Author’s Note: These femdom mind control stories were originally published under the pen name ‘Alyx Mesmer’. All of these stories contain femdom themes including bondage, mind control, foot worship and similar kinks. They’re all M/F stories.

Arecibo

Bill sat at his desk and set his coffee down on the coaster beside his keyboard. It was emblazoned with a cute astronaut sitting on a rocket that was zipping off to the stars. Bill had come to hate that little spaceman, because for the past 11 years all he had done was monitor space from the ground. No trips to the International Space Station, no manned missions, no hope of achieving his childhood dream of travelling beyond the bounds of Earth. His job was much less interesting. He sat at a desk, observing the scans of a long-range radio array. It had been interesting at first, as little bursts of information from far-distant events were discovered, but those were barely more than flashes of light in the darkness, nothing new or exciting. Now he was bored, terminally so.

He sipped at his coffee. It was black and strong and bitter. He hated the coffee at work. As one of the few night shift workers though, he had little say in what products lined the cupboards of the kitchen. So he drank his bitter coffee and did his work bitterly, wishing to be high among the stars.

An hour passed without event and Bill had finished his mug of disappointment quite some time before. He was about to get up and make another when something flashed on the screen. Something big. It had to be a mistake. The usual tiny bursts of radio waves were more frequent, more consistent. This was akin to a message being transmitted, which made precious little sense. He grabbed a pair of headphones and brushed dust from them, then put them on and plugged them in. Loading up the sine wave of the signal in a playback program he listened expecting to hear some sort of interference from a bird in the array or a satellite on an inconvenient orbit. What he heard was none of those things.

The signal was a thrumming, throbbing sound. Low pulses with a sharper, more insistent whine over it. Bill put his hand on the earpieces of his headphones and tried to make out more of it. There was something else there, buried in the pulsing, pumping sound, but almost inaudible. For a brief, fascinating moment, he thought a word was spoken, but there was no way. No, he was surely hearing interference. Regardless, he kept listening. The sound was pleasant in its own way, it made him feel quite content and that was something entirely absent in his life. He let it wash over him and a hint of pleasure ran through his body like an electrical surge. Then the sound stopped.

Disappointed, Bill removed his headphones and sighed. The recording was there, and he would report it to his bosses, but he had hoped the sound would go on longer than three… hours? Bill blinked multiple times at the computer clock. He had started the recording at 11:33pm, and it was now 2:41am. But the sound had only been there for a few moments. That made no sense. A glitch, surely, but the clock on his phone read the same. He must have zoned out and fallen asleep, but he had no memory of it happening. Bill wrote down his observations and finished his shift without any further event.

***

Bill arrived to work the next day energized, ready for his shift in a way he had not been in years. He had slept wonderfully and had delightfully vague but extremely pleasurable dreams about invisible women caressing his body in ways he had never experienced. He lay back and enjoyed the feelings until his alarm dragged him back to reality, yet he still felt good, great even. Bounding through the doors of the facility and into his quiet office in the basement where few people were seen during the day, let alone at night, he was looking forward to watching the skies and maybe, just maybe, finding that same signal once more. He had noted where it came from and fully intended to scan that area again.

It took thirty minutes to find it. The array had been turned by the day shift to observe an interesting star cluster in a faraway galaxy, and moving it back, realigning and recalibrating were all slow processes. The work seemed to speed by for Bill, and when he landed on the correct spot, he was pleased with himself. He actually smiled, knowing he had done a good job. It felt good.

The sound, however, was not there. So Bill waited. He sat at his desk, did not get up to make coffee or go to the bathroom or stretch his legs. He sat and he waited. It was the right thing to do, given the circumstances. He was brimming with excitement for the possibilities the signal offered. A new star, a black hole doing something unforeseen or best of all, it could mean intelligent life. Out there, out in the inky blackness of space and all its infinite pinpricks of light, someone was speaking to him, he just needed to understand.

It came through late into his shift. Clearer this time, with an obvious voice, though its words were not understandable. The sounds from the previous night were accompanied by a mumbling, a soft one that made Bill’s head feel a little dizzy. A strange and unexpected effect. He should at this point, be telling someone about what he had discovered, but the bigwigs would simply steal the credit by taking him from his position and taking over. No, he would hear the full signal himself, he could take as long as he needed to hear everything. To hear what the voice had to say. He knew that it was important.

Once again, it stopped, and again Bill looked at the clock and saw the time had jumped several hours ahead. Not only that, his trousers were open, and his hand was on his hard cock. He quickly buttoned himself up, making sure no-one had seen, but nobody visited his office anyway. Bill went home still hard, feeling incredible and massively aroused. He had more erotic dreams, this time a voice whispered to him of beauty from beyond the heavens and pleasures and delights unparalleled. He woke up the next morning with a beaming smile.

***

Back at his desk, Bill was happy to see the day shift had left the array close to where he needed it. He made adjustments and began to scan. This time, the signal was extremely strong. He wondered if it was getting closer. A quick check indicated it was. The pulsing and thrumming flooded his senses, and he could feel his cock stir in his pants, twitching to the sound. Then the voice joined the interstellar message, clearly enough to hear words, though not everything.

Planet Tigrov

Pleasure

Free

Travel

Obey

Feel

Desires

The words seemed to repeat over and over like that, with more just outside audible range. Bill felt as though he were drowning in them, in the sounds. His mind was filled with imagery of erotic scenes. Men and women writhing against one another, naked and sweating in great orgies of pleasure. Bill’s hand gently rubbed his cock as he listened, and more images entered his mind. A tall woman with blue skin and long silver hair wearing a latex leotard walked through the orgy and everyone stopped to stare at her. Her eyes were deep black and little black freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. She wore thigh-high boots to match the leotard and every time she walked past someone they would fall to their knees and bow to her. She walked to one man, and it was as if she increased gravity beneath him. He crumbled at her feet, and she pointed the toe of her boot at him. He kissed it eagerly.

Bill rubbed himself harder and faster, lost in the fantasy conjured by the message in his ears. All sense of time or shame or work gone, he let the fantasy of this powerful alien woman with blue skin work its way deeper into his mind, into his very soul. Once again, the signal disappeared, and Bill found himself several hours in the future with a hard cock and a damp stain on his trousers. He felt incredible, as though he had found purpose in tracking this signal from deep space. It was so important he hear more, decipher everything, and understand what it was he was hearing, what message could travel across the galaxy and trigger the pleasure centres of the brain with such efficacy.

***

The fourth day of tracking the signal was quiet. Bill was disappointed. He had arrived for work early, cheerfully greeting his colleagues on the upper floors. Some of them smiled back, some noticed the bulge in his trousers and wondered if Bill was finally losing his mind. Down in his office he had aimed the array and set up the equipment and nothing. No signal, no voice, just empty, silent space. It was disheartening because he had been so eager, so excited and focused on finding that signal again. It was crucial he find it; his life’s work was monitoring the outer reaches of the universe and finally, something was there. Something alive.

Again, he thought about discussing it with his bosses, but he pushed the idea from his mind. They were not worth sharing the information with. He was the one who would receive it first. He was the one who found it. That made him special, important. So he waited.

His patience, what little he had, was rewarded. The voice came through once more, clear and completely understandable this time. Bill was thrilled as its message began to repeat.

The Planet Tigrov claims this system as our own. Your world will join the many in service to us.

You will learn to pleasure us and serve us.

You will discover that being truly free means giving up your ego and submitting to our will.

Our travel has already begun and we will arrive in a matter of your days.

You will have no choice but to obey. You who hears this will spread the message to others.

To serve is happiness. Nothing makes you feel better. You belong to Planet Tigrov.

Submit to us and you will fulfil all your desires.

Bill took a moment to process the message. He felt the pleasure as he did before, but now a wave of anxiety joined it. Alien invaders, coming to Earth. He rubbed his cock through his trousers. They had chosen him to spread their message. Bill felt proud of that and his cock stiffened. That, he thought, was strange. He tried to consider the message, think of it scientifically. What would submitting to them mean? What would it feel like? What desires would they fulfil?

He opened his trousers and pulled out his cock, stroking it slowly as the message repeated. Bill wondered if he should try to resist, to ignore the words barraging his mind and somehow making his hand stroke up and down his cock, making him feel as though he could explode at any moment. He had to resist it, didn’t he? The fate of the world was at stake and if he could just stop touching himself maybe he could think of a way to stop them. He knew where they were coming from, he could even predict they would arrive in a week, based on the changing message. If he could just warn the world.

