The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Indian summer which had warmed Moscow long past its residents’ expectations had finally left, and the freezing fingers of winter were squeezing the city. Fiona Byers adjusted her scarf to try to block the cold seeping underneath her coat, and gazed out over the Moskva river from the bridge balcony. There were no ice floes yet, but the dark chilliness of the water suggested strongly that it was only a matter of time before they appeared.

She shouldered her camera bag, and walked back off the bridge to follow the sidewalk along the river. Her friend Addy had made her spend a lot more money on a winter coat than she had planned on that shopping trip last month, but right now she was grateful. The wind sliced down the river, and on the few inches of exposed skin on Fiona’s face it burned like an ice cube. She tugged down her fur hat, pulled up her collar, and angled her walk to protect as much of her face as possible. She was starting to understand why the citizens habitually walked with their head down and shoulders hunched.

To her right, a broad street forked off the river road, and Fiona impulsively crossed over to follow it away from the river and its freezing winds. The old, five storey gray stone buildings blocked the worst of the drafts, and she relaxed a little as the persistently invading cold receded.

Across the street, her attention was caught by a building that stood out from the others. Rather than a post-war hunk of grim communist concrete, this looked like sandstone, and its windows were artfully lined with wrought iron decorations. The rooftop edge featured quite elaborate carvings, unusual for Moscow. A couple of men in military uniforms patrolled the front, beating themselves with their arms in an apparently unsuccessful attempt to stay warm.

Fiona slipped her camera bag off her shoulder, retrieved her Nikon FX with 50mm lens, and tried an initial framing of the building. She wasn’t quite in the right position, so moved another twenty meters and tried again. There! The cold grey sky formed a crown around the top and shoulders of the building. She took several shots, tweaking angles and focus.

“Stoi!” A man’s angry voice came from behind her.

Fiona turned to see a man in the uniform of the Moscow Militia, the city police force. He had apparently just exited a small police car, and was heading towards her with a scowl on his face.

Fiona gulped, and returned her camera to its bag. She dug into her coat, and retrieved her passport and purse. As the angry policeman approached, she meekly proffered the passport. He took it, and flicked through the pages; his expression did not become any less stern.

Fiona had taken two years of Russian at school before college, and now seemed like a good time to employ it.

“Comrade policeman; I am tourist. From England. I take photos—I am sorry?”

The policeman growled something Fiona didn’t catch, and gestured to the camera bag. Fiona carefully offered it to him. He pulled out the camera and, after a few false starts, figured out how to browse the images taken. Fiona meekly stood still, waiting for him to be done.

The policeman returned the camera to its bag, and slung it over his shoulder. Fiona watched, resigned to losing her device, and wondering how she was going to write this up for the insurance claim.

What she didn’t expect was for the policeman to pull out a pair of handcuffs, pull her arms behind her back, and cuff her.

“Hey! No, I didn’t do anything...” Her voice tailed away, realizing that her current negotiating position was extremely constrained.

The policeman tugged her back to his car, opened the door, and pushed her into the back seat. Fiona cooperated, but her lip wobbled as the policeman slammed the door shut and climbed into the front seat.

Should she request someone from the British Embassy? She wasn’t sure how to say that in Russian—belatedly, she chastised herself for not memorizing that phrase. Perhaps the best thing was to wait for the police station, and hope she could find someone whose English was better than her Russian.

The police station reminded her of American big city cop shows of the early 1980s. The technology levels were similar, the miscreants paraded past her were clearly accused of a mix of substance dealing and prostitution, and the police officers—though better uniformed than their US counterparts—looked worn down and cynical.

She was pulled before someone sitting behind a desk—was this the custody sergeant? He was older than most of the other policemen, and spent a lot of time writing in a log book. Her arresting policeman had a terse conversation, passed over her passport and camera bag to him, and walked off.

The custody sergeant peered at her passport.

