The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey, Brooooooke? Where are those projections that I told you to run?” Grace’s belittling tone dripped with an especially foul form of cruel mischief as she leaned into Brooke’s office. It was somehow more obtrusive that she opened it without a knock and stuck her head in than if she’d knocked and without pause stepped in more fully. “Because I really need those numbers. A-SAP. Pronto. All those other words. I’m sure you’ve got a thesaurus on that computer.”

Behind her desk Brooke stiffened but did her best not to show it. She adjusted her glasses and took a deep, slow breath while moving her body as little as possible. Another of Grace’s interruptions was the last thing she needed. “Miss Wyrwal, the first half of them is already in your inbox—“

Grace tisked, even going so far as to wag her finger at the other woman. “I don’t need half of them, or I only would have asked for them. All of them, Brooke! Pronto! Chopy-chop!”

Brooke opened her mouth to reply, but her office’s door was already slamming shut.

She wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of a prison cell clicking shut or a protective forcefield shutting Grace out. I suppose it’s both, really. Some days I think she pulled strings to get me this office just so she could have space to invade.

The Wayland Group had been an amazing job that Brooke had been thrilled and overjoyed to land right out of college. She was the first woman in her family to graduate anything beyond high school, and the pay was enough that her student loans had somehow managed to look reasonable in hindsight. Every interview had stressed that the company was big on promoting from within, which was why they paid so well for lower positions like the one she’d found herself in.

Then she’d met Grace.

Brooke shook her head as she tried not to think of how the woman seemed to live to find some new way to step on her. The first year at Wayland had been fine. Brooke had impressed everyone with her quick speed and accuracy. Being near the bottom rung of accounting wasn’t glamorous, but it had made Brooke happy.

Then Grace showed up. She’d been assigned to the same group as Brooke. Even though she seemed to spend more time talking with management than doing her work she still managed to take credit for everyone else’s productivity.

At first Brooke had assumed it had plenty to do with her long blonde hair, bright sparkly gray eyes with long luxurious eyelashes, porn star curves, and the way she kept a tan all year round.

Then she’d learned the CFO being Priscilla Wyrwal wasn’t just a coincidence.

If I ever have to hear that Grace inherited her mother’s gift for numbers again I think I might puke on the spot. Brooke grumbled as she continued the work she’d been doing when Grace had interrupted her. Does she even consider that if I send her an email to update her on my status and give her some of what she needs coming by my office might only slow me down?

A harsh breath blew black hair from in front of Brooke’s lenses as she continued to transfer numbers from one database into a spreadsheet and run through formulas. The last thing she’d wanted when she took the job was to end up as the personal assistant for a woman like Grace.

It wasn’t her official title, but it seemed to be how things worked out. It’s not like I can look for something else in this economy that will be as good. Just gotta knuckle through…

Fifteen minutes later she sent off the last of the spreadsheets with a tired sigh. She already knew that getting them to Grace so quickly would end up with the blonde receiving another round of applause. The worst part was the ding that informed her of the reply email.

It was from Grace, but Brooke hadn’t needed to check the ‘from’ line to see that.

Great work, Brooke!

Now if you could just see about getting these done faster, I wouldn’t need to keep poking you in your office! I know you can do faster. So do faster.

Just don’t let your accuracy drop? Or we might have a problem? And nobody wants that.

I’m expecting great things from you! ;)

-Grace Wyrwal

Brooke ignored the signature line in all of the company emails, and struggled to just reply with a message that said ‘thank you’ as much as it said as little as possible. Grace’s request had taken time that Brooke had planned to spend on much more important reports that marketing was demanding yesterday, and others that HR was expecting a week ago.

With a sigh, she adjusted her glasses and mentally prepared herself to stay late. Having a salaried position was great.

Expected overtime was just one of the unspoken side effects.

The office started emptying early, so Brooke wasn’t terribly surprised to be one of the few people left when she took a brief break to grab a cup of coffee. It was old and flat, but still had enough of a kick to keep her going. The pot was hers this time of night, and she was keenly aware of it. When she looked at the clock again it was half an hour later and she was increasingly sure almost no one was left.

The last thing Brooke needed to do for the day was balance her department’s budget. It usually didn’t take so long, but numbers kept changing as she worked them. Things just weren’t adding up.

Her memory was hardly photographic, but she was sure that at least twice numbers had actively changed during her work. That’s impossible though. At least… unless…

She shook her head, and continued to work the numbers. It should not have been so difficult. Then, simple as could be, she saw it. There were other irregularities, smaller ones, but those just accounted for why she kept worrying she’d somehow overlooked something after a decimal one too many times.

It shows there’s someone else working my job, too, but after Kathy left that spots been vacant! Who even got this to show up in the database? Already Brooke had an idea but didn’t want to believe it was a possibility.