The message continued, but now more words flooded Bill’s mind, making him ever more aroused.

You who hears this are our herald. You already feel the pleasure of obedience to us. You will be our most honoured servant if you bend to our will. The pleasure will be all-consuming if you spread our message to your world, prepare them for our arrival and conquest. You know it is right to obey us. You feel it inside you. You will submit and serve us.

As the message played Bill’s mind was flooded with images of the blue woman with the silver hair. She was looking down at him as he jerked off on his knees, telling him what a good pet he was, how good it felt to obey and serve Planet Tigrov. All he could do was nod along with her every word as his hand moved up and down his hard cock. The fantasy was overwhelming. He could feel an intense desire to do whatever this woman told him, to be hers and simply surrender to the pleasure she thrust into his body. She was so beautiful, her blue skin glistened with sparkles and her silver hair sashayed as she moved her foot onto the top of Bill’s head and pushed him down to the ground beneath her.

The signal, suddenly, was interrupted. Something else overpowered it, something closer. A problem with the array or a passing aeroplane. Bill woke from the state he was in to find himself kneeling on the floor with his cock in his hand. He tore off the headphones and sat in his chair, shaking his head, and trying to regain his senses. The signal had done something to him, to his mind. He had to warn people, they needed to know what was coming for them. He had to spread the word.

Then the signal restarted. Bill tried to back away out of the room, but he could just about hear it, like a siren song calling him back. He put the headphones back on and listened, then started to stroke his cock again to visions of blue-skinned alien women. With his free hand he recorded a copy of the audio, whatever part of him still had will to resist wanted to share it and warn others. Or did he want to share it and enslave others? He was lost in pleasure, a haze of desire and fantasy and submission. Bill fell to his knees as the voice commanded him to, and he once again looked up at the alien woman who seemed to be the source of the voice, the Tigrovian Queen, and knew he would serve her for the rest of his life. She smiled, clicked her fingers and Bill had the most pleasurable orgasm of his life, erupting all over the office floor and collapsing into a heap with a smile on his face and a hand on his cock.

***

The next day, Bill was standing behind his boss, who put a pair of headphones on reluctantly.

“This better be worth it Bill,” he said.

“Oh yes sir,” Bill replied, “It’s the most important message you’ll ever hear.

Garden Goddess

Tim was lost.

He hadn’t expected the garden centre to be so big and after wandering through a greenhouse full of tomatoes and emerging into a maze of shrubbery, he had no clue where the exit was. Which, when he thought about it, made absolutely no sense at all, but on he went, trying to find his way out.

The sweet scent of plants and flowers followed him all the way, filling his nostrils with an aroma he found far more pleasant than expected. The usual garden centre scent was compost and weedkiller, but this one smelled of rose petals and something he couldn’t put his finger on.

It was certainly an impressive place. A few miles off the main road, isolated from any village or other habitation, which accounted for the sheer size of the place. It seemed to be acre after acre of carefully tended crops.

There was no shortage of staff either. As Tim walked through, no-one looked up from their task, they seemed fully engrossed in watering, planting, and tending. He wondered where the counter was, it had to be nearby. Even a place this large couldn’t completely upset his sense of direction.

And yet, here he was, lost.

He was yet to see another customer, just staff, all men dressed in green overalls. It took some more wandering through a plot of hydrangeas to find a shipping container with one side open, converted into a café of sorts. Inside it were a jumble of mismatched chairs and tables, and to one side a counter staffed by a young woman with a pixie cut, multiple piercings and tattoos up both her arms.

She was attractive, very attractive. Her eyes met Tim’s and he walked toward her, taking a moment to look down at her low-cut black top. She caught him and smirked. Tim’s face went red, but she kept smiling as he walked toward her.

“Um, hi there, I’m a little-“

“Lost?” she cut him off.

“Well, yes,” said Tim sheepishly.

“It’s easy to get lost here, don’t worry. I’m Rose, by the way, I run the place.”

“Oh, well, nice to meet you Rose, I’m Tim,” Tim said, “could you help me find the way out?”

Rose regarded Tim, still smirking. He was a reasonably fit looking man, late thirties. She nodded at him and tilted her head to one side, then bit her red-painted lip.

“Tim, you came in here for something, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he replied, “but for the life of me I don’t remember what.”

Vines covered in flowers hung over the container and counter and Tim found himself looking up at them and breathing in. The scent that hung over the place seemed to be coming from them.

“That’s alright Tim,” said Rose, her voice a gentle growl, “many come here and lose their way. I make sure they find what they want.”

“Oh, good,” said Tim, feeling a little light-headed, “then you can help me.”

“Yes Tim, but you should rest, you’ve walked quite a long way to get here. Take a seat.”

Rose gestured to the set of tables and chairs and Tim walked to a tall brown armchair and flopped into it. It was magnificently comfortable. She sat in a chair opposite him and crossed her legs, then leaned forward and put a hand on Tim’s thigh.

“You can really relax in these chairs, can’t you?”

Tim certainly could. He felt as though he were sinking into it and as he looked into Rose’s deep brown eyes, he felt himself smile contentedly.

“That’s right, just let yourself sink down into the chair and relax for me, it’s so nice to just relax. This peaceful place is perfect for switching off, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it is,” Tim said.

“Yes, of course it is, it’s the most relaxing place you can imagine. Surrounded by flowers and plants, no cars, no people for miles, just calm, you like it here, don’t you?”

“I do,” Tim said.

He was feeling so relaxed that he could scarcely think of leaving. He had wanted to find the exit, but Rose was captivating. The more he looked at her, the more beautiful he found her. Her face was soft, but her hands rough, with dirt under the fingernails. He wondered if she did much of the work herself, with so many men tending the plants.

“Rose, I was wondering-“

“No questions, Tim. Just sit with me, sit and let me tell you about this place, ok?”

“Yes, ok Rose,” he replied. That sounded fine, he didn’t feel like talking anyway.

“You see Tim, when I found this place, I discovered the soil has a special property, especially for men. It seems to have a way of influencing them. Do you feel it? The flowers themselves have this power too, they draw it from the Earth beneath our feet.”

Tim blinked. That was a… very strange statement. He had no idea how to react.

“What happens Tim, is that when a man comes here, he breathes it in, maybe he touches the ground as he inspects one of our blooms, and his mind starts to become malleable, soft and spongy, much like the soil itself.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Tim said.

“That’s alright Tim, you don’t need to, not really. You just need to look into my eyes, you find them beautiful, don’t you?”

Tim was unsure what to say. He certainly thought Rose was pretty, but this was a little more forward an advance than he was used to.

“You do. It’s alright Tim I can tell by how you stare.”

He blushed, feeling as though he were caught in some sordid act of lust.

“Tim, you’re feeling the effects now of the soil and the plants, you’re feeling yourself falling into a blissful, mindless state. You’re feeling me take you there, take you down deeper. You feel that, don’t you?”

He felt woozy, confused. For a moment, Tim wondered if he should leave, because this was a very, very odd situation.

“Just keep looking into my eyes Tim, keep staring at me. Let my beauty overpower you.”

She moved her hand up his thigh and began to paw at his crotch. Tim’s cock reacted, stiffening at her touch.

“Mmm I see you like this, why don’t you let me really relax you…”

Tim tried to shake off the drowsy feeling, but the arousal being mixed with it made that harder, made him harder. Rose’s eyes were intensely staring at him, they looked so big outlined by dark eyeliner and eyeshadow.

“Wait… I… what was that about soil?” he asked.

“Don’t think Tim, don’t you want a beautiful woman to touch you? I can make you feel so good, you know that. You can already feel it can’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he said. She was right, he felt amazing, so relaxed, slightly warm, thoroughly aroused. Tim looked down from Rose’s eyes at her body and felt a surging lust overtake his already pliable mind.

“I saw you peek at my chest earlier; do you want a better view?” she asked, pulling down the bottom of the plunging collar with her index finger while she kept rubbing at Tim’s crotch.

Tim couldn’t help himself, he stared at her cleavage with a slack jaw. She had pert, small breasts in a pink bra, and he noticed a few freckles dotted between them.