“Fyoona—Bu-yers? Angliski?“

“Da, tovarishch militsionair. Turist.” She hoped that she was at least comprehensible.

He said something else, a long interrogatory sentence, but she could only pick out a couple of words. She shrugged, and tried to look apologetic. “I don’t speak much Russian.”

The policeman grunted, picked up a phone and said something into the receiver, then returned to his paperwork and appeared to lose interest in his charge. Fiona looked around her, trying to understand what was going on.

An office door on the other side of the room opened, and a woman in an immaculate officer’s uniform strode out. She was not that tall, maybe five feet three, but her ice blue eyes and perfect bearing commanded attention. She walked briskly over to the custody sergeant’s desk, and engaged him in rapid fire Russian.

Fiona waited patiently to see what developed, and was surprised when the officer turned to her and addressed her in near-accentless English:

“I am Major of Police Tatiana Orlova. What is happening here?”

Fiona, relieved at the breach of the language barrier, stumbled over her words in explanation.

“Major, I am so sorry. My name is Fiona Byers; I am a tourist, from England. I was taking photos by the river, and I think I must have taken a photo of something I shouldn’t. I’m very sorry! Please let me delete it, I promise to be much more careful.”

Orlova studied Fiona for a few moments. “You do indeed need to be very careful taking photos in Russia, Mrs Byers. This is not like the West.”

Relieved, Fiona nodded vigorously. “Of course, Major. Again, I’m very sorry.”

Orlova turned back to the custody sergeant and re-engaged him in discussion. Fiona could see him getting surlier and surlier, and hear his responses become shorter and shorter. Finally, Orlova pulled a sheet of paper off his desk, scrawled some words and a signature on it, and returned it.

“Come with me please, Mrs Byers.”

Fiona obediently followed the Major as she returned to her office, grabbed a purse and keys, and walked back towards the garage where Fiona had been brought in. Fiona struggled to keep up, finding it hard to balance with her cuffed hands, and Orlova appeared to notice, slowing her stride to allow Fiona time to catch up.

In the garage, she guided Fiona to a reserved parking spot where a regular police car was parked. She opened the rear door and carefully guided Fiona to a sitting position before taking her place in the driver’s seat.

As they headed out of the station, Fiona observed that the Moscow Militia clearly didn’t waste money on expensive vehicles for their officers. The only difference between this car, and the one she had arrived in, was that this one was actually clean and, thankfully, smelled nice.

“I am sorry for the handcuffs,” Orlova said, pulling into traffic. “Our service policy; we can’t transport arrestees unless they are restrained. You are not too uncomfortable?”

“That’s fine, Major, I totally understand.” Fiona wiggled around, trying to find the least uncomfortable angle to sit.

She paused for a moment, then tried a gambit. “If you don’t mind me saying, Major, your English is very good.”

“Thank you, Mrs Byers.” Orlova glanced in the mirror at her passenger, and Fiona caught the edge of a smile. “I spent two years at your University of Birmingham, doing my Master’s degree.” She sighed. “I fell in love with Indian curries there. You can’t get them anywhere in Moscow. I make my own, sometimes, but it’s not the same. I don’t miss the Birmingham traffic, though.”

Fiona held her tongue as Orlova swung the car into a sharp left turn ahead of oncoming traffic, narrowly missing two jaywalkers, and muttering something under her breath that sounded uncomplimentary.

“Where are you from, Mrs Byers?”

“Nottingham,” Fiona admitted. “And please, call me ‘Fiona’ if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Fiona. You can call me Tanya.” Tanya shot through an intersection just as the lights turned red, and Fiona gulped as cross-traffic came uncomfortably close to them. “I went to Nottingham once—we visited Sherwood Forest because we were curious of your Robin Hood—take from rich, give to poor. A good communist, no?”

Fiona giggled, despite herself. “I suppose so. What did you study?”

“18th Century literature; my thesis was on the mutual influences of English and Russian authors of that period.”