A few quick clicks later and she traced the paths back to Grace. She’d opened another position, and somehow filled it without any other department being aware. All of that money that should have been the salary of someone making Brooke’s life easier by splitting the workload seemed to just be evaporating into thin air.

If there had been a quiet inside promotion she would have heard about it. Just to make sure, she looked over the other personnel files. No one new was shifting positions. No excuses.

That was the ammo that Brooke had been waiting for. It was something that no one would be able to ignore. Grace misappropriating funds wasn’t a small thing. It looked newly done, too, and rather sloppy. Her login was still clearly attached in all of the wrong places for an easy cover up.

She created a new email and hesitated as she watched the blinking cursor. No. No if I… If I send this off without every screenshot, every bit of proof that I can get… I have to be thorough.

It was too easy to remember so many mistakes that management had overlooked. Grace had backup. Grace had Priscilla. For all Brooke could be sure, Priscilla was involved.

Highlighting the discrepancy Brooke returned to the spreadsheet. If she could proof that there was no other major displacement it would make for a stronger case when she pointed to her proof. Then of course she’d have to make sure that there were no tiny mistakes or she’d never live it down. It meant that she would be there much later than she wanted to be, but if everything went well she imagined putting in for some time off might not be unexpected.

Plus, work without Grace? Oh that sounds like a dream! I might even get that promotion I’ve deserved for over a year…

She quickly downed the last of the coffee she’d fetched earlier. Then, Brooke was once again lost deep in her work. No fact could be checked too many times. Nothing could be documented too thoroughly. She barely looked away from her screen as her office filled with the sounds of furious typing and deft mouse clicks.

The sounds were not loud, but they were enough to cover the quiet sound of her door opening and falling shut.

It took Grace’s voice for her arrival to be noticed. It took nothing more than that to turn Brooke’s blood cold. “Brooke! Or should I say Miss Howard? You’re here pretty late. It wasn’t on any of the work that I assigned you, was it? I hardly want to be costing you sleep. Though it is a bit early to sleep, isn’t it?”

Brooke froze, her finger holding down a ‘5’ for entirely too long before she released it. She glanced at her clock. Another half hour. Seven thirty. There would be no one else in the office.

It was a Tuesday. The janitorial staff wouldn’t even be there.

“N-no, Miss Wyrwal! Just… just finishing up some other work. I won’t be here much longer! Just need to send off a few documents…” Brooke struggled against the ice that froze her solid with panic. The timing was too perfect. No matter how much she wanted to convince herself it was a coincidence it didn’t work.

It didn’t help that Grace was leaning back against her closed door. It was the one way out of her office. Even the one time that Brooke found some power to grab over Grace it seemed to turn around so fast.

“Then you won’t mind leaving now?” Grace raised a perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow. It felt as much like an invitation as a threat. “You really shouldn’t stay so late. Working long hours can wear you out, Miss Howard. It can leave you vulnerable. Weak. Susceptible to so many nasty things that I would just… hate to happen to you.”

That was definitely a threat. Vulnerable? Weak? I’m not sure what it’s a threat of, but that doesn’t make it less of a threat. Brooke closed her teeth around her lip. She looked at her screen. If she left now she knew nothing would be where it was when she got back.

She also knew how smart it would be to refuse Grace’s request.

“I really only need another… five minutes. Then I’ll be gone! I’ll even drop by your office so you know when I’m leaving, if you’d like. I just… really need to finish this, Miss Wyrwal.” Her voice shuddered with poorly concealed dread. There was no way she could pretend that Grace was blissfully unaware when she began to grin.

Why she would look so pleased was confusing, but there seemed no other explanation for it. She grinned like that at times. The reason was always some clever jab that could seem innocent.

Only one possibility felt reasonable. “That’s really too bad. You’re looking very tired. We’ve really been overworking you lately. Have you gotten home on time at all this month? I’d be surprised if you had!” Grace’s grin grew as she slowly stepped closer, her hips swaying with an almost flirty rhythm as she neared the other woman’s desk.

Nothing in her tone was apologetic. If anything she sounded delighted at the long hours of hard work she’d inflicted on Brooke. It wasn’t a new sentiment, but for the first time it felt so honest.

It almost sounded like a confession.

“Especially since I’ve been, oh, I don’t know, making sure you’ve been staying late. You work hard, and fast, but everyone has limits! Even you! Even special little Brooke Howard. Little miss top of her class, rising up out of the poor side of town. That is you, isn’t it? Poor, tired, overworked little Brooke Howard. Staying in so late, showing up early, or at the very least, always on time… You work just so hard for this company, don’t you?

“It must just kill you when someone else gets all of the credits for your accomplishments.” Grace’s voice took on an almost musical tone as she reached Brooke’s desk. She rested her hands on the hard faux wood surface and leaned forward with a dramatic sigh. “Especially when it’s someone like me, born with a silver spoon, huh?”

