Taking Total Control: A Mesmerizing Bundle

by Nadia Nightside

  “What you did to Joan, in the White Room...it really fascinated me.”

  “Oh?”

  On the mattress, Joan was finally stirring. Edith immediately snuggled harder into her. The two of them were really quite cute together.

  “I mean,” she bounced slightly, “I want you to use the watch on me.”

  “I know that, love. And I will.”

  Tasia stroked a little harder now.

  “But not just that,” said Catherine. “I don’t want just the watch. I want you to try something with me.”

  “I’m...” he huffed slightly, using his palm to slow Tasia's efforts. “...I'm listening.”

  “I...I want you to see what happens when you use the watch with the white room.”

  There was a light bulb humming overhead. It must have distracted Warren, made him daydream, because he acted as though he couldn’t have possibly heard what he just heard.

  “You...why?”

  “Because I’m tired of my mind fucking with what I really want. And what I really want, what I’ve always wanted, is to submit. Totally. And I don’t want my mind getting in the way of that anymore. I don’t want any doubts. I don’t want any stupid morality or religion getting in my way. I want to wipe my mind with a fucking sponge, and then rebuild a temple to yourself so that I’ll never, ever think of doing anything that isn’t your will again.”

  Warren’s cock was rock hard at this pronouncement. Precum spurted happily into Tasia's face. She gobbled it down with happy, slobbering sounds.

  “I’d have to...set it up, I think.”

  He didn't need much more encouragement. Within the hour, he had the new system set up to his liking.

  The watch wouldn’t work after the White Room did its work—as Joan had proven when she took the watch from Melinda. So, what Warren set up was the watch on a long string of fishing wire. It was connected to the ceiling, and then to the door again, so that Warren could ensure it kept swinging by twisting and turning the doorknob on the outside.

  After it was all set up, Catherine, heart racing, entered the White Room.

  An empty mind. A mind devoted purely to service. She had never been so wet in her entire life.

  She knelt down in the box in the middle of the room. There was a small pillow inside for her knees. Another pillow at the back of the hole for her head to keep her neck supported. Above her was the watch. She saw it start to swing, slowly, ever so slowly, as the door clinked shut behind her.

  Warren's voice came through on the intercom. “The session begins now.”

  It was funny, thought Catherine. She didn’t feel anything yet. She heard the thrumming in the room, of course. The somewhat primal waves of thumps and piston engine sounds around her. But she didn’t feel anything.

  She didn’t feel anything.

  She didn’t feel...anything.

  Nothing at all.

  Nothing.

  Nothing...but...

  There was nothing but the void. The empty, white, perfect little void. She could have been inside of it for days. For seconds. For years. For hours. She lost a sense of time, and then she lost the sense that she should know what time is. It was all whiteness. All emptiness.

  Her mind was the void.

  Her brain was the void.

  She was the void.

  No, simpler than that:

  The void was.

  Sounds entered the tiny room. The bottom part of her face was wet with drool. A watch appeared in front of her—she did not recognize it. Did not recognize the shape, the function, or the color or the texture or any of it. It began to swing, shining bright, perfect lights.

  And Catherine slowly was reborn.

  * * * * *

  After thoroughly mindfucking Catherine, the gathered gang re-located to Tasia’s house, which was a small one-story.

  It seemed like a safer place to be. Melinda didn’t know yet about Tasia or Catherine—and with Catherine, there was always the threat of more police coming by to ask about her. Warren didn’t yet trust the gorgeous young redhead to make a call in to quit her job, even though she gleefully offered to be tied up again when he decided to move. She now considered talking to Warren to be obeying orders—and as such, orgasmed as she did so. Her body was in a constant state of heightened, regulated bliss.

  “Place her there, yes.” He pointed, indicating to Tasia and Edith. “On the bed. Prepare the master bedroom for the rest of us. I’ll want to enjoy you all very soon.”

  Tasia made sure Catherine was safe and warm under the blanket, her body still orgasming ceaselessly, and nodded. “Yes, Sire.”

