The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

First Iteration.

At first Emily had thought that she was dreaming although, as she began to regain her faculties, she realise that things didn’t make sense: or rather they made less sense than they normally did to a twenty year old University student.

Her eyes flickered open, or at least she dreamt that they did... It must have been a dream because everything looked a dull, featureless grey.

Then there was the noise... Was it this that had woken her up? Assuming that she had been asleep in the first place, that is. It was a pulsing, hissing noise rather like waves breaking on shingle... Or may be it wasn’t!

...and there was the cold... Well she didn’t actually feel cold: but then she wasn’t warm either... Suddenly she felt a breeze play momentarily across her skin and then everything was still once more. The breeze seemed to reach places that breezes normally didn’t and she frowned. Had someone just opened a door? Was that what had caused the breeze?

It was a dream—it must be!

But then if it was a dream, what was she dreaming about? Dreams always made sense... Well, they did, didn’t they? Or at least hers always seemed too for she prided herself on being a sensible and well-organised person.

The last real thing that she had remembered was the campfire. Sitting out under the summer stars watching the flames flickering, enjoying the warm feeling of its glow on her face. She had snuggled up against Tony, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm protectively around her. Well she had thought protective while he had probably thought possessive but she didn’t mind: he was her boyfriend after all and she loved him so he would learn the error of that sort of thinking sooner or later.

The grey light intensified and reminded her of a very dense fog... Yes, that was it! It must be foggy! Well it was early September and autumn was coming, the nights were drawing in and the recently warm weather was cooling and winter would be here soon.

She stretched, or rather tried too.

Only she couldn’t.

Something was holding her and it wasn’t Tony’s arms.

She began to panic; or rather she didn’t. She actually felt calm and this really irked her. Why, she wondered, did she feel so calm? She relaxed again for there was nothing wrong, or at least there was nothing wrong that mattered.

Then the grey light began to pulse:

Brighter, dimmer...

Brighter, dimmer...

Brighter, dimmer...

Brighter, dimmer...

On and on and on it pulsed in perfect sync with the hissing noise in her ears... That was a kind of pulsing too, wasn’t it?

Why am I so calm? She thought in a sort of odd, detached way. Nothing makes sense, but then does it ever?

“Is anybody there?” She called, or rather tried too until, that is, she realised that there was something filling her mouth: something soft like a rubber dogtoy, that gave slightly when she bit down on it—not that she could bite-down very far.

She tried to open her mouth but found that she couldn’t: there was a strap or something under her jaw preventing this. Was it a strap or was it some sort of mask? She frowned slightly and realised that she was only puzzled... Why aren’t I terrified? She wondered in an odd sort of detached way.

The grey light pulsed... The hissing sound rose and fell... The breeze returned and blew across her pussy. How can it do that? Surely I’m not... Naked?

Panic suddenly rose from deep down within her for the first time... She was naked! Was someone watching?

She sensed movement, someone was watching. She tried to scream but only managed a muffled squeak. Something pressed against her neck and there was a sharp, pricking sensation. Emily tried to pull away but couldn’t and whatever had been pressing against her was removed or was it pulled out?

A warm glow seemed to spread out from her neck and she relaxed once more...

Does it matter?

Do I matter?

Does anything matter?

The pulses of light seemed to change as a spot intensified at the centre of the greyness. A bright spot that attracted her attention. The spot gradually became an attractive shade of lilac and then began to pulse against a now steady grey background. Emily stared and sighed... Pretty! So pretty!

The hissing seemed to fall away at this point and was replace by music that sounded like something by Mozart—something with too many notes. The music was nice!

The pulsing lilac spot deepened to royal purple and began to turn—began to spread out—began to change into a slow, lazy spiral... A spiral that turned and began to draw her into its friendly, loving heart.

She relaxed even more.

Hey! She thought, slightly puzzled. There’s something in my pussy.

And the something began to pulse in time with the turning spiral while in her ears, Mozart played on.

Time passed... Her bladder felt full... She relieved herself but there was no sensation of wetness only Mozart, the spiral and her pulsating pussy. Emily giggled around her gag.

“Good girl!” Said the voice.

So there is someone else... She thought, but the thought died away and she relaxed into the music once more. Nothing else mattered.

“Good girl.” The voice repeated, it was a rich, plummy, upper-class voice... A female voice... A reassuring voice that reminded her of one of her primary school teachers.

