The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jax was greatly looking forward to that night. He’d been making preparations for a few days, with Julie’s help; he thought Julie had enjoyed the preparation more than he had. He’d given her paper, and told her to cut into cards; she’d made probably at least 30 or 50, cut them perfectly uniform. There had been paper to be found in the house but no cue cards— and Jax could have bought cue cards for her, but he’d thought (and judging by the way Julie had responded, he’d been right) that Julie would enjoy the opportunity to obey, even if it was obeying something that was pure tedium, more than she’d like to be given something that would make things easier for her.

She’d seemed to relish having to cut each card out individually— the fact that the task had taken so long and had been so boring seemed to have made Julie enjoy it more. She’d seemed to be thinking that the pleasure of knowing she was doing something that would have otherwise driven her out of mind with its monotony for Jax’s sake, to make him happy, was as delicious as serving Jax in every other way. Submission itself was the sex for her now, and she’d been getting it in waves by cutting the cards out.

Jax hadn’t had anything better to do— he’d sat there, in the armchair by the table Julie had seated herself at to do it. He’d crossed his ankles, rested his cheek against his hand, and watched— if submission had become the sex for Julie, Jax was feeling in that moment that dominating was becoming the sex for him. To see that dopey look of submissive joy on Julie’s face, and watch her giving herself back to the drudgery of the task, over and over, with every card, had touched him.

It had simmered in his lower body until his cock had been jutting out and standing tall. He’d enjoyed just watching her… knowing that he’d made her enjoy, and she was enjoying because his control over her mind was permanent… she had looked pretty, too, glowing with submission, the way Jax thought all his slaves did. That had been another thing for him to enjoy, too; and there had been something contemplative in watching and enjoying but releasing nothing. Just letting the arousal throb in his dick, but not spill it out and relieve it… it had been a deeply satisfying experience in its own way.

Then finally Julie had finished cutting the cards out, and Jax had told her what to write on them. He’d dictated the card contents to her one at a time; he’d had her double or triple or quadruple cards, every single one, but varied the quantity for each one and told her so.

The contents of the cards had been overtly erotic; if both he and Julie had been simmering in an understated eroticism when she had simply been cutting cards, it had risen to a full boil as he’d described sexual act after sexual act. Julie had quickly started squirming in her seat as she wrote what was dictated— but she had controlled her own impulse. For him. That had been even hotter.

When she’d finally finished, the two of them had been so worked up Jax had spent the next few hours fucking Julie slowly right there on the floor of the woman to work the tension out after all that elaborate, long foreplay.

Now everyone was arriving, and Jax was glad the preparation was done— and that it had been fun. Julie, Robin, Sarah, Gina and Alice— they’d all arrived, they were all his in his living room, and they all stood at attention when they’d finished coming into the room.

“We’re going to play the Random Game,” Jax told them, when they were ready. “I had Julie cut and right out cards for me. They’ve all been placed in this hat.”

Julie picked it up to show it off— a task like that was beneath Jax doing it himself.

“You’ll all take turns drawing from the hat. There are multiple copies of each card in there. When you draw a card, you will first read the card, and then you will act out whatever is written on the card. But to help you all be a little more responsive to instruction—”

Just saying that made him harden— and made all his girls shiver too—

Jax had his phone out, in his hand, the app activated; catching only one girl, but each other girl froze in sympathy with the one who was being struck in the chest— and Jax was glad that he knew changing one, if he phrased the change just right, would change them all— and he was even harder seeing the girls frozen by his beam; and they all seemed to be dripping down their legs under their short skirts, turned on to be under his direct influence again.

“Each of your entire bodies, the integrity of your entire being, is malleable as long as we’re playing this game. You only have to hear the instruction read out loud and it will shift you into being what the card tells you— even if it changes your nature, or your body, or anything else about you. You are wet clay to be molded by the card’s instructions, and you will mold perfectly. You are completely porous to what it tells you to be, and its essence will seep into you and rewrite your own. You don’t want to stop it. You can’t stop it.”

Each girl shuddered as what Jax had said became true; he loved that he had altered reality again into being capable of something it should have been incapable of. Loved the power he had over each of them— loved the power over he had reality itself.