“That’s it Timmy, just stare at my body and stop worrying, you want this, you want me to touch you.”

He wanted it badly. Her hand was already working some magic on him through his trousers, the thought of his cock being freed, bouncing up as she clasped it between her fingers, it made him throb.

“Good boy, just open those trousers and let Rose take your cock in her hand.”

Warning bells were ringing in the back of his mind, what she said about the soil, was it true? It was all over her hands. She had rubbed it into his trousers already. If it had power, it shouldn’t get on his skin. She definitely mentioned skin.

“Now, Tim, you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

Rose was forceful and squeezed Tim’s cock as she spoke. He forgot what he had been thinking about and unzipped his trousers, then pulled his cock out from beneath his underpants. It sprang to attention and Rose’s eyes widened.

“Good slave,” she said as she took it in her hand, still showing off her cleavage with the other.

Tim’s eyes rolled back into his head as the pleasure of Rose’s touch overtook him. It was wonderful, soft and warm and the soil he had been so worried about was soon smeared all over his erect penis. His mind swam as he looked down at Rose again, at her eyes, her perfect brown eyes.

“Now you feel the full power of it, don’t you? You feel the utter bliss of it.”

He felt so good, nothing he had ever experienced before compared. It was like he was being stroked by a Goddess, truly magical.

“You’re going to need this again and again Timmy, so you’re going to do whatever I tell you to get it. Aren’t you?”

The feeling was so intense, he could hardly think of what Rose was saying, let alone resist it. His cock felt as though it would explode at any moment. Sweat rolled from his forehead and his mouth was dry. Still, he managed to utter, “yes.”

“Yes, Goddess,” Rose said. “That is how you will address me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Goddess,” Tim repeated, understanding that she truly was. A divine creature of the earth itself.

“You are my slave, my subject, mine to command. Following my orders means more pleasure, disobeying means none.”

“Yes Goddess.”

“You work for me now, here at my garden centre. You will work here forever. You will never want to escape because you need my touch, my hands, the soil.”

“Y-yes Goddess,” Tim muttered. He did need her. Desperately. He had never felt so much pleasure in his life and this woman, this Goddess, was perfection itself. Why would he ever leave?

The soil seemed to have vanished from his cock. Absorbed into his skin. He had a moment, a fleeting flash, of lucidity, and realised that he was being compelled into slave labour.

Then Rose smiled and spoke again. “Once you cum, you submit to your Goddess for all eternity, you will forever be in servitude to me. Do you agree?”

He needed to cum so badly, he would have agreed to anything she asked. “Yes Goddess, I agree.”

“Cum, slave.”

He came. His body bucking back and forth, his breath ragged and short as he spurted all over her hands and his lap. It was such a wonderful, amazing feeling. Like a thousand orgasms at once. Tim immediately wanted more and as Rose pulled her hand away, he opened his mouth to plead.

“No,” she said, knowing exactly what he wanted. Same thing every other man who visited had wanted. “You must work first. Behind me you’ll find a shed with overalls. Change into them and report to the greenhouse for instructions. If you’re a good slave, I might touch you again.”

“Yes Goddess.”

“Good slave. You belong to me now. Get to work.”

She stood up and Tim stumbled away, his cock still hard and hanging free. Another man was wandering through the garden centre. Rose smiled as she saw him. She waved and beckoned him over.

“Hi there, you look a little lost.”

The New Shoes

“Hey babe, what do you think of my new shoes,” Stephanie asked.

Brian nodded, “Yeah, nice.”

They were a simple pair of black pumps with a medium-height heel, not really tall, but not small either, and made of soft, matte leather. They certainly made Stephanie’s legs look good, and that was more his focus than the shoes as he let his eyes wander up her legs to the hem of her miniskirt. The taut muscles of her thighs were accentuated by the heels, as was her butt, all tense and tight.

“Hey buddy, eyes on the prize, you haven’t seen the best part. You knew I wanted one really special pair, right?”

He knew, she had talked about getting a pair of some fancy brand he’d forgotten the name of. He didn’t know what made them so special, they were just shoes, but it made Stephanie happy, so what was the harm?

“You got ‘em?”

“I got ‘em,” she giggled, turning around, and facing away from him. With a quick flick she raised one foot up so he could see the striking red sole of the shoe. As soon as she did, Brian’s mouth opened, hanging slack, and his eyes glazed over.

“You like them?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes Mistress,” Brian replied.

She dropped her foot to the ground and Brian closed his mouth and regained his senses as Stephanie turned to face him.

“What did you just say?”

“What did I just what?”

She leaned in close to him, “did you call me, Mistress?”

“I don’t think so,” Brian replied, “unless…”

“Unless what?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing, never mind. Nice shoes,” he said before walking away toward the door.

Stephanie rushed in front of him, blocking his path. “Hey now, that was a little weird, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“Nothing, Steph, you must have misheard.”

She smirked, “no way buddy, you’re being so cagey right now.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Brian said, brushing by her to go through the door of the living room and into the kitchen.

“Wait,” she said, sitting down on the couch and crossing her legs. Brian turned and saw the red sole zip through the air and hang there, as one leg sat on the other, bouncing gently. Again, his jaw became slack, and his eyes became glassy.

“Yes Mistress,” he said.

“Ok, what the hell. Brian, what’s going on?”

“Your red soles control me, Mistress.”

“They what?” she replied. “What are you talking about?”

“I must obey when I see red soles Mistress.”

Stephanie shook her head, her own mouth a little slack too. This was a side of Brian she had never seen before. A very strange side.

“Brian, why do you obey red soles?” she quizzed.

“Because Mistress hypnotized me, and I must obey.”

“Who is Mistress, Brian?”

“Mistress Melissa, Mistress,” he said, in what was one of the more confusing statements Stephanie had ever heard. Melissa she knew, however. That was Brian’s ex-fiancée and from their brief meetings and what Brian told her, an awful, manipulative person. It seemed she had left Brian with a strange reaction to red soles and Stephanie almost laughed at the notion. She looked at Brian, completely blank expression on his face, drool slipping from the side of his mouth, and realised it might just be real.

“Brian,” Stephanie said, “what exactly will you do when you see red soles?”

“Anything Mistress commands,” he said.

“Anything Mistress Melissa commands, or whoever is in the shoes?”

“Whoever is in the shoes, Mistress,” he replied.

Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up. Ideas flooded her mind, some of them amusing, some arousing and some downright cruel, which surprised her. She had never had such power over someone and after the flurry of thoughts subsided, she realised it must be a joke he was playing on her. So, she decided to test her theory. She lifted her foot, so the red sole pointed directly at Brian.

“Brian, come here and kneel at my feet.”

He twitched, as though he were trying not to move, his shoulder snapping forward and then his leg. Soon he was in full motion across the room and dropping down in front of Stephanie, looking up at her from his knees. “Yes, Mistress,” he blurted.

“Oh wow, ok, um… kiss my foot,” Stephanie said with a giggle.

“Yes, Mistress,” Brian repeated as he leaned in and kissed the sole of her shoe once, gently.

Stephanie’s eyes widened. She was starting to believe this was real, but she needed to be sure. “Brian, get up, go to the kitchen and get me a glass of wine, then come back and give it to me while you kneel.”

“Yes Mistress,” he droned.

Brian got up from his knees, walked into the kitchen and found a bottle of red. He grabbed a bottle opener and popped the cork, then poured some into a wine glass. Stephanie watched from the living room, slowly shaking her head. It was not that Brian never poured her wine or did things if she asked, it was the near-silent compliance. He was robotic, usually he would chat to her as he poured drinks or cooked. Now, seeing him pour her wine more like a butler or servant than a husband, she could only imagine what Melissa would have done to him. She probably had the poor man buying her expensive gifts or pampering her every minute of the day or worse. The thought of it, of taking advantage of him, for just a second, made her a little aroused, but she pushed the feelings down. That was not how she wanted to treat her husband… was it?

Brian returned, wine glass in hand, and knelt in front of Stephanie and her red heels. He was looking at the floor as he handed her the glass.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Mistress,” he replied.

There was a certain thrill to it, for Stephanie, but she still had her doubts. She just had to know though if Melissa had really… programmed? Was that the word? Programmed him to obey her. Conditioned? This was not Stephanie’s thing, at all. They had played around with some light bondage, handcuffs, and a paddle, but nothing as utterly deviant as this. If Melissa had done it, as much as the woman was horrible, Stephanie was impressed.

