearing her own underwear— and when she looked, she found her t-shirt too; she’d accidentally put it in her bed, and it had gotten tangled up in the blankets.

She took off her underwear, since it was expected of her, and put on the bikini provided. But she also put her t-shirt on, overtop of it.

She left the room, moving towards the hotel’s reception area. Once at reception, she complained to the reception girl angrily, shouting about her missing clothes, and her missing phone— but despite her anger, the sexily dressed employee kept her calm. “Come back and see me after breakfast,” she told her. “I have no time for this now; we have many travelers arriving currently. But I promise you the problem will be resolved.”

Frustrated, but seeing that no help would be offered her, Sloane gave up on the reception clerk. She was noticing something else now— delicious breakfast smells were wafting over to where she was standing, and she moved in the direction of the breakfast room that was nearby, her latent hunger responding to the smell of food.

Sloane walked toward the breakfast room— thinking how scrumptious it looked even from outside of it, thinking that it looked even better than it smelled.

But when she tried to go through the arch that led into the room, there was another staff member there. “I’m sorry,” that staff member said simply. “Only guests with blue wristbands may enter. The breakfast room for the other guests is across the way, off of the cocktail bar,” she explained to Sloane. The staff member would not let her by.

Sloane could make out, from a distance, that Kaia was inside, sitting at a round table with several other women and enjoying her coffee, while simultaneously receiving a foot-massage from a large-chested blonde woman who was sitting at her feet.

So Sloane redirected herself, turning away and going into the simple breakfast room, which was for pink wristbands. All the other nine travel agency employees, wearing their pink wristbands, were sitting there around the room at tables with other hotel staff; the hotel staff had to go about their business— though they were all bimbos and drones, they had tasks to complete, and they were always in pursuit of these goals, but they still needed to eat— they had fuel up first before they could.

The buffet in this breakfast room consisted only of salads and juices. There was no coffee, no bacon, no eggs or other unhealthy things available. Sloane found this breakfast room disappointing in comparison to the other.

She was feeling pretty sullen about this restriction of food. The other breakfast room had had warming trays full of such delicious things; and this room only had little salads, and juices.

Sloane took a juice with a bitter snatching, and went over to the table where Tessi and her other colleague, Lani, were sitting and having their breakfast.

To Sloane, it seemed like the both of them were quite relaxed— at first observation, they actually seemed to be pretty normal. It was their extreme relaxation that was the strangest thing— they were dealing with the situation surrounding them— the bimbos, the drones, dressed scantily or not at all, scattered through the room eating their breakfast— with absolute calm. They weren’t getting upset, either, about the way they themselves were dressed— wearing only tight bikini bras, even as the premium guests could be seen outside the pink wristband breakfast room, walking around in normal clothes.

Sloane pointed this contradiction out to them— but both Tessi and Lani argued back that this state of things was the most natural situation in the world; and no matter what Sloane said, they were friendly with her, smiling— oblivious to the fact that there was anything wrong going on at the hotel, or even directly around them.

Sloane, however, was still unmanipulated by the hotel’s tricks, and she decided to question Tessi more directly. “Have you called your boyfriend yet?” She had vague memories of Tessi saying something about that the day before.

Tessi gave her a very calm look, and when she spoke, her tone was calm too. “My phone has disappeared— I was surprised to realize it, but it doesn’t bother me at all.”

Lani spoke up, though she hadn’t been asked. “My phone is also gone,” she said.

Sloane withdrew her own phone and held it out— it had been surreptitiously returned to her, or she had incorrectly thought that it had disappeared this morning when she’d woken up. “You can use mine,” she told them, in offer, but Tessi shook her head. “It’s not important.”

Sloane frowned, but she had another question to ask. “Do you want to go to reception together, and file a complaint?” —

But Tessi, and Lani, similarly manipulated and victimized, shook their heads. “We’d rather take advantage of the hotel’s amenities.”

Sloane took a turn shaking her head— finding Tessi’s and Lani’s responses ridiculous, but she left them to it, and headed off for reception all alone.

Tessi got up, also, walking off to find something around the hotel to do, and as she was walking, Tessi met Kaia again.

“You’re so pathetic,” Kaia mocked. “You’re my employee, and they’ve manipulated you so much that you don’t even know they’ve done it— and you couldn’t even help it!” She laughed raucously.

But Tessi didn’t understand anything she’d said. Unbothered, she walked away happy. As she walked, she felt her mind fading away, and she lost track of the next few hours. She would not become conscious again until dinner that Saturday evening. When she later became conscious, she would never know that she had afterwards been called up to Kaia’s room, where she’d spent the day, with Kaia, sexually servicing her and never knowing a thing about it.

Tessi arrived in Kaia’s room, and didn’t understand why she was there, or how she had gotten there. She had been in happy, floaty trance until the moment she’d been called, but once she crossed the threshold of the room she’d arrived at, her mind seemed to resurface from the place that it had been, wherever it was.

Inside the room— which Tessi noticed was many, many more times more beautiful and more luxurious than her own room— Tessi recognized Kaia; the memory of meeting her in the hotel hall was large in her mind, and the words Kaia had said finally made sense to Tessi, now she could think again.

