The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After a month-long interview process, Olivia Walker was hired to be a secretary for the CEO of the most profitable candy company in the sweets industry. Her start-date at that CEO (Victoria Hawthorne)’s office was set for two weeks in the future. All Olivia’s acquaintances congratulated her, saying she’d gotten herself to a decent position for someone only twenty-four years old. Olivia accepted their praises politely, but she thought she saw judgement in their eyes, imagined the critical comments they weren’t sharing. Being a well-paid secretary in your twenties seemed pretty pathetic when the CEO you were secretarying for was also in her twenties.

But even if her acquaintances were all judging her behind her back, Olivia didn’t care. Because she’d wanted to work in Victoria’s office for a very specific reason. Olivia had a plan in mind she was hoping to implement... and as Victoria’s secretary, she’d now be well-positioned to do so.

Soon she started work; her entire first day, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was lucky, and that her luck would run out. She’d felt that way throughout the interview process, too. But Victoria had never recognized Olivia from years earlier at any point. And as Olivia’s first day turned into her first week, and that week into other weeks, and those weeks into months, it seemed that Victoria wasn’t going to recognize her.

All through her first months working there, Olivia kept her plan in mind, but did nothing to enact it. She let herself become accustomed to her tasks, to the other staff of the company, and to Victoria’s schedule and expectations. Victoria never praised her for her work, but the other employees all told Olivia the fact that Victoria had never yet chewed Olivia out was what constituted high praise, from her.

The first few months had gone by that way, but now, it was just another quiet Friday afternoon, and Olivia had made up her mind to move forward with her plan.

Consequently though, she felt her nerves were getting the better of her, inside. She had her plan; she’d made her plan, and she’d taken preliminary steps toward achieving it. But she wasn’t sure if she could trust herself, in this moment, to carry the plan through to completion. She had to make a bigger stride in the direction of completing it than she’d ever made so far, and that was daunting, made her feel daunt-ed.

Instead of sitting at her desk and stressing, she got up to make a quick trip to the bathroom. At least standing and moving herself around would give her the chance to stretch, and change her environment at least briefly. Change of environment could bring about change of mindset. And getting to do something kinetic might draw her attention outward, keep it from being fixed inward.

Once she was standing and walking toward the bathroom, she felt slightly better. For the duration of the walk, her mind was blissfully silent.

She reached the bathroom-door and pulled it open. Once she was inside, she concluded that she was the only one currently in the bathroom. That suited her fine; she wouldn’t have to be self-conscious about what she was doing in here, or how long she was taking. No one else would know any of that information, so there wouldn’t be anything to feel self-conscious of.

She was standing still in the bathroom though, so she was no longer getting any kinetic activity; which meant nothing was distracting her from the way she felt internally. There was no difference between sitting still at her desk, and standing still in this bathroom. In both cases, she was still, and while she was still, all her focus was on her feelings... and so her nerves crept up on her...

She approached the counter of sinks, just to be moving again, to stop that stillness. As she approached though, she happened to glance into the mirror which was directly across from her.

Seeing her reflection there did something positive for her, actually. She clung to that response inside herself, and looked into the mirror with more intention, now.

Because the image of her reflection was something which existed outside of her, it gave her attention something to latch on to. As long as she was looking there, something would be distracting her from her nerves. She was standing still now, but she didn’t need to be moving to receive distraction, now; she could just keep focusing on her reflection, and receive distraction that way.

Since what she was doing was actively working, she let her attention travel through her reflection in sections.

She looked at her head, first, but her glance was drawn to rest slightly above it; the bump of her high-ponytail had caught her eyes.

She’d gathered all of her long, straight black-hair into that hairstyle as usual, this morning, since that was the hairstyle she favored on days she worked; it was the hairstyle she considered to be her office uniform, and since today had been a workday, she’d styled her hair into it.

Her eyes traveled a little lower, and then she met her reflection’s gaze. Reflected hazel-eyes looked back at her as she stared toward them; her eyes skimmed over the other features of her face more quickly. She’d let her attention linger on her hair and on her eyes; she’d showed a bit of favoritism there, maybe. She knew her hair and her eyes were two of her more striking features. Her hair hung almost straightener-straight and always looked elegant even when she’d invested very little time into it, and she knew when she had it gathered into a high-ponytail it looked even more elegant still. And she knew her hazel-eyes could be attention-catching, too.

Her hair and her eyes created the illusion sometimes that she was prettier than she was, since both features stood out almost to the point of seeming exceptional. Other features of hers were much less exciting; her nose was more plain-looking and nondescript; so were her mouth, her chin and her jaw. All of those features were more forgettable; so it had seemed worth it to only look at her best features, and forget everything else.

She didn’t question the extent to which she’d internalized past assessments of her looks that she’d received from people in her life, particularly past romantic-partners. In her mind, the forgettability of her other features was just objective truth.

She’d finished considering her reflected head, and her eyes fell now to the reflection of her chest.

For a moment she considered more broadly, taking her entire torso in at once. She’d enforced her office-uniform on herself in hair-form this morning when she’d put her ponytail in. But she’d also enforced her office-uniform on herself in clothing-form, too, by dressing the way she usually did. Most workdays, she wore a white-blouse and a black-skirt, and she’d done the same thing today. She had many different work-blouses, but they were all in one shade of white or another. Likewise, she had many different work-skirts, but they were all in various shades of black.

Today her white-blouse was cream-colored, and her black-skirt was verging on being dark gray.

She let her eyes travel back up slightly; now she considered her chest again. It had always disappointed her; her breasts were only a b-cup and she’d always felt they were pathetically puny.