To assuage her doubts, Stephanie decided the best way to ensure her husband would follow her commands was to make him do something he would never, ever do. Sit still. Well, not sit.

“Brian,” she said, pointing her shoe toward him so the heel was in his face again, “get on all fours in front of me. I want to watch TV and I need a footstool.”

This would prove it beyond all doubt. It was such a humiliating thing to ask him, that if he was pretending, he would surely reveal it. Worse for him, he hated her favourite show, and it was about to start. He could hardly sit through it, let alone stay on his hands and knees for its full thirty-minute runtime.

“Yes Mistress,” Brian said. He put his hands on the ground and crawled to the point her feet could rest on him comfortably. It seemed like he knew instinctively where to go. Stephanie wondered if Melissa had done this before as she put her feet on his back, crossed her legs at the ankles and turned on *Housewives of Sunset Canyon*.

Brian stayed in position. His hands rocked a little, and as the show wore on, he began to weaken and quiver from the exertion, but he did not move, did not speak, did not protest. Stephanie finished the glass of wine and felt a little giddy. It was hard to tell if it was the wine or the newfound power, but she suddenly wanted to explore the limits of what a pair of red soled shoes could do. She knew it was probably wrong to exploit Brian, but it was also kind of funny and sexy at the same time. Maybe he was into it? Maybe that’s why Melissa did it. She could ask, but if he said no, would that ruin her fun, or would she do more anyway and feel awful about it?

“Brian honey,” she said as the show ended. “Could you get up and take my glass to the kitchen?”

“Yes Mistress,” he replied, still speaking in monotone.

He crawled out from under her feet, and she planted them back on the floor, then he took the glass from her hand and walked to the kitchen. There, he placed it on the countertop and shook his head. He stayed there for a minute, while Stephanie waited. She had given no further instruction, and not knowing what to do next, he was starting to shake off the post-hypnotic trigger that Melissa had left him with, apparently just in case she ever wanted him back. It was all coming back now, the hypnosis sessions, the conditioning. She would grab his cock and stroke it while whispering words in his ears and making him watch videos of shoes and men submitting and sex. The thought of it made him feel weak, but it made his cock hard. Melissa may have been awful, but she was incredibly sexual in a way Stephanie had never really shown.

“Coming back baby?” Stephanie called.

Brian took a deep breath. His senses had returned, and he could discuss the situation with Stephanie now, tell her what had happened with Melissa and get things back to normal. He was sure Stephanie would be nice and understanding, she always was.

“Coming,” he called.

When he walked back into the room Stephanie smiled at him. She had taken off her top and was sitting on the couch with her hair down in a black satin bra and purple minkskirt that showed off her long legs as they curved down to the black shoes she had on the floor, soles on the ground.

“You like?” she asked, caressing her breast with a pink-painted fingernail.

Brian nodded, “I like.”

“Good, because this isn’t for you baby, it’s just a tease to get you all worked up. I need that cock hard.”

“Steph, what? I thought we could talk abo-“

“No, no talking,” she replied and raised her foot, so the sole pointed at Brian.

His eyes glazed over instantly, and he nodded, unable to speak. Stephanie looked him up and down and smiled. He was standing on the red rug at the centre of the room. “Strip and lie down.”

Brian peeled off his clothes as Stephanie watched. His shirt came first, then his jeans. His cock was already hard, straining in his blue underwear. He pulled them down too and his cock sprang to attention, pointed firmly at the red soles of Stephanie’s shoes. Then Brian lay down on the rug. Stephanie stood up and walked to him, standing beside his chest. He looked up at her with a blank expression, but she could see something else, some thought seeping through. Fear or lust or pleading desperation. She lifted her foot and held the sole of her shoe just above his face.

“You obey anything when I wear these, is that right?”

“Yes Mistress,” he said.

“There is nothing you won’t do?”

“Nothing, Mistress.”

“Tell me you belong to me.”

“I belong to you Mistress.”

“I’m not Mistress, Brian, that was Melissa. I’m more than that, even better. I am your Goddess. Aren’t I?” She rocked her heel up and down after speaking, Brian’s eyes followed the motion.

“Yes, Goddess,” he said.

“And if I am a Goddess, I need worshippers and servants, don’t I?” she smirked.

“Yes Goddess, of course.”

“You are going to be my servant. In fact, that is your name now. Say it, say what your name is.”

“My name is servant, Goddess.”

Stephanie smiled. She was getting quite turned on by her newfound power and having a lot of fun. She could turn Brian back to normal later. Maybe.

“Good servant. Now you are going to do exactly that, serve me. I am going to sit on that hard cock, and you are going to fuck me, but not cum. Do you understand?”

“Yes Goddess.”

She pulled down her panties and straddled him, lowering her pussy lips over his twitching cock. “You are a sex toy, you may not orgasm. You only exist to serve your Goddess.”

“Yes Goddess,” he said as her pussy enveloped him in its warmth. He quivered with pleasure.

“Servant, are you submissive? Is that something you never told me?”

Brian was already pumping his cock into Stephanie, who put a hand on his chest to keep her balance as she rode him. “Y-yes Goddess”

“You mean I could have had a servant this whole time? All I had to do was wear some red-soled shoes?”

“I – it’s because Melissa conditioned me, Goddess.”

Stephanie was starting to tremble as she fucked Brian harder, meeting his pumps with a tight squeeze and groaning with pleasure. “How did she do that, servant?”

Brian was bucking wildly, clearly desperate to orgasm already. “She showed me videos while jerking me off, and told me what to think, every day.”

“And now you obey red soles?”

“Yes Goddess.”

“Anything else?”

With whatever willpower he could muster, Brian kept his mouth shut. Yes, there was more. Melissa had made him completely obedient to her. Kept him in a cage, brought him out on a leash, made him her cleaner, her cook, had taken his money, insulted and degraded him and made him beg for more of it.

“I said, anything else, servant?”

Brian bit his lip; the pleasure was intense.

“Servant, if you want to cum, you’ll tell me what other things make you obedient.”

“Yes Goddess,” he replied, “thank you Goddess.”

“So, tell me. Then once you tell me everything, you may cum in my perfect Goddess pussy.”

“Yes Goddess,” Brian squeaked, overcome with desire and the burning need to confess. “Her diamond necklace made me give her anything, any money, or gifts she wanted. If she wore black lipstick, I would beg her to abuse me verbally. And…”

“Come on servant, you need to cum for Goddess,” Stephanie said, almost shouting. She was as turned on as he was. The power and lust she was experiencing was new and exciting and she had to admit the feeling of control was intoxicating.

“Yes Goddess, if she put a collar on me, I would get on all fours and be her dog.”

Brian orgasmed; his last secret revealed. Stephanie felt a climax rock her body at the same time, feeling the thrill of being in total control of another person. As Brian filled her with cum, she stared down at him, her long hair messy, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. A glowing, glistening Goddess to the man pinned beneath her.

“Brian, my servant, we’re about to enter a fun new stage of our relationship.”

With one more squeeze she milked the last drop of cum from him and rolled off, laying with her head beside his feet, and her shoes by his head. “Now lick my soles, servant.”

Brian dutifully turned his head to the side, his cock still rigid, and began to lick at her red soles, mindlessly obeying the Goddess lying beside him.

Honey

It dripped constantly from the tubes, sticky and sweet. The scent of it filled him with a primal need, a hunger he could not sate. All he wanted, all he thought of, was honey. Delicious, fulfilling, live-giving honey. He was in total darkness, but he knew the tube was somewhere above. The drips landed inches from him. For the first day he had kept his tongue out, hoping it would land there and let him savour the perfectly tart flavour. It fell too far away. The dripping and the smell were all that kept him aware he was close to what he so utterly, desperately needed.

A whirring told him the tubes were lowering. It happened once every few hours and each time was sheer ecstasy. The longing and yearning for the taste was unbearable and strapped as he was in an upright position in a room he did not know the size or shape of, the only thing he felt, could feel, was hunger. Some sounds told him he was not alone, groans and cries and the sound of sucking and slurping and shouts of pleasure when the tubes came. How many others, what they looked like, who they were, even where they had come from was all a mystery. He had known before the honey, before he tasted it and everything changed, but that was no longer important. The tubes were coming.