Kaia had mocked her— Kaia was responsible for bringing her here, and though Tessi couldn’t remember much else of what had happened before, she knew it hadn’t been good; and she was filled with such deep anger— Kaia was responsible, Kaia should be accountable.

Kaia had one other girl, a ditzy blonde bimbo with huge tits, in the room with her; this bimbo was on one of the two beds— that was unfair too, two beds for one woman, two beds for just Kaia, but nothing could be done about this unfairness.

“I’ve got you now,” Kaia said, slyly, when she saw Tessi had come fully into the room. “Come over and lie down on the free bed,” she instructed.

Tessi didn’t want to go— she was still so full of anger— but her body was beyond her control. When Kaia gave the order, Tessi’s body followed; in her skimpy bikini, it walked her over the bed and laid her out.

Kaia approached with a greedy, and hungry look on her face.

“I hate you,” Tessi spat, thought her body had co-operated. “I’ve always hated you. You’re a terrible boss, and now you’re literally trying to violate me— you’ve violated me by bringing me here, brining all of us here to this horrible place, and you should be ashamed of yourself! You’re disgusting!”

Tessi had worked herself up practically into shouting— into hysterics.

Kaia snapped her fingers.

“We’ll see if we can’t change your mind about all that,” she said.

The blonde bimbo had approached; the second later, Tessi felt that bimbo’s tongue thrust deep in her pussy and lick its way around.

Tessi cried out, and tried to struggle out of the way, but her body stayed static on the bed.

As soon as the pleasure touched her body, it called pleasure conditioning back to her.

Kaia let her be licked for a few moments, during which time Tessi fought back in her mind continuously. She tried harder and harder to get her body to move but it wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let go of the hope of moving her body, of getting out of the position she was in.

Kaia guided her up with a pull; the blonde stopped licking for a moment; Tessi was on all fours, at the edge of the bed, Kaia standing in front— the blonde shifted to start licking Tessi’s clit underneath— and then there was a dildo in her ass.

Something about the penetration shut down her mind, and Tessi walked her hands forward, mindlessly licking at the thing which had been provided for her; Kaia’s pussy. She licked eagerly, she licked impatiently. The pace of her thrusts was determined by the pace of the dildo working in and out of her body; her ass muscles clenched on it, and Tessi moaned and drooled into Kaia’s dripping lubrication, and Tessi only licked harder. It all felt so good she couldn’t even think.

Sloane, having separated from her two colleagues, went on about her day. She went down to reception again as planned— and found it was full of newly arrived guests. Again.

The sexy employee at reception smiled. “Please be patient for a moment,” she asked, “and take a seat at the cocktail bar opposite.”

Reluctantly, Sloane did.

A lady with a blue wristband was already there, drinking a Mai Tai.

The barmaid, who had breasts that were unbelievably large, smiled at her— she was still, in that moment, completely unmanipulated by all their tricks— and spoke again. “What would you like to drink?” The barmaid asked. “All our drinks are free with your stay.”

Sloane checked the time. By her usual standards, it was too early for alcohol, so she also ordered a Mai Tai.

“Sorry,” the barmaid refused. “Guests with pink wristbands can only order from this special menu.”

She placed said menu before her, and Sloane started to read it.

The cocktails listed all had strange names— they were just bizarre— they were called things like ‘Pussylicker,’ and ‘Gigglecolada,’ and ‘Mindmelter.’

Sloane hesitated when reading these strange names— they were downright perverse. There was nothing with a normal name listed, but Sloane was thirsty, so she ultimately decide to order a drink anyway. She was thirsty.

She chose the Mindmelter, and told the barmaid so.

Promptly the barmaid brought her one— she only meant to take a sip, but found it tasted so good that she had downed the entire thing before she’d even noticed. She drank it in, and thought that it tasted strange. It was so sweet— and creamy— sweeter and creamier even than other cream cocktails that Sloane had before tried. The feeling she’d felt on the bus was coming back to her; she was drifting away, far, far away...

Sloane felt the Mindmelter on her tongue again— it was changing her so fast, taking effect so fast, but all time had slowed down to allow her to have this experience.

Fine— time slowing down was to her benefit. It gave her more time to fight back against what was happening in her head.

It was clear, beyond any doubt at all, that the name of the cocktail was accurate. It was trying to melt her mind down; melt it all out, destroy it and leave nothing behind. It wanted to make her empty-headed, take her away from herself, maybe forever, and she was not going to let it.

Sloane made up her mind. No, she wasn’t going to let it.

She could feel it physically working inside her head. There was no doubt— there was no uncertainty. She had complete certainty of what was going in her head— her thoughts, her freedom, her free will was all going; it was melting down... the Mindmelter was like direct heat— her mind was ice and it was all running off moisture when the heat was turned on it.

She tried to hold the thawing water with her hands— it slipped between her fingers and poured away; then she tried to make more ice to replace what had been heated away.

It wanted her gone— this was trying to get rid of her— she rallied herself, she would not be gotten ride of. She belonged in the world— she belonged here— she slammed her hand on the cocktail bar just to feel something, but when she did actually get her body to move, it only went sluggishly, until her hand came to rest against counter surface with absolutely no force at all.