“Well, that’s way above my head.” Fiona’s brow furrowed. “So how did you end up as a police officer?” She caught herself. “I mean , if you don’t mind me asking—I’m sorry, I’m very nosey.”

Tanya laughed. “Not at all. My father was a senior law officer, and realistically I was always going to follow in his feet steps. I had some years to pursue my passion and become kulturnaya, but then it was time for the Academy. And here am I.“

She glanced at Fiona in the mirror. “What do you do, Fiona? When you are not being a tourist, I mean.”

“I work for a computer hardware company.” Fiona sighed. “It’s a good job, but hard work! This was my first real vacation in two years.”

“Well, let’s get you back to enjoy the rest of it.” Tanya turned off the main highway.

Fiona tried to figure out where they were going. Belatedly she realized that she hadn’t told Tanya or the custody sergeant where she was staying.

“Sorry Tanya, I should have said—I’m staying at...”

“The Intercontinental. Yes, I know.” Tanya took another turn. “Remember that form you filled in at check-in? It goes direct to us.” She grimaced. “It is one of the very few ways of information gathering we have that actually works.”

Fiona giggled. “I’m sorry. I should have remembered.” She looked out of the window and frowned. “But we’ve passed it, haven’t we?”

“We have somewhere else to go first,” Tanya explained. “Don’t worry, Fiona. We’ll return you soon. It’s not far.”

The car took a few more turns, then pulled up in front of a rolled metal gate. Tanya fished a remote out of her purse and opened it, then eased the car into the narrow tunnel that was revealed.

Fiona looked around for a clue to where they were, but the tunnel sides were blank and anonymous. Tanya drove slowly down the descending tunnel until it finally opened into a sodium-lit underground parking lot. She picked a space, then helped Fiona out of the car.

“What is this place?” Fiona looked around but there were no clues as to its purpose.

“All in time,” said Tanya, blandly. “Here, permit me...” She disappeared behind Fiona’s back, and Fiona felt the cuffs spring loose.

“Thank you!” She rubbed her wrists; the arresting officer had been none too gentle in fastening the cuffs.

“You’re welcome.” Tanya gestured towards a steel door. “Shall we?”

The door swung open after Tanya punched in a code on the keypad, and Fiona obediently followed the in Major down a long, anonymous corridor. At the end, a door with wired glass opened into a small reception room.

Tanya gestured towards the stolid, blank-faced woman who had clearly been awaiting them. “This is Sergeant Zastova, Fiona. Unfortunately, she has no sense of humor, and her English is limited to a few words. Nevertheless, could you go with her, please? I will come along when I am ready.” She barked out a few sentences in Russian.

Zastova took Fiona’s arm, firmly but not harshly, and let her through another door and down a shorter corridor. They turned a corner, and stopped outside a room with a solid, unmarked door. Zastova unlocked it with a key from her belt, and gestured Fiona inside.

To Fiona’s concern, it rather resembled a prison cell. There was a toilet and small sink in a corner, a mattress on a concrete pedestal, and very little else. No windows allowed in light, despite the ceiling being high. The only source of relief was that it was clean—everything was painted white, free of marks, and even the bedding on the mattress looked to be freshly laundered and folded.

“Change.” Zastova pointed to a pair of white scrubs at the edge of the bed. She stood there waiting, clearly not intending to move.

Fiona reluctantly removed her coat and started to undress. As she took items off, Zastova folded them and put them into a large drawstring bag. Fiona’s purse went into a smaller bag alongside it. Finally, Fiona was left in just her bra and panties. She reached for the scrubs, but Zastova shook her head and pointed at the remaining clothing. Reluctantly, Fiona removed this too, and it went in the bag along with the other items.

“Food.” Zastova pointed to a tray in the corner of the room that Fiona hadn’t noticed. She scooped up the bags, and closed the door behind her. Fiona heard the solid “click” of the lock, and gulped.