It was an agonising wait. Seconds that felt like hours, days. Slowly, with a mechanical buzz and somewhere distant a sloshing and churning, until finally a click and he could open his mouth. The tube buzzed and lengthened to enter his mouth and he clamped down on it. Soon. The remnants of his last feeding were still there, and he greedily licked around the edges of the tube while he waited for the flow to start. A low rumbling down the tube told him he would not wait much longer. Honey was flowing, pumped with enough pressure to smoothly roll down his throat and fill his belly, but never choke him.

It came. It filled him, moving into his mouth, and touching his tongue. Nectar of the gods. He sucked it down as though he had found water in the desert. Nothing had ever tasted as perfectly sweet and sticky and sublime. All he knew, all he wanted, was honey. He felt its warmth inside him, coursing through him as though his very veins were suffused with its saccharine, syrupy, splendour.

The tube retracted. So soon, so horribly soon. He tried to push further, to reach more. He needed it, more than food, more than water, more than anything. The tube did not care. It moved away, then up, buzzing, and whirring as it returned to its resting place high above, out of reach. Strapped as he was to what felt like cold metal on his naked body, there was no getting to it. He would have to wait, and he knew the exquisite agony that meant.

A moan nearby told him that so did one of the others. It was familiar, a voice that he felt he knew, but thought was so hard, his mind was trapped in a honey jar. Any attempt to think was like moving through the sticky, gooey mess and that made him think even more of honey.

“Carl,” the voice groaned.

Carl. He was Carl. Was he Carl? He felt something, a memory, bubbling to the surface through a haze of yellow. Carl had been at home when they came. With… with who?

“It’s me, Carl, it’s Becca.”

With Becca. His wife. Only honey mattered, but that was what happened. They came and they took them. It was a flash, nothing more, a stinging sensation when the door opened and then darkness and honey and honey and honey.

“Carl, please…”

All he needed was a taste, another drop. It would let him think, let him see through the darkness and remember more. Remember who he was beyond that flash of memory. Her voice was safe and warm and kind, and it was honey too. It buzzed in his brain and made him feel things he could not place. Happiness and anger and warmth and arousal and pain and pleasure and hope. Honey made him feel better. Honey was only warmth and happiness.

“Carl, we need to get out of here,” Becca murmured, as though she too were encased in a jar of honey.

Carl pulled against the restraints, but they did not budge, and he wondered if getting away meant not getting honey and then he stopped fighting. Honey would come soon. Honey always came. He only wanted the honey, not her. Who was she again?

“Carl, please,” the voice pleaded.

Becca. It was Becca. He knew that. Memories like bubbles in golden droplets popped in his mind. Kissing on the beach, holding hands in a forest, Becca in a white dress in front of people. Family. Friends. Where were they? What was going on?

“Becca?” Carl said. His own voice was alien to him, deep and hoarse.

“You’re there, thank God. Honey, we have to get out of here.”

Honey. That was what he needed. She was right, the second she said it he knew what he wanted, what he needed. The memories were unimportant compared to the sticky, sickly sweet honey. Carl licked his lips and a sliver of drool slid down his chin.

“Carl? Please don’t stop talking. I need to hear you.”

Warm, wet, squelching, and sweet. So, so sweet. Carl’s mind was swimming in honey. The voice talking to him was so far away.

“Please, I need you.”

Clearer now, closer. Becca. Becca needed him. Becca, his wife.

“I’m here.”

“Carl how do we escape?”

In the darkness, he could see nothing. The only sensations over the past few days had been the dripping from the honey tubes, the whirring and buzzing of them and the grunts and groans of whoever else was in the room. It could have been miles long or a tiny box, there was no way to know. Sometimes there were clicking sounds, strange, thin footsteps. Once there had been screaming and shouting and heavy thumps and thuds but then the tubes fell, and it had stopped being important. Now Carl wished he could remember more, but he was drowning in golden warmth.

“I… I don’t know,” he managed.

“I’m scared,” Becca said. Her voice was thin. She sounded tired or pained.

Carl strained harder than he had before. There was another need now, equally primal beside the unending hunger, the need to protect Becca. The restraints gave, just a little. He felt his left arm loosen slightly, not enough to pull it away but enough to move it back and forth, stressing the restraint, jiggling, and jostling about. Something was giving.

“I’ll be there soon Becca.”

He kept fighting, kept pulling the arm against the restraint with all the might he could muster. Carl, deep down beneath the aching hunger for honey, knew something terrible had happened, knew he should not be strapped upright being fed from a tube. How had that seemed normal? Who could have done all this? Why?

“Please honey, please help me.”

Please. Honey. Please. Carl wanted to beg for more of it, more sticky sweet sugary soft surging down his throat. He needed it. The emptiness in his stomach made him feel weak and needy. Desperate. Pathetic. Afraid. The honey would help. The honey would make it all go away and make him whole again. He had no need for a wife or freedom or memories or anything but the glorious honey that gave him life. It was so clear now; he should stop fighting whatever had happened and embrace it. Why would he ever try to get away from the place that served him the only thing he needed?

Becca called out again. “Carl, don’t give up, I’m scared.”

He tried to shake his head but found that was restrained too, a strap across his forehead. It was so hard to think or fight but he pushed his left arm again, hearing a tiny rip in whatever the restraint was made of. Giving it all his might, it gave a little more and finally, with a sudden jerk, it fell to the ground and his arm was free. He grasped at his right hand, feeling the leather strap and buckle, and managing to open it with some effort. Now, two free hands could explore the rest of the restraints. One held his head in place, two he could feel at his ankles and another larger one at his waist. That was where he started, grasping for a buckle or clasp but failing to find it.

“Are you free yet Carl,” Becca said, a little more insistent now, probably as desperate as he was, “please, help me. I need your strength.”

“Almost,” he grunted as he clawed at the tight leather clamping his waist to metal. “Just need to open this.”

“Hurry Carl,” Becca pleaded, “you have to help me, you have to.”

He knew that. He knew he had to help her, but it was so hard to free himself and he was getting so tired and thinking about where the honey would come from next. It was such hard, hungry work.

“Please Carl,” Becca called, “keep working for me, don’t ever stop.”

She sounded so close, beside him or in front of him, but so, so close. He just had to keep trying and fumbling and grabbing at his restraints in the darkness. There had to be a way to get out. He switched to the harness around his forehead and quickly found metal buttons above his right ear. He popped them open, and his head was free. He could lean forward now and find the buckle or the buttons or the clasp, whatever was keeping that strap on his waist locked around him tightly.

“You’re almost there, work just a little harder, ok honey?”

Work. Honey. Work. Which was right? Work or honey? He had to save Becca but the honey, God the honey. Then the whirring started. The tube was coming. He could hear it from all around him, like the buzzing of a great beehive as tubes slowly lowered all over the room. The anticipation was incredible, the horrible need. There was nothing he wanted more, but Becca but honey but work but sweet. He waited for the tube that would give him the energy he needed to keep working on his escape, but it never came. He could hear sucking and slurping around him, others being nourished by the honey tubes, but his was not there. He could move around more than ever but that did not help, it had not dropped from the ceiling.

“Honey?” he croaked.

A flash of light and the room was illuminated. All around him men, there must have been almost a hundred, were strapped to metal machines, sucking honey through the tubes coming from the ceiling. The little yellow droplets that escaped their mouths were the only colour in an otherwise sterile environment. He had never seen anything like it, each man was strapped as he had been, at ankle, waist, wrist and head, and the only thing they seemed to care about was the tube lodged in their throat. He glanced around for Becca, but she was not there.

A door swung open and a woman… no… a bee… walked in. Becca? Was this his wife? She was almost six feet tall, with soft yellow skin, long blonde hair and ruby-coloured eyes. Her body was incredibly curvy, large breasts in a black leotard that tapered down to her hips. Behind her was a huge tail or abdomen, he could not remember enough from biology class to be sure. It swayed gently as she walked on pointed feet toward him, her four black and yellow arms open wide and a big smile on her face. Two similar looking but smaller bee women flanked her, though they lacked the massive abdomen Becca had.

“B-Becca?” Carl mumbled when she stopped in front of him.

She cocked her hips and put two of her four hands on them, then with the other two she caressed his cheeks.