Usually, in looking at them, she felt moved to lament their appearance at length. But today, she ed her plan. Her breasts wouldn’t be this small for much longer... she had the supernatural means to switch them for a better pair, and in the course of following her plan, she’d have the opportunity to... she just needed to wait a short while longer...

For a moment, she pictured Victoria in her mind’s eye. She had the supernatural means to switch, but still needed a model to switch from. And Victoria would be a good model to use. Victoria had a very sexy body... had such sexy breasts... and they would be Olivia’s, soon. She just had to follow her plan...

Her eyes travelled further down; her breasts were small like the rest of her was small. Her waist narrowed in to be very petite, but the rest of her above and below it was fairly petite too, so it didn’t so much seem like she narrowed in there so much as it seemed like she was just a long, straight, very thin line from head to toe. Her waist was petite, her hips were slim, and her ass was small. To cap all that off, she was on the shorter side of things, too. She only reached a height of five foot four; so she seemed petite, whether she was being considered in of her breasts, her waist, her hips, her ass or her overall height. But again Olivia ed Victoria’s body: those large hips, that large ass... those sexy features soon to become Olivia’s, how Olivia looked forward to that... and Olivia felt comforted.

She glanced over herself one final time; having come in here to study her reflection had distracted her throughout, and now having spent some minutes doing this, she did feel calmer. The nerves which had been plaguing her to begin with weren’t bothering her nearly as much; they weren’t bothering her hardly at all. She was ready to leave the bathroom, now. She was ready to do more than that, too. She wasn’t just going to back and sit at her desk. She was ready to go finally enact her plan, make larger strides toward her long-time goal than she’d ever made before. Turning from the mirror, she ventured off to go do that.

Victoria kept a mirror in her office; she met with enough people here throughout any given day that she found it handy to have it there. She usually knew when she had a meeting lined up, and usually she had a moment or two before the meeting started to rush over to her mirror and check her appearance, tidy it up if that turned out to be called for.

She didn’t have any meeting coming up after this, but she still wanted to go over and check herself in the mirror. It was a Friday afternoon, and it had been pretty quiet all day, so she thought she should be able to leave early, in the next five to fifteen minutes. But if she did leave early, she’d be going straight home to her wife, Lexi, and her wife would be there waiting for her. This was the last mirror Victoria was going to have access to before coming face to face with her wife again. And she always liked to look nice for her wife, so she wanted to make sure she looked good now, before she left. Then she’d know she still looked at least that good when she got home in forty-five minutes from now, or so. She stood from her desk and walked over to the mirror.

Her hair was a bit out of place; she walked back to her desk and took a comb out of one of her drawers. She watched her reflection as she combed her long blonde hair out to neatness. Then she stood for a moment, looking at her face. She considered it in its entirety, first.

Her skin was without a single blemish, so smooth that if she had been perfectly motionless she might have been mistaken for a ceramic figurine. Her skin stayed this way too, too, with only minimal effort on her part. She didn’t have to engage in any complicated skin-care routines; she washed her face with water, and occasionally bar-soap, and this was still the result.

She began looking over the individual features of her face more carefully. The blue-eyes of her reflection were the same icy color she was used to seeing; her lips were full and plump as usual, too. She sought out her purse, put the comb in it, and took out a lip-gloss tube she’d had in it. Standing in front of the mirror, she put the gloss on her mouth, then twisted the wand back into the tube and dropped the closed tube back into her purse.

She tilted her head as she considered what she was wearing.

It was a Friday, so she’d dressed more casually than she would have on a day where there’d been meetings to attend, whether they were one-on-one meetings or group meetings. So as she usually did when she tried to dress more casually, she’d put on a polo-shirt and tight pair of jeans. She’d dressed more casually, but there was one element of her outfit that defied her more casual presentation. She’d worn her polo-shirt and jeans, but she had also put on the same kind of jewelry she wore every day, even on non-casual days, and that elevated her outfit as a whole to being more than simply casual.

Today, she was wearing a silver necklace that dripped sapphires; real sapphires. The longest chain of it reached almost to her navel, and there was a sapphire at that end-point, but the necklace was made of multiple different chains hanging down in parallel, though they were of various lengths and staggered back from the longest point to the shortest point, which sat level to her collarbone. One chain to her navel, two chains to her lowest rib, two chains to the swell of her breasts, two chains to just past her shoulders, and then two very short chains to her collarbone. Each chain had a real sapphire at the end of it, a real sapphire of somewhat obnoxious size, and the chain itself was solid silver right through, instead of being made of some other material and then only coated in silver.

She had many ridiculously extravagant pieces of jewelry like this one, loved them all equally, and cycled through them day by day, whether it was a more casual day or a more formal day. People could always see her wealth, see her worth just by looking at her... she thought that was exactly as it should be. People should see how valuable she was; she deserved that. After all, she had risen to her position in life in just a short number of years; she was only twenty-five years old now, and she’d been enjoying the success she’d earlier achieved for several years, now.

For having achieved her success so young, and for having been able to maintain it, she felt she was one of the best people in the world. So it only seemed right to her that there should be something external which implied this about her even to people who didn’t know her well enough to form that opinion of her themselves. Surely people who saw her jewelry thought it did make her seem like she was one of the more high-quality people in the world; surely they based all their evaluations of worth on assets and accrual of money, and in seeing her jewelry saw that she was in possession of many assets, and had clearly accrued vast sums of money which had enable her to take possession of her assets...

She looked past her ostentatious necklace then, looking to what she had worn beneath it.