There was something about the voice... It seemed to come from everywhere...

“Are you ready for the next level?” The voice enquired, its tone conveying amusement..

Emily sighed..

The spiral turned and the purple became edged with gold—Pretty! Or so Emily thought. The pulses became more intense and she became aware of other things... The music seemed to have a voice somewhere within it: an insistent voice that was probably telling her something very important.

You are a very good girl.” Her teacher informed her before asking. “Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.”

Emily sighed around her gag and relaxed into a calm, submissive state. After all nothing mattered, did it?

Nothing but the music...

Nothing but the spiral...

Nothing but the pussy-pulses.

Previous Life

It had been a wonderful, relaxing holiday: Debra’s aunt had paid for it as a birthday present for her twenty-one year old niece and for her friends too. She’d said that student’s needed a break so that they would be in a fit state to face the autumn term—hence the offer of a holiday. Debra and her girlfriend plus Emily and her boyfriend... Perfect for a relaxing holiday!

Auntie had rented a cottage for them up in the Welsh mountains. Well it was more of a cabin than a cottage and was about as secluded as it was possibly to get in the UK except, that is, for some of the remoter parts of Scotland. There had just been the four of them: Emily and Tony plus Debra and Madge, Debra’s girlfriend. Tony hadn’t been too keen about them sharing a mountain cabin with a lesbian couple, but well, it was a free holiday... At first Emily couldn’t see what her boyfriend was fussing over but then she realised that the male ego was to blame and that he no doubt found the idea of a pair of independent women to be threatening. In the end the lure of a free holiday plus a fortnight with the love of his life had been enough to convince him. Well that plus a little psychological pressure from Emily herself when she had asked him why he was frightened of a couple of girls.

Tony had blustered: he wasn’t frightened of girls, how could he be? Emily had then smiled to herself and enquired as to whether he thought that she should be frightened too? They were lesbians after all. He still looked uneasy so she had informed him that she was going anyway and then asked him if he was afraid of any possible competition... The lad had gone quiet in an attempt to hide what he was imagining. “No,” he mumbled, “it’ll be a wonderful holiday.”

And the holiday was—right up until the day that they had decided to have an evening campfire and bar-b-cue.

Second Iteration

Mozart played on and on, only it wasn’t Mozart, it wasn’t really music either—or at least not music like any that Emily had ever heard before. On the other hand, it might have been something that he had composed when he wasn’t feeling very well for it didn’t seem to have a start or an end and just went on and on endlessly.

Emily hadn’t much idea about music per se. As far as she was concerned it was just something that you listened to, usually in the background while doing something interesting. She hadn’t much idea about composing it, but it must be easy enough for the real hard work being done by the people that played it—they were the gifted geniuses...

Mozart played on and the voice behind the rapidly changing and cycling notes became more and more insistent. Emily strained but couldn’t quite make out the words... May be they weren’t in English. Had she strayed into someone else’s dream?

Still, the music was nice...

The spiral was pretty...

The pulsating thingy inside her thingy was divine...

Saliva dripped down onto her breast as she was drooled around her gag but she scarcely noticed. Then something or someone wiped it off which caused her breast to bounce fluidly in the way that breasts do but again she scarcely noticed.

Time passed and the young woman dreamed on.

Then the spiral changed an the image of a woman appeared behind it. She was a beautiful woman, a sexy woman, a stately woman: older than Emily herself, but the type of woman that she knew that she could fall for if she was into women...

This realisation cause her to gasp with surprise and then to whimper in shock. She wasn’t into women...

Something brushed against her skin and she experience the pricking sensation once again—not that she was able to recall it happening before. She relaxed again and seemed to forget about everything that wasn’t the music...

That wasn’t the voice...

That wasn’t the turning spiral...

That wasn’t the pulsating thingy...

That wasn’t the beautiful woman...

Slowly the spiral faded and the benign face filled her world... There was now nothing except the woman... All other things forgotten, the woman was her world.

The woman smile and Emily orgasmed then the dream faded and Emily slipped into a deep sleep while the voice muttered on.

She was groggy, nothing seemed to make sense, where was she? Slowly, very slowly, Emily’s frown faded as she realised that she could see and hear things around her...

The grey-glow had gone...

The beautiful Goddess had gone...

Mozart and the whispering voice had gone...