“This drone is ready for work,” she said.

“Yes, my Queen,” one of the other two said.

“Wait, what? Becca, what’s happening?”

She smiled and let out the tiniest chuckle. “There is no Becca, human, I am your Queen.”

One of the other two bee women stepped forward and examined Carl, tilting her head back and forth. “One of them will escape, and this way of conditioning them will fail, my Queen.”

“Oh I know, but that will be all the more delicious, won’t it, Carl?” the Queen said.

Carl’s mouth was open, his eyes focused on the woman he thought was Becca but now he was lost. Was she Becca once? Was she ever? The Queen leaned closer to him, her chest at the same height as his head. She peeled back part of her leotard, exposing a soft, yellow breast. Squeezing it made drops of honey ooze from her nipple and Carl gulped. He stared at it, the hunger back, stronger than ever.

“Please,” he managed to choke out of his dry throat.

“You see,” the Queen said, turning to the other bee woman, “the human men are easy to control. Now let’s finish his conversion.”

The Queen grabbed Carl’s head and pulled his mouth onto her nipple. He began to suckle at it, feeling the honey pour into his mouth, tasting better than it ever had from the tube. His cock stiffened and a hand grabbed it and started stroking, then another hand joined in. The pleasure, the taste, everything was incredible. So many sensations, such utter need. Carl was swirling in honeyed ecstasy and all that mattered was the Queen and her nectar. He swallowed and swallowed and still needed more.

“Your only needs are to work and feed and never stop,” the Queen said,” that is the life of a drone.”

She pulled away and his lips opened and closed on the air, looking for the nipple and the honey, but it was gone, and he felt totally empty and lost. The only thing that would fulfil him was her honey and he knew he would work until he got it.

“Take him away and prepare him for the mining team,” the Queen said to one subordinate before turning to the other. “Which of these humans is next?

Important

Andrew clenched his fists and ground his teeth. He had been queueing for twenty minutes to go to the perfume counter and a woman in front of him would not leave. She was relentlessly tossing questions at the poor sales assistant, who smiled and showed off a range of scents, none of which pleased this extremely particular customer.

Andrew was there to buy his girlfriend a birthday present. He knew exactly what he wanted, he had planned the trip around his lunch hour from work, and he should have been on his way back to the office with a bottle of Number Four Eau de Parfum. Instead, he was watching a woman a few years older than him, probably late thirties, hound a much younger woman who was starting to nod more quickly and smile a little less with each passing moment.

He had had enough. Andrew cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, but there are other customers waiting.”

The woman turned to face him. She was about his height, but stood taller in four-inch black heels. That’s where Andrew looked first, following them up her stockinged legs to the knee-length hemline of a purple dress with a slit on the side and a low cut, showing a rather impressive cleavage. When he met her eyes, she was scowling, red lips pursed, perfectly plucked brows furrowed and her piercing green eyes shone with anger, framed by golden blonde hair.

“Darling,” she began, “I’m browsing. When I finish browsing, I am sure this lovely young woman will be happy to assist you.”

Her tone was incredibly condescending, and looking down as she was, Andrew felt tiny for a moment. His anger quickly returned.

“Look, I just have one quick thing to buy and I’m in a hurry, can I just-“

“I told you dear,” the woman said, “I am browsing. I am ahead of you; you must wait your turn.”

That was enough for him. Andrew hated being spoken down to by anyone, let alone some woman who thought she was important.

“You’ve been here long enough. Other people exist you know, you’re not the centre of the universe.”

“Aren’t I?” she replied. Then, to Andrew’s surprise she stepped aside and let him walk past her with a bow. As he moved toward the counter, he heard a faint hiss and smelled something flowery, a lovely scent, like being lost in a rose garden.

“A bottle of Number Four please,” he said at the counter.

“What size?” asked the assistant.

A haze seemed to descend over Andrew’s mind. He tried to remember what he planned to buy but it slipped from his mind. He blinked, shook his head, but the memory had vanished.

“He wants the sixty mil, isn’t that right dear?” the woman behind him said.

“Y-yes, thanks,” Andrew agreed.

He paid and watched the sales assistant start wrapping the perfume carefully in a presentation box.

“Very nice,” the woman behind him said, “a beautiful scent. I can think of few I prefer.”

Turning around, Andrew took in the woman’s body again. A perfect hourglass, hips and breasts round and plump but a tiny waist and legs that tapered beautifully into her heels. This time, she was smiling.

“My name is Charlotte, dear, what shall I call you?”

“A-Andrew,” he said, focusing on her eyes.

“And who are you buying the perfume for, Andrew?”

“My girlfriend, Sam.”

“How sweet, I’m sure she smells wonderful in it.”

Charlotte tilted her head to one side and smirked.

“She does,” Andrew said.

“Do you like perfume, Andrew?”

The sales assistant was still wrapping the perfume up. Andrew wondered if she would finish soon, the conversation was getting very strange.

“I guess,” he said. “She likes gifts a lot.”

“Women love perfume Andrew because men have no idea the effect it has. The subtle aroma created by a fine perfume and a woman’s skin, it’s like pheromones that drive the man wild with desire. Does Sam drive you wild with desire?”

Andrew’s hands were getting clammy. His head spinning in the smell of roses and something else, something altogether more primal. “Sometimes she does.”

“When a man smells the right perfume, on the right woman, it can really take over his mind, turn him into a beast of lust and yearning. It makes her the centre of his universe.”

Andrew shook his head again. He wondered why Charlotte was telling him all this. It was so confusing to listen to her, so hard to focus. He just wanted…”

“All done,” the shop assistant chirped.

Andrew turned and smiled, then took the perfume, carefully placed in a plastic bag, and began to walk away. Charlotte walked beside him.

“So, Andrew dear, you were a little rude to me before, weren’t you?”

So that was her game, she was angry. Why was she acting so nice? Was it a rich woman thing? She seemed rich.

“I was waiting a long time.”

“Was your Sam not worth the wait?”

“She is, you aren’t.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You think I am.”

“No, I don’t,” Andrew said, walking faster. The smell was still there but fading as he moved, the air conditioning of the shopping centre was pushing it away and his mind was clearing. It must have been something in the perfume shop that did not agree with him. He reached the main entrance and was making his way toward his car when Charlotte reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Look at me,” she commanded.

It was enough to make him pause and meet her green eyes. She had a small perfume bottle in her hand which she squirted onto her neck. The scent wafted toward Andrew and he felt that dizziness again.

“Follow me to my car.”

He wanted to say no and walk away, but something compelled him to follow Charlotte, watching her hips swaying back and forth as she moved. Her dress was tight and looked expensive. He noticed the red heels of her shoes peeking out each time she lifted a foot and clicked It down on the ground again. It was a quick, rhythmical movement and he found himself enjoying the sound as he walked after her, head drooped and body swaying slightly as if he were drunk.

“That’s a good boy, follow my heels.”

Charlotte reached a black Range Rover and stopped. The scent of her perfume had lingered in the air behind her with each step she took, beckoning Andrew after her, calling to him like a siren song, but again, it started to wear off. The light breeze of the outdoors sent other smells swirling around, diluting the potency of the perfume.

“Wait, what are you doing to me?” Andrew asked.

He looked at Charlotte, standing in her purple dress, her cleavage bursting from it, her long hair spilling over her shoulders. She was undeniably beautiful, but Andrew had Sam and he certainly did not need to be dragged into some rich woman’s car. Of course, it was a Range Rover. She was exactly the type. Fancy, fake-sounding sing-song accent, the overpriced clothes and perfectly trimmed hair. Thought she was so damned important, that was why she took over the perfume counter. He hated people like that. He

“I’m showing you how important I am, darling,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah, well you’re not. You’re just some rich bit-“

Charlotte grabbed Andrew by the neck and pulled his face into her cleavage. He held his breath, he knew what she was doing, but she was strong, stronger than he expected, and something was stopping him from pulling away. The soft pillows he was pressed into perhaps, or the fact his mouth had been open, and he could taste her perfume. It made him feel weak again. What was that stuff? Was she drugging him? He had to breathe. He inhaled and the sweet scent flooded his nostrils. Immediately he lost focus and started to breathe slowly and steadily.

“That’s a good boy, you’re starting to see that I am very important, aren’t you?”

Andrew could only mumble yes into Charlotte’s breasts.