Brooke stared at Grace, suddenly wishing her monitor blocked her view of the other woman. As always Grace was magnificently dressed in business professional that Brooke imagined was tailor made. Her jacket was white, same as her skirt. Even crisp it was flattering.

The undershirt she wore was a gentle sky blue, and Brooke only noticed too late that one too many buttons were open. She blushed and looked away as soon as she realized she’d been staring. Grace’s endowments were hardly something of which Brooke was unaware. Far too often she noticed her own much more subtly curved chest and bemoaned yet another way that an accident of birth had put Grace ahead of her.

If I had a chest like that maybe I wouldn’t need to work so hard to get noticed. Even if I wasn’t one of the big boss’s daughters… The thought was hardly a new one. Seeing her breasts so brazenly had been a new sight.

It might have occurred to her as odd if she wasn’t still panicking.

“It’s okay! You don’t have to say anything. You really don’t. I can tell, you know. It burns you up when your hard work gets me noticed!” Grace laughed. Brooke tensed, squeezing at her desk as she struggled to not react in some way she was sure could still end with her as the censured one instead of Grace. It was a hard pattern to break. Even with it exposed, the natural steps for Brooke to take were easy to slip into.

“I—“

“I said you don’t have to say anything. Besides, you’re way too tired from working so many long hours to have anything really helpful to say anyway! You’re worn out.” Brooke met Grace’s eyes. She failed to suppress her yawn, shaking head as if to try denying it after the fact.

Grace’s eyes hooded. The victory was again hers. Brooke sighed and slouched in her chair.

“Mm-hm! Just like I said! Poor little Brookie is all tired out! But it’s really not her fault. One of her bosses is a mean, cruel, wicked woman who puts her through the paces every time she gets a chance! Just to see her cricky-crack!” Grace grinned and leaned over Brooke’s desk. Again, she found her eyes drawn to the tanned cavernous sight of Grace’s cleavage.

Her breasts weren’t just large. They were so shapely. The sensuous way she kept moving her hips seemed to make them swing side to side just enough to be distracting. Another yawn fought its way from Brooke’s lips. She blinked.

It had taken much longer for her to remember to look away. She really hadn’t meant to stare. If I was even into women, I’d have better taste than to ogle someone like Grace.

When she did look away, Grace’s fingers were suddenly holding her chin. “Don’t look away from me when I’m talking, Brooke. You’re in enough trouble as it is.” Grace didn’t direct her face for their eyes to meet. Instead, Brooke found her bespectacled green eyes staring into the golden tan skin of Grace’s breasts.

“W-what the… heck… are you doing?” Brooke’s voice was more timid than she wanted it to sound as she struggled actively to turn her face away. The spoiled woman’s grasp was much stronger than she had anticipated. Struggling just made Brooke feel more pitiful.

“You don’t need to censor yourself with me, Brookie. This is all off the record! Just me? And you. And you, tired, sleepy, and weak, staring at my tits. Watching them sway. Watching them move side, to side, to side.” Grace’s voice flowed with a rhythm that matched the movement of her chest. Her fingers squeezed at Brooke’s chin in time with the cadence, holding her gaze so cruelly tight. “You’ve been overworked. Overworking. Giving all that you have to give. And now? Now you’re staring, and even knowing something is wrong, it’s making you tired and weak.”

Brooke frowned. “Yeah you have nice tits… I’ve noticed. Everyone notices. You don’t make it a secret… So what the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it sound like I’m doing?” Grace laughed as though Brooke had just asked her own name. “What does it look like I’m doing? Swaying my nice big, heavy tits. Tits is a nice word for them, don’t you think? Tits. My tits, swaying side to side, while you stare. While you stare, and it gets harder and harder for you to do anything but stare! What am I doing?

“I’m breaking you that last little bit of the way! I’ve been cricky-cracking you up since I started working here. Shaking my ass and getting promoted because of mommy. Dressing in the fanciest suits I can. And all of it has been making you so very, very tired. Exhausted. Worn down. Because you’re the up and comer who is supposed to make waves, but what waves can you make louder than mommy, or these nice soft tits? Waves? They just do this.”

Grace squished her breasts together using the sides of her arms, and then loosened them. The squeeze made her already impressive breasts threaten to rupture through the expensive, soft fabric. When released the way they jiggled and bounced in the confines of her bra almost made Brooke’s eyes cross.

I should just close my eyes, or stand up and walk away-

Fingers snapped loudly beside her ear, jolting Brooke back to the swaying breasts her face was still caught staring deeply between. “Pay. Attention. Brookie. This is important, okay? I know you dumb little poor girls have attention problems, but you can at least stare properly.”

Brooke stared wordlessly, her lips parted to speak without any words on the tip of her tongue. Graces words had struck something soft inside of her, a place almost soft as the swaying breasts taking up so much of her vision. They were so unfairly huge, with that uniquely fluid movement that made them so fun to watch.