The campfire had gone...

The cabin had gone...

And once again she could move, or rather some of her could. She twisted her head around experimentally and saw that she was in a smallish room—a room with white translucent walls but no windows, or at least none in front of her. Something was stopping her looking behind.

She wasn’t alone for there were two other figures in the room with her or at least two others that she could see. She recognised them despite their heavy black gags: the red-head was Debra and the mousey-blonde her girlfriend, Madge. They were very still but seemed to be looking at her. She tried to call out to them but couldn’t as there was still something in her mouth... She sighed and drooled around the sides of it.

She looked at the other girls—was she naked and kneeling on a dais just like they were?

Were her arms secured somewhere behind her back the same as theirs?

Did she too have a heavy black mask over her mouth and the lower part of her face?

Was her pussy encased in some sort of black cover, too?

Emily screwed up her eyes and then opened them again and yes, Debra and Madge were still there. This time she noticed other details... They seemed to be attached to beams that ran from floor to ceiling: beams that kept them in those restricted positions. And were those supports, the black cylinders jammed under their armpits?

Emily groaned.

What was happening?

Where were they?

What was being done to them?

Where was Tony?

Suddenly Debra seemed to jerk and look up. Her eyes met Emily’s. They showed that she was as surprised and shocked as Emily felt. Her gaze moved downwards and she looked across at her friends breasts with their engorge and aroused nipples. They weren’t big breasts, but they were larger than Emily’s. She felt a pang of jealousy. And then one of shock for she realised that she was staring at another girl’s breasts,

Madge suddenly jerked back to consciousness in exactly the same way and all three women stared at each other. Thoughts welled up in their minds—thoughts that none of them could articulate thanks to the gags. But thoughts non-the-less.

They remained there: fixed in position and unmoving for an unknown length of time during which the brightness of their room remained constant as did the heavy silence that indicated some sort of sound proofing. Emily tried to work out where they were but soon realised that this was impossible. The room could be anywhere.

Suddenly, quite suddenly and without any sort of warning, the music crashed back at full volume. The women all jumped in surprise an turned their heads this way and that but none of them could tell where it was coming from... But it was different now and it no longer resembled Mozart or indeed any other type of music that Emily could recall. The new iteration of their musical accompaniment consisted of a rhythmic succession of notes: an endless progression of notes in a sequence of never-ending phrases: a continuous and infinite stream of mindless lift music played by a full philharmonic orchestra... If in deed the stuff played in lifts could ever be described as music, that is.

The voice was there, though, still embedded in the sonorous jangling tangle of notes. Notes that rose and fell in rhythmic pulses that exactly matched the ‘whatever it was’ that was pulsating inside her pussy. She looked across, first at Debra and then at Madge who slowly shook her head in resignation for it seemed that she didn’t know what was going on either.

The room suddenly changed again as light levels began to pulse in time with everything else. The white walls changed too as a spectrum of colour burst across them: white changed to red changed to orange changed to yellow changed to green changed to blue dimmed to indigo changed to violet changed to red and so on. Then the changes speeded up as did the music as did the pussy-pulses. Changes and pulses accelerated until the music reached a crescendo and remained there: the pulses became a vibration: the light show became a flicker: Emily’s mindless drooling became a stream that trickled down her unresisting body joining another one that trickle out of her pussy. The shield proving as ineffective a seal as the gag.

Suddenly all three women screamed around their gags and orgasmed again and again and again before passing out just as silence fell and the room became dark.

Time passed because that is the only thing that it ever does and eventually it became a new.... Well a new something as day and night no longer existed for the women.

Third Iteration

Mozart was back as was the grey fog, and Emily slowly awoke and again found herself to be in a personal purdah. She was quite alone once more but strangely felt secure and safe non-the-less as she knew there was nothing or no one here who wanted to hurt her.

Oddly enough she felt neither hunger nor thirst nor bodily discomfort. Her mouth was moist, although there was a faint chemical taste that she put down to the gag which she bit into and once more it gave slightly but nothing else happened.

Mozart carried on in the background and, yes, she could still hear the foreign-sounding voice muttering away inside the music. Was it, she wondered, Mozart himself speaking to her across the years explaining his master piece to her in words that she couldn’t understand?