Her polo-shirt was a rich blue color, and her jeans were a blue several shades lighter, so light they nicely complemented the color of her eyes. She approved of her outfit as a whole; because of her polo-shirt’s rich color, it matched the sapphires in her necklace perfectly.

Her attention lingered on her polo-shirt for a moment. Because of the massive size of her breasts, the polo-shirt looked as tight on her as the jeans did. Her breasts were straining through the material, looking like ridiculously-sized globes because of how tightly they were being encased. She did look good in this shirt, if a little distracting.

She looked good in her jeans too, though. She turned to look back over her shoulder at her reflection, and saw the way her jeans were hugging the parts of her body that they rested against.

This pair of jeans were high-waisted, though Victoria had pairs that had more medium-waisted and lower-waisted jeans too. So the waist of these were partly hidden under the hem of her polo-shirt. She moved a hand to the hem of her shirt, and pulled it up, until she saw where her the waistband of her jeans was right against her waist. Her waist was fairly narrow; she turned to face herself directly in the mirror, and the sight of her jeans dipping in at her waist and then widening back out was striking. Her waist was narrow, but her hips were quite wide, so that was what her jeans did. They dipped at her waist and then stretched to fit snugly around her hips. They stayed stretched snug even past her hips, because her thighs were quite thick, and her jeans had to fit past them, too.

She let the hem of her shirt fall again, but still faced herself in the mirror head-on. The striking contrast of wideness near narrowness was at play even when she considered her upper-body. Because of how much her breasts rounded out at the sides, her body did look wide at her torso... then still dipped narrow at her waist... and widened again at her hips... if her torso had looked narrow right to her waist, she would have looked more bottom-heavy, but because her breasts were substantial enough that they balanced out her lower-half, and gave her appearance a very visually-balanced look.

She turned, and as she considered her body in profile, looked at the way her jeans fit against her from this angle. They were snug at her hips, and around her thighs, but the place they strained hardest was where they struggled to stretch over her ass. Her ass was massive in almost the same way her breasts were; was made up of two huge globes that strained through the fabric, but the material of her jeans was less forgiving than the material of her polo-shirt, so if possible it was being hugged even more tightly than her breasts were.

She turned to face herself one last time, and briefly considered her reflection as a whole. In looking at herself this way now, she was struck by her height. At five foot nine, she was tall enough that she almost went so far that the mirror couldn’t capture her reflection entirely. If she had been two or three inches taller, the mirror would have cut off part of the upper-half of her face. But because she was shy of that, it did capture her in her entirety... though the top of her head was at the furthest edge of her reflection, rendering it obvious that her image was only just able to fit.

With one last glance over herself, Victoria concluded that she looked more than presentable in this moment; she looked downright beautiful. She’d be very pleasing for her wife to look at, if she went home looking the way she did right now... and she did enjoy being eye-candy for her wife to take in. Enjoyed providing her wife such an easy and frivolous experience of enjoyment.

If she went home... the key word there was ‘if,’ wasn’t it? She’d been thinking, a little earlier, as if it were certain that she was going to go home next. And she did love her wife and it would be nice to see her, would be pleasant to spend some time with her. But there were plenty of times that Victoria left work and did not immediately return home to her wife.

Victoria did her wife the courtesy of not becoming involved in any months or years long affairs, but Victoria did not spare Lexi the indignity of being married to someone who engaged in constant indiscretions. One-off indiscretions that left no legacies, but there were always more of them to come. Victoria was at least careful enough that she never engaged in any indiscretions with anyone that she worked with, but she didn’t keep her extramarital activities completely separate from work. She had on occasion been known to pick a woman up during the day’s lunch-break and to lead her back to the office to fuck her there. When Victoria had had her office redesigned ahead of moving into it, she’d ordered it soundproofed, foreseeing that exact eventuality, and it had served her well numerous times.

But Victoria didn’t only fuck her women of the day in her office. Sometimes, when she left early ahead of a weekend, she went to a bar of her choice and hung around there for a few hours. Then if she met a woman there she found appealing, she went neither to her office or back to her home, but to a hotel with that woman in tow. And today might end the way other Fridays had, with her meeting a woman of interest and ending up in a hotel with her.

If the night did go that way, then Victoria would be as well-dressed for that eventuality as she would be if she went home for only her wife to see. Either way, she would look like eye-candy, and would provide any interested woman who looked at her with a view to enjoy; it only remained to be seen whether the interested woman who later considered her would be her wife or whether she would be a stranger.

If she did go into a bar, she’d go into a bar without removing her necklace. She was so important and special she was confident nothing bad would happen to her; firmly believed there was no chance any of her jewelry could ever be stolen off of her body. Things like that didn’t happen to her. And besides, she’d worn different expensive pieces of jewelry into bars on many of the other occasions that she’d gone looking for strangers to seduce. Nothing bad had ever happened any of these times, so of course nothing bad would happen this time either.

The more she thought about it, the more going to a bar instead of going home... did sound good to her. She had almost made up her mind to leave for a bar, when she heard the sound of her office-door opening behind her.

She turned from the mirror to see her secretary entering. The woman had only been working for several months’ time, and she was someone Victoria considered to be beneath her, so her name wasn’t coming to mind easily. Had it been something like... Olive? Or maybe Silvia? Olive, Silvia... it was something like that, but it wasn’t important.

She didn’t understand why her secretary was entering, though. Now that she was actually in Victoria’s office, she had pulled the door shut behind her. She didn’t pause where she was to stand there, but kept striving forward, eventually arriving to stand directly in front of Victoria.