“That’s better. You’re going to watch my breasts swing side to side like the worn out little thing you are. So tired. So weak. It’s not your fault, really. I’ve been playing you for awhiiiile. You never had a chance. It only makes sense that you’re losing to me like this.” Grace sighed disapprovingly as she leaned ever further over Brooke’s desk. “I’m just so privileged, and you’re so tired and weak, because I made you that way. And one of the ways I’m so high above you? Is because your mind is getting stick between my tits.”

Brooke groaned and shook her head weakly in her hold. “That’s not—“

Grace snapped her finger right beside Brooke’s other ear. Her eyes widened, and then began to hood anew as Grace’s breasts continued to sway in front of them. A glassy, distant quality shined over Brooke’s once so perceptive green eyes.

Again she parted her lips to try to form a retort.

Instead her lips fell shut with only a quiet mumble of disapproval.

“Shhh. Listen to your betters, you silly little Brookie-slut. That’s what you’re being when you try so hard to use what you can do to impress your betters, you know. You’re just a weak, tired little Brookie-slut. Struggling to keep your eyes open. Struggling to even think your own thoughts, and not just what I tell you to think. It probably would have helped if I hadn’t drugged that pot of coffee that only you would be able to tolerate drinking, but you’d still be a weak, tired, helpless slut.

“There’s nothing to do about that. Nothing at all, besides to squeeze the last stupid little parts of your mind away that think you get to think for yourself and make your own stupid little decisions! Because Brookie? That’s all over and done with now!” Grace laughed, clicking her tongue as she shook her head. “We’re gonna squish all those silly parts away once and for all!”

Brooke quietly whined. She struggled to pull her eyes back open. Their lids kept falling lower and lower all on their own but never quite shutting. That would block the view, and she couldn’t look away. She couldn’t stop staring and watching the way that Grace’s tanned tits reflected the light. She couldn’t stop watching the mesmerizing way that Grace’s beautiful breasts bounced back into place again and again but never quite the same way twice.

If she drugged me... Then… Then… I tried to fight, I tried really hard… I just… She won before we even started, didn’t she…? Brooke shook her head, steeling herself again as she gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me a—“

“Shut up, you stupid social climbing little slut!” Grace snapped her fingers again, back beside the first ear, and Brooke whined at the intensity of the sound. Her face was still tightly trapped in Grace’s hands. Grace’s grip on her chin was stronger than steel. Her neck was tired, and her eyes locked swinging in time with her superior’s superior assets. “Shut. Up. You had your time to talk, and you wasted it being a suck up who tried her best. Now your better is besting you.

“I have the better body. I have more money. I have the job you feel you deserve. I’m even younger than you. We’re going to put all of you, all of that stupid thinks-she-can-go-so-far Brookie… right… here.” Grace rested the tip of her pointer finger right at the center of her chest and sighed. “Keep that in mind, okay? Right. Here.”

Grace’s finger pulled back away. Her arms were already moving again, squeezing her breasts together tighter and tighter.

Brooke’s mouth fell open and twisted as her eyes opened wider. M-my mind… r-right… right… there… She moaned as she felt the weight of so much heavy supple flesh squeezing and squishing at her mind from every direction at once. Her lips trembled, and she shook as the last bright spark of cognizance in her eyes burned out.

Bright shining eyes stared mindlessly at Grace’s tightly squished bust as her arms fell away and her breasts continued their soft delicate swing. “There! Much, much better! Now we’ve cricky-cracked the Brookie-slut, isn’t that right?”

Only the faintest of moans trembled from Brooke’s lips. Nothing solid enough to call words. Nothing anyone would be able to classify as any form of disagreement.

“Much, much better. Now… To have some fun…”

The fading sound of Grace’s finger snap was the first thing that Brooke perceived as her reality came back into focus. She was on her knees. It was dark around her, but not oppressively. Light shined in, but not bright enough to illuminate the small place she found herself within.

Where… Everything is so… Slow… I can’t… Word… Good…?

Fingers slid through her hair and tugged. Hard. Brooke screamed and moved as the hand directed her to an open white skirt. Between tanned legs sat Grace’s very flush and tanned labia. The scent of her slick lust hammered into the place where Brooke expected her words to be. She could only manage a confused moan when her lips pressed into the slickness just below a strip of golden hair.

“See, Brookie? This is where a girl like you belongs. On her knees.” Grace pulled her more harshly against her sex, and quivered at the vibrations that Brooke’s moan sent through her. “Mmm-hm. We’re going to make up for a lot of lost time with you down there like a good little Brookie-slut. Now, just like I told you. Fuck me.”

Brooke screamed. Spreadsheets were maximizing in her mind, cells filled with instructions and formulas that she must obey. Like the hard worker she was her mind focused on the first cell, and worked its way through.

Her tongue moved along the wet folds of Brooke’s pussy along the paths that she could no longer remember being told. She suckled and pulled at the flesh of her shy inner lips as her nose teased at Grace’s clit. Every touch was as precise and passionate as the energy she put into each and every day working for Wayland Group.

