Taking Total Control: A Mesmerizing Bundle

by Nadia Nightside

  “You’ll...own me?” Her voice, from his grip on her throat, was soft now.

  “Yes. And if you’ll help, then I aim to get that tool back.”

  “The one that will make me yours completely.”

  “That’s right. What do you think?”

  “I think I need to cum really, really bad.”

  He smiled, choking her a little harder. She responded with a soft cry of need. Leaning over, he roughly pushed his fingers into her slit—which was fine. She was slick as he had ever felt any woman.

  “You're going to cum for me, slave. You're my good little slave,” he explained, “and good little slaves cum for Master whenever he says. Don't they?”

  Her body shook underneath him. “Y-yes!”

  Her arms shook in her bindings. She had nowhere to go. No way to escape even if she wanted—though of course she was happy being tied up like she was.

  “Please, Master? Please? Let me cum? Tell me to cum, please? I need it so, so bad, but I need you to tell me, I need you to tell me, I need you to tell—”

  “Cum for me, Catherine. Cum for Master.”

  A low, happy cry of ecstasy left her body, like an exorcised ghost. Moaning, biting his broad shoulder, she came. Her tight, hot body shook against his; those gorgeous pale tits rubbing up and down his shirt. Tasia and Belle stirred on the floor, smiling with open lust as they saw their Master pleasing another woman so.

  After about a minute, Catherine's body finally stopped shaking. Slowly, with just a bit of regret, he let her out of her bindings.

  “I had gotten used to them,” she said. “You’ll tie me up again, won’t you?”

  She rubbed her wrists. The ropes had been soft, but even soft ropes would begin to chafe after a while. Luckily, her skin only seemed slightly irritated.

  “Certainly. That's what I do for good slaves.”

  Catherine smiled and blushed. Katie finally stirred on the floor, waking up in Tasia's arms, as if wakened by the smell of a fresh orgasm.

  “What now?” asked Catherine. “I mean...this is my first...um, few minutes as a slave. So what do you require, Master?”

  It was cute how hard she was trying. She knelt down on the floor in front of him, her knees sitting in the puddle of her own spent aroused juices.

  He stroked his jaw, considering. “First thing—I need that watch back.”

  “What does it do?” asked Catherine. “The watch.”

  He saw no reason to lie to her. If she knew, she knew.

  “It hypnotizes women. It hypnotized you.”

  “Is that why I feel so...so submissive? Is it that powerful?”

  “I think it is. But I don’t think that’s why you feel that way. I undid most of the damage I did. I went really, really far with you. Too far.”

  “How far is too far?”

  “You turned your back on your God and proclaimed me as him instead.”

  Her eyebrows rose, one hand coming to her mouth. “Oh my. Yes. That is rather far, isn’t it?”

  The assistants slowly rose upward, as if one being. Tasia, Belle, and Katie all crawled up to their knees at once, pushing Catherine aside only slightly, so that they could crawl around their Master’s lounging body.

  “We missed you, Sire,” cooed Tasia.

  “So much.” Belle and Katie—perhaps due to being indoctrinated at the same time—had started the habit of speaking at the same time as well. “We followed your orders exactly.”

  “Yes, Sire,” said Tasia. “We made each other cum I think eight times. And the new initiate came four. Didn’t you, initiate?”

  Catherine nodded, clearly feeling subservient to Tasia.

  From the body language of Catherine—the slight tilt of her head, the lowering of her eyes—her subservience appeared to come more easily to Tasia than it did to Warren. He wondered why that might be. Perhaps it was because Tasia had no doubt about her place. And Warren, for all that he knew about how much he deserved to have these women worshiping him, was still rather new at it. Tasia thought that she had been born perfect at service—had been wrangling her Master’s slaves and doting affection on him for her entire life.

  Without any prompt at all, Tasia pushed the other girls away, claiming first privilege on his cock. The other two whined and pouted, but only because it turned Warren on. They were perfectly happy, he knew, to watch Tasia suck him off. Her dark body looked so right in the service to his body.