  Warren removed his clothes, and ordered the other girls to do the same once they had gathered into the master bedroom. There had been time enough with them decorated. Right now, he wanted every last one of them naked. He wanted to spend the entire night learning every inch of their perfect skin.

  “Joan,” he said, a smile on his face. “I want you to—”

  The doorbell rang. Joan's face immediately filled with exasperation.

  “Don't answer it, Master,” she implored him. “Let me worship you. Let me worship my brother as he deserves. Please? Pretty please, Sire?”

  He sighed. Her hands were so soft around his neck...but he had to see who it was, at least. Leaving the girls in the master bedroom, he peeked outside—and saw that it was Belle and Katie at the door. They wore tiny silk robes—Melinda's robes—and tall heels, displaying their long, perfectly shaped legs. Curious. He retreated to the bedroom and grabbed the watch so that it was safe in his hands, and then returned and opened the door.

  “What,” he said, not caring at all that he was naked in front of them, “are you doing here, ladies?”

  Belle and Katie looked guiltily at one another, mincing in their platform heels.

  “We followed you,” Belle said, by way of explanation. “We didn’t know what else to do. We were so lost without you.”

  “Lost?” he laughed.

  “Your will was too, too strong, Sire. Your words. She didn’t know what she was doing, not really.”

  “Yes, Sire,” Katie nodded. She shifted her robe to one side, showing her cleavage. “She was like some amateur football player in a professional ice skating rink. Her control wasn't as good as yours. You thought it was the watch—we both did, but...”

  “But,” said Belle, “really, it was you all along. The watch helped, but it just awakens your natural power. Your real power. It's not the watch at all.” She looked at it pointedly. “It's just you.”

  It was a damned tempting thought. He gestured for them to come inside, and they did so right away. Belle kept talking, gulping as she did.

  Of course, he knew it was some kind of lie. If they were really still under his control, as they said, then why hadn't they dropped to their knees? Why weren't they drooling in his presence like all the rest of his good girl slaves?

  “We can go back to her, Sire,” said Belle. “Put her under. Put her back in your control, where she belongs. Won’t you let us? If you’ll let us have the watch, we’ll make sure of it for you.”

  Katie nodded. “We can make it all happen for you, Sire.”

  Ah, so that was the play. Did Melinda really think he was going to be fooled by the same failed trick that he had tried? With the same failures who tried it? She really didn't think much of him. Disappointment arranged itself around his heart, and he shook his head sadly, holding up the watch.

  “No. I think I’ll make sure of you two, first.”

  They tried, of course, to resist and put up their arms—but it was not enough. He swung the watch easily, wiping their minds again. Katie's robe fell to the floor, revealing her absolutely naked body before Warren. With them safely tranced, he shut the front door. Probably with so many repeated indoctrinations, Belle and Katie would need good dose of the White Room themselves, soon. Just to clear out any outside motivations.

  He quickly wiped away their allegiance to Melinda—a simple thing, truly, she had
done a rather botchy job of re-aligning their loyalties—and had them slide into each other’s arms before him.

  His attention was so focused on them, though, that he did not see nor hear Melinda sneaking up from behind him until it was too late. One moment, he was holding the watch, re-entrancing Belle and Katie, and the next—

  The next—

  The next moment—

  —took ages—

  His mind blinking in and out of consciousness—

  —as it was reformatted—

  —to the sound of Melinda's voice—

  —his Mistress's voice—

  —and he was kissing Melinda's beautiful feet. She was so beautiful. So beautiful. How could he ever betray such a beautiful, perfect creature?

  “Line them up in here,” she said to Belle. “Bring them all before me. I want them all to watch what I've done to their 'Master.'”

  Warren knew remotely that he was talking about him. But it didn't make sense. He was no one's Master. He was a servant. He belonged to Melinda. Beautiful, perfect Melinda, and—

  Catherine was there, brought in by Belle. He witnessed as Melinda tried to use the watch on her, but it had no effect. None. The gorgeous redhead simply shook her head.