Victoria was still surprised by her secretary’s unexpected introduction, and was still searching for the question she most wanted to ask first. She was still trying to decide between “what makes you think you can just come in here unannounced,” “what makes you think you have the right to demand my attention,” and “is there something important that I should know?” when her secretary reached past the collar of her blouse, seized hold of a chain there, and pulled it out of her shirt. This surprised Victoria even more, and distracted her from the questions she’d just been trying to choose between.

Once the chain was out of her secretary’s blouse, Victoria saw there was something at the end of it. It was a large, round metal disc; when the chain lay flat against her secretary’s chest (which was plenty flat itself), the disc rested just below the base of her secretary’s sternum. It was large enough that it was probably the width of her sternum, although it wasn’t resting directly over it and so it wasn’t possible to compare both things exactly.

For a moment, Victoria scrutinized the disc. It looked like an ornate old coin, something archaic and of no further use to the modern world, but the engravings on it were so intricate that Victoria couldn’t make out what they were supposed to be depicting.

Then she couldn’t make the engravings out anymore; the coin began emitting a teal glow from its center. That glow permeated it, radiated from it, and haloed around it. It did all things at once in what seemed to be a constant cycling of moving illumination. Such a deep blue-green color... how could the coin be producing it if it was just a coin? But it was so pretty she should be grateful that she’d been able to see it...

The glowing light was doing something to her mind. With every pulsation it gave off, she felt her thoughts tangling themselves up... and when they formed into tangles, she just left them behind her and moved on without them. The light was leading her downward, to somewhere submerged further down her body and her mind... the light seemed to know how to lead her there, seemed to know how to fix her consciousness to that central point. But once it was there, she felt so far... under everything... as if she had sunk deep beneath soil... or to a seafloor under so much water... she was under...

“I’ve done this to you, Victoria,” her secretary spoke to her. Victoria would have guessed that her secretary’s voice would seem far away and removed from her, the way everything else did now that she was so far beneath, but as it had turned out, this wasn’t the case. Her secretary’s voice was clear to Victoria; wasn’t removed from Victoria at all, it was close to her, as if it had somehow come down to where she was, come underneath with her. If she was underwater than it was like it had formed a huge bubble around her, and she was in the center of that bubble. And if it had formed a bubble, maybe it had formed an air-bubble... it was the thing making it possible for her to breathe under here, it was the thing holding her safe, she must depend completely on it... the bubble... her secretary’s voice... the bubble...

“You’ve fallen under my medallion’s hypnotic power,” her secretary said, “and I shoved you and made you fall. The medallion’s hypnotic power is really only an extension of my hypnotic power... my medallion is only an extension of me. And now I have deeply entranced you.”

Every thing her secretary said was one more thing Victoria found herself clinging to... one more thing to depend on, one more thing which was taking care of her and protecting her life... she was under... not under water or soil but... under trance... she’d been given the terminology for what was happening to her.

“You are deep under my hypnotic power,” her secretary went on. “You want to acknowledge that to yourself.”

I am deep under her hypnotic power, she acknowledged to herself inside. Just in thinking it, she found herself descending lower.

“You want to acknowledge that out-loud.” Her secretary seemed to have caught the mistake she had made.

“I am deep under your hypnotic power,” Victoria provided immediately.

“Good,” her secretary said. “That’s just where I want you to be. And in just a few minutes, you’ll be grateful to I’ve said this to you, and would be thrilled to hear me say it again.”

Maybe her secretary predicting this, while Victoria was listening so closely and absorbing everything she said, meant that it really would happen, but Victoria didn’t care either way. It was peaceful to be in this state, and she was enjoying it. As long as she was in the same state, she would still be enjoying herself, so anything that happened would be fine with her.

She kept silent though, and waited to see what would happen next.

“For now though, we can get on with things. Why don’t you go sit in the chair behind your desk? We’re going to be here for a while.”

It had been phrased like an invitation, but Victoria heard only instruction in it. Promptly, she turned and walked from where she’d been standing close to her mirror, and once she’d ed behind her desk, she sat down in her chair.

Once she was sitting, she realized her secretary had come to stand to the right side of her. It was intuitive for Victoria just to swivel her chair completely to the side so she was facing her secretary directly.

The medallion was still glowing; Victoria’s eyes got lost in the glow for a moment. She stared so far into it.. but she could just discern the shape of her secretary through it...

It seemed as though the other woman had tapped the medallion; the glow dimmed a bit so she was more fully visible and less obscure. The glow was still there, though.

Victoria was looking at her secretary’s face; her secretary had let her hair loose, but was already pulling it back up into a ponytail. It was up now, and the hair-tie was going back around it.

“My hair is up. You see that I’m Olivia Walker.” Olivia, right, that was her name. Both ‘Olive’ and ‘Silvia’ had been close... “You see that I’m Olivia Walker, your secretary that you trust completely and whose every action is infallible. That’s all I am to you, I’m not anything else.”

She looked at Olivia for a moment longer, and the image seemed to sear itself into her mind. Olivia, with her hair in a ponytail... Olivia with her hair in a ponytail was Olivia Victoria’s secretary, and Victoria trusted her completely! Nothing Olivia her secretary could do would ever be wrong, it would always only be right!

Olivia pulled her hair out of the hair-tie, and it was loose again.

“My hair is down,” Olivia said once it was. “You see that I’m your Mistress, the one who owns you fully and completely; your Mistress that you feel complete devotion for, whose every command is irresistible. That’s all I am to you, I’m not anything else.”

The image seared into her brain. Mistress with her hair down was Mistress, Victoria’s owner, and Victoria was devoted to her completely! No command Mistress could ever give her would be possible to resist; it would always only be ir-resistible!

