The Helpless Girl

Hi,

My first attempt at writing a Mind Control story was not as successful as I thought. The comments were not helpful either. So, if you don't like the story, because there are too many language flaws in it, don't hesitate to tell me. I want to learn.

Have fun.



When I came home, a girl was sitting in a corner of my living room like a picture of misery.

"Who are you?" I asked. "How did you come here?"

She looked at me with tear-stained eyes. "I don't know", she sobbed. "I don't know what my name is. I don't know where I came from."

She was petite, perhaps twenty or twenty-two, but in her helplessness, she looked like a little girl.

I handed her a box of tissues. "Thank you, sir", she said.

Then I sat down in an armchair. She was no longer crying, but still looking like a lost puppy.

"Do you want to sit down with me?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded.

"Come here", I said as kindly and non-threatening as I could.

Hesitatingly, she rose and approached with tiny steps.

I opened my arms, and lightning-fast she jumped into my lap and snuggled up against me. "Thank you, sir."

"So, you can't remember anything?"

Looking up at me, helplessness in her eyes, and the craving to be helped by anyone, she shook her head.

"Well", I said. "Let's look at the facts. There are only two groups of people casually running around naked."

She looked at me puzzled, then her eyes went down over her body as if she hadn't noticed before that she was wearing her birthday suit. "Oh!", she said.

"The first group", I continued, "is militant nudists. The second one is slaves. The collar you're wearing —" her fingers jerked to her neck, caressing the black, shiny leather "— makes me believe that you belong to the latter one."

"I am a slave?" She was close to bursting into tears again. "That is not possible."

"But easy to determine. If you are a slave, and I'll give you a command, your programming will obey without your conscious mind even start thinking."

"A command, sir?", she said thoughtfully. "Such as?"

"As far as I know the first thing a slave learns is: Kneel!"

She slid off my lap and knelt just in front of me, legs slightly apart, hands resting on her thighs, body erect, gazing down.

"Oh!", she said. "You're right, sir. It really looks as if I'm a slave."

Then she looked up at me, obviously struggling to lift her head. "But why am I here?"

"That's a good question, Little One. It most likely depends on the variety of slave you are."

"A-and what do you think I am?"

"Just do me a favor and cross your fingers behind your neck. Very good. Big, firm breasts, a sweet tattoo of the letter K on your mound, pubic hair — no: all body hair — removed. Well, I think you look like a sex-slave."

"Oh! But that can't be. I don't know what a sex-slave has to do."

"Your programming will know. By the way, your pussy is gleaming very moist. The situation seems to arouse you. That's another hint into the same direction."

"You are right, sir. Do you know about a similarly simple test as the one with kneeling?"

I rose. "For all I know —" I stood in front of her and opened my trousers "— a sex-slave can't resist taking an offered cock in her ... Ahhh! ... mouth. She'll caress it ... Yesss! ... with her t-tongue and slowly ... Ohhh! ... let it slip into her throat.

"And if you ... you ... youuu ... are in fact as sex-slave, you won't have a gag reflex ... Yesss! ... and you can make me orgasm just by swallowing and swallowing and ... YESSS!!!"

I ejaculated deep in her throat. She had been looking into my eyes from below all the time, puzzlement and lust in her gaze.

She slowly released my limping cock, licking it carefully clean on the way out.

"You are right, sir", she said softly, while I made my way back to the arm chair. "And I even enjoyed it. I never thought ..."

"Wait! Are you remembering anything?"

She pensively looked down. "Uh-uh. No, sir. It was just a quick thought as if I just did that for the very first time."

"Come back into my lap", I said. "Your knees have to hurt."

She rose without using her hands and approached me, her smiling eyes never leaving mine, and her rump swaying seductively. "No, sir. I don't feel any pain."

I nodded. Her programming had to take care of that, too.

She sat in my lap again. I noticed her body slightly shivering.

"Are you cold?"

"No, sir, only ..." She hesitated.

"What's the matter?"

"M-my arousal increases."

"Ah, yes. I heard about that. Your body apparently knows that you serviced your master well."

"Was I even good, Master?"

I took a deep breath. "You were very good, Little One."

Her body shivered. "Oh! That praise has aroused me even more."

"Yes, I see", I said. "Your body is preparing itself to receive the reward for a service well done."

"Master, what will that reward be?"

I smiled. "I'm rather sure that you already know that."

"A ... an orgasm?"

"An overwhelming, fantastic, and utterly satisfying orgasm if I have some say in that matter. Why not start to caress yourself? I'll watch."

Her hand jerked between her spread thighs. Her amazed and delighted gaze told me that her keen spirit was accepting her conditioning with astonishment and glee.

Two fingers slid into her pussy, and her thumb started circling around her clit. She moaned softly. Shivers were traveling through her body again and again. Her hand was increasing its pace. At one point, she started whimpering. "Master", she panted. "I can't come. There is something ..."

"It seems as if you are conditioned to need your master's permission to orgasm."

"Please, Master, give me permission." She looked at me pleadingly.

I kissed her forehead. "You are so beautiful when you say that. Just repeat your wish a little more submissively."

She smiled. "Master", she said, "please, I beg you to let me come. I'll do anything for you if you allow me to come."

I bowed and whispered into her ear. "Come, Little One, come for me."

She froze. All her muscles tensed up. Her whole body looked as if it wanted to have this moment endure for eternity. Then she flinched, again and again. Her hand thrust into her cunt synchronously. She breathed in the same rhythm, and it seemed to me as if even her heart pounded in the same rhythm. Again, and again, and again.

I held her firmly, let her ride out her orgasm.

"Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you", she eventually murmured exhaustedly.

"Sleep now", I said, "I'll hold you."

At the same moment, her body relaxed in my lap. Her breath turned slow and quiet.

I took my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed a long number. "Yes, it's me. She's ready. You can pick her up now."

I looked at the body in my lap, covered in sweat from her climax. "Of course. Complete and perfect like all my products."

I softly stroked her hair. I just wanted to keep them all, but business was business. "No", I said, "I don't mind. You can pick her up tomorrow night as well. I'm sure I'll come up with something to while away my time."

THE END