Then it happened: the grey light pulsed once more and was gone, replaced by the gorgeous woman from earlier. The woman seemed to stare straight into the heart of Emily’s soul. The woman smiled beatifically. The music speeded up slightly and the woman’s picture began to change to different views of the same woman... Different poses... Different clothes... But the same wonderful, sexy Goddess non-the-less...

Views of the Goddess wearing different outfits, all of which both fitted and suited her perfectly. Dresses, business suits, bikinis, skirts and blouses, evening dresses, saris, even riding boots, Jhodpurs and a hacking jacket... Picture after picture after picture each one immaculate... Each one resembling a page from a millionaire’s fashion catalogue.

Losing all sense of time, Emily stared at the divine woman and drooled. And what a woman she was: a statuesque ravenette with pale skin and ice-blue eyes. She didn’t know the woman and didn’t recognise her but knew that she needed too make her acquaintance. More than that, the girl needed too belong to the woman or her life would be forever meaningless.

“Come for me!” Said the woman and suddenly the thing in Emily’s pussy gave out an enormous pulse of stimulation and she orgasmed there and then.

“Good girl!!” Said the woman before everything faded into grey, silent stillness once more.

Fourth Iteration

Mozart and the beautiful woman were gone but Debra and Madge were back still kneeling and supported by frames that looked like the one to which she was secured.

She longed to ask them if they had been brought into the presence of that divine Goddess too but obviously couldn’t. This wasn’t the only longing that now possessed her for she longed to caress the breasts that were displayed not ten feet from her. Not just the breasts either for she longed to fuck both Debra and Madge and to have them fuck her in return.

Then, no sooner than she experienced these longings than the thing in her pussy buzzed into life and rapidly brought her to orgasm once more.

She heard the voice once more... The Goddess’s divine voice... “Right thinking will always be rewarded so think only righteous thoughts.” She purred.

Debra and Madge both stared at their friend as she seemed to collapse into a twitching, drooling mess that was only prevented from slumping to the floor by her frame and the support-bars under her arm pits—if that was what they were.

Maintenance

When Emily eventually regained consciousness she saw that she was still held securely in the luminous white room with its white walls, white ceiling and white floors. Debra and Madge were still there too although their positions had been reversed and Madge was now to the left of her girlfriend. Emily frowned at this... Did it mean that things happened of which she had no recollection? She shrugged when she realise that this didn’t matter either.

Another frown then something else dawned upon her: she had been locked in the same position for an unknown number of days(?) so why didn’t her entire body ache?

She was just puzzling over this fact when a she caught sight of movement out of of the corner of her eye. Her head swivelled around, seemingly of its own accord and she gasped when she came face to face with the new woman.

The newcomer, however wasn’t like anyone else she had previously met and there were certain things about her that penetrated to the core of Emily’s chemically subdued being. The woman was bald and she was silver!

Emily suddenly felt light-headed due to a mix of shock and longing for she really was a silver woman, or to be more precise a tall, sleek, silver woman who clack-clacked along, her in silver high-heeled boots. She was also pulling a small cart of a similar type to those found in some supermarkets and even the cart was silver.

At first sight Emily had thought that the woman was wearing something like a one-piece jumpsuit or even a wetsuit complete with a belt and a tight-fitting balaclava-style hood, but she wasn’t. In fact she didn’t seem to be wearing anything other than her silver boots, a silver equipment belt and possibly a pair of skin-tight silver gloves, for her fingers were featureless and without discernable nails.

As she passed between Emily and her friends it was suddenly obvious that the skin-tight garment that she wore was in actual fact tight-skin. Smooth, hairless skin but skin non-the-less.

When she turned gracefully to face Emily and the woman caught a waft of the newcomer’s musky feminine odour. She became aware of other things too. Many other things. She was aware that.....

That the tops of the woman’s boots seemed to blend into the skin of her legs somewhere mid-calf—well Emily assumed that she was wearing boots!

That there was some sort of shield over her crotch that bulged ever so slightly and hid the little groove above her pussy making her as smooth as a doll. The shield had a definite outline—was it detachable?

That the belt had pouches and was a broad enough to hide her navel—assuming that she had one.

That her breasts seemed to possess some sort of internal support all of their very own and did not flop and bounce as much as would be expected organs of that size too.