Lacking anything to do, she examined the tray. To her surprise, it looked quite edible. There was a name brand of bottled water, which appeared to be still properly sealed. A large sandwich held meat, cheese and even salad. There was an apple, and a small cake.

She sighed. She had no idea what was going on, but at least she wasn’t being mistreated. She worked her way through the meal, had a pee, then curled up on the bed. There appeared to be no way to turn off the light, but after the stress of the day’s events she was quite tired enough to fall asleep anyway.

The knocking at the door woke her, and for a moment she didn’t know where she was. Then memory came back, and she sat up on the bed, blinking.

Zastova opened the door, and beckoned her outside. The tiled floor was cold on her feet, and she looked around to see if Tanya had returned.

To her consternation, however, not only was Tanya absent, but Zastova—and a second guard of similar appearance—had brought a gurney with them. Multiple straps hanging off it let to the inescapable conclusion that it was for people in situations where they might otherwise want to leave.

Zastova pointed to the gurney. “Sit.”

Lacking options, Fiona reluctantly obeyed. Once her bottom was on the gurney, Zastova and her assistant swung Fiona’s legs onto the gurney, and gently but firmly pushed her to a lying-down position. They then pulled the straps over her and started to tighten them. Within a couple of minutes, Fiona was immobile on the gurney, with even her head held in place by a strap over her forehead.

With the two women apparently satisfied with their work, they started to push Fiona down the corridor. Unable to see where they were going, Fiona watched the lights on the corridor ceiling pass above her.

“I don’t suppose that now would be a good time to ask for someone from the British Embassy?” she asked, hopelessly. The two women ignored her.

Eventually she was brought into what seemed to be a medium-sized room. The gurney was locked in position in the middle, and Fiona was left to stare up at a bank of medical lights above her.

“Hello again, Fiona.” With something approaching relief, she saw Tanya’s face above her. The Major was no longer in her militia uniform; instead, she wore a white tunic and had her hair pinned back in a tight bun.

“Tanya! What’s happening?” Fiona tried to flex her arms, but Zastova and her friend had been very precise in their application of the restraints.

“We’re going to have a little talk, Fiona. I’m afraid I was not completely honest with you. I am a Major in the Militia, but my real role is a Senior Colonel in the Committee for State Security.”

“The... the KGB?” Fiona’s forehead wrinkled. “Don’t you mean the FSB? Or the SVR?”

Tanya laughed gently, showing her perfect teeth. “I am afraid not. Those organizations do intelligence work for the morons in our government, that is true. But the KGB never really went away. We have our own needs, mostly to do with power—and money is power, of course.”

She held up a photo; it was of a man in a General’s uniform. Fiona noticed the Cyrillic “GB” on his shoulderboards.

“My father was in law enforcement—but it was the KGB who enforced the law. As the Soviet Union came apart, he saw the need for the KGB to draw into itself and make a new future in the ‘new Russia’.”

She gestured around the room. “And we took all the knowledge the KGB acquired in the tools of spycraft, of interrogation, of manipulation of body and mind. We have made some improvements, of course.”

A nurse approached and swabbed the crook of Fiona’s arm. There was a sting, and Fiona gasped.

“You’re going to... torture me? But I haven’t done anything! I don’t know anything,” she whimpered.

Tanya appeared shocked. “Oh, my dear Fiona, we aren’t going to hurt you. Quite the contrary, in fact.” She gestured at the nurse who was standing by, impassive. “This is just a little cocktail to open your mind, and let me in.” She smiled, warmly. “It’ll make you feel nice and floaty. You can probably feel it now, can’t you?”

She was correct. Fiona’s mind was starting to go hazy, and her eyesight was playing up—it was as if she were drunk.

“That’s right, my dear, just relax.” She said something in Russian, and Fiona was vaguely aware of her scrub pants being slid down. Something was taped to either side of her forehead.

Tanya adjusted her seat so she was behind Fiona, looking down at the woman’s face. Fiona found herself pinned by Tanya’s ice blue eyes.

