Commisioned work - Subordination

Hey folks! Exciting (possibly mostly for me) news! I recently completed my first commission. This particular story is a mind control / hypnosis themed erotic short story. One thing to keep in mind is that while I usually write very explicit consent into my works, this one was requested as non-consensual mind-control. So CW: non-consensual brainwashing / mind control. If non-con in erotica isn't something you're okay with reading then please give this one a skip. 

If you're interested in commissioning a work from me, feel free to email me at sapphicsounds@gmail.com

Chapter 1

Sunlight reflected off the shining frames of her shades, and gently settled upon Andrea’s skin wherever her lounge-chair’s umbrella failed to cast its shadow. The cool sweat of a freshly blended margarita dripped onto her knuckles as she lazily sipped at the tart, refreshing drink. There had been a strange, salty, heady taste in her mouth, but that took care of the issue perfectly. Beside her one of her pets—Alayna? Or was it Corrine? One of the redheads. Andrea had a hard time keeping track of their names—clad in nothing but a bra and short shorts, slowly, rhythmically waving a palm-frond over her Mistress; the docile, empty smile plastered on her face matched her vacant eyes. Resting atop her, with her head gently placed against Andrea’s breast, was far and away the Mistress’ absolute favorite of all her pets, Rose. Smiling affectionately, Andrea brushed her fingers through Rose’s adorable little pixie-cut, eliciting a soft coo. Andrea giggled, and in response, the treasured pet nuzzled against her Mistress languidly. Getting to spend every morning like this—in the warm sunlight, tended to by beautiful women and cuddling with her most precious possession—was, to Andrea, simply paradise.

What wasn’t paradise, was the scoff she heard across her, snapping her from her moment of revelry and causing her to glare down her nose at the woman seated across her. While Andrea was happy using her gift to maximize her personal pleasure, her ‘peer’ Laureen Wilcox seemed intent on dominating others simply for the sake of a never ending power grab.

It sounded absolutely nightmarish. The woman had caught heavens knew how many within her web, and for what? A two percent revenue increase this quarter compared to the last one? It sounded dreadfully stressful all for a few extra hundred million compared to Andrea’s own seemingly boundless wealth. Regardless, until Andrea addressed the problem of her presence, the insufferable woman would be going nowhere. For good measure though, just to make the snooty little bitch stew in her doubtlessly seething anger, Andrea took a long, relishing sip of her drink, taking care to conspicuously groan and shudder in pleasure. She pulled the glass from her lips, swirled the margarita around in her hands for a moment, watching the liquid lazily, then finally, cast her eyes on Laureen. “Is there a particular reason you’re here?” She asked, hoping it was possible to make the disinterest and disdain in her voice take physical shape.

Across from her, Laureen was Andrea’s opposite perhaps to the point of parody. While Andrea lounged in sunglasses and a bathing suit surrounded and doted upon by scantily clad, blissed out bombshells, Laureen sait with picturesque poise and posture. Her back was rigid as the stick likely lodged all the way up her ass. Her suit was crisp, dirty blonde hair done in an immaculate bun, and her eyes conveyed nothing but a cutthroat drive barely restrained by dwindling patience. “I am here, Andrea, because you requested my presence.” She folded one leg over the other, then placed her hands in her lap, fixing Andrea with an intense stare. “You contacted me to discuss business. Are we going to do so or will you continue to waste my very, very valuable time.”

Perhaps she was slightly tipsy, given that Andrea was already on her fourth drink of the morning, or perhaps she’d simply slept too long, leaving her mind tired and muddled, but Andrea recalled no such event. “I think you must be mistaken. I tend to leave the day to day operations up to my executive team anyway, it’s likely my people simply contacted your people.”

Laureen firmly shook her head. “You’re trying my nerves, Andrea, this came for your personal email address. Tell me why I’m here.”

Stirring slightly, Andrea sat up, arousing a gentle groan of protest from the precious little morsel in her lap. “Hush, you,” Andrea cooed affectionately, then ran her thumb along Rose’s cheek. She caught sight of Laureen huffing in disapproval out of the corner of her eye. Returning her gaze to Laureen, Andrea simply shook her head. “Listen, Ms. Wilcox, I don’t know what to tell you. I have no recollection of such an event. You must be mistaken, I sent you no such correspondence, and I haven’t the slightest idea what business we would even have to discuss.”

“I’ll have you know tha—”

“But, Mistress,” Rose piped up, her voice distant and sleepy.

“Not now, little one.” Gently, Andrea pressed the girl's face into her cleavage, but Rose pressed her head upward against her Mistress’ touch, shaking her head.

“Mistress you did send that email though. I remember, I was there,” Rose insisted.

“You were?” That earned a simple, slow, dutiful nod from her adorable little pet. “Hmm, I seem to have forgotten then, how curious.” For a few moments, Andrea wracked her brain for answers, and found nothing but foggy confusion. So, instead, she simply shrugged. “Oh well, sorry Laureen, don’t know what to tell you. I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”

“I can’t believe this,” Laureen spat. “I’m having a hard time even believing this. I mean, which is the greater insult? The fact that you let your slave interrupt me, or the fact that you arranged a meeting between the two of us only to forget why you even did so. You need to straighten out, Andrea. Crack down on this insolent little bimbo you have draped across you and get your shit together, because I won’t forget this. The council will be hearing about my experiences today, you can be sure of that.”

“Whatever, Karen.” From her chest, Andrea heard the rumbling of Rose giggling at her Mistress’ joke, but before either party could get in another word, they were interrupted by the peppy call of one of Andrea’s other pets. Mellissa? It didn’t matter.