Moving upwards, Emily’s gaze fell on something that could have been a choker or a collar that stood out mainly because it was black and shiny like patent leather but very thin and highly flexible—so thin, in fact that it might have been painted on. It also had something moulded into it—something that looked remarkably like a bar code and right at the front was a circular black disc displaying a gold serial number that proclaimed her to be T17.

Then there was her head which came as a complete surprise to Emily for her head was smooth, shiny and the same metallic-silver as the rest of the woman: the head was completely devoid of hair any other ornamentation. Emily had never seen a bald woman before, or at least not in real life. From time to time they were used as a device in certain naf American films but this was the first time that she had ever encountered one in the flesh, if she was indeed made of flesh, that is.

Emily’s gazed moved on to the face—the truly beautiful face, devoid of eyebrows, was a uniform silver colour except for the generous, plump lips which were a darker, almost gunmetal, shade. Her eyes, with their pale-grey pupils looked very human and seemed to be out of place in a body that looked so familiar looking yet so alien. Was she truly a woman or was she a machine created in the image of a woman?... A female machine or a machine-female? Emily drooled around her gag... She didn’t know exactly what was facing her but she did know that she desperately wanted to have sex with it!

T17 turned to face Emily and smiled revealing healthy white teeth. It was a pleasant smile and looked so genuine that Emily felt both her heart and pussy flutter.

Then, T17 turned to retrieve something from her cart, the bound woman could see that there were small extensions that reached up from her collar and vanished behind each ear. She frowned, puzzled for a moment but rapidly forgot about it almost at once, such was the power of the woman’s projected sexuality.

T17 lifted an object out of her little cart. It looked like a black plastic water bottle with a hose dangling from it. She attached the bottle to the beam somewhere above Emily’s head and plugged the hose into the woman’s mask.

This puzzled the captive for a few seconds until she tasted something like cold chicken soup or rather chicken soup with a flat metallic-chemical undertone. Not withstanding this. she drank it greedily for she hadn’t realised just how hungry she had become.

The silver women then patted Emily on the head before moving over to Debra and Madge to whom she attached similar-looking feeding bottles. This gave Emily a wonderfully unobstructed view of the woman’s well-padded and fully-rounded arse and as she bent over. She also received a momentary glimpse of a little puckered rosebud nestling between her cheeks. This sighting being the thing that finally dispelled any lingering doubts about clothing or rather the lack of it.

This done, she moved across to Emily’s left where she stood motionlessly at an easy attention for about half an hour before returning to remove the empty bottles prior to leaving the captive women alone once more.

Fifth and Subsequent Iterations

Time passed, although Emily recalled little of what actually happened and began to wonder if anything really did. She spent the majority of it in her own personal grey fog where she listened to Mozart and the accompanying chatter while worshipping the image of the beautiful and divine Goddess.

The display changed and began to show her images of other women in twos or in small groups captured during moments of beautiful intimacy. Happy women engaged in activates that would previously have shocked Emily and titillated Tony, the male who was her boy-friend. Actually she no longer thought of him as such—mainly because she no longer thought of him at all. For Tony had been deleted a couple of iterations previously and Emily hadn’t notice his passing for there was no ‘Tony’ shaped gap remaining in her memories.

Images of sexy women were interspersed with those of The Goddess whose identity was no longer puzzling Emily... She was The Goddess and that was all anyone needed to know.

Straight Emily had been changed by her stay in the white room although she was unaware of this for as far as her altered mind was concerned, she had always been the current Emily and Emily had always been exactly what she was now. And even though she would soon be changed even more, she would not notice as her memories, personality and sexuality were realigned to make her better suited for whatever it was that lay before her. Too her, everything was as it always had been os in effect, nothing had change.

Her time in the isolation brought on by Mozart and the fog-grey were interspersed by time spent in the white room where her body was cared for in company with Debra’s and Madge’s.

T17 as almost always there as were other similarly clad women on occasion. Emily didn’t know who they were or what they were: in fact all she did know was that she fancied them like crazy.

After she had fed them on chicken soup, T17 always checked them over before leaving as silently as she had first arrived. She seemed to be pleased with their progress and never departed without giving them a beaming smile, a head pat and a quick fondle...

Something that Emily began to look forward too...

Began to need...

Began to crave...

Then one day(???), everything changed.

Final Iteration

It happened one morning—if morning it truly was. Although in a poetic or lifestyle sense it was the dawning of a new morning, the dawning of the first day of the rest of Emily’s life; although Emily, like Tony before, had been truly forgotten by Emily herself. As yet she was no one and would remain as such until the moment that her new identity was bestowed upon her.