“But when each of your orders are completed, you’ll revert back to your usual selves, and keep your memories of what happened to you.”

They shuddered with the addition of this suggestion; they had taken it in, too, he had reasserted his power over them once again— and they stood there, lovely and blank, having understood what he expected them to.

They stood there and he let them— he wanted to enjoy their blankness for just a moment more—

He walked among them like wandering particularly beloved halls, considering each one from multiple sides; each body stiff and rigid, each eye widened, each pupil sent wide— each shapely mouth parted, some tongues peeking out, some drool tracing mouth corners— he held each one of them entirely, and he was going to enjoy that so much tonight.

But he could only hold them like this for one more moment— he’d stolen enough time. The point of all this was to get on with things so they could all play; he could have them stand out a tableau

He’d done what he’d planned to do, and they could begin playing, but they all looked so lovely and frozen... he wanted to just let them stand there, reflecting off of the beam, basking in his power for just a moment more... to see their arousal puddling under them... to see each one of them full of that submissive joy, taking it for sex— knowing he had done that to them, and that their condition could not be reversed— because he’d done it— this was his accomplishment— he thought it again and then got harder.

But Jax had stood and looked at them long enough; he shut his device off, and slipped his phone, with its closed app, back into his pocket, and all the girls around him woke up.

“We’ll get started playing in a minute, but let’s all sit down first.”

Jax had had Julie set the living room up, too; his lush gray armchair had been pulled out into the center of the room, and then Julie had brought in five chairs from the kitchen, all wooden, and much less comfortable than Jax’s— Julie had put the chairs in a circle around with each other, spread out enough that there was a substantial amount of space in the center of the circle for people to stand or to do whatever was necessary to be done in the course of playing the game.

They all waited for Jax to seat himself in his well-cushioned, comfortable armchair first; standing at attention and watching him sit down. He settled in, and sighed in relief; he had the best seat, it was sure, and it felt so soft and plush against his body he let himself drive backwards a bit into the cushioning, to increase the feeling of comfort.

“Now you can all sit wherever you like,” he invited, letting his arms come to drape along the armrests and feeling a lot like a king surveying a court.

He should have expected what came next; all five girls came to stand around his chair. Of course they would come to him first. They flocked naturally to them, he was their center of gravity, and they all always wanted to be as close to him as they could physically make themselves— still, somehow, he’d thought his casual, lenient instruction would have directed them to seat themselves with no other delaying.

If he had made them nothing but robots, and erased all hints of personality and individuality from out of them, they might have just sat down.

But even though it looked like the five of them were getting ready to fight with each other, Jax had no regrets— there was no part of him, not even a small one, which wished that he had.

He was glad he had left them each with some autonomy; it was almost more fun to see them thinking for themselves, in service of him— living out the identities he had given each one. He knew he’d made his choice rightly.

But the anger that was percolating had broken out completely— and annoyed stares passing from one slave to another weren’t enough anymore. One of them was speaking up.

“Well, obviously I should get to sit down in his lap,” Alice said. Her voice was sharp— anticipating attack, anticipating retaliation, and prepared to take on all comers. “I’ve been his slave the least amount of time; you’ve all had a chance to enjoy being close to him; it’s my turn now,” she finished, petulantly.

“You’ve barely been a slave longer than I have,” Gina protested, staring back at Alice with complete incredulity— from the expression on her face, it looked like she could think of nothing more unfair than Alice’s argument.

“Or me,” Sarah whined, taking over the end of Gina’s sentence in part. “Just because he took you as his slave a few minutes after the both of us doesn’t mean we’ve been his slaves so much longer than you have. We haven’t hardly had any time to enjoy being close to him, either; the extra fifteen or twenty minute difference between us and you, or whatever it was— it didn’t give us so much more time than you had to be with him.”

“Leave me out of this,” Gina, snapped at her girlfriend. She swung her head back to spit the words at her once she’d turned her head facing her— but her body was still facing towards Alice. She was caught in two conversations at once. “I don’t need you advocating for me or speaking on my behalf!”

Sarah obviously bristled at this, but didn’t have a chance to respond because Robin was already speaking over her; completely at ease in doing it, looking complete guilt-free at doing it.