Only the work she lost herself in between Grace’s legs was so much more fulfilling.

Everything was more.

Her taste, her voice, the hot stinging pain of her hand always pulling her hair just tight enough to be a constant painful reminder of Brooke’s lesser place… it all burned. Her cheeks were flush with embarrassment, but only as flush as her thighs. Grace was better, and it was Brooke’s natural place to be on her knees servicing her betters. That didn’t make her like it. That didn’t make it less humbling.

Even as her tongue fluttered and curled to find its next place to worship Brooke still loathed Grace. Everything she’d ever had was given to her. She was so demanding.

She broke me… She crushed my will in her tits... NNNnnn… I hate her… but…

Grace tugged on her hair, and Brooke moved her tongue moved to swirl around Grace’s throbbing clit. The moans that filled her ears ruined Brooke’s panties even more as her hips wiggled and her thighs clenched. I hate her, but I need her. I’m so weak, and she’s everything. She’s who broke me. She’s who claimed me. OOooh she’s so much when I’m so… little…

“Fuck you have a hot little tongue! Mmm I’d say you were lying when you said you’d never had pussy before if I didn’t know your dumb slutty mind was far to snippy-snapped to know how to do that by the time I asked! MMmm yea, your fingers now, Brookie! Don’t forget or I’ll have to punish you! I might nee-ooooh!—to punish you anyway just so you know what’s in store for you if you don’t behave. You might like that too much… NNnnn but that’s okay!” Grace’s voice fell into a mass of giggles and moans as her hips bucked quicker.

Tears burned in Brooke’s eyes as her lips suckled and her tongue flicked with an intensity she’d never given to anyone else. She’d had sex, even made love, but she’d never been broken and claimed before. All of that was something so much different.

Now Brooke knew all that she was amounted to nothing more than a slut. She was servicing her better, and each flick of her tongue, every movement of her long delicate fingers inside of Grace’s cunt reminded her of who she was and what that made her. Lesser. Weak. She’d been such a brat to try reaching beyond who she was, and now she was going to spend the rest of her life as Grace’s office slut.

Unless Grace wanted something else. Brooke couldn’t imagine that she would be able to refuse any of her commands or desires. That part of her was crishy-crushed.

Her knees already ached from kneeling on the hard tile of Grace’s office. It didn’t mean she could stop. It just added a sharp bitterness to the taste she frenziedly lapped at like it was her only hope. Even knowing it was damning her to many more hours on her knees it only made her moan and wiggle her hips more.

Grace won… and now I’m… OOoohnnnn her priiiize!

“MMmmm I might have you take some time off next week. Maybe some long lunches. You’re a valuable… Mmm ass-et but I might see if Mommy can’t make you my slutty little secretary. We can dress you like the slut you are and have you crawl under my desk after locking the door. Would you like that, Brookie slut? Would you like that?” Grace’s restrained cries dripped with her lustful satisfaction even with a lesser volume than her extreme pleasure called for.

Brooke tried to find it inside of herself to shake her head. She whined as the memory of the pressure Grace’s breasts had exerted on her mind returned in full force and channeled all of that to her lips and tongue. Grace’s cries soared higher before her voice cracked.

Hot sticky lust filled Brooke’s mouth and she surrendered. She didn’t shake her head or nod. Instead she just suckled, lapped, and moaned at the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Mmmm… mmm… Slow down… Mmm… That’s right. Not your choice is it?”

Brooke sniffled as she shook her head.

“Funny, I really didn’t think so either! There there, cutie-slut. I’ll take good care of you. Enough time on your knees and you might even start liking it!” Grace snorted a laugh as she grabbed up a tissue from her desk and rubbed it over Brooke’s face. “Probably not, though! But hey, maybe! You never know! I don’t particularly care if you like it or not. Just that you do what I tell you to do. That’s really what matters, Brookie-slut. Being an obedient little nothing!”

Instead of cleaning her face the movements of Grace’s tissue only served to smear her own juices and the signs of Brooke’s distress into her skin. She felt worse for the halfhearted attempt at caring, and held back the sound of a sob as it shook her body.

Why is this making me so wet?! I’m such a slut! She d-doesn’t care and still I’d do anything she asked! And love it! Brooke shook harder as Grace began to slowly stroke her hair.

She knew nothing about the touch was for her benefit. It was because Grace wanted to feel her hair. It was soft, if nowhere near as luxurious as Grace’s own. Brooke imagined herself wearing nothing but a collar under Grace’s desk—which was where she now realized she was—as that cruel hand stroked her.

Her pussy purred, and her nipples throbbed with a twisted excitement.