Olivia’s hair was in a ponytail. That was her secretary, Olivia! She was so, so trustworthy.

Olivia turned back and forth a little in place, preening a bit. “Do I look familiar to you? Do I look anything like your Mistress?”

Victoria frowned, but she couldn’t see it. “Of course not! You’re Olivia.”

“But don’t I have all the same facial features as your Mistress?”

Victoria’s frown deepened. She squinted. “You... do... but... you’re... her twin-sister, and that’s why you have the same face as her!”

Mistress’ hair was down. That was her beloved owner, Mistress! She was so, so deserving of devotion.

“What do you think, Victoria? Do I look anything like your secretary?”

Her mind turned the idea over briefly, but it was like it just couldn’t find purchase in it, just slid off of it. Couldn’t entertain that or face it, let alone believe it. She’d come up with every other explanation possible and believe them before she ever believed what Mistress had just insinuated.

“Of course not! You’re my Mistress!”

“But isn’t my face exactly the same as Olivia’s?”

“It is, Mistress. But Olivia must be your slave too... you must have taken control of her, and forced her to submit to plastic surgery that you paid for. I understand why you would have wanted her to wear your face... I think my face is one of the best faces in the world, I’d make others wear it too if I could... not you, but others who were beneath me... you took control of Olivia and made her look like you and you used her to get to me... you’re so powerful... you’re just so powerful...”

Mistress smiled at her. “What your mind was just taught to do is cementing itself inside you. You don’t need to what it knows how to do, it will do its task for you automatically without your involvement. You’ve forgotten learning what I showed your mind how to do, but your mind will how...”

Victoria had no idea what they had been doing for the past few minutes; she found that didn’t bother her.

“From this moment forward though, you’ll feel very alert. You’re deep under my hypnotic power, but very alert; you’re ing everything that’s happening and you’ll continue to. I want you to feel what it’s like to submit yourself to me, and I want you to know that you’re doing it.”

That was Mistress’ desire; Victoria found herself already contorting to conform to it. She felt what it was like to submit to her Mistress, and she knew that she was doing it.

Mistress placed her hands on her small hips. “You think you’re so much better than everyone else, don’t you, Victoria? You said you’d make other people wear your face if you considered them beneath you; because you’re just that full of yourself. But since you’re so above everyone else, better than the entire rest of the world, what does it mean if somebody has conquered you?”

That did confuse her mind. She was better than everyone, superior to everyone, the best... but that should mean... nobody could conquer her... but Mistress had conquered her... so what did that mean? She needed Mistress to tell her what that meant.

“You may be superior to everyone else, but you already itted you’re not superior to me. You’d make anyone beneath you wear your face, but you wouldn’t make me do that, because you know that my face is better than yours and it would be a travesty if it was reshaped to look like something lesser. You’re superior to everyone else, but I’m superior to you, because I’ve conquered you.”

Her own understanding had already been unfolding in that direction, but that had just clarified everything for her. Mistress had defeated her, claimed ownership over her, conquered her... and only someone more superior could do that to someone less superior. Mistress was superior to her.

“Do you think anyone could ever conquer me?”

Victoria was aghast. “No, that could never happen, Mistress!”

“Because someone truly superior could never actually be conquered. You were wrong to think of yourself as superior all this time; if you’d really been right in your assessment, you never would have fallen under my control. All this time, you’ve never really been superior. I’m superior, and you’re inferior.”

That sounded so right to Victoria, and so true.

“Acknowledge it to yourself, and then aloud, for me to hear.”

Mistress is superior, and I am inferior. As soon as the thought had ed, she found herself already speaking. “You’re superior, and I am inferior.” Once she had finished speaking it, she felt that it was very true.

“You from when you used to be misguided though; you from when you thought this applied to you, but people who are superior deserve to be given everything they want.”

Yes. Victoria did that.

“And if you’re in the position to give a superior being like me what I want, that makes you lucky.”

That made sense to her mind, too.

“You know that it’s right to give me everything I want. And that’s why, when I give you an order, you find it comforting. The experience of being ordered around, by me, is a soothing experience. It’s also a pleasurable experience; so pleasurable that you might ache in the moment of experiencing that pleasure, but you’ll understand that I want you to ache that way, and that will just make the ache seem sweet, to you. It will ache, but ache in a way that soothes. You want me to give you that kind of soothing ache. You’ve been waiting for that a long time without understanding you were doing that; everything else is so hard and confusing, but when you receive that soothing ache, when the confusion of having to decide for yourself what your next action should be es, and all that’s left is the clarity of understanding my desires... you ache in pleasure, and that discomfort soothes you.”

It had already become true.

“I’m going to take every single thing you have, Victoria, and leave you thanking me for doing it. That’s my desire. And you’re going to accept this desire I have.”

That had been an order; there was pleasure inside Victoria’s body at hearing. It was such a piercing pleasure, though, that her back arched as she sat. And the pleasure was so intense, concentrated it had left her aching, aching in her stomach and aching in lower-back. As if she had just been fucked thoroughly to the point of soreness... and she had been... but only by Mistress’ order.

What Mistress had said was horrible, though. She was going to take everything Victoria had? What, all her wealth, the company she ran, her marriage just to destroy it— everything?

That made something in her half-wake; no, she wouldn’t accept this. Mistress had told her to accept this desire of hers, but Victoria could never accept it, never would.

But Mistress’ commands were irresistible to her. That had been fixed in place inside of her somewhere... she felt herself accepting Mistress’ desire...

