LEGACY
by trilby else (trilelse@mail.anonymizer.com)
5. Now
Hypnotizing her first girl had left Robin excited and guilty. Drawing first-turn, her willowy Asian opponent tried fascinating her with strobelights and staccato commands.
Christine had conditioned Robin to resist those before she’d learned to drive.
The girl hadn’t expected to lose, which undermined whatever resistance she’d tried to marshal against Robin’s subsonics.
As Shane led her away, Robin silently promised: I’ll be good to you.
She’d also thought My pretty pony—and more fun to ride and scolded herself.
Now she was back, seeing antiques and electronics gleaming under the pavilion’s track-halogens. Unseen webcams and microphones would give the judges every detail.
A girl-shape left the opposite shadows.
Kendall Pearce.
Robin cocked her head. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m as surprised as you are.” Her eyes raked Robin’s body, as if wanting to fuck her instead. Of course, if she hypnotized Robin—“It’s coincidence. And irony.
“Or are you accusing the Abbey of something?”
“You don’t seem surprised, Kendall. Not that I question your word or anything.”
Kendall waved it off. “Once you’re obedient, you’ll forget the attitude, so why punish you? And you’ll be my second victim.” Shapely but not at all muscular in the leotard, her arrogance was almost endearing.
But Robin had met the adult version. Bitches are cuter, when they’re puppies. Had Kendall really already hypnotized another girl, too?
“We should tell the umpires.” Robin shrugged. “Maybe it’s a test.”
“They’ll think you’re making an excuse not to lose to me.
“Are you? Robin?”
Robin rolled her eyes.
“It’s all right.” Kendall’s poor-little-kitty voice was surprisingly soothing. Genuine.
Maybe she was a psychopath.
“Your mother’s brainwashed you for years about Libby-the-evil-hypnotist. Now you’re about to match wills with her daughter, and to lose—” Theatrical sigh.
“Surrender isn’t defeat, Robin. You don’t have to fail. Just don’t try.” She stared at Robin, as if this were working. “Bliss. Obedience. I’ll do all the heavy thinking.”
Robin golf-clapped. “We don’t know you’re first, Kendall.”
If Kendall’s patter were ruled an induction, it helped—Kendall was either out-of-turn, or wasted her try. But no judge intervened.
“What do you have?” Robin held up her number.
Kendall looked startled, uncrumpled her slip. “Seven.”
“Nine.”
Now Kendall looked concerned. She straightened, eyes darting from table to table. Robin watched which hypnotic devices she looked away from, and which she didn’t even look at.
It was an easy place to Brer-Rabbit someone into using something you’d specially trained to withstand. With no way to predict her opponent, Robin hadn’t considered it.
But Kendall had some real worries, apparently. She was standing straight, trying to withdraw into herself. It just made her look half-controlled already.
It was weirdly seductive.
“Robin, I think—”
“Not for long, Kendall. And you shouldn’t try to drop me verbally. It still counts, and it’s still not your turn.”
“Robin. I am not trying to hypnotize you.” Kendall sounded unconvinced, as if the idea were foreign to her. She also sounded scared.
Robin got a headrush.
She stepped deliberately closer. So weird, to have imagined falling to this soft little princess. “Coinky-dentally, though—” She glanced casually at the Victorian mesmerizers.
Kendall’s gaze snapped over. So—she knew about Libby using that antique on Robin’s mother.
“Robin. I’m only realizing now,” Kendall whispered, gulping. “How—seductive—obedience is . . .”
Her nipples were bullets under the leotard.
This headrush echoed between Robin’s thighs. Kendall had been racing her own secret slaveneed. And lost.
Poor Kendall, a Dove in Falcon’s plumage. Becoming Robin’s slave would liberate her.
Robin smiled reassuringly. Kendall wanted this. When she worshipped Robin later, the only unhappy one would be Libby.