She tried shaking her head— to shake the intruding force in her head out, but this had a similar effect. Her head only turned sluggishly, side to side, side to side; the affect inside her brain was accelerating.

Maybe half of her mind was melted away by now. It made it harder to remember. It made it harder to think; now thinking had become a sluggish chore like slamming a hand or shaking a head had. She was... trying... she was trying to remember... she was trying to remember what she was supposed to be doing... there was something she wanted to do, so badly, and if she could just remember, then maybe she could do it...

She was trying to fight, that was it! Remembering when it had been so hard to do filled her with joy, and it made her perk up in her bar seat at about regular pace. She wanted to fight because she wanted to remain herself. She wanted to hold onto her mind when the Mindmelter was trying to force her to lose it— she wanted to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

There was something inherently despairing in that, and she couldn’t get away from that truth. She was trying to hold something she’d never actually had in her hands; trying to hold something in the aftermath of it already having gone away. The Mindmelter had kept melting her mind all the time; it had slowed her down at the crucial moment so that she would miss the fact that it was already too late; her mind was already a puddle inside her. That didn’t bother her anymore. It only made her smile a wide happy smile. Empty headed felt good. Empty headed felt nice. It was the only way she ever wanted to feel. She never wanted to go back.

In drinking it, Sloane found her negative thoughts all numbing out— then once all her negative thoughts were gone, all her other thoughts went too, and she was only mindless.

She still had enough sense to know she was thirsty. She quickly ordered a second drink, this time choosing the Pussylicker instead, drank it even quicker.

It was creamy, too, like the first one. But it was spiked with some other kind of spice. She enjoyed it.

In drinking this one, Sloane felt a powerful craving for pussy, and she turned to the woman with the blue wristband at the cocktail bar, got down on her knees, and began licking her thirstily, too.

She fought what was happening— but she lost, and went to the room with lady wearing the blue wristband, where she thoughtlessly serviced her.

The two of them, Lani and Sloane, didn’t know it yet— but they would soon be receiving their own form of brainwashing, against which they would not be able to defend… they were already under the influence, though they couldn’t know that either, and that same influence made them not want to fight— made them already prepared to give in, so when they did receive their own forms of sexual brainwashing throughout the day, they would simply accept it.

Lani lay down by the pool, and finally took part in the water gymnastics that were going on.

She and Brigid, both still wearing their pink wristbands, participated, amid several women with blue wristbands. But the gymnastics had a hypnotic effect on them both; the feeling of both leaping and twisting through the water; the sight of other bodies doing the same was lulling, and one movement dragged the eyes of anyone watching to follow another, and another, until it became very easy to get lost entirely.

Finally, both Lani and Brigid had become thoughtless sex slaves for the other ladies at the pool; both in the water, and lounging on the pool’s deck.

The third woman, Marcela, went to the hotel’s fitness area. Several blue wristband women were there, getting their workout. Marcela did a brief bicycle workout of her own, and then went to the public showers.

There were two entrances to the showers— one for guests with blue wristbands, and one for guests with pink wristbands. Marcela went into the pink wristbands’ shower.

Only one other lady was showering there— one of the hotel employees’ sex slaves. She had huge breasts— and the sight of them, covered in soap suds which she smoothed over them— over and over, her nipples peaking out through them; and as she washed her breasts, she moved their flesh, shoving them together, lifting them up, letting them fall. She had quickly put her under a spell.

Marcela felt the shower was too claustrophobic all the sudden. It was too small with only herself and the big-breasted woman; working her boobs through with suds, or working the suds through with her breasts.

She’d been through enough so far that weekend to understand what was happening to her here— this was a true brainwash— the woman would brainwash her boobily, if she didn’t look away. Now was the moment where she needed to tear her eyes away from what was happening— from those hands smoothing and swirling over breastflesh over and over— but her eyes were locked on.

When she saw the woman massaging her breasts with the hot water and the suds, it made her need to obey— it made her crave to obey— and everything felt so soapy, warm and clean in the room— in Marcela’s mind. There was steam all around them, and Marcela felt sweat beading on her skin. She was breathing shallowly; in fear, and arousal both— her eyes only widened, those huge breasts, gathered up on an arm and in one hand before both came away, and let both breasts fall down, jerk, bounce, stand pert and full; then the water hit them and washed the suds down in streams that poured over two erect nipples, then dribbled down to the shower floor— or must have dribbled down to the shower floor, only Marcela couldn’t stop looking at the breasts.

Those tits— she was looking at them, and when she looked, she wanted so badly to obey— she needed someone to obey, a Mistress, anything, anyone who was in front of her, but she was frozen, watching. Silently the breasts told her she needed to be brainwashed— that she should be happy about it— she should be happy about the fact that she was frozen still standing there, despite how warm she felt, because she needed to give them more time to work on her mind. She wasn’t quite fully brainwashed yet— the boobful brainwash needed to take its full effect to make her mind clean and perfect; so it would be ready and worthy to offer up to anyone who wanted it, for whatever they wanted to do with it... so she had to stand there as long as it took, as long as those powerful, brainwashy boobs wanted her to— until her mind was their jelly, and they’d formed into the shape they wanted it to have.