“I’ll probably get bored of being so mean, but who knows! You’ve been putting on airs for like… Way too long. How long have I worked here? Three? Five? Some amount of years like that. Too long. You’ll make it better.” Grace sighed, ruffling Brooke’s hair with a roll of her eyes. “I wanted a fun job, you know. Something like planning parties or something like that with more money behind it, but nope. Mommy said I needed to come work here for her. I guess we both know our place, huh?”

Brooke moaned sadly as she nodded. Her hands had moved to stroke at her breasts as the spreadsheet in her mind directed. They were small, not enough to fill her hands as she groped at her own chest, but Grace had commanded it.

She rubbed herself obediently, and shuddered as she felt it rubbing in all of the horrible truths that Grace had whispered to her tired, vulnerable mind.

“So, I took all of that out on you. Because you were the one that wanted this stupid piece of shit job. You’d actually be proud of it, and I’d rather throw it down the drain. Fuck you are just such trash how do you even live being you?” Grace rolled her eyes and pulled back her hand. “Don’t worry. You aren’t really living for you anymore and you’re way more useful to me alive.”

Brooke sobbed, unable to even shake her head in her horror.

“But I’d really rather get you home and see what you can do when I really let loose. So, time to sleep little Brookie-slut! I’ll wake you up for the good part.” Grace grinned.

The kneeling woman stiffened as if to prepare herself for a blow. When Grace flicked her fingernail at the center of Brooke’s forehead she barely let out a muffled groan as she came and collapsed in a heap.

Brooke didn’t even remember fingers snapping, but a part of her mind insisted that was the sound she’d just finished hearing. It was an indistinct truth like a blurry outline in fog, but it was all she had. She wasn’t in the Wayland Building anymore.

Her clothes were gone, too.

The room was warm, but her nipples stuck out from her chest puffy and yearning. She could feel new things cluttering up the messy space of her mind but not see what they were. She wasn’t allowed.

I don’t have read permission in my own mind… There’s no IT to call… Nnnn I can word better but… Brooke whimpered as she felt the spreader bar keeping her ankles spread so far apart. Her arms were encased in something strong and leather that held them together behind her back and didn’t leave much room to struggle.

She was kneeling in the middle of a large bed in a very fancy, very pink bedroom. It looked almost like a little girl’s bedroom if that little girl had grown up to be a pervert. Posters on the walls consisted of everything from bands, to fashion spreads, to women in far more complicated bondage than Brooke now found herself. Everything was fancy, pristine, and neatly arranged.

Brooke almost expected to see a white sign with pretty pink cursive announcing it as Grace’s room. She even shared the bed with lots of large fluffy pillows and several adorable small stuffed animals.

Grace was everything that Brooke had always thought of her as, and even worse.

Even so much worse than I thought, she’s still… better than… me… Brooke sniffled again. She tried to struggle physically for a moment before she felt something inside of her crack and shatter away. She was bricky-broken and the struggle had made those loose shattered pieces of her psyche fall fractured into the abyss that had swallowed up so much of her mind. She was afraid to watch them fall for being unable to follow them.

Brooke had never felt someone telling her she was more valuable alive could be so harrowing.

“Awww is my little Brookie-slut getting lonely? Sorry, I had to find this little toy. I haven’t used it since college, ya know? Mommy was very strict about me being responsible with sex in the workplace. Otherwise I would have bent Lisa over my desk like a thousand times by now and given her this.” Grace stepped into the room, but was preceded by a large, smooth featureless dildo that protruded from the black harness that so possessively hugged her groin. “A real pain in the ass, I’m sure you can imagine. Hmm.

“Why imagine? Brookie-slut?” Brooke whined pitifully in acknowledgement. “Bend over. You told me no one had taken you back there before. I should have enough lube…”

Without a moment of reluctance Brooke bent over and squeezed her eyes tight. Her ass was so high in the air, exposed and vulnerable. She was always vulnerable to Grace now but it felt more powerful to be so physically vulnerable too. When the first cool dollop of lube was rubbed into her ass Brooke whimpered again, and tried to grab for something that wasn’t there to hold inside of the bondage trapping her arms.

“Oh don’t worry. You’ll love it. Or I will. And that means that you’ll love it! It’s a new humiliation! Each first is special, isn’t it? We have so many to explore!” Grace stroked lube along the dark shaft of the dildo as though it were a part of her. “Mmm. I have been looking forward to this.

“You might have small, unimpressive tits? But you have a tight little ass. I might not be the first thing going inside of you, but I’m going to be the first one to hear the screams you make from taking your back door. Don’t worry. I won’t be gentle.” Grace climbed up onto her bed, and hooded her eyes as she rubbed more of the lube just inside of Brooke’s anus with the tip of her strapon.

Brooke whimpered, but offered no resistance.

Hands grabbed her hips and squeezed. Please… Please just get it over with. Break me there too. Just do it…! Brooke was silent as her mind’s panicked thoughts shuddered. Instead of hurrying for her first thrust Grace began to squeeze and knead at Brooke’s behind.