She indulged herself, imagining the darker what-if. Slipping, letting Kendall lull her—or just drawing a lower number. Having to let that pet-soothing voice slither into her head. End up kneeling to that pussy while Kendall decided which Robin-thoughts disappeared, and which became Kendall’s-slavegirl-thoughts.
“Robin. My mother will be—!” Kendall’s exquisite eyes, so wide, so terrified.
Pleasure shuddered through Robin as she stared into them. Kendall publicly submitting, while Libby cringed, melted into herself instead at the Pearces’ feet, nude and masturbating—while Mom—
Robin was dizzy. It was secret masturbation, naughty and forbidden.
And safe. She had control. Kendall wasn’t hypnotizing her, but was realizing how seductive it was.
“Robin.” Kendall trembled. “I can’t resist.”
Boom. Robin didn’t actually climax, but—god her head was spinning. That felt good.
Soft princess Kendall was hers, ready to melt. Robin slid against her toy and imagined their first perverted game.
“Hypnotize me, Kendall.”
She heard herself say it, and saw Kendall’s face—she writhed against Kendall. It was real. She’d thrown away—
So evil. So insane.
So hot.
Kendall smiled now, holding her, all that princess condescension back. It buzzed in Robin’s cunt, like her favorite vibrator thrumming away her willpower to pull it out.
She was fucked. She’d conceded out loud, and it was Kendall’s turn now and she’d fucked herself and that felt sweeeeet.
Kendall’s mother was right. “Susceptibility’s in my—”
“Shhh.” Kendall gripped her arms. “Do you surrender to me, Robin?” Once more, for the microphones.
No one was intervening. The judges had ruled.
More headrush. “Yes, Mistress. I surrender to you. I will be hypnotized.”
Kendall kissed her. “You can’t call me that yet, Robin.”
“I obey.” Robin’s head spun. Her pussy was on fire. “H-how will you—hypnotize me?”
Kendall stared, and Robin submitted to her gaze.
But that wasn’t it. “Maybe—” Now the antiques were Kendall’s tease. “Use what turned your mother into my mother’s fuckpuppet?”
God. Mom—!
It made Robin wet and helpless. It made her nod.
“Mmm—nope. Fuck retro. We’re next-generation.” She leaned closer, dazing Robin with her long fragrant hair. “I’ll use your mind, then.” She turned them toward the electronics table.
“Which machine are you most afraid of?” She laughed. “Before you remembered you’re a slave and want it.”
Betraying herself nearly made Robin come. Kendall kneaded her ass and drank another kiss. She fought to look into Kendall’s eyes and tell her.
“This one, Robin? Ooh.” God. Robin would be brainwashed to obey that purr. “You’ll have to show me—how to use it on you.”
Putting the phase modulator’s leads on her own head, she watched Kendall’s smile widen. It would read and then blunt Robin’s brainwaves—paralyzing her defenses while Kendall hypnotized her.
Wires trailing down like a bridal veil, she ensured Kendall knew exactly how to use it.
Then she put her hands by her sides and waited to be hypnotized into Kendall’s Dove.
6. Then
The Abbey had buckled down for spring finals. The Dovecote was as subdued as ever, but even the Eyrie was quiet. Doves were summoned to serve, but as often as not it was to help a Falcon cram or just comprehend something knotty she couldn’t put off any longer.
Dean Beyle’s posthypnotic suggestions still ruled Christine’s mind, and her warnings still deterred the Falcons. Christine could keep up with her own work while still serving Libby and other Falcons. Some actually gave her gifts, and sex with Muffy Arrowsmith had been practically mutual after Christine helped her ace her organic-chem midterm.
When Amy, a junior Dove she knew vaguely, asked for her while she was on the PC, she thought nothing of it. Dylan let Amy in and climbed back onto her bunk.
“I am programmed for Christine,” Amy intoned, staring at none of them. “Christine must obey.”
“I’ll—just—” Christine fumbled at the keyboard to save her document, reaching for the floppy’s envelope.