“The three of you are thinking about it all wrong. You’re being selfish. The question should be, who will Jax enjoy having on his lap the most? And with my ass—“ Robin let her hand trace over the swell of her rump, shifting it back further against her hand to make her point. And Jax felt his hardness tighten. “I think it’s clear that would be me.” She shimmied her ass again— she knew what she had, and she was confident in it— and obviously, completely happy about herself. It defined her identity for her, clearly, and she was happy with it doing that.

“I’ve been his the longest!” Julie called out, in a near-shout. “He chose me first, he wanted me first. He likes having me close to him, since he’s used to me. For his comfort level alone, I should be the one in his lap.” When she’d referenced herself in speech, she also indicated herself by putting a hand on her chest and straightening slightly in her stance.

Jax looked around at the five of them, as they were all arguing over him. It pleased him to be fought over this way, but there was true hostility in the way each one of them was standing; as if the five of them were just shy of physically combatting each other with punches and blows and scrapes and scratches. That had surprised him, but he liked the barely restrained violence that he was seeing— he wondered if he should actually let them go so far as fighting. Appealing thought.

“We shouldn’t even be arguing over this,” Sarah said. “It should be Jax’s decision— every decision is his decision, he’s so smart and he always chooses the right thing.” Sarah beamed as she said it, romanticizing him in her description, seeing him with a slave’s devotion as they all did.

Then all five turned expectantly to look at him, a little of the hostility in each body easing up; it was a ceasefire, he could restore peace— though he understood that he would be marking whoever he chose with a target on their back. After that fight that they’d all just had, whoever Jax chose would be marked as his favorite, in her own eyes and the eyes of everyone else, and she would be resented for it.

If he was choosing on the basis of this criteria, he should choose not only someone he would enjoy having seated on him, but someone who had a thick enough skin that they could take the resentment of all the other girls.

That made it an obvious choice.

“Robin,” Jax said, simply; and the girl in question preened up to her full height— and everyone else glowered.

Being enslaved had improved Robin’s mood, but she’d been something of a bitch before, and when it came time for conflict, those old tendencies seemed to emerge again; but Jax knew that Robin wouldn’t be bothered remotely by the hostility of the other girls. Alice would have been a close second, but she was a little less resolute than Robin; someone like Sarah or Gina wouldn’t have been able to stand it at all.

Robin didn’t need to be told twice; as soon as the idea had sunk in, Robin crossed the centre of the circle, and lowered herself, in a show-off excess, down into Jax’s lap.

Her ass was plump and cushiony on Jax’s legs, and she squirmed and tilted her ass a few times to settle herself into place, ostensibly, but really just to assert her victory, Jax thought.

“Now the rest of you can sit down,” Jax invited again.

“I get to sit on Jax’s left,” Alice snapped.

“Well I get to sit on Jax’s right,” Julie snapped.

“Neither of you should get to sit on his left or right, we’re the slaves that were enslaved in the middle, we’ve gotten the least attention, we’ve been overlooked.”

“I told you to stop speaking for me!” Gina snapped. “But we should be on left and right,” she amended, seeing it might strategically get her what she wanted.

“So you can speak for me, but I can’t speak for you?” Sarah snapped back, testier now.

“Neither of you know how to appreciate sitting beside him. I’ve been his the longest, I know how to properly value him and appreciate when I get to be close to him. Sitting next to him will be wasted on all of you—”

Alice sat herself down in the chair to Jax’s left, stealing it before further debate. Julie then did the same.

Once they were all seated; though Sarah and Gina had gone down grudgingly, the game could truly begin.

It was not in anyway decided, or agreed upon, by the entire circle; nor had Jax bidden it himself, but without asking, Alice took the initiative herself. She stood from her chair, walked across the circle to stand in front of Julie’s chair, and reached into the hat that was balanced on Julie’s lap.

She withdrew a scrap of paper, and her eyes scanned it as her lips followed after. “Give Jax a blowjob to completion, then kiss his semen into someone else’s mouth.”

Alice flushed obviously with arousal; she crumpled the paper with one hand and dropped it to the ground.

Robin shifted off of Jax’s lap, to sit on the arm of his armchair. She put her arm around his shoulder, and leaned down on him from her position perched slightly above him.

Alice moved to kneel on the floor in front of Jax.