As she’d said Brooke’s ass was tight and small in all of the best ways. There was enough of it to hold and manipulate, but it had a firmness that yielded in a way that only a fit tush could manage.

“Oh… I am going to get a lot of fun out of this.” Brooke had finally begun to loosen up when without warning Grace thrust the hard tip inside of her ass. It wasn’t deep at first, but as Grace rocked her hips the hard length moved deeper and deeper. Brooke’s eyes opened wide with the invasion as she let out a strangled cry. She wanted to squeeze and stop it from going further, but that was another thing she wasn’t allowed to do. Instead her body loosened and the dildo moved deeper and deeper, stretching her in ways that she had never been stretched.

Sounds oozed and dribbled past her lips in a cross between agony and pleasured gibbering. Every time that Grace pushed deeper more of Grace’s superiority slammed down on Brooke like a stack of bricks.

The weight thrust into her cunt with the same intensity, adding to the pleasure that twisted her voice and further corrupted her shattered mind.

Once Grace filled her to the hilt she laughed and gave Brooke’s ass a hard firm swat. “Mmm yeah… This is just what I was hoping for. I’m going to play with my pretty little Brookie-slut, then I might just sleep. I might even stay buried in her tight little ass. Keep her bound up all pretty all night. You’d do it if I told you that you had to, wouldn’t you Brookie-slut?”

“Yuh-yuh-yesssss!” Brooke screamed as a familiar dampness stained her thighs and her cheeks. She wiggled her hips as her body tried to move against the invasive hardness.

It had looked imposing when Brooke had first seen it, but it was already becoming welcome.

I’m such a broken slut that being fucked in the ass by Grace is going to make me cum… She won’t even need to kiss me or touch me anywhere else… I can’t even hold back my screams! She would have wondered why her thoughts flowed so freely, but thinking so hard was dangerous.

Every thought chipped and slammed weight in vulnerable places that threatened to yield like her self-control. Every thought she allowed herself made the next less of a certainty.

When Grace began to move her hips firmer, Brooke’s own screams sent so much of her mind tumbling to shatter apart.

“Oooh yes! Fuck, I might cum without shoving your dirty slutty face back between my legs! You’re such a hot fun little slut! You probably could have fucked your way to the top, but you tried to get there with morals and… Nnn… hard work! Now I’m fucking you right back down to the bottom where you fucking belong!” Grace grunted as she squeezed Brooke’s hips tighter for better leverage.

So much girlhoney dripped along Brooke’s thighs. She already couldn’t count the orgasms. Each one fractured and demolished more of the mind she’d spent her whole life honing. All of her attention to detail, all of her self-respect, all of that and more was going away.

It wasn’t hers anymore.

“You’re barely going to be able to walk tomorrow! And it’s going to be because of me! Grace Wyrwal!” Grace screamed, and Brooke was sure that the shuddering of her owner’s hips was only the first of many orgasms that she would be feeling through the leather harness.

She rubbed her face into the soft bed underneath herself, and focused on how good it felt to be so completely used. There was nothing else she could do.

Brooke came again, and felt the last of her hope tumble and leave her behind.

Grace was right.

The next day at work Brooke could barely walk, and every step that she did take in spite of the soreness made her whole body throb and flush. Every step reminded her of the countless pelvic thrusts she’d felt the night before. Every step reminded her that she’d came more in that one night than the rest of her life.

Brooke smiled and waved and was nice to everyone the whole day. Of course all of the files she’d prepared the night before to expose Grace were gone but Brooke had expected that. What she hadn’t expected to be so horrifying was whatever Grace had done that made her wear a happy everything-was-still-normal Brooke mask. She passed by so many people and ached for some way to reveal her private hell. Each person she passed and failed to alert to the truth sealed the mask tighter over her face.

When she’d arrived she’d rushed to sign off on the report, but somehow it seemed she’d done it the night before. She wondered how much she didn’t remember, and then tried not to.

All day long every time she filled a spreadsheet it was for Grace. Her panties were ruined before her morning coffee break. By lunchtime she’d been so overwhelmed that she’d found an empty bathroom on one of the lower floors and masturbated until she came screaming.

No one had been there to hear it, but she’d still wanted to cry as she washed her hands before returning to work.

There seemed no limits to what Grace could do to her. She wondered how long Grace had been planning her ruining but found it too horrible to ponder for long.

It had been too long, far too long.

Grace had even told her that she’d be staying late again, so she had. There was miraculously no work for her to do. She’d spent over an hour staring at an empty inbox shuddering at the obedience inherent in doing nothing instead of leaving.

I’m such a weak and pitiful slut that I can’t even go home unless she tells me to. I’m stuck here. Doing nothing. If she left me here I’d stay here all night.

When the door finally opened it was Grace.