“Mistress!” She chirped, walking toward the trio with a serving tray in hand, a frosty drink balanced atop it. “I have the drink you asked me to bring Miss Laureen.” Just as she passed Andrea and Rose, Rose happened to begin a long, lavish stretch. It seemed the timing was just right for Rose to trip the poor little waitress, sending herself, and the drink toppling forward onto Laureen. At the sight of that uptight bitch suddenly coated in icy daiquiri, Andrea burst into haughty laughter. With a start, Laureen stood, practically frothing at the mouth as she glared down at Andrea. “You listen here you lazy little upstart, I will ruin you for this.” If she had anything else to say, Andrea didn’t catch it. As she spoke, Rose had begun pawing needily at Laureen’s breasts, and grinding against her leg. The sight of her special little pet in heat like that was far more interesting. Without another word, Laureen stormed off as Andrea quietly cackled to herself. She truly had the good life. There was one thing that nagged at her though.

“You know something, little Rosey? I don’t remember ordering her that drink at all.”

An innocent giggled rose from Rose’s throat, and she looked down on her pet, smiling affectionately. She reached over to take another sip from her glass. As the liquid touched her tongue, Andrea suddenly felt very drowsy. She closed her eyes.

* * *

Andi sat at her desk, her eyes distant and hazy as she thoughtlessly tapped the keys on her keyboard. Without consciously processing any of it, she finished writing up the documentation she had been instructed to write, attached it to an outgoing email, and hit send. In her ear, someone was speaking. She was on the phone. She heard the words, and some subconscious part of her brain processed them, though whatever semblance of conscious thought she held on to did not understand. The person speaking on the other end paused. This was her cue to reply exactly as she’d been instructed. “Yes, make the arrangements. I’ll sign the official documents when you have them prepared.” Her voice was distant and monotone, the words leaving her lips may well have meant nothing at all. The voice said something else. She hummed an affirmative, and hung up the phone. Her tasks complete, Andi sat motionless, gazing blankly ahead into nothingness, eyes glassy and unfocused. From the corner of the room, she heard a noise, and something compelled Andi to look. Her eyes fell upon Mistress, who immediately commanded the entirety of Andi’s focus. A lazy, dopey smile formed across her lips, her heartbeat picking up and stomach fluttering just at the sight of her owner.

“You’ve done everything I asked?” She spoke with sharp authority, clear, concise, and efficient, though, not without an undercurrent of affection.

“Yes, Mistress.” The response came automatically. Andi hadn’t needed a moment to think, or even process her owner’s words.

“Good plaything.” Without another word, Mistress crossed the room in a few long, purposeful strides and condescendingly scratched her plaything behind the ears. Andi’s legs gave out, and she fell forward into her Mistress, who caught her, then guided her onto her knees. “I have a new task for you, dear.” Chuckling low in her throat, Mistress tilted Andi’s chin upward, forcing her plaything to look up into her Mistress’ eyes. “It’s been nearly a full two hours since you last made me cum. And I’ll start to get impatient if I wait any longer. Make use of that tongue and those lips for me,” she commanded.

Nothing else needed to be said. Andi breathed a contented, dreamy sigh of “yes, Mistress,” and immediately got to work removing her owner’s pants. The entirety of her attention narrowed to one singular point: making her owner feel good. Before Andi even had time to process her own actions, she had removed Mistress’ pants, and slid off her already damp panties, exposing Mistress’ perfect, sopping wet pussy. It was like a void, a beautiful, perfect abyss that swallowed up all that Andi was save a good, diligent, mindless pussylicker. As she leaned forward, and pressed her lips to Mistress’, Andi’s awareness of the world around her plummeted. She no longer felt the ground beneath her, felt the cool air around her. Nothing mattered but fulfilling her true purpose. Eagerly, Andi dove forward, burying her face in Mistress’ crotch.

There, she felt whole. She felt as though she’d found her true place nestled between two soft, plump, pillowy thighs. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet as the taste of obedience she found between Mistress' legs. Somewhere above her, somewhere that sounded so far away now, Andi heard her Mistress begin to moan and gasp in time with the flicking of her tongue. Her face was coated in the hot, slick secretions of her Mistress’ warm, wet nethers. And as Mistress grew louder, she allowed the sound to carry her away, off to an even more distant, more vacant, more mindless place. One where she could simply be a toy fulfilling a purpose. Just a good, obedient plaything doing what her very existence revolved around. And it was heaven.

She let the last remnant of conscious thought slide away, and the good, docile plaything felt nothing but the raw, unimaginable pleasure of obedience drowning all thought. For minutes on end, plaything’s tongue explored the ins and outs of her Mistress’ wet folds. She licked along her labia, sucked her owner’s clit, worked her tongue into her owner as far as it would reach. And, after minutes imperceivable had passed, Mistress finally gasped, clenched her legs, and collapsed forward onto her knees as orgasm rocked her body. Panting in recovery, Mistress raised her eyes to capture plaything’s gaze. “Good girl,” Mistress purred. The concentrated pleasure of Mistress’ praise overwhelmed plaything, leaving her helplessly twitch on the floor in pleasure. A cool, condescending laugh left Mistress’ lips. “Oh dear. That helpless around me already, hmm? You’ve taken so well to your conditioning. I do love seeing you like this. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Standing Mistress lightly grasped plaything by the hair and forced her gaze upward. “I’m sure you’re already aching to have me finish you off. To bind your will to me for the rest of your days, aren’t you?”

There was no doubt in plaything’s head what she wanted. “Yes, Mistress! Please! Own me forever, never let me go!”

Another sharp, condescending laugh pierced the room. “Absolutely precious. I can’t wait to watch that pathetic excuse of a domme persona melt away for good when I make you realize what you’ve become. I think I’ll record it, so I can forever save the memory of the light in your eyes going out one last time. But I’m basically talking to a wall right now. You’ll just happily go along with anything I say, won’t you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” plaything beamed.

“Well, that’s all the use I can make of you for now. I’ll have one of the servants collect you later. For now, cum, don’t stop until you pass out.” No sooner had the words left Mistress’ lips, did plaything’s entire body erupt in rapturous pleasure. Mistress gave a sweet, condescending smile, then turned to walk away. With each step Mistress took away from plaything, more of her mind shut off, until there was nothing but the feeling of her entire body lighting up in all-consuming pleasure.