“It’s not fair that Alice gets to go first,” Julie whined.

“Should have acted faster than me, yourself then,” Alice said. She was eyeing Jax’s cock through his pants interestedly.

“It sucks that Alice went first, but we should all shut up and let her do it so her turn’s over faster,” Sarah commented, leaning forward in her chair, also looking with interest from across the circle— sitting on the edge of her chair to do it.

Gina just looked in a bad mood.

Alice shut up, and said nothing more. She moved her head forward, and lifted her hands; she undid his pants quickly, and Robin was looking down from where she was sitting above; had the perfect vantage point to look down and see as Alice got Jack’s penis free of his pants and exposed to open air.

Then Alice tilted her head in, and wrapped Jax quickly in her lips.

They were soft, and wet— she’d licked them first; and he felt her tongue swirl over him. He leaned back further into the chair and tilted his hips out to send his dick deeper into her mouth. Alice accepted him, and sucked him harder with her lips; then she was working her head along his length, and Robin was staring down with wide eyes as if mesmerized by the sight.

It felt good to finally have some direct sexual contact again; he’d been turned on thinking of this happening in the time it had taken to prepare; and getting to fuck that out with Julie had helped; but since everyone had come over tonight, he’d been getting increasingly and increasingly bothered… so to finally have someone working him in their mouth was a relieving feeling; it loosed hot pleasure in him, and he was rocking in place where he sat, shaking the armchair, and shaking Robin sitting on it, with the motion.

Alice licked and sucked with greater investment, greater excitement; it was nice to have someone so invested in making him feel good. She sucked once more, and he spilled in her mouth.

Alice stood, with a full load of Jax hidden back behind her lips. She stood there, turned outwards from Jax’s chair, looking over everyone else in the circle; choosing.

“Give it to me,” Robin said; taking the spirit of the game— Alice had taken the initiative and now it seemed Robin would too.

There was a chorus of complaints from around the circle; but no one else had taken the initiative— no one else had taken the spirit of the game as well as Alice and Robin so far had.

Alice seemed to appreciate her same impulse to initiate in Robin, and apparently decided to reward it.

She turned back around, and leaned over Jax; she joined her lips to Robin’s, and they kissed shallowly for a moment; Jax was secretly glad it had worked out this way; he could imagine how Robin must have enjoyed being close to Jax and Alice as Alice had been getting him off; from sitting down in his seat, looking up at Robin, he could see every detail of the kiss happening just over his shoulder; Alice was leaning over him, Robin was leaning in; and Alice’s hands had tenderly found Robin’s face, cradling it on either side— and despite her natural feistiness, Robin allowed herself to be cradled; despite her natural boldness, which might have lent itself to bossing others around; she was submitting to Alice’s lead, letting Alice direct the kiss.

As for Alice, she didn’t have any choice; she had to direct the kiss, she had to kiss Robin with her very best skill because the card was forcing her to.

They kissed shallowly for a moment; then, once they had found their natural rhythm, Alice opened her jaw, and widened her lips against Robin; and Robin dropped her jaw to open her mouth wider to be able to receive.

Then, Jax watched, riveted to his fascination, as Alice’s cheeks bulged slightly with his emission. She’d kept it to the back of her mouth, while she’d been getting settled in with kissing Robin, but now she was bringing it forward from where it had been hidden, and Jax could see it bulging her face out; then another ripple, that Jax thought must be her tongue, and she was feeding it to Robin with one lick at a time.

There was a shift from Robin, too, licking in, tongue to tongue, from the tongue that was carrying it to her curved; receiving Jax’s spending, and Alice kept patiently sending it to her; in no rush; no great passion inflaming and carrying along; just small mouthfuls of Jax’s stuff at a time, and there had been so much to start with; it wouldn’t be over in any hurry.

Robin’s mouth shifted again; she accepted a mouthful on the back of Alice’s tongue, then she swallowed it down, and Jax watched as her throat bobbed; then Alice fed more to her; she swallowed this too; one kiss at a time; one kiss at a time; Jax was so glad he’d had the idea for the game; he hadn’t felt so entertained in a long time.

Finally Robin had swallowed it all down; and Alice went back to her chair. She took the hat from Julie— again in the spirit of the game. She’d been the last one to have a turn, she’d hold it.