“Christine must obey.” Amy looked across them, then closed the door.
“Just a minute!” Ellie glared. “I’m—” She shut her eyes, breathed, reined herself back from the thoughtstopper. “OK, I will obediently call Dean Beyle’s office. You guys can’t keep making Chris—”
“I am programmed for roommates.” Amy blinked robotically, swiveled her head toward Ellie. “You will call no one.”
Ellie narrowed her eyes and lifted the receiver. Amy said, “Thinkstop.”
Ellie’s eyes dinnerplated behind her glasses. “Call . . . no . . . one . . .” The receiver clunked back into the cradle as she blankly groped her crotch.
Seeing her quelled bothered Christine, but mostly excited her. On her bunk, Patsy sat up pertly, in case Amy was obeying one of her co-owner Falcons. She went under instantly. So did Dylan above her.
“Mistress Libby speaks.” Amy came toward Christine, who just stood still.
“I will obey.” Christine felt herself opening.
“The Pendulum is floating.”
It dropped Christine down a long, dim tunnel. She felt more than heard the specific commands Amy droned into her. Then she opened the door, leaving Amy to erase her roommates. As it often did, the trance gripped her mind more tightly with each step, and she was zoned when she halted by the desk. She didn’t turn.
“Christine?”
“I have been summoned.” She sounded like Amy. “I must go to her.”
“Go to her,” the desk monitor repeated, dazed just by how deep Christine was.
Christine walked away. She could feel the OBEY mural pull at her, but moistened as she knew the hypnotic summons was stronger. Then she stopped.
Someone was sprinting from downcampus, straight for the Dovecote. Kat, the strapping volleyball star, was in a Dove-white top and minimal red shorts, gripping a sledgehammer. Her toned body uncoiled in a dead run, contours gleaming with sweat under the afternoon sun. Her face was alive with rage and vengeance, and her hair was bleached golden.
Kat balanced perfectly, bracing to throw the hammer right into the spiral.
Then the spiral caught her.
Her eyes widened and she slowed down. Halting her sprint, Kat swung the hammer back down with dreamy grace until she was still and slack-bodied, a few steps from the wall.
Kat gaped numbly up at OBEY. Her head rolled a little until her lips began moving. As she repeated it, she stared up into the spiral and came erect, strong legs together, holding the sledgehammer upright at present-arms.
“Obey!” she barked. “Conform! Submit!
“All who disobey must be destroyed!” Her eyes shone. “I will destroy on command!”
The applause didn’t snap her out of it. It closed her eyes and froze her into a vaguely fascistic sculpture.
The audience clapped for Libby, who bowed modestly before going to deactivate Kat.
“Somebody really liked that commercial.”
“Want to make her do it again?”
Hands on Kat’s head and arm, absently gentling her like a horse, Libby turned. “Lisa. Tell me you got that.”
Libby murmured something else. Kat’s eyes half-opened. She opened her thighs slightly and inserted the sledge’s handle between them.
The senior with the camcorder on her shoulder strolled over. “Fuckin’—A. We need another from”—she swung—“there, to fit your storyboard. Kat got another take in her?”
“She will destroy on command,” another Falcon pointed out. “So, probably.” They laughed as Kat’s eyes opened fully, lost themselves in Libby’s.
“Careful, Libby. She’ll stain those shorts.”
Christine blinked drowsily. Watching Kat portray a tamed heroine turned her on. So did watching the Falcons play with her like a doll.
When Libby touched her forehead, Kat stopped broom-riding the handle, nodded to the next instruction, and trotted back down the quad to her mark.
Libby walked toward Christine, pointing to someone. “MisterSuluYOU—have—theconn!”
“But we’re—we’re losing the light!” the girl laughed, gesturing to the noonday sun.
Walking toward Christine, Libby thought for a moment, then waved her arms. “Peasants! Insects! I, I, I cannot work in such conditions! I am an artiste!”