Chapter 2

Ever since she’d awoken, Andrea had been in this odd funk. No matter what she did to distract herself, her mind couldn’t help but wander to the intense, vivid dream she had awoken from—Andi stood in a line, with all the other slaves, a happy, blank smile plastered across her face as she gazed ahead at her owner. One by one, Mistress walked up to each of her belongings and assigned them a task for the day. She waited patiently for her turn, each time Mistress drew closer, a burning, submissive desire welled up inside of Andi, leaving her squirming in place and rubbing her silky smooth thighs together. When she reached Andi, Mistress flashed a big, gloating smile, and gave out her orders. Andi hadn’t the presence of mind to consciously process her orders, nevertheless her body had moved on its own. Dutifully, she’d marched to the master bedroom and begun a thorough cleaning and tidying up. With each passing moment, her arousal had built as the pleasure of obedience ticked ever upward from her loins. And when she had finally finished cleaning—Gritting her teeth, Andrea shook her head violently, forcing the memory and the feelings it heralded out of her head.

She stomped her foot and growled, then lurched from her chair, pacing the room, trying to somehow smother her arousal with raw anger. Where had those desires come from? Andrea didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. She was a Mistress, an owner, a domme through and through. She had a gift, the ability to bend the weak minded to her will. She’d been born to live at the top, and now what? Some lousy dream had her fantasizing about life at the bottom? “Ridiculous,” she growled disdainfully to nobody in particular.

“What’s wrong, Mistress?” The sweet, innocent voice of her most treasured pet pulled Andrea from her fury. She turned on her heel to see Rose, lounging on the master bed, looking at her Mistress with complete adoration.

“Don’t you worry about it, sweet one, just distracted. I have a lot on my mind right now.” Andrea returned her pet’s smile, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. It was fine, just a dream. She had nothing to worry about. “It’s time I get on with my day anyway.”

“Of course Mistress,” Rose purred. “Aren’t you running late for your meeting with your accountant, by the way?”

“Meeting? I…” She grew silent, taking a moment to remind herself of the day’s schedule, which was hard, she’d felt so spacey and out of touch lately.

“Don’t be silly, Mistress,” Rose giggled. “You’ve had that meeting on your calendar for weeks, remember?”

“I have?” Andrea looked to her pet for confirmation, and Rose simply nodded. “I guess I have,” she admitted. “Well, thank you, little one. Honestly I don’t know what I’d do without such a good, devoted little pet to remind me when I’m forgetting things.” Hurrying along, Andrea got herself ready as quickly as possible, spending the entire time thinking just how lucky she was to have such a darling, loyal pet. Honestly, letting Rose keep most of her mind intact had been the best idea she’d ever had. She’d become an assistant as much as she was a pet. As Andrea strode out the door of her bedroom, a realization struck her, she turned to look over her shoulder. “By the way, Rosey dear, can you remind me what the meeting was about again?”

Giggling, Rose just gave Andrea a big smile. “Dunno Mistress. Just do what comes naturally.” Of course, Andrea thought. That made perfect sense. She left the room and hummed as she strolled down the hall, and allowed her mind to wander—With the master bedroom completely cleaned, new instructions automatically formed in Andi’s head. She smiled, so happy to know that no matter where her Mistress was, she would always know exactly what to do. Having someone else do her thinking for her made Andi happier than anything at all. She crawled onto the bed, and bent over, pushing her ass into the air, then waited. As she waited, her awareness plummeted, simply by staying put and looking pretty like a good, ready to use decoration, Andi was obeying. She loved obeying. Nothing ever filled her with such a profound sense of fulfillment. Hours later, Mistress returned from her day’s activities. Wordlessly, crossed the room, each thump of her footsteps taking Andi’s happiness to new heights—.

“I must say, Miss Combs, no matter how many times we discuss this I can’t get over just how shocked I am by your decision. You’re sure about this?” Andrea’s accountant sat across from her, an attractive looking woman in her mid thirties dressed in a sharp blazer and pencil skirt. Andrea couldn’t help but wonder how she tasted, picturing herself with her head up the woman’s skirt, face buried between her legs, eagerly licking. A tingling, damp feeling built between her legs and Andrea forced herself to think of other things, not daring to wonder where such a thought had come from. “Are you even paying attention?” Her accountant asked. What had been her name again? Andrea couldn’t remember.

“I, yes. It’s fine, just do it.” She answered hurriedly.

With an odd look, and a huff, her accountant stood. “Very well, Miss Combs. I strongly advise that you reconsider, but I will go fetch the proper paperwork and return shortly.” Without another word, she strode from the room, heels clicking along the hard floor reminding Andrea of the sound her Mistress’ heels made in her dream. And god, Andrea was so horny, she leered at the woman as she left the room, wondering how she’d look clad all in leather. The feeling between her legs continued to build and Andrea couldn’t help herself. Desperately, she plunged her hand under her waistband and into her panties, thrusting her fingers between her sopping lips and bucking her hips against her hand as she fingerfucked herself desperately, her mind drifting off—Andi was on her hands and knees, ass in the air as Mistress circled the bed. Lightly, Mistress gave her rear an experimental slap, and Andi moaned in bliss. She was being used by her owner, that was her purpose.

Behind her, she heard the springs of the bed creak as Mistress climbed atop it and, a moment later, Andi felt something hard press against her. Suddenly, she became aware of how achingly empty she felt. She needed something inside her, filling her, fucking her until the last of her mind dripped out onto the bedsheets. A low chuckle rose from behind her, and Mistress grasped her by the hips. “Are you ready, plaything?” Mistress asked, leaning in close to whisper directly into plaything’s ear.