It was making her so horny; she wanted to touch herself, and the boobs told her she could. Her hand found the bud of her clit, and through warm, soapy water that was now touching her— somehow, the boobs had told her to move into the shower across from their owner— and she could see them from even closer, and feel warm heat pounding into her back, running down her front, soap touching her too; that warmth, that heat, that moisture... it all married so well to the lazy, sleepy strokes she gave her own clit...

Marcela became aware of herself— her mind buoyed up by some latent determination... she ripped her hand away from her pussy, told herself she would look away from the boobs... she would leave the shower...

But her eyes found them again— she had never looked away at all. The shower was too warm. It felt too good on her body. Her mind had already been cleaned too much. They told her to start touching herself again, and the thought of disobeying had already been erased from inside her head. She touched as told until told to stop.

Because Marcela was, ultimately, weak-willed. And she was dizzy— and she was aroused. The thick-chested hotel employee led her through a connecting door, into the showering area for the guests with blue wristbands— and she was given to them to have sex with, while remaining in her thoughtless state; one of the blue wristband women even had a strap-on with her, and she affixed it to herself before fucking Sloane with it.

During dinner, the ten women with their pink wristbands were given a special drink; the women didn’t know, as they were drinking it, that it was a narcotic— but it was, and once they had drunk it, it made them all pass unconscious.

When the women regained consciousness, everyone was sitting in very comfortable chairs up on the hotel’s auction stage.

The arms and legs of each woman were joined to their chairs with shackles of steel.

The ten women, who had all been mentally conquered throughout the day, found their sanity returning to them. None of them remembered what had happened to them after they’d arrived at the hotel; but now the ten of them panicked about the shackles that contained them; all ten began to scream, and screech.

But they were joined on the stage by somebody else— a sexy female presenter had stepped up, and she addressed the ladies in a stern voice.

“Stay calm,” she ordered. “Wait.”

But none of the women could be comforted— at that moment, an alarm rang, and a spotlight landed on Tessi and Lani.

All ten women became completely silent— because they were completely shocked; then, suddenly, a machine on both Tessi’s and Lani’s chairs came to life; it had two arm extensions that lined up with each woman’s temples; it did not touch their heads there, but pointed inwards at them with two attachments; which shortly began beaming green energy that came in circular formations straight into their minds.

Both women’s eyes went wide— their minds were being completely wiped.

They knew this intuitively, though it had not had to be explained to them. They knew it because each one could feel their minds emptying. Tessi felt her mind emptying, being wiped clean and blanked out— Lani felt her mind emptying, being wiped clean and blanked out. They had not had to have it explained to them; it was clear just from how they felt as it happened.

But Tessi didn’t want her mind to be wiped; she didn’t know how to fight beaming energy— she could only make a guess because she needed to move fast; she tried to imagine the energy coming into her head; then tried to imagine she was powerful, had absolutely any power at all; and that she was using that power to block those green beams, redirect them, send them back out, stop them from touching her brain cells. She saw herself with a shield, striking the shield against each beam where it tried to come in— saw the green energy bounding off her shield each time, leaving her head— going away. She was safe, staying sane.

But the energy never stopped coming in; and even in imagining herself resist, as if it could mean anything at all, her imagined image was becoming tired; to move and move to each beam of light, only to find there was another coming after it— then another coming after that. Even her effigy figure grew tired out by the unrelenting onslaught; she tried harder to fight, tried to imagine herself moving faster; she jerked hard against her steel bindings, those bindings keeping her to the chair so she couldn’t just get up and run away— but she had receded so far in her mind to fight her battle on an imaginative level that she’d almost completely lost track of her body.

The war was happening in her head, and she tried to fight it there. She imagined herself as someone who would never get tired, who could be as fresh and full of pluck as when she had first tried resisting; but it didn’t work. Actively fighting a mind-wipe was exhausting, and she had pulled back, she was paying attention enough to see what the mind-wipe was saying to her. What it was trying to make her become.

She was meant to be mindless sex-drone, a mindless sex-drone who could be given away and passed around. It was all she had been meant for; all she had ever been meant for, and she had only been kidding herself when she’d imagined herself to be a real person worthy of love and good things, when really all she was meant to be was a victim of mind-wipe, a victim of eradication.

She had been created in the world only to be taken out of it, she had been created in the world only so her personhood could be eradicated from it. It would feel better once it happened. She just had to give in and let it; everything in the world was bending towards it. It was her only option, and everything in the world wanted it to happen to her. Who was she to disagree?

Her little imagined figure was flagging in energy; weakening, and the beaming was only coming harder into her head. She couldn’t protest against her own permanent destruction. She couldn’t stop it. It was what she was meant for. It was all she had ever been meant for.

Tessi felt her eyes go wide; the fight inside her broke; all of this fighting had seemed to take an age, but in reality, even for all her mental struggle, the wiping of her mind had passed in a handful of seconds; now she was only a mindless sex drone, awaiting command.

Lani’s struggle had looked a bit different than Lani. She had not resorted to imagination. She had known her mind was being wiped, too, but instead of imagining herself powerful, or protective, she had simply screamed at the entering energy, screamed in her thoughts. No, she had shouted at it. I won’t become a sex-drone. I won’t become mindless. I won’t become an object that is just for other people to use and do to whatever they like. I won’t! I won’t!