“Get in the car for me, won’t you?” she asked, pushing him upright.

He groggily complied as she opened the door, letting him clamber into the back seat. The interior was heavily scented, the same rose-tinged aroma as her perfume. Andrew was completely unable to think with it, a heavy cloud settling over him. He imagined it in rose pink, surrounding him, enveloping him, and making it hard to see anything except Charlotte. Beautiful, powerful Charlotte. She gracefully stepped into the back seat and sat beside him, shutting the door. Behind tinted windows, they were totally hidden from view.

“Now, you are awfully mouthy, aren’t you? You think of yourself as in control, do you?”

Normally he did, but right now Andrew was in control of very little. He could hardly string a sentence together, but he somehow managed to blurt, “yes.”

“Yes, Charlotte, try again.”

“Yes Charlotte,” he echoed in a monotone.

“Good boy. Now, you seem to have the false impression that you matter, but only I matter right now. Only Charlotte matters. Only Charlotte and her fabulous, intoxicating scent and her long legs and deep cleavage matter. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Good boy. You see, I am important. I am so very, very important. You must agree, seeing that you are now eagerly sitting in the back of my car, listening to my every word.”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Yes Charlotte what?”

Andrew’s head was spinning, he had to think about it. Yes, Charlotte was important, impeccable, gorgeous. He should not be in her car. He blinked once, twice. He needed to get out.

“I should go…”

Charlotte grabbed him by the chin and pointed his face toward hers. “You agree that I am important, say it.”

“Yes Charlotte,” Andrew said, “you are important.”

“That’s right, look deep into my eyes.”

He tried to move away, to close his eyes, but it was important to look into hers, important to listen. She was important. The smell in the car was strong, far stronger than at the perfume counter.

“I am so important right now. Your only focus. My eyes are your only focus. They are important, my words are important. I am the most important thing in the world. The centre of your universe.”

Andrew felt as though she were staring directly through him. He was lost, captivated.

“You find that you are so much less than me, because that is how important I am. My divine scent reminds you that you are nothing, and I am everything. What are you, Andrew?”

“I am nothing, Charlotte.”

“Good boy, and what am I?”

“You are everything.”

“That’s right. Now let your eyes wander over my body. My big tits, tight little waist, follow my curves down to my long, sexy legs and my pretty feet in these heels. All so sexy. Do you like my body, Andrew?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

He loved it, loved every curve. Even when he was angry with her, he had found her incredibly arousing to look at.

“You find yourself getting aroused, don’t you?”

He could feel his cock stiffen as she spoke, feel it straining against his jeans. He had barely noticed it before, but it must have been like that for a while because he needed so badly to be touched.

“Yes Charlotte.”

“My body is perfect, but what arouses you most is that I am so important. So superior to you. You realise that and it makes your cock twitch with need.”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“But you may not touch it. Because I am superior, and too important. Aren’t I?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

Good boy,” she said, before letting go of his chin and lifting her foot up into the air in front of him. “All you deserve is to lick the dirt from my shoes, to apologise for being so insolent to someone far superior to you. Isn’t that right?”

Andrew was not into feet. A nice pair of heels was sexy, but not feet alone. Certainly not licking dirt from them. He pulled away, reflexively.

“No Andrew, you are inferior, you do as you are told. You will lick the dirt from my shoes because I am more important than you. You are nothing.”

“Yes Charlotte,” he said, before leaning forward and licking her red heel. It tasted awful, but he felt himself becoming more aroused because he was doing it for his superior. That was a new, confusing feeling, but not unpleasant.

“Good boy, now the other one,” she said and deftly swapped feet with a cross of her legs.

Andrew licked the sole clean and she dropped her foot the ground.

“Very good. It is right to obey your superior, isn’t it Andrew?”

“Y-yes Charlotte,” he mumbled, lost in a haze of arousal and the constant sweet scent of roses.

“What would Sam think if she knew you just did that?”

He froze. Sam. She would be furious. Was it cheating to do this? He was so turned on that it must have been. He needed to go, he was being controlled, this was not something he wanted. He had to get out. He moved his hand to the door handle and jiggled it, but it did not budge. Then he felt Charlotte’s hand on his crotch and shivered with pleasure.

“You are not leaving yet, not until you truly know your place.”

She began to rub his cock through his jeans, slowly and softly. It felt incredible, her touch was so gentle yet so knowing, so experienced.

“You are under my control Andrew, and the control of my perfume. You are mine to command, aren’t you?”

“Yes Charlotte,” he squeaked as she stroked him faster.

“You will obey me completely, because you are inferior to me in every way, won’t you?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

She smiled and he twitched involuntarily. Such a sexy smile, her eyes filled with a dark, dominating lust. He was powerless.

“You are going to do something for me, because you are nothing but a tool for me to use. Do you agree?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Good boy, two things, in fact. You are going to cum in your jeans to my touch because I do not want to feel your actual penis, pathetic as it is, and you are going to bring something home to your lovely Sam.”

Andrew hesitated. He felt so, so good as Charlotte rubbed him with her red-nailed hand but he could not bring something to Sam. No way he could let her know about this, that would be insane.

“You are not allowed to cum Andrew, unless you agree to that.”

He needed it so badly. His eyes wandered over Charlotte’s body, her legs, her breasts and even to the shoes he had licked because he was so inferior. Did he always think that about himself? It was true, wasn’t it?

“Do you agree?” Charlotte asked with a sudden grasp of his cock which made him lurch forward with surprise and ecstasy.

“Yes, yes Charlotte.”

“Because you are inferior. To me, and even to Sam.”

“Yes Charlotte,” Andrew gasped.

“So, you will give this to her,” Charlotte said, grabbing a small box from inside the car door. “This is a small sample of the scent that you love so much. There is a note with it. You must give it to her and wait for her to read the note and try it. Do you understand?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Anyone wearing this scent is superior to you in every way. You will be unable to resist them, unable to deny them.”

Charlotte stroked his cock even faster. It felt incredible. Was he really going to give Sam the box? What would she do with it? She would probably kick him out. It hardly mattered, he needed, desperately, to cum.

“You need so badly to cum my dear, but you need to do more than just agree to bring this to her. You must affirm your inferiority. You must agree that when you cum you accept your position as absolutely nothing. You must say it aloud and let it imprint itself on your mind forever. You are nothing. You are unimportant. You must speak the words.”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Are you ready to cum and accept your place?”

“Yes Charlotte.”

“Good, cum me for me and tell me what you are.”

Andrew erupted into his underwear. Absolute bliss flowed through him. His mind swam in desire and desperation. “I am nothing. I am unimportant.”

“That’s right Andrew, you are nothing. You are inferior.”

“Yes Charlotte, I am inferior,” Andrew droned as waves of pleasure rocked his body.

“Now one more thing, give me your phone.”

Shaking with pleasure, Andrew reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and handed it to Charlotte. She entered her phone number and handed it back, then removed her hand from his twitching cock.

“Good boy, contact me once Sam starts using the perfume, I want to know what happens. Now get out of my car.”

She opened the door and Andrew staggered out past her, taking one last look into her eyes, and seeing the most important face in the world. He regained his senses a little when she slammed the door behind him, and he felt the cold breeze in the air. Then he noticed the wet patch in his jeans and the small box in his right hand.

He rushed back to his car, placed it on the passenger seat and stared at it for a moment, then he turned on the ignition and drove out of the car park toward home.

Scam Call

“Hello?” Jack grunted, phone to his ear.

“Yes, hello am I speaking to Mister Jack?” came the voice on the other end.

A scam call. Another one. Jack had been getting them for weeks and he was sick of hearing voices from the other side of the world telling him his computer had a virus or his bank details had been stolen. He was supposed to be finishing some data entry.

“Yes, this is Jack. Please stop calling me.”

“Mister Jack this will only take a few moments. My name is Jasmine and-“

“Look, Jasmine,” he groaned, “I really don’t have time for this.”

“If you will please listen very carefully and try not to worry. My name as I said is Jasmine and I am here to help you today.”

“Right, look I need to go, I have-“

“You do not need to worry Mister Jack; you do not need to be stressed. I am here to help you, please relax and listen and you will understand that you do not need to worry.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. It was different to the usual patter. Some small part of him was curious where she was going. Jasmine’s voice was quite smooth and soft, compared to the usual hectic script reading over cacophonous background noise from some far-off call centre, this was pleasant. Still a scam, obviously.