“Un film de!” The girl waved a can of something.
“Fuckin-A.” Lisa trudged over for the next take as someone trotted down after Kat to tell her when to run again.
Libby slid her arm around Christine, and they strolled off like lovers. “That was uncanonical,” Libby admitted. “Of course, what I’m ripping off was, anyway. And now I can’t say foobbaww is a complete waste of TV airtime anymore.
“But this is the year for brainwashing people to betray themselves and everyone else, then love you for it.”
Libby palmed her breast. “And I’ve been brainwashing you a lot. I don’t need a ratcage to control you. Two plus two equals five, or avocado, or whatever I tell you it is.” She sighed.
“Turns out I’m busier than I thought I was, though, and all bets are off for summer. Long time until Labor Day. If only your mom were an alumna—a Dove alumna.
“No matter.”
She led Christine toward the Eyrie. “I’ve got study group at four, and we’ve already got Doverage—your roomie Patsy’s great at research and cunnilingus. Until then, I’m going to reinforce some of what you’ve been absorbing so well.
“Obedience. Conformity. Destroying on command.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Christine didn’t think she’d end up running anywhere with a hammer. But under Libby’s spell, she knew she could.
7. Now
When Mistress Kendall told her to, Robin followed Mistress Kendall’s Dove.
She no longer needed her own. It was easier to forget she’d had one.
All she cared about now was becoming Kendall Pearce’s absolute slave.
As Kendall used the machine on her, Robin could almost feel her mind dissolve. Kendall swiftly learned to use Robin’s increasing obedience to make her enjoy helping destroy her own will.
At first, Robin admired Kendall’s preparedness. She wasted no time systematically neutralizing anything that might revive Robin’s desire to think for herself. Drawing out parts of Robin’s mind Robin never suspected were there, she instructed them to forget wanting to be free. Robin felt them obey.
But the electronically-boosted hypnosis soon rendered Robin’s mind too smooth for admiration. She just swayed in slackjawed awe while Kendall told her what to think.
Kendall told her not to think too much.
Now, Robin went where the other slavegirl led her. She used to know what they did with girls who got hypnotized during Fledging. But she couldn’t remember much.
She didn’t have to, anymore. New-tamed Doves were told what to do until properly trained to obey on their own.
In a room full of quietly-staring girls in leotards, someone recorded the number on her tag and told her to obey any command she heard.
Joining all the other spellbound losers turned Robin on, but Mistress had given her something of her very own to think: I am a slave. Slaves obey.
Robin thought that over and over.
Someone told them to undress. They peeled off the number tags, reattached them to their bare breasts. Then they stared.
Mistress entered, still in her leotard. She talked to a Falcon, then whispered to Robin.
Robin found herself padding after Kendall, naked, out of the pavilion into Founders’ Hall. She was too sleepy to be aroused, thinking only of her hypnotist’s next command. Kendall led her into a lounge where two women faced each other stiffly from matching wing chairs, and halted her before them.
Robin’s mother gaped at her.
“Wh—” She glared at Libby Pearce. “You cunt. What did you—”
“My daughter dominated yours, Christine. Just accept it.”
The woman who’d owned her mother held Robin rapt. Her voice fogged Robin’s mind, and Robin wondered why it didn’t instantly soothe Mom into agreeing. “Robin obeys her now.”
Seeing Robin nude and entranced, following Kendall like a docile pet, seemed more real to Christine than hating Libby.
But she faced Kendall. “You did something to my daughter. Drugged her. Tampered with—”
“She submitted to me, Ms Weyler.” Kendall sounded nervous but smug. Robin wanted to lick her.
Mom would have to watch.
“Abbey rules, Ms Weyler. She begged me to hypnotize her. She couldn’t fight her inner slave anymore.” She stroked Robin, letting Christine watch her daughter arch into her touch. “She’ll never have to.”