  “You can't wipe the mind of the faithful, you stupid bitch.” Catherine smiled. “I belong to him, my God, in every way.”

  And then they fought, banging against one wall and then the other in the house. Pictures crashing down, shelves smashing. Warren stood up to help, but he didn't know how. His Mistress hadn't commanded it. If she would only say something...

  “Warren!” Melinda's voice was strained. Catherine had the watch, smiling triumphantly. “Take it from her! Do it now!”

  Finally, an order! He rushed after the redhead, but she swung the watch and—

  And—

  The next moment—

  The next moment took—

  —ages—

  —and he returned to himself.

  First he noticed his fingers, totally under his control. He remembered everything. Melinda entrancing him for nearly an hour, trying to rewrite his brain to serve her and her alone. He could still feel traces of her in there, her lusciously perfect voice cooing to him, urging him to obey, obey, obey...

  But Catherine, beautiful Catherine, had been able to resist. Because of her love for him. Because of what they had done to her in the White Room.

  “Good girl,” he said, standing up slow. His legs were a little unsteady. “Good girl, Catherine.”

  She handed the watch to him, her pussy obviously throbbing with orgasm, and moaned hotly as he kissed her plush, pink lips.

  “Thank you, S-Sir,” she breathed. “I only wanted to make you happy. To make you in charge.” She turned to Melinda, Belle, and Katie, who were kneeling on the ground. “I left Melinda's mind in tact for you, Sire. So that you could do whatever you wanted. She's just immobilized, is all. And waiting for your command.”

  He grinned. “Good girl.”

  All the girls were in the living room now. Lined up for him. Totally naked. Tasia had taken it upon herself to put on a black velvet collar, but among them, she was the only one with any decoration. The cunts of Edith, Joan, Belle, Katie, and Tasia all pulsed with need as they looked up at Warren. He had Catherine kneel next to them—all his lovely beauties in a row. His cock returned to full hardness again almost instantly.

  What Melinda had done to him was understandable—she was only trying to protect herself. In a certain kind of way, he even admired it. The sneak attack certainly showed more respect to him than did what he thought was her actual attempt—that of just using Belle and Katie again.

  Bending over, he took Melinda's chin in one hand, looking deep into her beautiful green gaze.

  Her voice was a venomous sneer. “Hello, husband.”

  “Wife.”

  These were the terms the two had come to.

  “I'm allowing you to move,” he said.

  She straightened up, his words having an immediate effect. “Thank you for that.”

  Even so, she remained kneeling before him.

  “You’re not very smart,” he said. “Coming straight here to me like that.”

  “Maybe not,” she sighed. “It almost worked, though. I didn't expect your redhead to be so...stubborn.”

  “And now I've won.”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t seem worried. Why wasn’t she worried? Didn’t she know what he was going to do to her?

  “I’m going to change you, Melinda. However I want.”

  “I’m aware that you’ll...that you want that. Yes.”

  “You don’t think I will?”

  She raised a carefully countenanced eyebrow. “I have a counter-offer.”

  “Oh?” he laughed. “What might that be? You're going to be my fuckslave from now on. Whenever I want you, I'm going to have you. I'm going to fuck you full of me, Melinda. I'm going to stuff you until you're pregnant.”

  Previously, he would have hated the distaste on her face. Now, he found himself enjoying it—as he was going to change that response soon.

  “Does it have to be such a primitive relationship, my love?” Her eyes lit up as she saw his face from her words. “You do love me, don’t you? And I love you...I truly do. You’ve given me all I could ever want. So much power, you have now. So much wealth. Wasn’t it really, all along, all of this, just for me?”

  “I...Melinda.” He shook his head.

  “I don’t mind all that about Joan. Oh yes, it’s taboo. And very, isn’t it? But truly, why have her when you could have me? She never gave you the time of day. She never once liked you. I did. If you use the watch on me, you’d be walking all over that.”