Brooke hated how excited, even happy, she was to see the other woman. She had broken her, put the pieces back together, and now she was Brooke’s salvation. Torment was better than hours of nothing but existential dread. Being left alone meant being left with nothing, as nothing, just aching for some way to be of worth since she had none of her own.

“We’re going to take a little field trip. Come with me. Be good and I might even be nice to you tonight!” Grace’s voice was long the song of a very annoying bird. It broke the silence, but Brooke still wanted to throw rocks.

“Yes, Grace! I’ll be happy to!” She rose to her feet and felt the plastic doll smile stretch wider on her face. Even if no one else was in the office she still was wearing the mask.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to come off. Brooke wasn’t sure she’d ever stop sobbing.

Soft tanned fingers slid between the fingers on Brooke’s pale hand before squeezing tight. Hand in hand, Grace led her to an elevator and tapped one of the higher floors. Brook recognized the floor. It wasn’t one that she often visited but she still remembered who was there. She shuddered in her mind as Grace cheerfully hummed along with the bubblegum pop turned elevator muzac.

The door opened, and the walk to Mrs. Wyrwal’s office was thankfully brief.

Grace locked the door after she entered the room, and pulled Brooke with her to stand in front of the large wooden desk. It looked real in every way that Brooke’s looked fake.

Behind the desk sat Priscilla Wyrwal. She possessed the sale elegant blonde hair, and the same beautiful gray eyes. Her skin was ever so slightly more pale but no less beautiful for the extra hint of cream. Her curves put Grace’s to shame and even in the smart suit she radiated the powerful aura that only a mother could have. It was twisted with something darker instead of promising warmth, but the matching white suit was no less flattering on her than it was on her daughter.

“Miss Howard, I presume?”

“Of course she is, mommy! I broke her just like you said! She went all crishy-crush and now she’s mine! Isn’t she just so… MMmmm?!” Grace squealed with a schoolgirl’s glee as she moved around Brooke and motioned to various places over her body. “Not much for tits or brains, but…”

Priscilla sighed. She ignored her daughter as she adjusted her glasses. Her eyes roamed over Brooke of their own accord. The trapped woman merely smiled professionally and made sure her suit was perfect.

“Did you fix the records like I told you to after you were done with her? I let you have admin access to tamper with the numbers, and I do hope my little girl didn’t think mommy wouldn’t check up on her.” Priscilla smirked, and looked to a nervous Grace with a sadistic glee.

Grace tugged at the collar of her jacket with a soft whimper. Some part of Brooke squealed and cheered. Priscilla was every bit as cruel and in charge of her daughter as Grace was of her. The glee quickly faded as she realized that only meant that she had two women to be terrified of instead of just the one. Priscilla hardly seemed gentle, or disapproving of her daughter’s antics. She’d helped her.

I am so… so... NNnnnnn fuuucked…

“I-I-well you see mommy, I got so excited to play with my new toy that it sort of slippy-slipped my—“

Priscilla cleared her throat, and her smirk turned all the more cold. “I asked a simple question. Did you fix the records like a good girl?”

“W-well n-n-NNNnnnh!”

The echo of Priscilla snapping her fingers filled the air as Grace’s eyes drained of their spark. Her thighs squeezed together, and her head fell forward like a doll with her batteries removed. Priscilla smiled, and slowly stepped around her desk.

Her hands lifted the hefty weight of Grace’s breasts as she disapprovingly clicked her tongue. “Such a naughty little girl, Grace. Mommy gave you a big responsibility, and you didn’t measure up.

“Don’t worry, mommy will punish you and use your pretty body and your girlish little mind to have her fun. When she’s done, you’ll fix everything yourself. If you’re good, I won’t send you to bed without your desert. And if you’re very good, you might sleep in mommy’s bed.” Grace moaned happily as she rubbed her breasts into her mother’s tightly clutching hands. Her eyes fluttered, and the cute giggle she made sounded nearly orgasmic.

H-her own… her own… daughter… Brooke silently whimpered as her smile stretched all the more tightly across her face. And now I’m at her mercy…

As if hearing her thoughts Priscilla released her daughter’s breasts and turned to meet eyes with Brooke. She stepped closer, and pulled Brooke’s body against her with hands tightly clutching the firmness of her rear. Still sore Brooke couldn’t resist the sharp hiss of pain. Priscilla only smiled more.

“Last night you were in the hands of a little girl. I’ve taught her how to play with her toys so she doesn’t break them… but that’s not the same as being played with by a real woman, is it Brooke?” Brooke quivered. Her mind, unsure of how to respond, merely groaned as Priscilla kneaded and squeezed at the helpless curves of her behind. “That’s right. Don’t worry. However loudly you screamed last night, mommy will make you scream even louder.

“That’s what mommies are for.”

Brooke felt her skirt pool over her shoes and fingers press possessively against the wet fabric so transparent with her lust it fully outlined her lower lips.

Beside them Grace mindlessly giggled and watched her mother play with her new toy.