“She probably enjoyed it more than you, dear.” Libby was so calm, contemplating her old slave’s naked daughter. “Nor should we begrudge Robin her slave-ecstasy. Even if only because it amplifies her natural obedience. Addicts her to serving you.
“Remember, Christine?”
Robin had come here to avenge her mother against this woman, if only by staying free. Now she just wanted to crawl to Libby, gaze into her cruel eyes and obey. While her mother watched.
“You know exactly how aroused your daughter is right now. Obeying mine.”
“How could—no.” Christine wasn’t taking the bait. She was already retracting her emotions, other than the anguished stare at Robin. “Pairing our daughters wasn’t accidental. And someone—”
“Christine. Please. A small community like the Abbey’s naturally incestuous. Legacies encounter each other all the time. Even in Fledging.” She smiled.
“In most cases, the alumnae are amused. In this one . . .”
Libby deliberately, covetously savored Robin’s body. “Kneel her, will you, dear?”
Christine made a stricken sound as Kendall sent Robin to her knees.
“In this one, I think anyone who even notices will just agree your family make superb slaves.”
The only possible direct answer would be violence. Instead, Christine looked at Robin.
“Honey?”
Robin gazed back. Poor Mom. The sting of letting her down by surrendering hurt almost as much as it turned her on.
She couldn’t answer unless her hypnotist told her. That wet her more.
Fingers at the nape of her neck. “Speak.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Mom winced as she answered Kendall first.
Robin’s ass clenched. “I feel fantastic, Mom. All I want is to obey Mistress Kendall and lick her flower.”
A posthypnotic suggestion of Kendall’s, in the room of spellbound girls, whispered into her head.
Still looking at her mother, Robin started masturbating. “You told me how erotic it was to feel obedient all the time.
“Now I know. I’m a slavegirl just like you, Mom.”
She turned and gazed up at Kendall, deliciously intimidated now by the shapely curves. “I was born to serve my superiors.”
Her thighs jerked but she didn’t come. She turned back and beamed at Mom, withdrawing her hand. “They will make me very good at it.”
“No, Robin. Not—you—”
“Precisely her.” Libby watched Christine intently. “Robin is a perfect slave. Better even than you, Christine.
“And you should know.”
Christine heard only the insult, but Libby didn’t mind. “Kendall, dear?”
“Right, Mom.”
Fingers on her neck. “Obey my mother now.”
“Yes, Mistress!” Robin dripped.
Libby’s voice brimmed with satisfaction. “Robin.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Obeying Libby in front of Mom almost set her off.
“Acknowledge the slave who trained you.”
The memories slid around Robin’s thoughts and tightened. It wasn’t a shock. As she’d been conditioned to, Robin felt like she’d always remembered it.
Dutifully watching the bright things Mommy told her to follow, losing track of Mommy’s droning words but still absorbing them. Learning to hypnotize herself with the first of many devices. The spiral on her first computer.
Mom said hypnosis would keep her mind free. Robin loved and trusted her. She’d opened her mind to whatever Mom implanted, so Mom could make it stronger.
The free girl who’d come to the Abbey shivered once, reflexively. But years of secret brainwashing had bridled her and tamed her to the reins of the women who mounted her now.
The brainwashed slavegirl rose smoothly to her feet.
She bowed to Mistress Libby, turned to her mother. Mistress had chosen her messenger deliberately, and Robin waited for the horrified knowledge in Christine’s eyes. “You have completed your task, Dove Christine.”
Robin understood now why her mother had never gotten her a pony.
She’d been turning Robin into one.
8. Forever
Fledging climaxed in a mass-hypnosis ceremony at the Dovecote’s OBEY mural. Robin easily believed she saw the great painted spiral really spin when the loudspeaker-voice told her to. Surrounded by her fellow Doves as it all drew to a close, Robin’s eyes were as moist as her pussy.
She belonged now.