And then she realized the act of accepting it was another order she had followed. A burst of pleasure exploded inside her. If there had been any hope of resisting before (there probably hadn’t been...), there definitely wasn’t now. How could she try to refuse such aching pleasure, such soothing aching pleasure, why would she ever try to avoid it? She didn’t have the strength to avoid it, she needed more of Mistress’ pleasure...

“You’ll take everything I have,” she said, so Mistress could see she had accepted the desire. “And I’ll only be thankful you’ve done it.”

“Watch my body,” Mistress told her immediately. “You can’t do anything but stare at it. You can’t look away. You just have to watch it.”

She stared; in staring, she had followed another command... and a new pang of pleasure ached its way through her.

“Now masturbate as you watch and stare at my body.”

Oh, Mistress had given her permission to touch herself! She would be allowed to touch herself, just because Mistress had been merciful and would allow her.

Victoria’s hand sought her pussy immediately, unbuttoning her jeans, and unzipping them. She rolled her underwear down, and sat with her thighs apart; she wanted complete access. Once she was ideally positioned, her hand found her pussy and began stroking through wetness there. The pleasure of obeying the commands Mistress had already given her had ensured there was plenty of wetness there for her hand to find.

She didn’t know then if she was finding the sight of Mistress erotic by association, just because her own hand was pleasuring her... or if she would have found the sight of Mistress inherently erotic if she’d just been looking at her without touching herself. Maybe if she spent enough time looking at her like this then she’d be able to experience pleasure like this just from the sight of Mistress alone...

The image of Mistress standing there, wearing her clothes, was... good... it was an image of Mistress. But soon Mistress bettered it. She undid and removed her blouse, then unzipped her skirt at the side and pulled it down; then unclasped her bra, letting it fall before shoving her underwear down enough that she could step out of them. Mistress was naked. There was lots to see at once, but the total image was even better than the image she’d been viewing before. Her clothed Mistress was beautiful because she was her Mistress, but her naked Mistress... doubly beautiful!

“You can’t help yourself now, can you?” Mistress snickered at her. “Your mind can’t stop itself from adoring the sight of me. You can’t feel anything toward me but adoration now. Adoration, and lust. That’s all you feel, all you’re feeling now... you thought you were so important before, and now you’re only this...”

To Victoria, everything Mistress had just said had been new truths Victoria was meant to absorb. She absorbed them all. Some of them felt very right to her... she’d already been confused about where her lust was coming from, if it was coming from Mistress’ image or from masturbating, but now Mistress had made everything clear for her. She looked at Mistress and felt adoration in her heart, felt lust in her pussy, a dual response... the lust in her pussy had flooded it more, and there was further wetness against the hand she was still stroking herself with.

“You’re going to keep obeying my commands,” Mistress told her. “Every time you obey, you know there will be more pleasure, because you know that’s what always happens.”

What Mistress said next, she said with great seriousness, as if she intended for these words to root deeply into Victoria’s thoughts as further new beliefs. “Obeying means receiving pleasure.”

Obeying meant receiving pleasure. The words had rooted themselves into Victoria’s thoughts; were already things she did believe. Obeying meant receiving pleasure.

“Eyes on my breasts now,” Mistress said then, and so Victoria’s eyes immediately went to them.

They were of a decent size, and if Victoria had been ing Mistress on the street and just glancing at her, they wouldn’t have made much of an impression on Victoria. But a few things were happening at once, and transforming this experience for Victoria. First, Mistress had given her permission to masturbate, and even now her fingers were still teasing through her own wetness, skimming along sensitive spots and setting off sparks of pleasure inside of her pussy.

If that had been all that was going on right now, Victoria’s hand traveling back and forth along her slit and then circling up around her clit, then there would have been something sexually-charged to seeing Mistress’ breasts anyway; at least on the most basic level. On the most basic level, Mistress was naked, and Victoria was attracted to women; so just seeing any naked woman’s body would have gotten at least a few flickers of heat going inside of her.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was happening. Her mind understood Mistress as her Mistress... if she’d seen Mistress on the street, she would have dismissed Mistress’ breasts as not worth viewing. But Mistress’ position over her made Victoria forgive that physical-failing. She appreciated Mistress’ breasts because they were hers; that forgiving and looking-past was happening. Just happening, and all Mistress had done was tell Victoria once that she’d always feel adoration and lust at the sight of her Mistress! And Mistress had only needed to tell her after that to look at some part of her; she’d known Victoria’s mind would fill in the rest, and have the experience she wanted it to have.

And Victoria’s mind still filled in the rest, she was having exactly the experience Mistress wanted her to have, and she was thinking thoughts Mistress would have approved of completely. Her mind was just providing them to her... so obediently... she felt her pussy spasm...

Mistress’ breasts are HERS, and so, they’re beautiful... I’d worship them at any size as long as they belonged to her. I just want to touch them, touch any part of her, touch HER. She gave me permission to touch myself please PLEASE let her give me permission to touch her. I want the experience of holding her breasts in my grasp, I want to touch, they’re good breasts because they’re hers, she’s the most special person, she’s a superior specimen, a superior being, and that makes her breasts good, good just because they’re hers... her breasts are my favorite breasts, because they’re hers. I even like them better than my wife’s breasts... I just want to touch, and touching wouldn’t even be the best thing... getting to suck her nipples would be even better, or even just getting to lick them... I would be so lucky if I could just lick and suck her nipples, so lucky if I could just nibble across her breasts in every which direction. I want to have with every part of them, I want every part of them to be under my mouth, in my mouth... nothing would be better than that, that would be the best thing... they’re hers...