It was Sarah’s turn to draw from the hat next; not because it should naturally have fallen to her, but because it seemed that she couldn’t stand watching other people continue getting their turns before her; clearly, she wasn’t going to wait any longer. She didn’t say anything, didn’t wait to listen to the others around her argue. She took the initiative into her own hands, stood, and walked to Alice’s chair, then drew a strip of paper from the hat on Alice’s lap.

She unrolled it and flattened it with the pass of thumb and forefinger. “You’re a stripper with all of a stripper’s knowledge from experience. Use it to do a dance for Jax.”

Jax found it almost as arousing as anything else to watch the girls reading out the papers they drew from the hat; the change that came over them was immediate. Even now there was a distant look in Sarah’s eyes; all that knowledge which the suggestion had made reference to was being downloaded into her brain. Sarah was a stripper, she had always been a stripper; sweet Sarah, less brash or bold than Alice or Robin. He was glad she had drawn that one.

“She’s totally changing!” Julie exclaimed in surprise. She knew the premise of the game; she’d been there for Jax to dictate to, but it still seemed like a surprise to her.

“She’s even standing different,” Robin commented, less surprised and more intrigue.

Gina’s brow was furrowed— maybe she was wondering if she could even recognize her girlfriend like this; of course he relationship to Sarah was still supposed to be second to their relationship to Jax, both her and Sarah’s; her devotion had seemed to slip through her fingers…

Jax snapped his. “Gina,” he said. “You’re happy that your girlfriend is a stripper.”

Gina’s eyes glazed; Jax felt himself almost ready to perk back up to attention; then when they refocused, Gina only smiled at her girlfriend happily. He had resolved the issue for her and brought her up to the standard he expected of her.

Sarah seemed to totally understand her memories now; and the distant look slipped from her; she was fully aware of where she was, aware of the fact that she was standing in front of Jax; that she now had to dance for him; she looked thrilled to have the privilege.

There was no music playing; maybe that would have made it easier for her, but Sarah didn’t seem to balk even for a second. Even without music at all, she seemed to find some kind of rhythm in herself, and she began swaying her body from one side to another; she was starting slowly, languidly, but there was clear syncopation in her movements, such that Jax could easily imagine the tempo she was following, and even almost here it in his head; she blocked it out so well with her body.

She stayed about centered in the circle at first; then she took several confident strides forwards to be closer to Jax’s chair, more fully filling his field of view; when she was there, she turned to the side, and dropped herself to a squat still feeling that elusive imaginary beat; and then brought herself back up to standing; she turned to the other side and squatted again; then rose back to stand; turned to face Jax head on, and reached forwards for her toes, to stroke her hands over her own legs, forcing her cleavage to jut out, large and swarming Jax’s vision; then she brought herself back up to standing, her arms out in a T until she raised them, then entwined one with the other, stroking down the first with that hand.

These movements had all made many micro-tableaus, each one more attractive to look on than the last; now as Sarah kept entwining arm with arm, keeping her breasts raised and forward, she slowly undulated as she sank down towards a squat again, still facing forward towards Jax, but twisting her body as she kept everything else she was doing maintained; it was a complex set of motions, but she kept them synchronized perfectly, and Jax felt he couldn’t look away from her; while she danced, she commanded such presence that he forgot the other slaves in the room with him, forgot everything that wasn’t the dance going in front of him.

Sarah got down to her squat, then rose up the same way she’d come, slowly; twisting; the muscles in her legs toned now as if she did this all the time. As if she really was a stripper— Jax blessed his invention again, and enjoyed the sight of her going up.

She was increasing the speed of her motion now; spinning, twirling; leaning; she came to stand in profile again and threw her neck back, moving her whole body with it; her hair arced through empty space, her breasts came up and her ass pulled in, then jutted back out when she threw her head forward in a near head bang, and her hair arced back the other way.

She started shimmying as she moved beneath her little top; her hands found the hem of that shirt, but just gripped; she pulled it out from her body, and started moving with the hold; sending one hand forward with the total motion of her body to make her shirt come out that way; then the other hand, to send the fabric that direction instead; then shifting each one back and forth, like trying to slowly pull the shirt away from her body, but not pulling it up or off.