At last, Robin could slide into the tiny white tank and microshorts of a full-Fledged Dove. It might be the tight fit on her crotch and over her breasts that made her pussy quiver, or just showing so much subservient skin.
Most of all, learning how she’d been mindfucked into wanting it.
She half-wished she were going with the others to the hail-and-farewell dinner, if only to prance across campus like this. But before returning Robin to the handlers, Kendall had implanted other orders.
Robin went instead to the Eyrie. The Falcon at the atrium desk eyed the white choker that Robin, like her roommates, had donned without thinking. New Doves wore them until more prosaic mass-hypnosis indoctrinated them against excessive use.
“Write-protected,” the dominant girl sighed, and motioned Robin away. She came to attention by the wall. A few Falcons and guests came and went, along with blank-eyed Doves doing someone’s bidding. Being ignored like furniture stroked Robin’s libido as much as the interested stares.
Then her mother arrived.
In a short coat though the evening was warm, Christine seemed subdued. The Pearces had probably hypnotized her after dismissing Robin. She recognized her daughter, looking both pleased and bothered to find Robin standing contentedly in Dove whites. “Honey, are you all right?”
“I’m perfect, Mom.” She embraced Christine. “We must go to the Green Parlor.” On the way, she imagined her mother felt strange, being back where she’d submitted to Falcons.
Stranger, seeing her daughter eager to do the same.
The coat had concealed a white stretch-lace minidress Christine probably didn’t remember packing. With the halter, the high hemline, and anklestrap heels, she looked very like a Dove herself.
She wilted onto a sofa. “Honey, I’ve been trying to think. It’s just so hard.
“They used you to trigger me. They left me awake for a bit, just to know what they’d done. What they’d brainwashed me to do to you.
“But then Libby put me into trance. And she let that daughter of hers work on me for a while.”
She looked in apology at Robin, who tried not to show her own envy. A hypnotized plaything, alone with both of them!
“I woke up standing with them outside the Dovecote just as the choir was finishing. I saw you with the other girls, watching the spiral turn.
“Then Libby suggested I saw it turning, too.” She raised a hand slightly. “No one knew, but I dropped in a heartbeat. She probably instructed me. Next I woke, I was walking up the Eyrie steps just now, to see you.” She patted the sofa. “Please.
“Have they told you yet what’s going to happen to you?”
“No, Mom.” Robin joined her, grinning. “You did. Back when we were doing my Abbey application. It’s just that I remember now.”
She saw her mother didn’t. “Well, I’m not dropping out to become Mistress Libby’s sex-robot or a prostitute or anything. You bred me to serve her daughter, so my life is Mistress Kendall’s. I’ll be here serving her for her full four years.
“But, I’m programmed to blow some core courses by semester’s end, so Kendall can hypnotize me into choosing a less-taxing major. Nomadic Urban Planning, Modern Sumerian Lit, whatever amuses her. I’ll graduate with a low B average. Maybe C.” Her owners were so brilliant! “I’ll be nothing. No one will notice afterward when I become Kendall’s personal assistant.
“Or her chambermaid.”
Christine shook her head, slowly. “That’s your dream now? And I did this to you.
“I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to protect you but—”
“No, Mom! I was born to obey—”
Christine’s face twisted. “No! That’s the shit she had me pouring into your brain.
“While—I—played with myself—” She covered her mouth.
After a pause, Robin tried a soothing variation. “When I was old enough . . . I remember you taught me to masturbate.”
That hurt Christine too, but she didn’t fight it now. “Yes. I remember, too.
“You had your first orgasm under hypnosis. Repeating Libby’s name.”
Robin grinned and squeezed Christine’s hand. “Exactly! Now that my slave-programming’s activated, thinking about her turns me on.
“And I am totally Mistress Kendall’s toy.”
Robin kissed her. “You obeyed your Mistress perfectly, Mom. It’s time for me to obey mine!”
Her mother’s fuse seemed blown. “Libby controlled me so deeply I never knew I was doing it. She’d designed this different mind-control process. It only began with hypnotizing me.”