The beam made no sound in her head, but still what it was doing sounded deafening to Lani. And when she screamed her protest, it raised her heart. It made her feel better, for just a moment; she had screamed inside herself loudly enough that it had covered the sound of non-sound that the beaming in created when it did its trick.

She began to believe she could actually win her fight— she began to hope. She had raised her heart enough; she had raised it up high enough. She believed.

But it was at the peak of this hope that first knell of terror came ringing inside her— she’d hoped, she’d believed, and then at that moment had felt more, fresh green energy being beamed into her head. She had fought she had overcome— but then there was only more of it.

It came on and came on, and there was always more, wearing her down. How could she fight it? How could she defeat it? It was all powerful, because it had unlimited time and unlimited resources. She was finite and it was infinite. It could keep coming forever, it would never become tired— it was an automated machine, and she was only human, and she was already withering.

Despairing— how could she keep fighting forever? How much longer could she even keep up what she was already doing? She could feel herself starting to break— she was coming entirely apart, being obliterated in the most violent, the most blinding white explosion, and in the space behind where the pieces were blown away from there was an empty void— and the energy beamed into it; and it felt like relief when it touched there, felt like something being filled that had needed it so badly— like her pussy had been aching, it was like an aching pussy that had needed and needed and had finally felt something thick and deep thrusting into it; she exhaled, and the process was over.

For her, too, it had only taken a handful of seconds— it had felt so much longer in her own mind— if the girl who had existed before the mind wipe had completed could have known, she would have been shocked it had happened so quickly, because to her it had felt like eternities and eternities. But it had only taken the same handful of seconds for Lani to break as it had taken Tessi— and now Tessi, too, was only a mindless sex drone, awaiting command.

The other eight women had not seen what had happened in the minds of the two women who had just been wiped. They had only seen the beams enter the two women’s heads for about three seconds— and then they had seen the eyes of the two women go completely dull, and their bodies go completely stiff. But the eight women were still horrified— yet in fear, they stayed silent.

“The two ladies have now been released to the guests for this night’s auction. In the morning, they will act normally again— but they won’t be able to remember tonight.”

Kaia was enthusiastic about this idea— she promptly bought up Lani; and the hotel staff brought Lani over to where Kaia was sitting out in the auction audience in her chair.

Kaia commanded her, and Lani immediately began licking her pussy.

The audience applauded; the eight woman sat anxiously in their chairs.

But the moderator had an announcement to make.

“This will be the first of four rounds,”she called out, brightly.

A spotlight appeared over Sloane and Marcela; then an odd machine was being wheeled in. Sloane and Marcela were taken to it, dragged there by the chairs they were still seated in and bound to.

The bonds around them opened, and the machine grabbed at them, undressing them both immediately.

Sloane and Marcela screamed as it manipulated them— but the machine didn’t register this, and didn’t hesitate in what it was doing at all. It outfitted them both a diaper; and then placed both of them down in front of a monitor.

It held them by their wrists and ankles, starfishing them out; suspending them in place. It had, by similar extensions, little narrow clamps at the end of each mechanical arm, undressed and redressed them in diapers. Now, it held them in place by the monitor.

A tube descended, to settle briefly in both mouths of Sloane and Marcela; it filled them both, down to their stomachs and all the way up, with a sweet porridge.

Sloane tried to spit the tube back out of her mouth, but it was deeply fixed into it. Marcela didn’t try spitting out, but tried closing her throat by flexing her throat muscles. This didn’t work either; the porridge forced its way past those tensed muscles, and still found its way down into her stomach.

Sloane didn’t even know what the porridge could do— she just knew she didn’t want it, and didn’t want it to do to her whatever it was doing— she tried to spit the tube out more forcefully, but in response it forced its way further down her throat, teasing her gag reflex. Maybe if she could vomit she could vomit the tube out— but when the vomit came, because she had forced the tube back, and it had punished her by coming too much further down and turning a tease into a full on assault— it only mixed with the porridge, and then both together, combined, were forced down again and into her stomach.

That made her so queasy, made her feel so awful inside her stomach that Sloane gave up fighting the tube in her mouth.

Marcela had since given up fighting the tube too, because the porridge it sent down had already conquered her throat muscles which had failed to block it up. Marcela had never conquered anything in her life, had never had really rousing success; but this mechanical thing could have it. This mechanical tube had been conqueror as she never had— as she never would be. That made her sag in her bonds, more despairing than before. She was so pathetic and so weak she couldn’t even overcome a simple feeding tube. She gave in and let it feed her.

“This porridge they’re being fed has a laxative effect,” The moderator explained. “Once it is excreted, it will complete their transformations.”

The monitor began hypnotizing the first of the two women. It had begun by hypnotizing Sloane; slowly transforming her— she would become a giant baby; she heard the certainty of it in her thoughts, and there was no fight left in her… losing to the feeding tube had seen to that… she could feel the language of her thoughts dumbing down; a fully grown baby…

A vibrator came to her pussy— it pressed into her clit, and shook it; the vibrations were so powerful, Sloane felt them entirely through her pussy. She had not been fighting with much success; the monitor was so consuming… but even what little fight that she had managed became even harder with the newly introduced vibrations. Sloane could feel herself drifting away, just as the pleasure was overcoming her...