“I’ve been so looking forward to this.” She caressed Fiona’s cheek. “Making this connection with you, Fiona. It’s such a special thing that we girls have, isn’t it?”

Fiona felt soft fingers start to spread and stroke the lips of her sex, and moaned.

“Just forget everything else, Fiona. Just you and me here, together, timeless...” The lights in the room started to pulse, and they appeared to be in perfect time with Fiona’s heartbeat. Helpless, she continued to stare at Tanya who was murmuring things that she struggled to make out.

“Some more medicine for you, I think...” A second sting in her arm, and now the whole room appeared to be spinning except for Tanya’s face which was locked in place. Fiona’s mind, now totally scrambled, focused on the only thing she could. Pulses of sexual pleasure were coming up from her sex as it was gently manipulated.

“That’s it, let’s go deeper and deeper...” The lights started to strobe now, and Fiona’s vision tunnelled. She was only vaguely aware of Tanya’s words; “...into your mind, into your soul, we will implant Tanya....”

Fiona blinked awake. She was back in the cell again, curled on her bed. What had happened? Was it a dream? She scratched at her elbow, and saw two small needle marks there. Not a dream, then.

There was another food tray, and she realized that she was starving. She worked her way through it, then fell back down on the bed. What were they doing to her?

She closed her eyes, and tried to fall asleep again. This time, however, every time she started to drift off, she saw Tanya’s face gazing down at her. Those ice blue eyes... and she felt a stirring inside her.

Finally, she gave in. She reached inside her pants and started to bring herself off, eyes closed and seeing that picture of Tanya’s perfect face. It took only a couple of minutes for her to come loudly, and she lay gasping on the bed for a few minutes before drifting off.

The cameras in the cell were concealed behind white panels in the wall. Tanya watched, smiling, as Fiona brought herself off; the microphones picked up her moans of “Tanya! Oh, Tanya!” quite clearly.

“She’s perfectly on track, of course,” she remarked to the KGB doctor updating Fiona’s file. “Let’s give her two hours of sleep, then wake her up in the middle of REM for the next part.”

“Of course, Comrade Senior Colonel.” The doctor ran her finger down a column of numbers. “Her best response looks to be in the 550Hz band. Shall we start with that, and adapt?”

“If you think so, Comrade Doctor.” Tanya sipped at the last dregs of her tea, held in an elegant silver frame. “I’m going to take a short nap. I’ll see you in the Room of Inquiry.”

It felt as if Fiona had only just closed her eyes when the knocking came again. She groaned, blearily peering through half-closed lids as Zastova entered the cell.

“Stand.”

Fiona staggered to her feet, groggily trying to orient herself.

A buzzing sound came from the walls. Without warning, Fiona felt her body tense in reflex.

“Undress.” This came in Tanya’s voice, as the buzzing increased in complexity.

Fiona’s hands automatically went to her scrubs, and started to pull them off. The tiny part of Fiona’s mind that was still independent was shocked at how her body was reacting without her intervention, but it was clearly way outside her control.

“Lie on the gurney outside.” Fiona’s legs propelled her outside to where the gurney was waiting, and she found herself supine on the gurney before a thought had crossed her mind.

Zastova and her companion applied the straps again, although this time in a slightly different position: Fiona’s legs were secured much farther apart.

The buzzing ceased, and Fiona felt control return to her. It was academic, of course; the gurney left her no freedom of movement. Resigned, she watched the ceiling as she was returned to the previous room. Tanya was waiting for her, of course, with a smile on her face.

“Hello again, my dear Fiona. We’re going to have a lovely time together.”

The nurse reappeared, and Fiona felt a sting in her other arm.

Tanya reached above Fiona’s head and turned on a red light. She carefully adjusted its position and focus so that it centered on Fiona’s right eye. With her head held immobile, Fiona had no option to avoid it.

“What are you doing to me, Tanya?” she whispered. “I’m feeling very strange...”