There were responses missing from her, though, and she couldn’t bring herself to find that strange. She’d seen other breasts before, and there was a specific pair of them she’d always thought of as her favorites. Before this she’d been sure her wife’s breasts were her favorites... she should think her wife’s breasts were her favorites. The fact that she didn’t was a betrayal of her wife.

Why should she balk at betraying her wife in this way, though, when she’d never balked at betraying her wife in any other way? She’d never balked at sleeping with another woman and committing infidelity; so why should her own mind consider this to be an unforgivable betrayal? All associated emotions of guilt were missing and yet her mind was still viewing this as a great betrayal.

Maybe it was precisely because she’d cheated on her wife so many times that this was striking her as a betrayal. She’d slept with other women for the thrill of it, but she’d compared every woman’s body she’d seen to her wife’s and reasserted every time that she’d still liked her wife’s body best. She couldn’t give her wife fidelity, but she could declare Lexi as her favorite above all others, and somehow that had seemed important.

Maybe that had only been her mind coming up with self-justifications on her behalf, maybe that had only been self-deception, but it had seemed important. Her wife had still been best in her heart, best in all ways, in of personality and looks, and she’d told herself that counted for something, even as she’d been sleeping with other women. They could have her body for a night, but they could never have pride of place in her heart. Only her wife could have that; that was the only kind of fidelity she’d ever been able to offer her.

In viewing Mistress’ body as better than her wife’s, though, it was like she was taking her wife out of her rightful place and replacing her with Mistress. So that did seem like a worse betrayal to Victoria; she had never done that any time she’d ever cheated, but she was doing it now. That was worse.

Yet there were other thoughts in her head already; preferring another woman’s breasts to her wife’s breasts was the only betrayal against her wife which was happening here. It wasn’t a betrayal to be in the presence of a naked woman who she wasn’t married to, it wasn’t a betrayal to be sexually stimulating herself as she looked at that woman... all the groundwork had been laid for this already every time she’d ever taken her infidelity lightly and told herself that it didn’t really matter, that it didn’t really count, that other things canceled it out...

This was wrong, though. Her mind tried to believe that again. This was wrong; in allowing herself to share intimacy with Mistress, such as it was, she was doing something else she’d never done. She had never let herself get involved in any long-term entanglements, she’d only allowed herself one-offs... but in developing the kinds of feelings she was developing now, as she went on studying Mistress with her eyes, as she went on touching herself... she was developing the kind of deep feelings she’d always avoided. Developing deep feelings which would be conducive to a long-term entanglement, of the type she’d always tried to avoid...

She’d never wanted to get mixed up in anything that could eventually eclipse her marriage, overthrow it... but even though whatever this was was only beginning, she knew this was exactly the kind of thing which might eventually eclipse her marriage and overthrow it. She’d always asserted that boundary with herself, had prevented these kinds of situations from starting, had stopped herself from becoming sentimental with any of the women she cheated with...

But she was now crossing that boundary she’d set for herself. This might be a long-term entanglement, it might eclipse and overthrow her marriage, she might become sentimental about Mistress... it felt like she already was... feeling adoration in her heart for her struck Victoria as very sentimental... and yet Victoria was just allowing all of this to happen.

Her mind couldn’t hold on to the idea of anything about this being wrong, not while the pleasure she was stirring in her own body kept coaxing her; her mind slipped off that idea of wrongness, and fell to spewing more rambling praise.

Mistress was Mistress, and giving Mistress the response she was owed was always the right thing to do. It would never be morally wrong to treat Mistress like she was special, worthy of having all rules broken for her, including any rules of marital exclusivity... including any boundaries Victoria had ever set for herself... including any arbitrary metrics of fidelity which considered things other than cheating... all of that was perfectly fine. The only betrayal happening here was her preference for Mistress’ breasts... her mind really already believed that. And there was no sense of alarm to be found anywhere within her. It was completely normal for her to believe this. No part of her mind wanted to question it, no part of her mind wanted to argue against it.

But even though she could view her preference for Mistress’ breasts as a betrayal of her wife (and maybe one day she wouldn’t even be able to do that anymore, and if so, that would be fine...), she still couldn’t summon any sense of guilt over it. She just accepted that it was the right response for her to be having... and again, the fact that that response of guilt was missing from within her... didn’t strike her as strange or troubling.

She was forgetting everything she’d just been thinking about. She was still staring intently at Mistress’ breasts, and her hand was still traveling. She seemed to be getting wetter and wetter... because the longer she went on stroking, the more she understood that she was currently obeying. Each time her fingertips ed over her clit again, the sparks of pleasure which resulted were even more intense than they had been the last time.

She was touching herself, and her body was so responsive to her every touch, but it wasn’t only this responsive because she’d been allowed to look at some part of Mistress’ body (in this case her breasts). Mistress’ breasts were Victoria’s favorite breasts in the world, and she would always want to look at them. She wanted to look at them for as long as Mistress would allow her to look at them. They were beautiful and good and hers, hers, and the only thing better than looking at them would be touching them. She didn’t care if she’d ever thought anything like that before... that was just truth, so why shouldn’t she think things that were true? Why shouldn’t true things keep coming back to her again and again? They’d still be true every time they returned, so they might as well come back...

But that wasn’t the only thing making this so erotic. It was doubly erotic because Mistress had told Victoria to look at her breasts... and every second Victoria spent looking at them meant that Victoria was obeying... and then pleasure happened in her because of that.