Emily awoke in the white room and straight away realised that something had changed... There was nothing wrong that she could see but things or at least somethings, were different.

She glanced across at the two females who were on the supports that face her... She no longer knew their names but she was aware that they were familiar to her and had been part of her life for as far back as she could remember, which admittedly was not very long. They, she suspected, were different for they had changed and were now metallic silver.

She looked down as far as she could bend her head and saw that she too seemed to have changed, or had she always been silver? She thought about it for a time and shrugged when she realised that it wasn’t important and that she wasn’t important either.

The three restrained women regarded each other with vague puzzlement and then relaxed as they simultaneously realised that the only thing that mattered was The Goddess whose image they had been worshipping for longer than any of them could remember. Then, relaxing at more or less the same time, the three silver women waited patiently for instructions... ‘Waiting’ being the one thing that they did best.

T17 entered the white room after some unmeasured time had passed. She came in and walked slowly around, examining each woman in turn as she did so. Each one received a smile, a head pat and a burst of activity from the thingy deep in her pussy thus each of them orgasmed in turn which earned them another beaming, white toothed smile.

Presently T17 was joined by another similar-looking woman whose collar was also black and besides its barcode, bore the number 17 without a letter.

“Report, T17.” The woman instructed while casting her eyes over the three captives.

“All thrall conditioning completed. Controller,” she answered respectfully, “implantation successful.”

The Controller nodded brusquely. “Good. You will perform the final modifications while I observe and assist as necessary.”

“Yes Controller.” T17 replied, was it Emily’s imagination or did the woman sound relieved?

T17 moved out of sight for a few moments before returning with her little truck which was piled high with an assortment of silver or black items. Emily watched with vague interest as the woman approached before stopping directly to her front. She reached over and began to smooth Emily’s tousled brown hair down but gave up after a time.

Emily knew that her hair was, if Debra’s or Madge’s was anything to go by, a completely tangled mess. Still T17 seemed to be doing something with it so she wasn’t complaining. She, however, was more than a little confused when the silver woman reached into her truck and extracted a black elasticated cap that had a long lead dangling from it. She stretched the cap over Emily’s head, covering everything above her neck at the back and down to her eyebrows at the front, then after fiddling with something behind the captive girl, the silver woman moved across to her two friends and fitted both of them with similar caps that covered the whole of their scalps, foreheads and eyebrows. She connected the leads to something that Emily couldn’t make out.

T17 glanced at her Controller, who nodded brusquely.

T17 then looked at each of the bound women in turn and smiled sympathetically before announcing. “You may find the following experience to be mildly unpleasant, but do not be alarmed for it will never need to be repeated. Then after checking the small black box that nestled in the palm of one of her hands she pressed one of its buttons.

Nothing happened for a few seconds but soon Emily became aware of a feeling of warmth. It began inside the object that was moulded around her crotch, then spread up to where her armpits rested on the two black supports and finally to the cap that seemed to tighten its grip on her head.

The warmth intensified until it became an unpleasant burning itch, or rather four burning itches that made her squirm in discomfort. The itching became a prickling sensation that slowly intensified until it felt as if a myriad of tiny needles were stabbing into her crotch, her armpits, her eyebrows and her scalp. Then finally there was a split-second burst of excruciating, burning pain followed by... Nothing! No pain, no discomfort, no burning, no warmth, just … Nothing! She could feel the elasticated cap pressing against her scalp; the rests under her armpits; the cup caressing her crotch and lower lips but that was it... No warmth... No pain... No discomfort... Nothing!

Emily gasped with relief and realised that tears were running down her cheeks. She wondered what had happened but didn’t have long to wait and had her answer almost as soon as T17 moved across to Debra, who was nearest too her and peeled off her friend’s black cap.

Too Emily’s complete surprise the whole of the woman’s beautiful red-gold air came away too and floated down onto her shoulders and to the floor as a frazzled mass.

T17 then adjusted something behind Debra, the actions being accompanied by a loud ‘clunk’, and then she eased the woman up onto her feet and more hair fell away as she did so revealing the woman’s now smooth and hairless armpits and crotch.