The nurse started to lay out some instruments between Fiona’s spread legs, and connect up wires to some equipment.

“You might think it strange now, but soon it will feel perfectly normal.” Tanya peered briefly at a monitor to Fiona’s side. “We need to implant some thoughts deep inside your mind, so we’ll use the medicine to turn off your higher brain functions. You’re probably already finding it hard to think.”

She was correct; Fiona’s train of thought was being repeatedly derailed. She found it extremely hard to hold a thought for more than a few seconds.

The nurse picked up a small wand and applied it directly to Fiona’s clit. She gasped as the sensation penetrated the fog of the drug.

“The stimulation will keep your mind nicely wide open for me to go inside.” Tanya leaned down, and Fiona found their eyes locked together once more. “Nothing else matters, does it? You’re floating on a sea of clouds, just you and me, together.” Fiona’s ears started to ring. “Look deep inside my eyes, Fiona. Look inside, see my thoughts, feel my thoughts become yours...” The room lights started to pulse again, in time with Fiona’s rapid heartbeat.

“Why...” The red light started to flicker rapidly, an irregular pulsing that tapped directly into Fiona’s mind. It drew the last dregs of her concentration from her, and left her gazing blankly up at Tanya’s smiling face.

“Now, Fiona, tell me about your workplace...”

Half an hour later, Tanya had gently extracted a sheaf of information from the stunned Fiona about her company’s operations, prototype hardware, and commercial contracts. The girl had been completely unable to resist the questioning, with her mind pulled in all directions by the visual and sexual stimulation. Tanya’s nurse was still gently applying low levels of vibration to Fiona, but had ramped it down in response to signals from Tanya.

“I think we’re ready for the deep implant now,” Tanya observed. She turned on a blue light and focused it on Fiona’s other eye. “She’ll be highly receptive at this point.”

The nurse drew up a new syringe and pushed the drug into Fiona’s vein. The girl didn’t even react.

“Perfect.” Tanya leaned back over Fiona. “Now you’re going to let me inside you. All the way inside you.” The nurse applied gel to a couple of metal probes and inserted the first into Fiona’s sex. “Into your most... intimate places.” A second probe parted Fiona’s cheeks and settled inside her bottom. “Let me give you... ecstacy.” The nurse powered on a control unit, and Fiona gasped as electrical pulses started inside her.

“Look at me, Fiona. Look past the lights...” The blue and red lights on Fiona’s eyes were now flickering in different patterns, scrambling her brain’s visual processing. Only the outline of Tanya’s face was now registering with her, and the new drug was breaking any inhibition that she might previously have had.

“That’s right, my dear. Down and down we go... deep inside you... open up and let me in. There’s nothing you want more, is there?” She gestured to the nurse, who turned up the electricity, and Fiona whined incoherently, her body shaking under the straps.

“When you wake, Fiona... you’ll be all mine.”

An hour of treatment later, the unconscious Fiona was returned to her cell, gently lifted onto her mattress and covered with her sheets. Meanwhile, Tanya studied her notes from the session.

“I think we have everything I need. Give her six hours to sleep, and get the drugs out of her system, then I’ll take her back.”

Fiona woke in her cell once more. This time she felt refreshed, not groggy, but her head was full of very strange dreams. She lay there for a few minutes, trying to make sense of things.

A knock on the cell door, and Zastova entered. She was carrying a couple of bags.

“Dress.” She held them out to Fiona.

Fiona cautiously opened the first one. Sure enough, it was her clothes. She slid out from under the sheets, belatedly noticing that she was naked, and started to pull on her underwear.

Zastova retreated outside the cell, allowing Fiona space to dress. She found that not only had her purse—and passport—been returned, even her camera had been. Out of curiosity, she scrolled through its photos; all photos of that fateful day had been erased. She sighed; it could have been so much worse.

Once fully dressed, she cautiously emerged from the cell. Zastova had been awaiting her.