“Yes, Mistress,” plaything answered automatically. She remained perfectly still, but was ready to burst with anticipation at the feeling of Mistress’ strap pressing against her. Gently, Mistress probed at her center, aligning herself with plaything. The mere feeling of the tip of Mistress’ toy nudging her aching slit was enough to leave plaything weak and trembling, but she held firm, because she was a good girl. Just as her thoughts were the ones Mistress put in her head, her body moved only as Mistress desired it to, no matter how much plaything ached with molten anticipation. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to wait long—though she would have, plaything would happily wait as long as her Mistress desired—with one last stroke of plaything’s cheek, Mistress gripped plaything’s hips firmly, and began to thrust.

Immediately, plaything was filled with the indescribably perfect feeling of being used by her owner. There was no better feeling than to be reduced to one singular purpose. Plaything was a vessel for her Mistress’ enjoyment, and she was being such a good girl. As though to confirm what passed for her thoughts, Mistress cooed sweet, domineering, possessive praise in plaything’s ear. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. Take your owner’s strap like a good little plaything,” she spoke, seeming to be half gloating as she railed her prized possession from behind. With boundless eagerness and energy, plaything rutted herself against Mistress’ strap, reveling in the feeling of having her pussy so satisfyingly full, and her head so beautifully empty of all thought save the ones Mistress put there for her. Her pleasure rose to greater and greater heights with each passing moment, and then, just as plaything’s body, arms and legs began to shake, her muscles completely giving out, she—

“What the fuck are you doing?” Andi opened her eyes. Standing in the doorway, with a look of shock and disgust, stood her accountant. The entire room absolutely reeked of Andi’s arousal, her hand still buried between her legs, Andi sat in her chair, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she stared ahead blankly. Suddenly, a simple truth of her universe dawned on her: Andi could touch herself all day, she’d never cum. Doing so would only make plaything hornier and hornier, edging herself to greater heights of desperation. No, if she were to cum, she would need to earn it through submission and obedience. Her eyes focused like a laser on the woman standing in the doorway.

“Fuck me.” Andi begged.

“Are you ki—”

“Please! Please anything, touch me, let me lick your pussy I’ll do anything,” Hungry desperation in her eyes, Andi slid off the chair and onto her knees as she crawled across the floor toward the shocked and bewildered woman before her. She reached the accountant, stopping before her and nuzzling her thigh desperately, looking up at her with pleading need. “Please, own me.” Andi begged.

“Get the fuck away from me,” she shouted in disgust, pushing Andi away and scurrying out of the room.

“Please,” Andi moaned. “Need to cum.” She whined. With nobody left around, and without the strength to stand, Andi slumped against the wall. She stared blankly ahead, her hand slipping between her legs to fingerfuck herself. Andi had no awareness of time passing, the only thoughts left in her head were the thoughts of being fucked, of submitting. She drooled heavily from both sets of lips, mindlessly fingering herself. And then, like a gift from god, no, like a goddess herself, Mistress stepped through the door. She stared imperiously down at her plaything, and smiled. “Dear oh dear,” she crooned. “It seems you’re further along than I had thought. Let’s get you to bed so I can put that aching little slit to work, hmm?”

“Yess, Mistress,” plaything slurred, eyes glassy and full of worshipful adoration.

Some time later, Andrea awoke in bed once again. Her whole body felt sore, her legs were jelly, but she felt amazing, though her head was a little fuzzy. Blinking heavily to clear the sleep away, she tried to piece together her day. There had been the meeting, she couldn’t really remember what that was about, but she was fairly certain she’d gotten what she came for. Then things got murky. She remembered a lot of pleasure, so she must have had sex, but with whom? One of her pets, obviously. She got the vague sense whoever had been involved had been utterly full of desperation and submission and mindlessness, but that hardly narrowed it down, all of her pets got like that around their Mistress. Sitting up, Andrea breathed a heavy sigh. Had she been stagnating too much? As wonderful as it was, her life as the wealthy, pampered owner of a harem of well trained pets wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating. Had she grown lazy and stagnant, had her mind dulled from the constant relaxation, lazy days and drunken sexapades? That would explain her general lack of mental clarity lately. But at the same time it all seemed quite extreme. There must have been another explanation for it all.

“Mmhh, good morning, Mistress.” Rose purred from her place next to Andrea in their shared bed. Andrea smiled, relaxing immediately. Her worries were less important when her special little girl was around.

“Good morning, sweet pet,” Andi lovingly stroked Rose’s hair.

“Did you have a good meeting?” Rose asked.

“I... think so?” Andi replied, scratching her head.

“Miss Laureen didn’t give you too much trouble did she? She was here earlier, Lisa pet mentioned her looking around for you while I was still sleeping in.”

“She was? If that’s the case she must have given up and stormed off, because we never spoke.” Andrea scratched her head, leaving without getting to speak with the person she’d come to see was unlike Laureen, not that Andrea was particularly upset to have gone without seeing her fellow owner.

A wide grin spread across Rose’s face. “That’s good, Mistress. You shouldn’t pay her any mind anyway, she’s none of your concern.”

Chapter 3

Something was wrong; that much, to say the very least, was absolutely clear to Andrea. She’d just finished her third meeting over the past two days which had left her absolutely lost. Apparently Andrea had been calling these meetings, all featuring rather important figures within her own little kingdom. Most recently it had been the chief executive of her company’s board of directors. Admittedly, Wade was as boring as he was old and unlikable. Which was to say, he was very boring, old and unlikable. As such she could hardly blame herself for spacing out in the meeting. Yet she had no idea why the meeting had been called or what its outcome had been. Regardless, Wade had left looking quite displeased, which, at the very least, was a small victory. As she strode through the halls of her opulent manor, Andrea found her legs seemed to move with a mind of their own as she wracked her brain for a reason behind all the strange occurrences she’d been experiencing lately.