Robin suddenly wished she’d been Mistress Libby’s lab-slut.
“She just took over my mind. That’s not supposed to happen. No one’s supposed to be permanently enslaved here.”
Suddenly Christine gripped her hands. “I think I fought her when she started programming me about you. To give her my daughter. I was ready to let her marry me to someone just to breed me. But I wouldn’t bear a baby girl, just to train her for slavery. I think I tried.”
She stared at Robin. “I’m sorry. I can’t really remember. And I surrendered. I made you hers.
“But I can remember maybe trying.” Her eyes were brightening. “And that it’s wrong to keep a Dove enslaved after commencement. And making me program you to submit to triggers the judges wouldn’t recognize, so little Kendall didn’t have to ‘really’ hypnotize you out of turn—
“We’re seeing the Dean. Now. When she sees what Libby did to me, what she made me do—”
Her hold tightened. “To my. Own. Daughter.” This was the fierce woman Robin had grown up wanting to be, and then to avenge.
But this woman had diligently programmed Robin for many contingencies. Going to Dean activated one.
“Mom?” Robin smiled. She recited words implanted years ago, in her mother’s own voice.
“The Pendulum is floating.”
It turned off Christine’s mind too quickly for surprise. Her conditioning was that good.
“You will tell no one, Christine.”
The new voice tapped a Reset button in Robin’s head. She rose smoothly to attention, facing the women who owned them both.
9. And Ever
They’d been in the Green Parlor all the time. Under posthypnotic suggestion, their once and future Doves hadn’t seen them.
God, Kendall was gorgeous. In that dress she looked so much older. Truly her mother’s daughter, a natural owner.
Knowing Kendall had machine-implanted that belief just aroused Robin more as she believed it.
And I’m my mother’s daughter. Except more obedient.
“Who owns you, Christine?” Libby crooned, enjoying what her voice did to her classmate.
“You do, Mistress.” In the white minidress, Christine looked younger, weaker. “You brainwashed me to—’destroy on command.’”
She reached under her skirt but stopped, needing Libby’s permission. “I did, Mistress. I destroyed my own daughter.”
Libby just inspected Robin’s body, as if she hadn’t bought her yet. “You bred me a superb girl that way.” Her hand was cool on Robin’s bare flesh. She left it there.
“Trained her for bed, too, didn’t you, Christine?”
“Yes, Mistress.” Christine’s voice went husky. “Or for anywhere else she’d be used. I taught her everything you liked me to do. And the other Doves, when I bored you.”
“You never bored me, Christine. The candy store just had a lot of shelves.
“Now unwrap my truffle for me.”
“Mom?” Kendall frowned.
Christine smiled hungrily. “At once, Mistress!” She turned to Robin.
Her hand fell back across her thigh. Doing this turned her enough to forget touching herself.
Knowing her mother was back in Libby’s thrall, Robin succumbed to her influence as if she were back in high school.
As Christine instructed her, Robin knelt at Libby’s feet, then ducked her head under the older woman’s skirt. She eased forward by scent and feel, as sleek nylon become soft, musky thigh. Hot wet folds drew her to the flower.
Robin licked.
Even from behind her, and not from above, her mother’s voice bewitched her in the old way. Kept her on-task when the taste and contours of the cunt she worshipped were different than the one she’d trained with.
But better, her mother told her. With each lick and kiss in the instructed ways. Sweeter. More addictive.
Just as she’d always promised Robin it would be, when she gave Robin to it.
“Mom!” Anger now from Kendall. Robin tried to think of her, but her mind was filled with pleasing Libby.
“Robin’s—yours—for nnhh—for four years, Kendall.” Libby came in quick spasms, then tapped Robin’s head.
Robin stood again, dazed on Mistress-scent and her mother’s envious eyes.
“I enslaved her!” Kendall’s power over Robin kept her from hearing it as whining.