The monitor was still right there, in front of Sloane’s face; and she could still feel the diaper resting against herself. It was humiliating to be in a diaper— and the monitor was so close, swimming before her face, that Sloane felt it was actually inside her head. The spiral it showed was in her thoughts— the spiral it showed was in her mind— it was fucking her thoughts, and when it fucked them, it changed them. Sloane could feel what was coming for her, and she didn’t like it.

It wanted her to forget all words— wanted her to forget language. She didn’t need them— she wasn’t supposed to speak every again. Only cry, or coo, or wail, or scream, just like a baby, because she was a baby.

No, she wasn’t a baby, Sloane protested, shook her head, irrationally believing the spiral could see her— that it was a thinking thing, and it could know what a headshake meant. She was a grown woman. She wasn’t a baby. She needed words— she needed language to communicate.

No, she had to forget them all. She only needed infantile cries to communicate. She was a baby. All she needed to do was sleep and eat and shit and play— no, not shit! That was too humiliating, she would not soil herself!

But pleasure was building in her. Sloane felt it there. The spiral must have been a thinking thing because the next thing it said to her was malicious; or would have been malicious if said by a human, but even if she knew logically it hadn’t been intended that way, it just seemed completely cruel.

The pleasure was going to culminate. It was going to be an orgasm, and when it was, it was going to make her into a baby forever; and when that happened, and her fate was sealed in, she would relieve her bowel in joy, and once she had shit herself, she would only be a baby, and she would only be happy about it.

Sloane keened and cried; keened more like a baby than an adult— so it had already changed her this much, that was clear— she didn’t want the fate it had prepared her for, the fate it told her with every turning that she was meant for and that she was going to get; she struggled against her bonds, pulling, pulling.

But the spiral told her it was time for her orgasm to start. And the orgasm came, slow, and twisting— it was in no rush to end, that much was clear, and it slowed time with itself, and every pulse of satisfied pleasure was doing something to her mind.

It was pouring happiness directly into her mind like liquid; it was chipping her mind away; with force, with difficulty as though something in her still fought and made it hard... but then it got easier. Her mind was breaking down— she could feel it, as the pleasure rocked her— it was breaking down into soft mush, soft as the porridge that had been force-fed into her stomach... and when that mush came, it left behind a feeling. A happy, cooing, light feeling that could never have words— she was a happy baby with a mush brain and didn’t know what those words meant anymore, didn’t know any words at all; and finally the orgasm finished, and in the moment it had, Sloane felt her bowels completely void, filling her diaper with mush like her head had been, and Sloane cooed a happy sigh at the sensation of that wet feeling.

Marcela was fighting with more success. She had despaired before, and yet, when she was so starkly presented with a horror for a future, it had kicked her alive again. She could not allow it to happen to her. She would not be an adult baby. She would not be humiliated this way. She just had to get out of her chair— if she could twist a little further, maybe— if she could struggle a little harder, surely she could work her bonds loose and they would give away.

And then she could get away— she dreamed of running across the stage as if she were already asleep— it seemed the dearest dream she’d ever had, dearer than anything else she’d ever aspired to and then failed to attain— but she was still in the chair, not in her dream, running— she twisted harder, wishing for the steel bonds to come unscrewed, wishing she could work the screws until they unscrewed, waiting to hear them fall on the floor, waiting to feel the bonds come away.

They didn’t.

Daniel kept trying. She kept twisting her body around in place to keep herself both moving and distracted. It wasn’t affecting her, the hypnotic monitory. Or maybe it wasn’t affecting her yet.

She still had her mind, and she would keep fighting to hold onto it; but she looked at Sloane beside her, and saw that Sloane was not having her same success; her eyes were wide, reflecting the spiral on the monitor, and a wide smile had spread her mouth— and Sloane’s transformation came to an abrupt and brutal end as Sloane jerked in an orgasm which was clearly beyond her ability to control; and when she came, she obviously let her bowel control go— because the diaper she wore filled so full that it bulged outward, bulged fat and spherical, in response to this orgasming.

Marcela was both shocked, and disgusted, and kept twisting where she sat in defiance. More than ever, she was sure that she would not let such a thing happen to her. But the auctioneer was clearly delighting by this turn of events.

“The first adult baby is up for auction!” she exclaimed, excitedly. “Our other lady is still struggling.”

Marcela was still struggling, and the auctioneer had spoken truly.

She struggled— but the monitor was still there, no matter how much she twisted. The bonds didn’t come undone, no matter how much she twisted. They kept her held there, looking at it— that spiral turning… spinning ideas of babification into her thoughts— and those ideas were so compelling— she could only resist for so long and then she had to—

She had to end up being a happy, stupid baby, and so she did; she did not hear when the auctioneer spoke again. “Our second adult baby is now up for auction!”

Kaia bid on this lot too— she bid, and then bid again, on Sloane; until Sloane was hers. She had not stopped, though she’d already won other lots of the auction. She must have seemed insatiable to all the other auction guests. Even within herself she felt a certain insatiability. There were so many hot and sexy slaves here. She wanted them all— now she had Sloane to add to her collection.