First, she tried to gather her thoughts, catalogue what was missing. For starters, she’d been having trouble focusing lately, but when that issue had first cropped up was totally lost on her. To make things worse, Andrea seemed to have huge gaps in her memory, which correlated very strongly with that lack of focus. Lastly, something very important was clearly going on in the background of her day to day life. These were the sort of meetings Andrea would have maybe once a year, to have them all back to back like this suggested there was an important catalyst bringing them about.

As she continued to puzzle over the reasons for her situation, Andrea rounded a corner, walked through a doorway, and found herself in a familiar room. Before her, was a padded chair, equipped with all manner of straps and other restraints. Next to it, a monitor sat powered off, connected to a computer, a large face-covering helmet suspended over the chair, and a small, blinking headset. Confusion bubbled up within her, as though on autopilot, Andrea had walked into her pet conversion room. Before her stood the device she used to amplify her gift, and rewrite the minds of the women she’d bound to her will. Why on earth had she wandered here of all places? Andrea hadn’t taken a new pet in months, she had no business here. Only, there was something strange. The room was hot, and stank of sex. In other words, it had seen recent use. That didn’t sound right at all. Perplexed, Andrea crossed the room in a few long strides, powering on the monitor and accessing the machine’s logs. A look of shock crossed Andrea’s face as she realized that, over the past month and a half, the machine had been used exactly four times, the most recent use being only hours ago. And, considering Andrea was the only one authorized to access the machine, something was terribly wrong.

A sense of dread burrowed deep in her stomach as Andrea furiously tapped at the keyboard, pulling up the video records of the very first in this series of unauthorized uses. She opened the video, and gasped in shock and horror at what she saw displayed clear as day on her monitor.

Andi stood in the middle of the room, completely still with arms at her side as she gazed ahead with eyes as empty as her mind. Her mouth hung open in a slack-jawed expression as she stared directly into the camera, awaiting her next set of orders. The distant sound of footsteps drawing closer could be heard, and then, Mistress appeared, flanked by two other slaves. Immediately Andi snapped to attention, her eyes lighting up with adoration at the sight of the woman who owned her mind.

“Hmm,” Mistress mused, “it seems that your mind is good and pacified for the time being.”

“Yesss, Mistress. You are my goddess and I am nothing but your devoted servant,” Andi slurred.

There was a giggle, and Mistress said something unintelligible to the two other slaves. Immediately, both women, wearing expressions as vacant as Andi’s, sprang into action, forcing Andi to lie back within the chair behind her. Which wasn’t to say Andi put up any fight. She eagerly followed their lead, allowing herself to be strapped down and tightly secured in her restraints.

“Well then, let’s make your programming permanent.” Nothing sounded better to Andi, she wanted nothing more than to have her mind owned by such a beautiful, perfect woman. With each step Mistress took toward the control module, Andi’s arousal heightened. She squirmed and panted helplessly in the chair, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she bucked her hips, futilling grinding against nothing. And then, Mistress was above her, gazing down at her with a taunting smile. “Hmm, I must say this is rather boring, don’t you think? I mean, I sort of cheated getting you under in the first place, never got to see you put up a proper fight.” She flipped a switch, causing the overhead lights to come up, blinking brightly in odd, flashing, blinding patterns. “Let’s give you a fighting chance, shall we?” She purred. “Wake up, Andrea.”

The first thing Andrea felt was stinging pain in her eyes from the incessant flashing of her own brainwashing machine. Before the full horror of her situation even set in, Andrea was already helplessly thrashing in her bonds. As the reality, and futility of her situation set in, Andrea threw her entire weight against the restraints to no avail, screaming all manner of obscenities at her captor. “Who’s there? Show yourself you goddamn bitch!” She shouted at the blurry silhouette lurking in her peripheral, obscured by the blinding light.

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head, sweetheart,” the woman sounded familiar, then she laughed, and Andrea realized exactly who she was speaking to. “Gosh, I’ve always wanted to say that. Maybe it’s a little overdone or cliche, but it’s so perfectly condescending, don’t you think?”

“You!” Andrea spat. “How fucking dare you, after everything I—”

“Hush, now.” Two fingers clamped Andrea’s lips shut, leaving her to scream her distorted and muffled insults in vain. “It’s time to give up and surrender your mind to me, permanently.” She snapped her fingers, and the two slaves advanced on Andrea, one stuffing a gag into her mouth while the other worked her fingers into her panties.

“Mistress,” one of them giggled vacantly. “I’m so excited! You’re going to be just like us, so empty and happy forever. You’re going to love it.” Horror dawned on Andrea as she realized that between her legs, arousal was beginning to build, her pussy beginning to soak and ache for attention, which was happily granted.

“Oh dear,” while she couldn’t see her face, Andrea could hear the gloating smirk plastered on her captors face. It dripped from her every gloating word. “I think she’s enjoying this, girls. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s a place for you at my feet when all this is settled and done.”

Helplessly, Andrea screamed as another switch was flicked on the device’s control module, and the helmet began to descend, lowering itself to cover her face. She struggled to squirm, to pull her head free, but the straps holding her in place were far stronger than anything Andrea could ever hope to escape. The last thing Andrea saw as the helmet blocked her vision, was the sight of her own slave removing Andrea's pants. For a moment, she sat in the dark, screaming into an empty void of blackness. Over and over again Andrea told herself she could find a way to resist, but she struggled to believe it. Nobody could resist the power of her brainwashing device when it was operated by someone blessed with the gift. Andrea had no more time to fret over her situation, as, a moment later a low hum picked up all around her, vibrating from every angle, reverberating into her skull, into her mind. Immediately, her thrashing stopped as her body went limp, muscles completely relaxing along with her mind. Intellectually Andrea knew she needed to resist, but all the passion, all the fear and anger and dread had evaporated.