  Blissfully, perfectly obedient. They would never move against him. No matter what.

  No matter what. That set off an idea in Warren’s head.

  “Belle, Katie.” He cleared his throat. “I need you to listen up.”

  Reluctantly, they moved their faces away from his balls, retracting tongues into their mouths. “Yes, Master?”

  “I’ve got a little job for you...”

  * * * * *

  Alone in her house, dressed neatly in a fashionable green sundress, the positively gorgeous Melinda sat and looked at the watch. Wondering where it had come from. What its origins were.

  Was it a force for good or evil? Was it just a tool, to be used for gain? But tools weren’t marked like this watch was—the engraving upon it. An open eye in the middle of a sun.

  Tools were just tools, built with a purpose. Humans marked property and heirlooms; humans marked ceremonial instruments for strange rituals, and humans marked weapons for war. Didn't they? Was this some manner of weapon?

  That it was powerful was beyond doubt. Just the night before, she had hypnotized three of the richest men in the city. They had signed over practically the entirety of their wealth over to her. She would never feel insecure about money again.

  That was happiness, for Melinda. Feeling secure. A lifetime of disappointments and missed opportunities had made her loathe to invest herself in anything that wasn't sure. She had been burned too often.

  She supposed, with the men last night, it wasn't necessary to make them never be able to fuck another women without thinking of Melinda the entire time. Even so, the thought made her heart warm. She rather deserved that kind of worship. And without all that fuss about actually having to fuck such inferior men.

  There was a real man out there, waiting for her. Maybe Warren, if he hadn't disappointed her so often. There was a kind of appeal to him, to be sure, a rugged determination that not many men possessed. And after all, sex the other night had been fantastic—but she pushed the thought away.

  He didn't deserve her.

  Melinda wasn't sure anyone did. She could easily make out her reflection in the mirror across the room. God, she was perfect. She pushed a hand through the thick mass of her hair. Had anyone ever had hair so thick and luxuriously sexy? It was no wonder the watch had ended up in her hands. She deserved everyone doing what she said. That was right and natural.

  Men and women would do what she wanted anyway, just to see a smile on her gorgeous face. The watch only sped things up, that was all.

  The doorbell rang. Upon checking the door, she saw that it was Belle and Katie. Warren's assistants.

  How...strange. What was this about?

  They were dressed, as Melinda had often seen them, in matching outfits. Belle's gorgeous (though fake, Melinda noted) tits were constrained in a tight pink tank top, hot yellow skinny pants riding up just to the point of her hips. Katie wore, in turn, bright pink short shorts with a midriff-baring tube top that neatly showed off her lusciously shaped, modestly sized chest.

  Melinda noted with satisfaction that even with all their showing off, she was much more attractive than either of them.

  “Hello, dears. Can I help—”

  They rushed inside, pushing open the door.

  “We’ve got something so important to talk to you about,” said Belle.

  Katie nodded. “Super important. We really need to sort it out right away.”

  They each wore tall platform sandals, clopping loudly on Melinda's tile floors.

  “I’ll bite. What is it?”

&
nbsp; “Well it’s just—”

  “—It’s Mas-Warren, isn’t it?”

  “Right, Warren. Him. The Him. I mean, you know Him.”

  Melinda could hear their capitalization. Their faces had become a little glazed, talking about him. She began to laugh.

  Did Warren really believe that Melinda wouldn't already have suspected he'd use the watch on Katie and Belle? She knew him too well for that. The only reason he even hired Belle was because he and Melinda had stopped fucking him, and Belle was merely an imitation—though a lovely one, Melinda had to admit—of Melinda.

  The girls didn't seem to understand why she was laughing, both of them sharing the same confused look.

  “Oh, he didn’t think this through, did he?” She tsked. “You poor dears. He fucked your minds too thoroughly to really be any good at something like this, I think.”

  Belle gulped. “He doesn’t know...I mean I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re not Master’s toys.”

  “No,” said Katie. “Not His toys at all. Or his pets. Or his fuckdolls. Or his little cockslut servants...”