Something was being rolled in. It looked like a huge electronic snake— and two more women were chosen: Brigid and Rowen.

The snake first turned to Brigid; it began swaying in place— and though Brigid was aware that she was on auction, and being prepared for something she truly did not want, she could not stop herself from following the way that snake swayed; her body swayed with it, echoing the movement— she moved from side to side in her chair, following after the snake.

Her body kept moving, doing what the snake wanted. Brigid seemed to have completely lost control of that— so instead she tried to defy in her mind. She was following the snake, but it didn’t mean anything. By denying it she thought she could help herself. She followed the snake but it wasn’t going to get her. She would not be hypnotized, not by a snake, even if it was an electronic one. Even if it was an electronic one, the thought of being taken control of by an animal, or a facsimile of an animal, was too humiliating. She was a human being! She was supposed to be more sophisticated than any animal; she would not become a helpless, hypnotized thrall, controlled by a snake.

She was a human being; she would stay free!

But the swaying of her own body, in time with the snake, was making her tired.

And yet, this was not the thing that made Brigid feel strangest; soon, the snake’s eyes began to flash all colors, one after another in fast-procession which gave Brigid a headache— the colors flashed, and Brigid’s mind tried to process it. Brigid’s mind tried to keep up with it, but it was just too fast, and when her mind was being too slow that flashing seemed to get ahead of it, it said things to her that Brigid could not outrun. Her eyes were getting so heavy— she felt like she was falling asleep— but even once she’d fallen, her eyes stayed open… though her mind was by then entirely dormant.

The snake next turned to the second woman; turned to Rowen. She’d watched with alarm as Brigid had been hypnotized, and had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t suffer the same fate. She wouldn’t let it hypnotize her. She wouldn’t look.

But the snake started swaying with its whole body again— and Rowen’s eyes followed it. She closed them to make it stop, and her body stilled. She had to fight back— she couldn’t just allow this to happen to her. She turned her face to the side, with her eyes still closed.

That would protect her she was sure; only when she closed her eyes, she still saw the snake in her mind’s eye… it swayed there too, and made her want to open them and look on it again… it swayed in her thoughts, and Rowen’s body kept moving with the now-imagined snake movements. Yet though she moved, and had to admit she was moving, she told herself she could make up for following the snake this way by thinking herself into freedom. She followed the snake, in her head, but she knew who she was. She was Rowen— she was independent, she was autonomous, she thought for herself and no snake and no hypnosis could change that.

Just as she felt the feeling of dazedness starting to fade, a different sensation replaced it, and that sensation shocked her.

She thought in alarm that she felt something twining around her body, and she opened her eyes in expression of that same shock. Since she had not been watching, the snake had come right to her, and it had coiled her up in its coils; now it squeezed her body, squeezed around her breasts; and the face of the snake was right before her, its eyes flashing their colors right up close to her face.

She needed to look away— needed to escape— but the feel of the snake shivering its surprisingly realistic-feeling coils over her skin was distracting; the feeling of it constricting around her, and especially around her breasts… she needed to go but there was nowhere to go except down— there was nowhere to go except deep into trance and she was falling.

The snake, by making her body shiver with its coils, by making her feel the pleasure of constriction, by making her see those flashing colors in its eyes… it was shutting her mind down, but all Rowen could do was trust it. It was a good snake… helping her… she just had to trust it… she just had to let it… she just had to go deeper… she felt its tail twitch against her forehead, tickling across— then she was aware of nothing else.

The snake released Rowen, and was taken away. Both Brigid and Rowen were left on the stage, deeply under hypnosis, and the moderator started auctioning them.

Kaia let Brigid go; but she bid on Rowen successfully— the way she’d looked bound up in those coils had made Kaia sure she wanted her— and there were many grumbles of annoyance around Kaia in the crowd. She had once again bid and won; she’d bid and won multiple times. Clearly, they thought she’d won enough, and shouldn’t win anymore— but Kaia didn’t care. She’d spent a lot of money to get Rowen, so Rowen was fairly hers. She’d bid without caring about her budget either. She hadn’t cared about the opinions of her fellow bidders, or her budget— she’d just wanted another slave. Just wanted Rowen.

She had successfully managed to bid, and win, through a series of successive orgasms that were still shaking her. Her licking slave had seen to that. She’d shook and shook, but still managed to raise her hand at each necessary interval as the amount of her bid had climbed and climbed… they hadn’t wanted to let her have Rowen, they’d kept trying to top her bid, thinking she would back down… and her slave had kept licking her, but even through eyes that had seen waves of pleasure in the light of the room, she had kept her focus— and now, Rowen was all hers, no matter what anyone thought about that.

Still the auction continued. Two more women were chosen by the spotlight above— Bella and Cybill. Once they were arranged in their chairs, naked onstage, a dildo from each chair rose, and though both Bella and Cybill tried to shift around in place, they couldn’t avoid the dildo coming into them— and once the dildo was in, it seemed to be doing something to them, something more than just pistoning in and out of them both. It was introducing something to their bodies and their minds, though what its nature was, that was as yet unclear to the members of the audience.