No, she was starting to do that now, Jax hadn’t paid enough attention; now when she sent one hand out, she sent it higher. Then she sent the other hand up slightly than higher. So she was going back, forth, doing it by intervals; one hand higher, then the other, slowly working it outwards and up off her body; she was moving her hands fluidly enough it was like there was no pause in working on one side or another; as if she was growing increasingly frustrated by the clothing; she got it up halfway; then up to her neck; over her head, and she threw it to Jax.

It was quick for her to get her skirt off with a shimmying down; then her underwear too; she had stripped enjoyably.

Jax, feeling very satisfied, looked over Sarah; she had completed the impulse implanted interiorly in her mind, and he could see the history and persona she’d assumed disappearing— a handy trick of his invention, too; it had only been a temporary change, and now she was reverting— had reverted— she went and sat back down in her chair; her cheeks flushed. She clearly remembered what had happened; remembered how it had felt to be that other person. But she was just Sarah again; sitting in her chair.

Jax watched, with a waiting cat’s patience, as Gina stood; she had been the only not to do anything yet; she was slightly less sure as she walked over. Jax debated the idea of snapping again— he held his fingers poised to do it. But she’d be reading her on suggestion, soon, and it would be changing her— he could leave it to that to fix her hesitant attitude.

She reached Sarah; who had accepted the hat from Alice, and was now holding it on her lap.

She reached in and fetched out her suggestion of paper. She wasn’t the kind to smooth out paper— she just gripped by thumb pressing to underside of below fingertip— she held it up in front of her face, and opened her mouth to read.

“Assume power, and give a command to a fellow slave,” Gina asked; Jax sat up straight in his chair, towards the edge of the seat of it. If it was between Gina and Sarah, Gina was the one who was less dominant— out of every one of his slaves, she was probably the least dominant— less even than Julie, who had a bit of a bratty streak sometimes, especially if she was being competitive. The most interesting possible slave had chosen this suggestion— and reading it was already changing her.

The air of power was descending on her.

“She’s standing with her shoulders taller!” Robin exclaimed— clearly, she saw Gina as the least dominant, too. And now she was finding it shocking to see her stand up taller with import; to exude competence, and control.

“She’s completely different than the girl she was just a second ago, it’s crazy—“ Alice said, more like she was talking to herself than to anyone else present.

“That’s a strut if I ever saw one,” Julie grumbled— sounding almost jealous. She might have craved that power she saw on Gina herself— but tough for her. It was Gina’s, and she was now completely in possession of it, holding it with an iron grip.

To Jax’s surprise, she had not walked toward anyone slave— she had walked back to her chair— and the way she sank down to sit it on it radiated high self-concept. It was only a plain-looking chair, brought in from the kitchen— but when she sat on it, she made it a throne, and she sprawled over it so luxuriously she nearly rivaled Jax in the quiet power of her sitting.

She surveyed the other slaves like they were her spoils; each one met her gaze squarely, except Sarah. She had been suspiciously silent when the others had spoken; she had looked away— she knew, deep down, that she was going to be chosen, and she didn’t want to— she was frightened, she couldn’t meet Gina’s gaze but she must have felt it burning on her face— and Gina had made her decision.

“Come to me, Sarah,” she said, speaking in that same, relaxed, sprawled out way. All things she wanted would come to her— she was power itself, and it dripped off her.

Sarah jerked— the reading of Gina’s suggestion had had a transitive property— it had been latent in each slave’s mind, and now that Sarah knew she was the one who’d officially, her mind had unlocked. She was Gina’s slave now and she had to obey.

Sarah rose slowly, and walked the steps to stand to the side of Gina’s chair; then once she was there, she got down, a little uncertainly, to sitting on the floor, tucking her legs curved under to sit over, and hunching in on herself, submissively.

Gina was looking at her like Sarah was something that she would like to eat.

“I’m ready to love you,” Sarah said, quietly, a little uncomfortable with the saying, it seemed. Her voice was low and small. “I’m ready to give myself.”

Gina spread her legs even further apart; she let her hand come to her skirt, and ruck it up with a well-practiced swish; she peeled her underwear off, so her cunt was completely exposed; then she set the index two finger of her right hand over her opening, split them into an upside down V, or a standing triangle and held herself open and exposed.