She sat still, unable to move even if she wanted to, gazing straight ahead into nothingness. Then the lights started, blinking soothingly, prettily, mesmerizingly. A deep, sleepy confusion settled over her mind. “Nooo, lemme out,” she slurred unintelligibly into her gag. She was likely completely unheard over the sound of the machine, her voice having grown quiet and meek, but even if she had been heard, she wouldn’t have been allowed to escape. A curious sensation built within Andrea, starting deep in her gut and building slowly. It was warm, and heavy, and brought with it a deep need. The gears in her mind turned slowly as her muddled thoughts pieced together it’s meaning. She gasped softly into her gag as realization dawned on her. It was arousal, she was horny. A muffled giggle rose from her throat, and then, as though reading her mind, a tongue pressed against her exposed pussy, causing a raw, primal moan to erupt from her core. Then the voice started.

“You are owned,” it said. And the voice was so pretty, so nice, so authoritative. Part of Andrea wanted to protest, to deny that she was owned. She was a Mistress, after all. But Andrea also knew that if she agreed with the pretty voice that meant she would be let out sooner. Maybe if she just did as she was told, Andrea could be let out without the machine doing its job. “You are owned.” The machine repeated. And, this time, Andrea echoed the sentiment into her gag.

“I am owned,” she mumbled. And, in many ways, that made sense. Everyone else who’d gone through the machine was owned, so wouldn’t that make her owned too?

“You live to please your Mistress,” it said. And, automatically, Andrea repeated the phrase back. Which really, just made sense. She knew exactly what a Mistress was for, she’d been one, after all. Those who were owned, were owned by Mistresses. And Mistresses were for pleasing and obeying.

“Your thoughts belong to your Mistress. Your mind belongs to your Mistress.”

“My thoughts belong to my Mistress. My mind belongs to my Mistress.”

“There is no pleasure greater than obedience.”

“There is no pleasure greater than obedience.”

“You love and worship your owner.”

“I love and worship my owner.”

“Good girl,” the voice purred. Andi shuddered, an orgasm wracking her entire body at the sound of her owner’s praise. “Now, I have some very special instructions for you…”

An hour later, Andi emerged from the machine, completely brainwashed, a guileless smile on her face. “Do you understand your purpose, plaything?” Mistress asked.

“Yes, Mistress.” Andi answered.

“Good girl, now return to bed and go to sleep. When you wake up tomorrow morning, you will have forgotten tonight’s events, and believe yourself to still be Mistress Andrea. But you and I will know the truth of who you truly are, won’t we?” Mistress asked, cupping her belonging’s chin.

“Yes, Mistress.” Nothing sounded hotter to Andi than being secretly controlled by her Mistress, blissfully unaware of her own slavery as she went about her business believing herself to be in charge of her own mind.

“Off you go then, plaything.”

The tape cut short. Andrea sat on the lip of the chair, mouth agape, her frightened, wide-eyed expression reflected back in the black screen. As she processed everything she’d seen, tried to convince herself it wasn’t real, that it was some twisted prank, a truly horrific realization dawned on Andrea. She was wet. Wetter than she remembered being in weeks. Her insides burned with aching arousal, she hips lightly, slowly gyrated, grinding against the very chair she’d been brainwashed in a month and a half ago. She needed to do something. To get out of here, to flee the mansion to somewhere safe and break her programming while she was still of sound mind. Then... then she would come back for revenge. Her eyes darted to the door, then back to the screen, then the door again as a hand snaked into her panties. She definitely needed to leave. And she would. She absolutely would. But, well, if she was going to break her programming, she would need to know everything that had been done to her mind, right? Andrea panted as her fingers pumped in and out of her needy pussy while her free hand moved to play the next video log.

Nearly completely still, plaything knelt between her owner’s legs, eagerly tonguing Mistress’ soaking wet crotch. Behind her, a procession of slaves stood in line, each happily waiting their own turn to be reconditioned. But plaything paid them no mind, in fact, she didn’t even know they were there, because Mistress had told plaything to focus on nothing but worshiping her owner with her tongue. Over the course of an hour, the line dwindled, all while plaything eagerly licked between Mistress’ legs, or kissed her inner thighs, or simply lay happily at her feet. When the last slave emerged from the machine, they all lined themselves up before their new Mistress. Their rightful Mistress, not the false one who now eagerly debased herself. The next thing she knew, Mistress had grasped plaything by the chin and turned her around to face the line of waiting slaves.

“Now, sweet one. Do you see these girls? What are they to you?” Mistress asked.

The answer came unbidden. “Your property,” plaything answered.

“That’s right,” Mistress crooned. “Just like you. Except there is one very important distinction. You’re my special little toy. Do you know what that means?”

Again, plaything knew without even a moment's thought, looking at those girls, there was one very important distinction between herself and them. They were standing before their owner, and plaything, she was kneeling. “I’m beneath all of them.” She answered happily.

“That’s right.” Affectionately, Mistress ran her hair through plaything’s hair. “You’re at the very bottom of the hierarchy, beneath me, even beneath my other slaves. When I’m not around, you’re to entertain them however they see fit. Isn’t that wonderful?”

It was. It truly was. Nothing made plaything happier than knowing she would be used by all these beautiful women whenever they pleased. “Well then,” Mistress said, slapping plaything on the rear gently. “Best get to work then, hmm? Those asses won’t eat themselves.” Eagerly, plaything crawled toward the line of slaves, her mind already plummeting into a world of complete, utter submission and service.

Andrea was cumming, she was cumming to the image of herself on hand and knees, crawling toward her own slaves to obey them however she was told. Her hand furiously worked between her legs as she bucked her hips into the air, lying completely back in the same chair that had brought her here. Panting, she sat up, and leaned forward to play the next video. Behind her, Andrea heard a throat being cleared. She turned. “It’s you,” she gasped.

“Sleep, plaything.”