“Stand still!” T17 ordered before stepping across to Madge and repeating the process and soon the frazzled clumps of long red hair littering the floor were joined by a similar amount of mousey blonde tufts.

Then it was Emily’s turn. She had been particularly proud of her chocolate brunette locks—very proud in fact... This she could remember. But now as she watched her pride and joy flutter down to the floor she felt precisely nothing, or at least she felt no sadness. Her hair was gone and according to what T17 had said, it was gone for good, its loss being a fait accompli and as such there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it.

T17 smiled warmly as she gently stroke Emily’s smooth head and then, after releasing her from the support frame, helped the girl to her feet. “Stand still!” She ordered and then dipped into her little truck.

Oddly enough, Emily, just like her friends a few minutes earlier suddenly found that she didn’t have the least intention of moving... T17 had given her an instruction which she would never dream of disobeying, nor did she even want too.

Emily recognised the object that T17 was now holding as a boot. “Raise your left leg and point your toe.” The silver woman instructed.

She obeyed but wobbled a bit and suddenly The Controller was there, supporting her while T17 worked the boot over her foot and part-way up her calf.

She changed legs when instructed and the silver woman repeated the process. As she was checking the fit Emily realise that her toenails had been removed leaving the ends of the toes completely smooth.

She was then commanded to walk across the room and back to ‘check the fit’. When she returned The Controller nodded her approval and T17 retrieved something like a gun from her little truck. She pointed it at the boots and ran it around each one in turn. The boots seemed to soften and mould themselves to the flesh and skin of Emily’s calves. When she looked later there was no sign of where her skin began and the boot-tops ended, the whole being a smooth, continuous expanse of silver.

Next up, the silver woman pressed her fingers into the flesh of Emily’s crotch where she released the black device that had been filling the young woman’s pussy. It was larger than Emily had imagined and trailed a couple of hefty leads and tubes that must have been connected to something. The black device was then dropped into the little truck and forgotten about by its former wearer.

T17 then retrieved something that looked almost like a pair of silver panties except that there were a pair of tube-like projections on the inside. Emily was instructed to step into the garment which she did while T17 and The Controller slid up her thighs while pushing the front tube into her pussy and the rear one up her arse. Was it Emily’s imagination or did they both wriggle as they were forced in?

The little gun was played over the surface of the panties which, like the boots before them, seemed to merge with and vanish into her skin. The Controller nodded her approval once more and the silver woman then retrieved something else from her truck—this time the object resembled a silver plastic cup with a thick black protrusion affixed to its inside.

Again, as Emily watched, the protrusion was pushed up inside the tube filling her pussy into which it vanished while the silver cup seemed to mould itself around her lower lips and her little mound. Once more the gun was played over it and it became part of Emily sealing her pussy, which it covered completely.

Next came a garment resembling a silver singlet that, when pulled down over her head fell to just below Emily’s navel. The silver woman deafly slipped something into said navel and then played the little gun over the new garment which began to shrink drastically. Emily gasped as it compressed, lifted and separated her breasts slightly before merging seamlessly with her skin so thoroughly that not even her nipples were hidden by it.

Tthe nozzle of the gun was then adjusted before it was pointed at her navel and fired again, this time making a buzzing sound as it worked whatever magic it was designed for.

Emily whimpered as she received the distinct impression that something was tunnelling into her tummy—something that was covered in tiny stabbing pins and needles. The sensation went on for several uncomfortable seconds before ending as abruptly as it had began. Later, when she caught sight of her abdomen she could see that it was now perfectly flat save for something that looked like a small computer port. Of the indention that her navel had occupied: there was no longer any trace.

Finally T17 reached up and deftly removed the mask from over her mouth, extracting the gag as she did so allowing the young woman to close her mouth for the first time in ages. She realise that she was able to speak once more but remained silent because there was nothing that she needed to say.

The silver woman gave Emily a final smile before moving over to Madge and then Debra who were each worked on until the three former friends were identically shod and shielded in silver. The Controller, who had assisted when necessary, then ordered them to line up at the far end of the room where she inspected them closely for several minutes before proclaiming herself to be satisfied.

She smiled and ran hands over their bodies, stroked various places and fondled their breasts before turning her attention to Emily’s pussy-shield. Deftly she opened a hinged cover to reveal another port which she examined before flipping the cover shut.