Bella hated it. She didn’t want to be violated this way, penetrated this way, changed this way. She squirmed on the dildo, trying to pull herself back from it to make it fall out of her. But she was held in place by her shackles— and the dildo stayed stabbed deep into her, seeping whatever kind of influence it had into her deepest, darkest places, and changing her there.

Those places were so deep— they were so personal— and yet they were being changed. Bella howled with the unfairness of it, sounding almost inhuman from it— tears streaked her face, but she couldn’t stop those changes from happening. She would have cared less if more superficial things had been changed. But for those deepest, most intimate parts in her to shift— parts no one had seen, known of, touched, except her— to have them be touched for the first time by something that was changing her— Bella hated it even more. Those changes were getting inside her and changing her around— and it was the most horrible thing she’d ever felt, and she couldn’t stop it.

Bella and Cybill started drooling, both. And their noses twitching; something was happening to the tip of each nose; and the hollow of their right eye was darkening into a splotch; their eyes narrowed in, and their pupils widened, took on a white shine; each upper lip triangled itself more— and both women’s tongues fell out, also more triangles than normal, sending down a string of drool each. Each tongue was textured like an animals.

The tips of their noses had become round, and black, like a dog’s nose— and a stamp had appeared on each forehead, in the shape of a small paw print.

Their dog-like eyes were crossed now, their tongues still hanging out and pouring drool; and finally, a black collar appeared around each throat.

Their clothes had melted away; the dildos withdrew, and each woman, both Bella and Cybill, happily went down onto their hands and knees— went down as if they couldn’t even remember standing.

They stayed on all fours like that, panting and pouring out drool in only their collars— with their foreheads stamped; each one with their spot of dark color on their right eye. They had both become Puppysluts.

The moderator started the bidding; Kaia sat up in her chair, and placed her bid; but the slave between her legs was licking. Kaia tried to keep her focus— someone else had upped her bid, she thought. She raised her hand to rebid, and up their bid in return; but the slave between Kaia’s legs quirked her tongue in just the right way— and Kaia saw white as an orgasm overcame her world, and she lost track of the auction entirely.

Kaia recovered quickly, with the slave licking her back down just as she’d licked her up— but she had orgasmed at the crucial moment, and lost the bid. The puppysluts had already sold— she’d missed her chance.

The auction went on— there were only two remaining women, and the moderator turned to them. “Congratulations to you both,” she said, cheerfully; the two women, Ramona and Valerie, looked back at him in surprise.

“You will not be auctioned,” the moderator continued explaining.

Both women were filled with relief, and the two of them breathed it out in a sigh.

“But,” the moderator spoke again, clearly not finished. “We will still turn you, temporarily. For the rest of the evening, you will be bimboclowns, and will serve anyone who asks you for sexual service.”

“No,” Ramona protested.

“Never!” Valerie insisted.

But a beam of light appeared; the circumference of its spot was wide, and it looked whitest in the center, with a rainbow halo effect out around the edges of its width.

Ramona squirmed. “That… tickles…” she said. The light stayed fixed on the center of her forehead, beaming into her. It felt funny; and after a few seconds she let out a soft laugh.

But the light didn’t stop beaming her… Ramona’s hands drifted up; it was getting so hard to think, it felt like all her smarts were slipping away and she didn’t know where… then she wasn’t thinking about that at all. She had raised the front of her shirt, and she was pressing her breasts into each other.

There were other things Ramona was supposed to know; she had always excelled at the travel agency she worked for, because she had above average intelligence.

Where was it now? She was forgetting words for common things... and yet she knew she still had to speak. Her intelligence reduced she still knew that talking out loud was her only hope at reversing the... thingy... that was happening to her...

“Ramona...” she forgot how you were supposed to talk when you were referring to something happening to yourself; she only remembered her name so that was what she had to use. “Ramona... talk... talk to... talk... talky talk for talky talk... talk... talk...” it was starting to sound like gibberish to her— Ramona giggled.

“Tock— tockkkk— TAWWWWWWWWk—” She giggled again; that was funny; it was funny to say nonsense... she didn’t remember what those things were called, anyway... those things you used to depict... things... ideas... to make other people understand. Saying nonsense was much funnier, anyway, and she was a clown, she was meant to make people laugh...

“Awk kawkk kack tack ack ick—” she giggled at the string of nonsense... she was forgetting everything. She’d forgotten everything— remembered nothing.

Now there was only one thought in her head: how fun this was. How much fun she was having sitting there, and it didn’t matter why. It was fun— and this was funny—

Under the beam, the audience could see Ramona’s face was shifting. Makeup was developing, seemingly all on its own; white face paint, blue circles of eyeshadow that completely covered the space of each eye socket; a wide, pink drawn-on clown smile.

Ramona took her shirt all the way off, and her chest was bare; the world was swimming when she looked out at it— she laughed again, with more volume this time.

“Clown wants to play… play with anyone who wants her! Play… with me…” The last phrase was an invitation out to the audience.

The beam shut off. Her makeup was complete; her intelligence was gone, and now, looking at her, she looked only like a dumb, stupid clown.

A long night of much sex proceeded, for all of them.