Chapter 4

Andrea’s eyes open. Had she been asleep? Just drifted off? She was in the middle of the opulent meeting room she’d made so much use of over the past few days. Seated around the table were her accountant, with an apprehensive, uncomfortable look written on her face, and Laureen, wearing a gloating, prideful smirk. Before Andrea was a document. She glanced over it, finding it long, and full of complex words that sort of simply skipped along the surface of her mind. “Are you going to sign then, Miss Combs?” Her Accountant asked. Andrea glanced up, giving her a searching look, then returned her gaze to the page, eyeing the blank signature space, lastly, she looked to Laureen, who chewed her lip and gestured her to continue.

“But wha—?”

“This is why you called us here, is it not, Andrea? Just sign the document, and all this can go away.” There was an authoritative firmness with which Andrea was unfamiliar hearing from Laureen. That wasn’t to say Laureen typically spoke without any authority, but such a tone was typically reserved for her lessers, not her equals. Feeling utterly bewildered and cowed, Andrea meekly peered down at the document, finding a pen next to it. She reached for it, keeping her eyes down, and, with a shaky hand, signed the bottom of the page. The moment the pen fell from her hand, some instinct screamed at her. What on earth had she just signed? What agreement had been made? What did she just sign off on? The dread inside her only amplified as, across the table, Laureen bellowed a gleeful, mocking cackle. She leaned over and snatched the document, then quickly placed her own signature below Andrea’s. “You stupid little slut,” she sneered. “You just signed your life away to me. You thought you were some big bad hotshot Mistress living it up, but your favorite little slave tipped me off to the truth: you’re nothing but a meek little bitch on the inside. Now you, and everything you own belong to me. I wonder what I’ll have you do first.”

Part of Andrea didn’t want to believe it. The rest of her somehow knew Laureen wasn’t lying. She’d just signed her life away. It all made sense now, the fogginess in her head, the gaps in her memory. She had slowly, but surely been brainwashed. The worst part was, she could feel it. Andrea could feel the docile, submissive persona implanted within her fighting to take over. Even now she felt the urge to sink to her knees and cower before the cruel Mistress. There was nothing she could do, if she’d already been brainwashed, then even her own gifts could never save her. Not against a real Mistress. Fear and dread writhed within Andrea at the prospect of spending the rest of her life under the heel of such a sadistic woman. Then, something happened; behind her, Andrea heard the door to the conference room swing open. Dressed in an elegant dress and stiletto heels, and standing in the doorway with cool confidence written large on her face, was Rose. She strode into the room, a swagger in her step as she marched past Andrea, past Laureen, past the woman who was now Laureen’s accountant, and to the head of the table.

“Ah, there she is. The little bitch who sold you out. I think I’ll keep both of you,” Laureen mused. She fixed her icy gaze upon Rose. “Come here,” she commanded. Instead, Rose simply sat down, disregarding Laureen entirely.

“Thank you both for coming. I apologize for my own lateness.” The distant, sweet, dreamy tone Andrea was used to hearing Rose speak in was completely absent. She looked to the accountant. “Miss Reynolds, I assume the documents are all in order.” With a quick, curt nod, the accountant took the signed document from in front of Laureen, and passed it to Rose.

“All finished, m’am. You’re welcome to look it over if you like, and I can make copies at your leisure,” she answered.

Her voice trembling with rage, Laureen stood with a start. “What is the meaning of this,” she hissed.

For her own part, Andrea was hardly paying attention, she had drawn her legs inward, and was practically cowering in her chair as she dreaded the future that awaited her under the ruthless rule of Mistress Laureen.

A cool laugh echoed low in Rose’s throat. “The two of you just signed away your lives to me,” she said frankly.

With a start, Laureen began to stride across the room, her fists clenched. “Listen here you insolent little—”

“Kneel,” Rose commanded; and, with dawning horror in her eyes, Laureen stopped short, and knelt. Again, Rose laughed, savoring the moment of her victory. “Oh, Laurey, you made such an excellent pawn. With a few clever calls and a well placed distraction I ensnared your mind just as I’d ensnared little Andi’s.” Her gaze swept the room, falling on Andrea. The moment those eyes fell on her, Andrea stopped shaking. It was as though a pair of soothing arms had wrapped around her, a gentle blanket of safe submission washing over her. “And now I have both of you. All of your assets, all of your talent, all of your authority at my command. Say it, Laurey. I own you.” Cold eyes locked onto Laureen’s kneeling form. Andrea could see the woman shaking, her teeth gritted and her mouth tight as her knitted brow.

“W-won’t,” she choked. Each syllable seemed to come with herculean effort.

“Say it, Laurey. You’ll feel better.”

“Y-youuu. Ownnnnnnnoooo. You. Ownnnn. Me.” Sweat was dripping off her brow as she struggled, and failed to resist, but the moment she finished speaking a look of defeat crossed her face as her eyes fell and her jaw slacked, her whole body slumping forward, but remaining on her knees.

“Again. Say it like you mean it.” Rose was merciless.

“You own me.” Laurey whimpered.

“Again.”

“You own me.”

“More.”

“You own me. You own me. Youuu owwnn mmeeeee.” That last time it again sounded like it took great effort. But anyone with half a brain could look at Laurey and understand why. She was panting, twitching. Her hips were humping the empty air as little gasps and groans punctuated each word.

“Cum for your Mistress,” Rose commanded. And Laurey fell forward, moaning and groaning in wanton pleasure. Chuckling, Rose turned to face Andrea. “Now now, my little Andi. My precious plaything. What to do with you.”

“How did you...?” There was awe in her voice, Andrea couldn’t deny that. If Andrea hadn’t spent hours gazing upon that gorgeous face, she’d have thought Rose to be an entire different person from the sweet, ditzy, sleepy, treasured pet. Her eyes were sharp and focused, her posture poised and perfect, no longer were her movements lazy or slightly uncoordinated. To Andrea, Rose looked like a predator, coiled and ready to strike at her prey. She flashed a charismatic, confident grin, and leaned back in her chair, lifting one leg over the other.