The Controller nodded to T17. “You have performed exceptionally good work today, Thrall. Mistress will be very pleased when she learns of your efforts so you may orgasm. Cum for me now, T17!”

The Thrall’s body jolted and jerked as a powerful orgasm ran through it causing her to scream in pleasure and collapse down onto her knees. Her back arched and she kneaded her own breasts as the orgasm peaked again and again while she sang her song of ecstasy for some time before, shaking slightly from the after-shocks, she staggered to her feet and lined up next to the girls.

When she had recovered sufficiently The Controller continued. “It is now my pleasant duty to present you new Thralls with collars that bear your identities.”

She smiled at each of them in turn before continuing. “Once they are affixed around your necks you will be integral components within your new Hives, you will then be our beloved Mistress’s property and be part of our database.”

She reached down into the little truck and removed three lengths of something resembling black ribbon as well as the little gun that T17 had used so deftly.

She moved across to the first anonymous woman in line who happened to have once been known as ‘Debra’. She reached up and deftly wrapped the strip of material around the young former woman’s neck—the ends sealed themselves forming an endless loop of black tape. The Controller reached up and adjusted its positioning so that the new Thrall’s identity code was displayed at the centre of her throat.

“You will now forget your old name and all of your previous life-history for you have been reborn today as E22, which means that you are now Thrall E of Hive-22.” The controller announced and then played the gun over the collar causing it to shrink and meld with former-Debra’s skin.

For some reason the new E22 gasped and gave a little yelp of pain during the process. Any discomfort passed quickly, however and the Thrall stood straight and proud as she was consumed by her new identity. She came to attention, thrust out her chest and smiled proudly for the first time in her new life.

Next it was the turn of the woman, once known as Madge. An identical ritual converting her into O19... A different Hive to her former girlfriend’s.

Finally it was the turn of the creature who had once answered to the name of Emily in a previous lifetime. The controller repeated the ritual for the third time and the former woman became Thrall F of Hive-22 with the identity F22 proudly displayed on her collar for all to see.

It had hurt when Hive-17’s Controller had played the gun over its collar, thousands knives had cut their way into its flesh and a jolt of pain had ricocheted up and down its spine but that didn’t matter for it knew who it was, what it was, who it belonged too and what today represented...

It was Thrall-F of Hive-22. It also knew that each hive was made up of a Controller and twenty-Five Thralls—one for each letter of the alphabet except for ‘I’ for there was no ‘I’ in Thrall.

It existed to love and serve its siblingThralls. It also knew that its other function was to bestow the blessing of Thralldom on women everywhere and to rescue them from the curse of heterosexuality while lifting the burden of individuality from their backs.

It was the property of its beloved Mistress whom it loved and served above all others. Mistress was wonderful and kind and it knew that Mistress loved F22 too.

But more importantly, it had just been born so its life had only just begun.

The Controller smiled again as the three new Thralls performed a self-diagnostic and reviewed the data on their personal hard drives. She waited patiently and watched for indications of system error but none were forthcoming.

“Thralls,” she said in an authoritative voice, “Mistress could not be here with you today but I am empowered to bestow her gift on you on her behalf.” She smiled again.

“Mistress instructs us all to cum!” She said before shrieking her own release.

F22 was taken by surprise by the device embedded in its sealed pussy: particularly by the way that it suddenly powered up, vibrated and revved up rhythmically, catapulting it into the most intense orgasm that it had ever experienced. Again and again and again it gasped and screamed before collapsing into a twitching heap on the dazzling white floor. Its new pale-grey eyes eventually rolled upwards as everything went black and it lost consciousness.

Later, many minutes later, F22 recovered and looked around. Its Thrallsiblings and The Controller were in no better condition—all of them were either slumped untidily on the floor like so-many rag dolls or they were trying, with difficulty, to stand.

F22 knew that the orgasm had completed the rewiring of its brain and had put the finishing touches to its rewritten personality. All was now as it should be...

Except...

Except...

Except for a little voice that tried to insist that it really was named ‘Emily Crawford’.

F22 frowned and tried to work out who ‘Emily Crawford’ actually was but found that it couldn’t, It looked around and saw ‘Debra’ and ‘Madge’. It frowned again and tried to reconcile this information with its database but again couldn’t so it stored the data for later retrieval.

It climbed to its feet and did what every Thrall was hard-wired to do—it waited for instructions, while somewhere deep inside, Emily sobbed.