  He could do that. God, it was tempting. To have her beside him as he owned others. His partner in crime. His lover. His wife. His manipulator. She was so beautiful. The thought of her wanting all the things he wanted—if he could just trust her...

  Her hands slowly moved toward the watch, and he felt himself not caring. Fuck it, to give up control was tempting at this point. What he thought turned him on was controlling others—dominating—but what it really was simply came down to control. The abstract notion of control, no matter who held it. No matter how it shifted or changed, moved around or mutated. One person owning another totally was hot to Warren.

  “Master?”

  It was Catherine who spoke. Her pale, voluptuous form like some rococo angel in the bright light of the house. Her pussy spasmed constantly, orgasm after orgasm flooding through her body, her mind.

  “Master, don’t do that. Please? You are...you are God. You cannot let her take that away from you. Please, don’t? It’s so perfect for you to rule us all.”

  Hearing her voice, it was like a fog lifted from his brain. She was right, of course.

  Control was sexy. But his control was best of all. And he couldn’t give that up. Not for forever.

  “Tasia,” said Warren, “Edith. I want you to restrain my wife.”

  In unison: “Yes, Sir.”

  Not strictly necessary—but it was a nice visual. Their naked bodies pressing in on Melinda's. They dragged her into the corner, and his cock, hard and ready, waited to finally enter her.

  “No.” Melinda shook her head, struggling mightily against the two. “Warren, no. You can’t do this. You can’t. I’m your wife. Despite all this. Is this what you really want? Some fucking...some slave? You can’t. That’s not you, Warren. It’s not. We’ve been through too much. I know I hurt you, I know I did, but we can work it out, can’t we?”

  “Melinda,” Warren shook his head. “I need you to understand something before we go any further.”

  “Of course, dear.” She nodded fervently, as if he was giving in again. “Anything.”

  “Identity—how we treat ourselves? It’s just memory. And I can change anyone’s, now. Joan’s. Yours. I can make Joan, and you, act any way I want. I don’t have to work it out with you. I don’t have to for
give you. I don't have to be forgiven by you. I can just erase it all. All that anguish can be gone in a moment...and will be.”

  Melinda tried again to back away—but Tasia and Edith held her firm.

  Warren smiled, and started to swing the watch one more time. “And you, none of you, will be able to do anything about it.”

  * * * * *

  Melinda and Joan lay before him on the bed, their beautiful bodies totally naked. In the dim light of the bedroom, they looked almost like sister. The other slaves had gathered around the bed, on their knees, softly praying to their new Master. Catherine, Belle, Katie, Tasia, and Edith—all of them absolutely as under his control as Melinda and Joan now were.

  He had won. Now, it was time to celebrate.

  Other nights, he knew already that he would take whoever struck his fancy that day. He'd set them to competing for his attention. But not tonight.

  Tonight was special. Tonight was a victory. Tonight was purely about Melinda and Joan, the two women who had fucked up his thoughts for longer than any other.

  His cock was long and hard already, dripping precum down on Joan's legs, and then Melinda's, and then Joan's again. They giggled merrily, sliding the thick substance of it up and down their shiny, youthful skin.

  “What may I call you?” Melinda asked. “I want to call you the right thing.”

  “What did you have mind?”

  “There are so many titles. So many thoughts. All good ones. I cannot decide. Your name is too...too intimate. Especially for these other ears.” She cast a rather arrogant glance toward the other slaves left off the bed. “But Master is so perfect, but then, they all call you Master. I could call you Daddy?” she suggested idly. “My paternal, intimate owner. Or perhaps Husband. Or God.”

  “He is God,” Catherine insisted.

  “Or Sire,” Melinda continued effortlessly. “Or Lord. Or King. So many options to choose from. I don’t know how I’ll ever narrow them all down to just one.”

  “Why need it be one at all?” Joan asked. Her feet came up on his torso, sliding around down and getting her feet slick against his cock.

  “Of course.” Melinda smiled indulgently, tweaking her nipples in anticipation. “My LordKing. My MasterDaddy. My GodHusband. You are all those things, aren’t you? Oh yes.”