There was so much pleasure stacking on top of other pleasure; it was almost too much. She looked at Mistress because she’d been told to, and in obeying, experienced pleasure. But since she was looking, then she saw, and seeing Mistress always sparked her lust, so there was a second helping of pleasure over the first. And all the time her hand still traveled... so there was a third helping over the second... so much... she only knew she was on fire with ecstasy... she couldn’t distinguish which prompt had prompted her pleasure at any given moment. Impossible to tell what came from obeying, what came from the sight of Mistress, and what came from the movement of her own hand. There was just so much ecstasy...

“Eyes on my lips now,” Mistress directed, interrupting Victoria’s thoughts. But Mistress had directed her, so Victoria sent her attention where it had been directed. And then there was more pleasure, because she’d just obeyed...

And then, though the memory she was comparing against was hazy, she was still left with the feeling that she was having a response similar to the one she’d had when asked to look at Mistress’ breasts. In seeing Mistress’ lips, she knew she wasn’t looking at a perfect pair of lips, only at a good pair of them... but that they were made special, made her favorite. Because of who they belonged to, these were lips she preferred over all others. She was having this response because these lips were a part of Mistress’ body... that glow of goodness got bestowed on everything, every part of Mistress... her body and all its parts were special, because she was...

She was looking at Mistress’ lips, and she was finding it erotic to look at Mistress’ lips... pleasure from the sight of her again...

She was looking at Mistress’ lips, and feeling her own hand teasing down her slit and then up around her clit... but she found herself thinking of her wife again. None of the one-off encounters she’d ever had had been anything like this, so the history she’d shared with her wife was the only other point of comparison she had.

This was so different than it had been when Victoria had fallen in love with her wife... she’d used to sit in her wife’s company for hours, but when she had, she had chosen all the qualities she’d wanted to fixate on, herself. She’d looked into her wife’s eyes a long time because that had been her own idea... or looked at her wife’s lips a long time because that had been her own idea... or looked at any other feature of her wife’s for a long time... all just voluntarily. And so sentimentally.

This was sentimental, the kind of sentimentality she’d tried to keep reserved for only her wife (she was still crossing that boundary, going further beyond it, leaving it far behind her...). But she wasn’t doing this voluntarily... she was doing this obediently, but not voluntarily... she was being told where to look... when to look, and for how long. Yet she didn’t feel resentful... that response of resentment was missing in her, in the same way that she’d thought her emotions of guilt might have been missing in her, before.

Mistress kept directing her eyes, and she kept obeying. She looked from Mistress’ lips to her eyes, to her hair, to her waist, to her hips... and Mistress turned to the side so Victoria could look at her ass...

Victoria was basically having to fall in love with each one of Mistress’ features after the other... every time Mistress told her to look to the next feature, Victoria just obeyed, and then there was more pleasure, more intensified arousal... her hand stroking through slicker and slicker slickness...

There was nothing she could do about any of it... she was being forced to enamor herself of all Mistress’ attributes... but that only seemed correct to Victoria’s mind. Mistress was special, superior; each one of Mistress’ features deserved to be adored in their own right, should be fallen in love with individually. That was right, Mistress was just owed that. She was special.

Mistress kept the cycle going, making her look from the next feature to the next. She was seeing things now that she’d seen many times; she’d lost count of how many times the cycle had played out. Her arousal was the most intense it had ever been; she felt she was about to orgasm, but it was as if she was perpetually about to orgasm. She would be stuck in this state unless Mistress gave her permission to orgasm; she understood that even without needing Mistress to confirm it for her. She’d only been allowed to touch herself because Mistress had given her permission... it only made sense that she wouldn’t be allowed to orgasm unless she was given permission to do that, too.

She got lost in following the cycle again... looking where she was directed, receiving more pleasure from obeying... she drifted along in that haze. She thought she would drift through it forever.

But she didn’t. She heard Mistress telling her, “stop,” and her focus immediately returned.

Her hand had already stilled, as if her body had obeyed before her mind could catch up to it.

She felt something in the hand she hadn’t been touching herself with. Mistress must have repositioned it while Victoria had still been drifting, and her body had just complied... every part of her always ready to obey.

Her phone was the thing that was in her hand. Her banking-app was open and she was currently logged in to her bank-. Mistress must have told her to do this too... she’d done it without even realizing.

She’d opened the page for starting a new transfer; all the information was already filled out. She didn’t recognize the bank- it was routed to go too... it must be Mistress’ bank-... the amount she was supposed to be sending in this transfer was... $50,000?

No, that was too much! She was a high-level bank-customer at her bank, so that amount was still well below her daily transaction limit; it would technically be possible for her to send that amount of money, and it would barely make a dent in her overall wealth, but that was still too much!

The transfer was sitting open, waiting to be sent, though... and this was... Mistress’ desire. Just by so-positioning her, Mistress had tacitly commanded her. And all of Mistress’ commands were irresistible.

Mistress didn’t want to command her explicitly... she wanted her to send the money obediently...

But $50,000— she couldn’t! She tried to drum up some capacity for resistance inside... but... she needed more of Mistress’ pleasure. She was weak and pathetic and needed more... if she obeyed, she would receive more... she needed more...

Her thumb tapped ‘send.’

At some point, Mistress had retrieved her own phone. She was looking at it now, and she smiled as it announced a new notification to her.

She looked up at Victoria, still smiling. “Cum,” she told her.

Victoria was seized by ecstasy, the orgasm she’d been denied earlier coursing through her. Some number of minutes later she was still being wracked by it. Mistress kept her in the experience, and that was perfect too. Mistress would release her from the ecstasy when she thought it was time; until then, this ecstasy would be perfect to Victoria.

It was perfect to Victoria, because it was exactly what Mistress wanted for her.