  They had started leaning into one another. Holding hands intently, Katie dragged Belle's hand up her bare thighs, letting out a soft moan.

  “Right.” Melinda nodded, very serious. “I believe you.”

  “You do?” They said it unison, eyes lighting up.

  “Of course,” she lied. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Oh, that’s great. He’ll be so excited,” said Belle.

  She apparently didn’t notice her faux paus.

  Melinda smiled. It was a luscious, beautiful thing, even with as predatory as she made it. “Now, you’re here about the watch, is that right?”

  “Are we...did we say that?”

  They hadn’t, of course. “Of course you did,” said Melinda. “You need that watch.”

  “Right!” Belle nodded. “So we can all...have our revenge on him!”

  “Yeah!” said Katie. “And really suck his cock to show him what’s what!”

  Belle elbowed Katie hard. As if she had merely slipped, instead of revealing everything in its entirety. These were not the best spies to send on a diplomatic mission such as this.

  Melinda giggled. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh yes,” Belle breathed, looking at the watch still held in Melinda's hands. “We’re totally serious. We want to show him what’s what. And he's got such a cock to show.”

  The engraving on the watch was rather pretty, Melinda decided. Elegant and simple. An eye inside of a sun. It looked Egyptian. Perhaps it was some ancient heirloom? But then, how would the Egyptians have had a watch? Perhaps some watchmaker long ago who had stumbled upon a book of Egyptian spells?

  There were other types of hieroglyphics as well, of course. Other ancient societies. It was rather cliche of her, wasn’t it, to assume Egyptian. It could have been Malasian, or Peruvian, or Aztec...any number of sources.

  Or even something from another world. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it worked.

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  The two looked at one another and shrugged. “Of course.”

  “I think my idiot husband sent you here after me.” She held up the watch. “I think he sent you after this. Didn’t he?”

  Immediately they tried to shield their eyes, guard themselves and back away. Melinda swung the watch slowly, undeterred.

  “Don't worry, girls. You don't have to worry. Just look at me.”

  Katie, always rather dim, tried to peek. “Did you put it away? Because—oh.”

  Immediately, her face and body went slack.

  “Take Belle's arm down.”

  Instantly, Katie pulled Belle’s arm down, ignoring her lover’s protests. The effect was instant.

  The two stood, dazed and smiling, staring wide-eyed as the watch fried their tiny, hypnotized minds.

  “You two are my slaves now,” said Melinda. “You were always meant to be. Always. Never anyone else’s. Never, ever. Always mine. Never Warren’s. Only mine. Even when you pleased him. It was all for me. All for me. Everything is just for me. You know it’s true. It’s always been true. Nothing else could be more true. Everything in this world exists solely for me.”

  She waited for them to repeat it, and then remembered herself. That wasn’t how it worked. They had to be told to say it back.

  And she wanted to be told that. She wanted to hear it from them—what she deserved. What she had earned for her efforts. Didn’t she fucking deserve some hot babe slaves doting on her? Why not? She was a fucking hot babe herself, she ought to have whatever she wanted.

  “Repeat after me, girls,” Melinda began, still swinging the watch. “You are my slaves...”

  * * * * *

  Back in the warehouse, it was late in the evening and Warren looked over the note that Melinda had delivered to him. The note was harsh, articulate, and stunning—just like Melinda, so of course it was:

  Next time you send your sluts after me, make sure you haven’t made them dumb as rocks beforehand. Belle used to be so sharp. I admired how much she loathed you. I think I’ll bring that version of her back, and better than ever. It was rather mean of you to make her true colors go away like that.

  Oh, and IF you send anyone after me again, I’ll come over there and have you wearing diapers within the hour. I know you had to try something, just to see if it would work. It didn’t. It won’t. Try it again, and you’ll never be able to say anything more complicated than the first few lines of baby’s first book.

  “I should have known,” he shook his head. “Melinda knew about the watch ahead of time yesterday. I thought she saw me fucking you, but she must have assumed that Belle and Katie were in on it too. Or maybe they just weren’t...weren’t... trained well enough.”