“Don’t be tiresome. You triggered her.”
Kendall stared at the juice on Robin’s face. “But that was her first—”
“You didn’t build the car, young lady. You merely turned the key.” Pursing her lips, Libby touched a brooch on her lapel. A microchip played a tinkling lullaby. It did nothing to Robin.
But Kendall’s eyes glazed over. “I’m . . . sorry, Mommy.” Her voice was higher, sleepier.
So worthy of obedience. Seeing Kendall hypnotized meant nothing to Robin’s programming. My obedience.
“Just drift, Kendall.” Libby sighed. “And you thought they were actually piano lessons.
“Christine? You’ve done well. Robin’s everything you were.”
Robin watched her mother squirm under the praise. “You created a good tool for that, Mistress!” She simpered at Robin, glad her daughter could hear her grovel.
Then Robin forgot everything as Mistress Libby drew a cool finger down her mons to her pussylips under the shorts. She whined and twitched but held still for Mistress’ play as Mistress stroked her into an agony of need.
As her eyes fluttered she glimpsed Kendall still smiling blissfully at nothing.
Libby relented and turned, as if tracking Robin’s glance. “Kendall.”
Kendall blinked awake, pouting, making Robin’s heart pound. “I wish you wouldn’t still do that, Mom.
“I know, I know—you wish I wouldn’t still ‘need’ it.” They traded a look but Libby left her lapel alone. “I just really wanted to be Robin’s first. Well, her first as an activated slave.”
She took a deep breath, walked over to Libby, and hugged her, close enough for Robin to smell and adore her perfume. “I do get it, Mom. And you were right.”
“About?” Libby cocked an eyebrow.
“You told Robin she’d please the one who hypnotized her today. Ultimately that wasn’t me or even her.” She head-faked at Christine without looking.
“You did.”
Libby flushed. “It took four years of brainwashing for Christine to suck up that easily. So all you needed—?”
Giggling, Kendall hugged her again. “Can we agree only Doves get hypnotized?”
“Only girls who shouldn’t think for themselves, at least. Why are you suddenly so reasonable, Kendall?”
Leering first at Robin, Kendall turned to Christine. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to borrow my Dove tonight, and I’m pretty sure I’ll agree. Whether I get to remember that is up to me.
“But your Dove looks sooo nice in that outfit. And so obedient.”
Libby pondered. “You’re not working out something—Oedipal’s the wrong word—?”
“Eww! No, Mom. But older women are hot, and I don’t think I should try anything with the Abbey staff.”
“You shouldn’t try that, no.” Libby smiled.
“So, can we? Exchange Doves?”
She stepped away and slid against Robin, holding her with what felt like tenderness. “I mean, I own the filly—and thank you!” She squeezed Robin’s ass.
“But wouldn’t a good owner ride the mare, too?”
Libby didn’t conceal her pride. “Either you get it, or you’re doing an excellent job of pretending. That can be even more useful in life.
“Deal! It’s irregular, but they’ll allow two families as close as ours—and as generous—to celebrate off-campus.
“Especially with two mothers chaperoning.” She went to reprogram Christine to obey her daughter.
Kendall nuzzled Robin, fingering her waistband. “We’ll get you something to wear over that. For the ride to Mom’s hotel.” Her nyloned thighs brushed Robin’s bare one.
Not just four years between her legs. The rest of my life!
She gazed into Kendall’s eyes, hoping her Mistress saw how deep the worship went.
Kendall kissed her, tasting Libby on her slave’s lips. “I’ve been rethinking turning you into a stuffed artichoke. You’ll be helping me make valedictorian—it’d be so cool if I owned the salutatorian.
“And why stop there?”
She kissed Robin again. “A brainwashed submissive chambermaid with a gauze apron is hot. But a brainwashed submissive chambermaid with a gauze apron and a Master’s? That—”
Whatever she meant, she just palmed Robin’s cunt through the shorts and kissed her again.