“That’s right Mister Jack, just let yourself relax and let Jasmine take care of all your worries and stress, let Jasmine take care of everything. Are you sitting down, Mister Jack?”

“Yes,” he moaned, “why does it matter?”

“It matters that you can relax, Jack, it is important that you are sitting down so that you can sink into your chair and let Jasmine do all the worrying for you. I want you to feel at ease while I assist you today.”

“Right,” Jack said. He looked around the room. Everything seemed a little distant.

“Now as you are sitting down you will find that your feet and legs are quite relaxed, but the rest of your body is tense, is it not?”

Jack scoffed, where was this going? He should just hang up, but he did enjoy listening to Jasmine’s voice. He could not place it, it just sounded exotic and sensual. Honey seeping through his ears. “Yes, the rest of me is tense. Probably because of the scam cal-“

“Not to worry Jack, Jasmine will take care of everything. You must simply breathe in and out slowly, let yourself drift into the chair even deeper. Jasmine is here to take all your problems away.”

Jack felt himself sinking down into his chair, letting his body go a little limp.

“That’s good Jack, just breathing slowly and carefully. Focus on that and Jasmine will focus on your problems.”

“Mmm,” Jack found himself answering. He shook his head, but it was nice to let Jasmine talk to him, maybe he could let this one call keep going.

“Very good Jack, you’re doing very well and soon I will take all your problems away but first I will test our connection to ensure we are in good shape to assist you. I will simply count from five to one and with each number I want you to say, ‘Yes Jasmine,’ if you hear it, do you understand?”

“I do, yes,” Jack droned.

“Very good and with each number you can just relax even more because if our connection is clear I will absolutely be helping you today and you will be completely happy with that. Are you ready?”

Jack took a long, slow breath. “Ready.”

“Good Jack, five.”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“Jack that’s excellent, doing so well and feeling so relaxed and calm. Four.”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“That’s right, we have a great connection Jack, so strong. Three.”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“Very good Jack, you are slipping into a very peaceful and relaxed state so that Jasmine can do her work. Two.”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“That’s right, now we are doing so well together, you are so happy to let Jasmine help you today, one.”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“Good boy Jack, Jasmine is in control now, Jasmine is ready to help you. You want Jasmine to help you, don’t you Jack?”

Jack was in a daze, he felt so good, so relaxed, more than he had in weeks. Jasmine clearly had his best interests at heart if that’s the state she could put him in. “Yes Jasmine.”

“Good boy, it feels good to just let Jasmine take over, and I’ll tell you a little secret, it feels a little arousing too. Doesn’t it?”

Jack could not disagree, her sweet, sexy voice had his cock straining against his trousers.

“Yes, it does Jasmine,” he said.

“Jasmine has a way with words you see, but you don’t need to think about that. You don’t need to think about anything Jack, you simply need to listen to me. Listen and obey my words.”

“Yes Jasmine,” Jack said.

“Good boy, you are at your computer?”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“Fantastic,” Jasmine chimed, “please navigate to www.queenjasmine.net.”

Jack dutifully obeyed, opening a browser and going to the website. On the screen in front of him was a spiral, which began to spin slowly.

“You see the spiral Jack?”

“Yes, I do Jasmine,” Jack said.

“Stare into it Jack, let it swirl and spin and turn your mind around and around. It makes you feel dizzy and confused.”

Jack watched the spiral and felt himself losing focus on anything else. He could not think, could not do anything but stare at it.

“You fall into the spiral, you feel compelled by it, it pulls you down, deeper and deeper for Jasmine, making you even more happy to listen to my every word.”

It kept spinning faster, or was Jack’s mind slowing? He could not tell either way, he could just stare, just watch and listen to Jasmine’s saccharine voice caressing his mind.

“Good boy Jack, you’re doing so well for Jasmine and that makes you feel very good, and I know it might be inappropriate for such a call, but I also know it is rather arousing to listen to my voice.”

Jack’s cock twitched, he was lost deep in the spiral, mind completely clouded by confusion and lust. Jasmine’s voice lapped at his brain like water on the shore, slowly rising, covering his thoughts as water over sand.

“You listen and obey Jack; you do whatever Jasmine tells you. And I tell you to stare into the spiral and learn the problems you have and how I can help you, do you understand Jack?”

“Yes Jasmine.”

“Good boy, and you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you when you say that, when you agree with me. It’s so easy to agree and feel pleasure, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes Jasmine,” Jack grunted, feeling pleasure swell over his body, pulsating through his cock.

“Good boy. You see the reason you keep getting these calls is the burden of wealth. That feels heavy, dragging you down, but lightening that load would be so much easier. You want peace and calm and Jasmine can give that to you, by releasing you of your burden.”

Jack paused. Something deep inside made him question that. His burden of wealth. She wanted his money, that was it. She was confusing him to try and take it. “No, wait a minute Jas-“

“It is ok to have doubts, but you understand that obeying Jasmine gives you pleasure, don’t you Jack?”

He paused. His hard cock told him to say yes, while his dulled mind tried to scream no. His cock was quite clearly in charge in the moment.

“Yes Jasmine.”

Pleasure flooded his senses, it was so good to just let her think, let her command him.

“Good boy Jack, now let’s divest you of your silly doubts. Pull out your cock for Jasmine.”

“Yes Jasmine,” Jack said as he opened his trousers and released his cock. It stood to attention as he continued to stare into the spiral on the screen.

“Stroke it slowly and do as Jasmine commands. You will be freed today, freed of your burdens, and given great pleasure for doing so. Less problems, more pleasure, yes Jack?”

“Yes Jasmine,” he said, tugging on his penis in a slow, steady motion. It felt incredible as her words drifted around in his mind.

“Good boy Jack, now you’re going to scroll down from the spiral to the next section of the website and stroke your cock a little faster.”

“Yes Jasmine,” Jack droned. He scrolled down to see a payment portal ready for card information.

“Now you are ready to release the burdens you carry. Your wealth, causing you so many problems, and your seed. Aren’t you, my boy?”

Jack stared at the portal, knowing something was wrong, but the voice in his ear was so compelling and he felt so dizzy and heavy, like he could never get up. He wanted to lighten that load. To feel at peace.

“You will enter your card information for Jasmine, do you understand?”

“Yes Jasmine.”

Jack began to type the numbers, and, in his ear, the honeyed voice started to speak.

“Good boy for Jasmine, feels so good to obey. Let Jasmine help you, let Jasmine control you. Hard for Jasmine.”

She kept repeating like that until the typing stopped, then she asked another question. “Tell me Jack, how much is in the account that card is linked to?”

Jack gulped. This time he really knew something was very, very wrong. Yet he felt compelled to answer and answer truthfully. He just had to obey Jasmine.

“Eight thousand, Jasmine.”

“Enter that amount for me, good boy, and you will soon feel the pleasure only I can give you as you stroke even faster.”

Pre-cum dripped from his cock as Jack entered those four digits. All his savings, everything to cover bills and food for the month. All in four tiny digits on the screen. He stroked quicker, and his cursor hovered over the payment button.

“When you click the button Jack, you will feel the most wonderful release, you will give up all your burdens and explode for Jasmine, who knows best, knows what’s good for you. Won’t you?”

Jack’s cock was twitching, he needed to cum so badly. Her voice was like silk wrapping itself around his dick and rubbing it with a smoothness he had never known could exist. “Yes Jasmine.”

“And before you do Jack, once that is done, you will awake having forgotten this call happened, until I call you again, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Jasmine, please let me cum.”

“You may pay then, Jack, and cum for Jasmine.”

Jack clicked pay. He came, shooting a hot, sticky mess all over his keyboard. As he quivered with utterly exquisite pleasure, he heard a giggle on the end of the line.

“Good boy Jack, payment made. Burden lifted. Time to awaken, we will speak again soon.”

Jack shook his head and pulled the phone from his ear. A dial tone was coming from it, so he hung up and put it down. On the computer screen in front of him was the spreadsheet he had been working on. He felt incredible, and realised his cock was out, limp and dripping, and cum was all over the keyboard.

What had happened, he wondered. The phone rang, interrupting his train of thought.

“Ugh,” he groaned, “probably another scam call.”