  It was all going to hell.

  Around him, his remaining girls—Tasia, Catherine, Edith, and Joan waited patiently for him to command them. He let the note fall to the ground, and it was Joan who picked it up and read it. Edith and Joan had showed up just a few moments after Warren sent Katie and Belle out on their mission. Quickly, he had filled them in—not caring anymore, really, whether Joan knew she had been transformed into his complete hypno-slut or not. It wasn't as if she could do anything about it.

  His lovely sister wore tight leather pants and a sexy, form-fitting white jacket. Edith was in one of her characteristically flirty outfits—showing off her tits in a tiny blue tank top with cut-off jean shorts. Little cowboy boots were on her incredibly tanned legs.

  Catherine and Tasia had gotten dressed, in a manner of speaking. Both of them wore assistant outfits—tight spandex leotards showing off their devastatingly sexy forms.

  “War...” Joan coughed. “Master, I don't understand. Why can't we just leave it alone? Do you need that watch, really? I mean...we're all so happy to serve you.”

  He shook his head. She didn't understand.

  Of course, a normal man might have been satisfied with these four beautiful women doting on his every waking action, but Warren was quickly realizing he was no normal man. He wanted it all, and damn the consequences. Tasia and Edith were completely hypnotized in his name, but Joan was only slightly so, and Catherine was there purely because she wanted to be.

  What if Melinda came after them? What if she wasn't content with what she had? Why would she be? She already clearly deserved so much...and she had enough arrogance to know it.

  There was nothing left to do. Melinda knew everything. Nothing but...but...

  “There is one solution left for us,” he realized suddenly.

  The girls brightened, in almost perfect unison saying, “Yes, Sir?”

  He walked them to the back of the warehouse, toward his “solution.” Opening the door, he revealed the small space inside—completely bare, completely white. In the middle of the room was a small box, where a subject would sit and close themselves in. There was a hole at the top for a neck; the idea was, the
n, that whoever sat there wouldn't be able to see anything but the stark, blank whiteness of the room.

  “This is the White Room. It’s an experiment of mine.”

  He had never told anyone about the White Room. Not even Melinda. He didn’t want to show her anything that wasn’t already a success. It was the sort of environment she encouraged. Belle and Katie had found it, but unless Melinda asked, she wouldn't know about it either—and those two hadn't even known what it does.

  “What does it do?” asked Joan.

  He bit one lip. It would have to be Joan, he realized. Melinda would never think Joan was on his side. Tasia and Catherine, she had probably already seen. And Edith would have been too easy to dismiss. No, it would have to be Joan.

  “It would...it would wipe your mind clean,” he explained. “For a while. Not forever. But it would clear out your subconscious. You’d have nothing in your head except for my thoughts. My will.”

  Catherine nodded slowly. He could see the prospect excited her.

  “That sounds a lot like the watch,” said Catherine.

  “It is. But the watch reshapes the subconscious, I think. Forming it to the user’s will. This just...pushes the subconscious away, for a little while. Gives it a vacation. All that’s left is whatever I say. No conscious. No subconscious. Just blind obedience.” He turned to Joan. “I want you to do this for me, Joan.”

  “That sounds...a little scary.” Joan squeezed his hand. “Are you sure it’s safe, Warren?”

  “What I think,” he said stolidly, “is that it’s the only way to get the watch back from Melinda. And we have to do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s what I want, Joan. Don’t you want to do what I want?”

  “Y-yes.” She smiled prettily. Trying to disarm him. “Of course, Warren. You’re my brother. I want to help. It’s just...I don’t know why it’s so important.” She waved her hands at the crowd gathered around him. The beautiful, scantily clad crowd. “I mean, Tasia still is just nuts about you. Catherine, who like, I just met, is singing your praises and wants your cock down her throat all the time. That was like the second thing she ever said to me.” She shook her head. “So I mean, Belle and Katie might be working for Melinda, but she might give them back to you. And Edith and I are still here, and we just adore you. So can’t that be enough?”