“Come.” She led the wary Fiona back down the corridor to the waiting room. There, Tanya awaited, now back in her immaculate militia uniform.

“Hello, Fiona. Let’s get you back to the Intercontinental, shall we?” She gestured at the door which led to the garage.

Fiona found herself back in the rear seat of Tanya’s car, but this time without handcuffs. She watched with glazed eyes as they left the building, and took a number of turns before Tanya pulled into the hotel parking garage.

“Here we are, Fiona. Come with me.”

She led the dazed Fiona into the hotel elevator, using the key card she had retrieved from Fiona’s purse, and took them up to the fourth floor.

Fiona had a small suite, and Tanya admired the decor as they entered. She had not visited this hotel before beyond the lobby—generally, dealing with her militia when they had a dispute with a visiting siloviki—and it was always interesting to see how the tourists lived.

She pulled a small device out of her purse and switched it on. A complex hum filled the room, and she was pleased to see Fiona reflexively stiffen in response.

“Undress, lie on the bed. Wait for me.”

Fiona obediently, thoughtlessly, started to shed her clothes. Tanya pulled off her boots and entered the bathroom, supremely confident that Fiona would await her indefinitely.

Fiona lay face up on the bed, staring at the ceiling; her conscious mind paralyzed by the humming device. She was aware of time passing, but it simply seemed not to matter to her.

The bathroom door opened, and Tanya reentered the room. This was a different Tanya, however; the same bearing, the same ice blue eyes, but now her blond hair fell to her bare shoulders, and her eyes now had a hungry look to them.

Her nakedness barely registered with Fiona, who was captured once more by the eyes. She lay immobile as Tanya slowly climbed onto the bed and lowered herself into a straddle across Fiona’s chest. Fiona felt the tickle of the blonde pubic fur on her breasts, and shivered.

“Show me your loyalty, Fiona. Serve me.” Tanya slowly walked her knees up Fiona’s sides until her sex was pressing against her servant’s chin. She braced her hands on the back of her hips, and made a slow push forwards.

Fiona obediently opened her mouth and pressed her lips against Tanya’s, smelling the musk of the older woman. She briefly savored the warmth, and then started to slide her tongue inside. Her nose nuzzled into the fur, and the wave of scent almost overwhelmed her.

“That’s my girl,” Tanya breathed, pushing a little further. “Taste me, Fiona. Taste every inch.”

Fiona belatedly realized that the humming had stopped, but by now she was buried in Tanya’s sex, and it was the only thing in the world for her. She strenuously stroked, licked and kissed, until she could barely breathe.

Then Tanya slid off her, and she took a few moments to regain her breath. As she focused on the room once more, she saw Tanya sliding something up her legs.

“On all fours, Fiona.” Tanya’s voice was husky, but still brooked no refusal. Fiona obediently rolled onto all fours on the bed, gazing at her mistress.

As Tanya approached the bed again, Fiona saw that she was now wearing a strap-onharness. From it protruded a wide scarlet dildo.

“Open your mouth, Fiona.” She obeyed, and felt the dildo slide in, pushing her tongue down. As it entered, she noticed a small yellow hammer-and-sickle emblem on its side.

“Suck it.”

Fiona diligently began to suck, running her lips up and down the dildo. The scent of Tanya’s sex had returned, only a few inches from her nose, and it was almost hypnotic.

Tanya carefully pushed the dildo a little further into Fiona’s mouth, and Fiona almost gagged, but kept faithfully servicing the toy.

“Very good...” Tanya slowly removed the dildo. “Stay where you are.” She disappeared behind Fiona.

Fiona patiently waited, then felt the mattress underneath her depress as Tanya climbed up behind her.

“Now, Fiona, as the next part of your service; let me inside you.” Tanya’s voice came from just behind Fiona’s left ear. Fiona gulped. Something started to gently probe at the lips of her sex.

“This is how we connect, Fiona. This is how you become part of me.” The dildo pushed in further, and Fiona whimpered as she felt herself stretched. Tanya was patient, however, and let it sit for a few moments before sliding it partway out again.