Sarah swallowed.

“Love me physically then,” Gina said. “Come here and lick.”

As soon as it was said, Sarah had to crawl forward on hands and knees; she set her mouth in Gina’s nectar and started licking— Gina threw her head back.

The suggestion would hold sway until Gina orgasmed, Jax was sure— it was very arousing to watch, Gina holding herself open so Sarah could fully tongue her; then Gina giving herself over to the ecstasy of it— but even with her head thrown back, Gina was still speaking.

“Julie,” she said— and this was improvising now. Jax loved that. “Come over here, strip Sarah from the waist, and stuff her with your fingers.”

Julie might have objected— but Jax knew how submissive he had made her, and she seemed unable to resist giving into control, no matter who was wielding it.

Besides, Jax had given Gina this power. It was really derivative of him— so he was rolled up in it, even if he was only a spectator now.

Julie came closer and did as instructed; she got Sarah stripped, and Gina seemed to feel the moment it happened. She lifted one leg, and put sole of her foot to the front of one as Sarah’s shoulders, and pushed her back with it.

“Cant your hips back,” she said. “Show us all what a slut you are for it.”

Sarah did this; and she was weeping from her own opening— Julie’s own fingers, all four of them clasping to her thumb, easily went in, and a few more licks to Gina made her come— and the magic was ended completely, entirely.

It drained off of Gina as quickly as it had come on— drained off all of them. They were only themselves again, hostage to no power. Sarah wiped her slippery mouth on the back of her hand.

She got back to her chair; passed the hat to Gina to hold in her lap; Julie had since gotten back to her chair; and now Robin decided she wanted to stand and have her pull. She got up, she went over, she withdrew a paper a bit carelessly, held it in the palm of her hand, and read out: “Your pussy tastes like cherry pie.”

Sarah crumpled the paper in her hand and let it fall to the floor; so it had happened for the other suggestions that had been withdrawn from the hat. She shuddered and Jax knew it had already happened— and he didn’t need to command anyone to go to her; Alice was already curious; she got down on to her knees, too, right in front of where Sarah was already standing, and she made a long, lascivious lick with her elegant tongue, from the dip of Robin’s opening all the way up to her clit.

Her tongue looked longer than it was— and Jax longed to have it entwined around his cock again— fond memories of the blowjob she’d given him earlier were rapidly bringing his recovery period to an end.

Alice smacked her lips together, shifting her tongue around within her mouth.

“It really does like cherry pie!” She announced to the others. “I didn’t think that would really work— I didn’t think anything could end up being that close it. It literally tastes like the flavor is coming from a piece of pie that’s been cut out of a pie fresh from the oven. Warm… sweet… it tastes… red and spilling… with just that bit of tartness.”

Alice looked to the other slaves, eyes moving from one to the next. “You should all get a taste of this.”

They made a line, then the line became a circle standing around Robin, who was still standing too. They’d all crowded around Jax in exactly that way before. But now they were surrounding Robin like she really was a pie, crowding a dessert they all wanted a piece of; impatient to get their taste, each one.

Alice stepped aside; Julie was the next to get down and lick— she was less crude about it; her lick was more restrained, but she still seemed to be curling out every nuance of taste she could get by rolling her tongue up as she brought it along. Julie stood, pulling her tongue back behind her lips— then she was sucking her own tongue.

“Exactly like it,” she agreed, and clapped Alice on the shoulder, who didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re right, Alice. If I’d been craving a slice of cherry pie, I’d be satisfied after this.”

Sarah shoved Julie a little to get her out of the way— she was impatient, she was desperate, apparently, and then she was twisting tongue through Robin’s slit, it curling and flicking briefly back over itself; then already standing up, Sarah swallowed instead of mouth washing it around her mouth.

Robin was a font they could all drink from; she had taken the three licks well so far, but she was starting to looking a bit worked up.

Gina was the last one to get down, with more deliberation, and then she licked most slowly, as if letting her tastebuds to absorb by giving them prolonged exposure.

She waited until she’d worked down the taste, and nodded in agreement with what everyone had said.

Robin frowned. “I want to know too,” she whined, in part.