“Simple,” she purred. “People like you and Laureen have the world handed to you. Born both wealthy and with the gift? It’s a free ticket to easy street. Take someone like me though? I had to work for everything I have. Now, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that I, too, can bend others to my will. But without the cash to stay above the law wherever my gifts failed me, things never came so freely as they have with you. So, obviously, I decided the best way to get what I wanted would be to take it.”

“B-but how did you keep from getting your will completely dominated.”

“That was the hard part,” she said. “I must admit, I took a big risk doing this, but the rewards were too great to pass up. I found you, knowing you had a reputation for being less hard on your pets, and made sure to conform my look to your type. Then I spent as much time in the sort of circles you people pull from as possible. Once I had your interest I managed to oh so subtly influence you to tone down the strength of your brainwashing.”

“But you could have—”

“Hush, plaything. Interrupting me? I see some of your Mistress persona has yet to fully die off, we’ll have to fix that soon. But, to answer your question, yes, that very well could have been it for me. In fact, it nearly was. For a good year, I really was just your little Rosey. Your sweet, beloved pet. And I was happy. But slowly, surely, I gained by wits back, and started planning my takeover. You know what I realized during that time though?” She relaxed her posture, and nodded to Andrea, indicating her turn to speak.

“W-what?”

“I realized that I rather enjoyed being your pet. That is to say, I enjoyed being pampered, having no responsibilities. Part of me even considered staying like that, though pride got in the way. You had the right idea choosing to outsource most of the hard work off to underlings while you got to kick back and relax. Before I had all these ambitions about power and domination. But now I realize even you had plenty of hard work to do. Work and risk. I’m not a fan. If I were in your place I’d have to join your little Mistress Council, I’d have to manage my business and assets, I’d have to keep track of the logistics of housing and caring for my belongings. And I finally understood the solution: why would I ever try to replace you, when instead I could simply control you from behind the scenes?”

For a moment, Rose paused, studying Andrea, then continued. “So, here’s how things are going to work from now on. To the outside world, including those pesky peers of yours, Andrea Combs will have retired, sold off her business assets, and gone to live a secluded life with her beloved, cherished, pampered pet Rose. Meanwhile, Laureen Wilcox will continue to live her life as a cold, harsh ‘owner’ and businesswoman. All while, of course, funding my extravagant lifestyle. I’ll, of course, be living a secluded life here on this already beautiful, comfortable, and homey estate.”

“And, wh-what will actually happen to me?” Andrea’s whole body was trembling. To her shock, she realized, it was in anticipation. Rose had such a commanding aura about her, and there was no denying it, Andrea’s body was responding to it. The urge to submit was rising within her, overriding residual fear or shame.

Standing, Rose crossed the room, and loomed over Andrea. “You?” She asked, gently stroking Andrea’s cheek. “You get a choice. I could, if I wanted to, take you right here and right now. But frankly, that sounds boring. Because you know what I think? I think I don’t need to. I think you crave a life at my feet. I think this was who you really were all along: a submissive, needy little plaything who wants a Mistress to control every facet of her life. That’s why taking you for myself was so easy. So what’s it going to be? Will you walk out of here, escape to some new life somewhere else? Or, will you kiss your Mistress’ pussy and submit yourself to the fate of being my good girl forever? Think it over, but I think we both know what you're going to choose. I promise I'll take very good care of you.”

Did she even have a choice? She'd already resigned herself to a life of submission to Laureen before she was taken. And at this point getting an owner who seemed kinder than that cruel sadist seemed like a relief. Like a gift. In a way, Andrea was glad it was Rose who owned her mind. In many ways Rose had seemed like a knight in shining armor stepping on to the scene all confident and poised to rescue her from Laureen’s cruelty, and whisk her away safely to a life of submissive bliss. Besides, Andrea grown quite fond of Rose. Perhaps she had even come to love Rose. But was she then to simply give in? Perhaps it was a relief that, even as her mind tried to debate the right course of action, Andrea’s body was already sliding out of her chair. It took the hard choices awah, just like Mistress would do, for the rest of her life. She sank to her knees and needily pawed at her Mistress’ crotch. Giggling, Mistress removed her pants, then her panties, exposing her warm, wet sex to the cool air. And plaything, full of eager love and affection for her Mistress, leaned in to seal her fate.

* * *

Sunlight reflected off the shining frames of her shades, and gently settled upon Rose’s skin wherever her lounge-chair’s umbrella failed to cast its shadow. The cool sweat of a freshly mixed whisky sour dripped onto her knuckles as she lazily sipped at the tart, refreshing drink. Beside her, one of her playthings—a redhead named Corrine dressed in nothing but a bra and short shorts—slowly, rhythmically waved a palm-frond over her Mistress; the docile, empty smile plastered on her face matched her vacant eyes. Resting atop her, with her head gently placed against Rose’s breast, was far and away the Mistress’ absolute favorite of all her playthings, Andi. Smiling affectionately, Rose brushed her fingers through Andi’s adorable chestnut curls, eliciting a soft coo. Rose giggled, and in response, her treasured plaything nuzzled against Rose languidly.

Neither woman had a care in the world. Rose’s affairs and cover were effectively managed by Laurey, who found herself stewing in pleasure and arousal every time she commanded someone on behalf of her Mistress. And, Rose’s prized plaything, a treasured possession more helpless, needy, and submissive than any and all of Rose’s other playthings, happily basked in the affection of her Mistress’ ownership. She felt a profound sense of safety and comfort, knowing her thoughts were not her own, knowing her life belonged to someone else who would look after her, knowing she had one purpose in life: to serve. Above her, Andi’s Mistress stirred, murmuring a small, nearly inaudible command. Happily, Andi began to kiss down her Mistress’ belly, before pressing her face between her Mistress’ legs, and beginning her morning act of worship. To Rose, getting to spend every morning like this was simply paradise. And, even if she could think for herself, Andi, or plaything, or whomever she was from one moment to the next, would agree.