“It’s just me and you here, Fiona. Just the two of us. Nothing else matters, does it?” The dildo returned, an inch or so further in, and Fiona moaned, unable to speak. She felt Tanya’s warm hands take hold of her waist.

“Serve me, Fiona. Here I am!” A sudden thrust, and Fiona screamed in a blend of ecstacy and pain, filled to the brim with Tanya. She panted, tears dripping from her eyes, feeling her legs and back tremble. Tanya’s hips pressed against her buttocks, and her hands held Fiona against her.

“That’s it, Fiona,” Tanya purred. “We’re together, at last. Doesn’t it feel good?” She slid a little way out, and back again, and now Fiona’s arms were trembling too. “You’ve always wanted this, haven’t you?”

“Tanya...” Fiona was unable to complete the thought. She felt Tanya adjust her angle slightly, and now the ribs of the dildo pushed across Fiona’s clit, making her gasp.

“My darling little servant...” Tanya started a slow rhythm of pushing into Fiona, and the girl moaned in time with the thrusting. She felt the warning signs of a climax begin, deep within her.

“All you want to do is serve Tanya.” The thrusting sped up, and Fiona had to grip the edge of the mattress as her whole body started to tense. “It’s the only thing that matters, isn’t it?” Fiona gave a small cry as the dildo pushed especially deep on one thrust. “Serve me, Fiona. Take me inside you. Let me fill you.” The climax started to build, and tears pricked at Fiona’s eyes. “All you want. All you need. Is... Tanya!” Fiona threw back her head and screamed, as the climax peaked, and Tanya pulled their bodies together. She shook in Tanya’s arms, forgetting everything of where they were, as the orgasm filled her.

There was a blur of time, and then she found herself lying on her side on the mattress, covered with a sheet, her body feeling like warm Jell-o. Had she slept? Was she dreaming? She blearily opened her eyes to find Tanya standing there, still naked, regarding her with an amused expression.

“Tanya... It felt... it was...”

“I know, Fiona. I know.” Tanya pulled a small envelope from her bag, and placed it on Fiona’s bedside table. “Here are my instructions for you, Fiona. Open them when you have returned to England. Follow them exactly, and you will please me. You want to please me, don’t you, Fiona? You want to do anything for me.”

“Anything...” Deep inside herself, Fiona knew Tanya was correct. She would do anything for her.

“You’re such a good girl, Fiona. You’re such a good servant.” Tanya sat on the bed, tugging the sheet to one side, and stroked Fiona’s side. “Letting me inside you feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“So good,” whimpered Fiona. “Never felt like that before...”

Tanya laughed quietly. “Of course you haven’t. You can only feel like that with me.” She caressed Fiona’s buttocks. “I know many secrets, Fiona. Many, many ways to give pleasure. You’d like me to show you them, wouldn’t you?”

Fiona bit her lip and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Well, then...” There was a pause, then Fiona felt cool, slick fingers circulating around her starfish. “It’s not just your pussy which can give you pleasure, Fiona. There are other places, too.” One slender finger briefly penetrated her, making her gasp. Then a second finger, which twirled around inside her, making her feel strange, and twitchy.

Tanya leaned over and whispered into her ear: “We Russians learned many secrets from the odalisques of the Ottoman Empire. Why don’t I show you what some of their most intimate skills can do to a woman?”

Tanya exited the bathroom, freshly showered, back in uniform with her hair pinned back. She smiled at the sleeping Fiona, half-covered in a sheet.

“Ah, Fiona. Helpless as a baby.” She checked that the envelope was clearly visible on the bedside table. The instructions within it would ensure a full compromise of Fiona’s company’s IT systems as soon as they were followed, and would earn Tanya substantial approval from her bosses.

She dimmed the room lights and moved silently to the door.

“Do svidania, Fiona. Until we meet again.“