She dipped her fingers down, tracing her slit and making herself shiver— then she plunged her fingers inside herself, then withdrew them, dripping and glistening with the moisture she’d pulled out on them; she drew them to her mouth, and plunged them in there, too, wrapping her lips beautifully around them, sucking everything on her fingers off into her mouth.

“Oh!” She let out; her voice muffled by a full mouth; her arm still pumping and feeding her hand back into it.

“It’s totally cherry pie!”

That was a consensus, then. But Jax knew he wanted to taste it for himself.

“Sit back up where you were before, Robin; then someone come stand and support her so she can lean back.”

There was a scramble as this was arranged according to Jax’s ask.

Robin got herself back up on her perch— then she extended her body backwards in almost a throw, falling into Gina’s arms, and hanging down, a slight dip into empty air— it threw her hips up, and the aroma that wafted to Jax’s nostrils was complete cherry pie. There was enough warmth coming out of Robin’s body that for a minute Jax felt he was standing in a hot kitchen, smelling a fresh baked pie wafting its scent in from on the kitchen windowsill.

Because of the way that Jax had made Robin position herself on the arm of his chair, Jax only had to shift his body back a small amount, and dip his head low— and then Robin was right there waiting for him.

He tasted her— and it was cherry pie— he’d listen to every other slave agree on the same thing to the point of being redundant, but there was something special about tasting it for himself. He was licking and getting more of it onto his tongue, more of it into his body. He wanted to sip and drink this flow from her; if he knew the device could be used like this, he would never need to eat a fruit pie again, not if he could get it from this source, hot and wet, and willing, writhing and wiggling under his face as he kissed and nipped and licked— Robin was moaning and shaking, must have been shaking in Gina’s arms; she thrust onto Jax’s tongue, and erupted out more of that cherry pie filling; still she had a smugness above herself; as if she was absolutely confident she had tasted the way said, that it made her so delicious everyone would want to taste.

Jax brought her to orgasm without much effort— the others had worked her up— and she was even more susceptible to him, since he commanded her.

When he pulled back from her, and gave her a tip on the hip. One last shiver in Robin; Jax sniffed once more, experimentally, and Robin’s scent was the one he typically associated with her— it was only girlmusk he was sniffing now, and no trace of cherry pie. Robin’s specific brand of it, but still just regularly scented essence.

Gina had helped Robin sit herself back up after holding her suspended in the air; Robin was looking a little woozy in the head, like it all the blood had rushed up to her head and she was dizzy now that she was sitting up.

She was pressing a hand to her forehead, but still looking at Jax.

Jax smiled at her. “Cherry is my favorite. Thank you for reading that card.”

Robin seemed to melt in place. Jax liked what his praise did to each of them.

“But help me out, Robin— all this playing worked me up again. Get on my dick— ride it out.”

It was fun, particularly, to speak this way to Robin because of her inherent brashness. It just went away when he was talking to her— he loved to see that happen.

Robin nodded as primly as Sarah had to Gina’s command; he liked to see her reduced to such an abject slave— she slid off her perch on the arm of his chair again, and got herself astride him. She undid his pants again, and he sprung free. He’d been winding up tighter and tighter, getting hard and harder, and he let out a grunt when Robin settled herself down on his length. He stabbed upwards into her— and everyone had to watch her, watch her be the lucky one, for now, who got to be this close to him, to be sexual with him in this way.

Robin rode him, doing exactly as he’d said. She was obeying willingly, this time, not because something had opened in her mind and forced her to, as had happened to some of the other girls. She wanted to do what he said because she wanted to make him happy.

She had powerful muscles in her lower body, too; and she was using them, squeezing and pumping him inwards with clenches and drags; she held him by the collar of her shirt and used it to leverage herself, to make it easier to rock.

It must have given Robin the idea— putting herself back into Gina’s hands— because when she rocked herself in, she rocked herself back out again, arching her back out and throwing her neck back too, continuing that move— for each moment she rocked herself back she was briefly suspending herself in mid-air, extending just a bit too far back so it seemed that she might lose her balance; her hands found Jax’s forearms and gripped to pull herself back— the angle was perfect— it made Jax come. When he was done, Robin climbed off.

Jax smiled. “Let’s get ready for round two.”