The Silken Pt. 03

Author's note: Thank you for your patience waiting for this final chapter to be published on Lit. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment--hearing from readers means a lot. And if you'd like to see more of my work, please check my profile for other sites where my pantyhose/mind control writing and artwork can be found. All characters 18 years of age or older.

*****

Gina stood in her daughter's bedroom attended by two slaves.

Coffee-colored pantyhose were all Gina was wearing, both on her legs, and over her face as a mask. Weeks ago, Gina had been made into one the Silken. Forced to wear a special pair of pantyhose that sapped her will and altered her memories, Gina had become a slave, and eventually, an enslaver of others. The nylons she wore now were practically sacred to her. Which was fitting because what she was doing--the first step towards her daughter Laura's enslavement--was a holy act.

It was a Saturday night, and Laura was out at the movies with her friends. Or so she'd told her mother. It was so hard to believe what an 18-year-old told you. Especially since her father had died, and Gina had been left to raise her alone. Gina was tired of the fights, the slamming doors, the rolling eyes.

Tomorrow, everything would be different. It would be different because of what was in Gina's hands. Bundled in them were several pairs of pantyhose of varying colors: nude, suntan, jet black, off black, navy, coffee. They didn't appear different from any other sheer-to-waist pantyhose, except at the center seam was a thin gold thread.

That's what marked these hose as something special. They would rewrite the wearer's memories, making it seem as though they'd been a pantyhose fetishist their entire life. Once the victim's memories were rewritten, there was nothing more normal than fucking while wearing nylon all over their body.

Their mind-altering power entered through the skin. If one wore them on your legs, it might take hours for their venom to penetrate you completely, and make you one of the Silken. Much faster to pull a pair over the victim's head--closer to the mind, their power could force a victim's capitulation in moments.

These were same kind of pantyhose that had been used on Gina to make her a slave, and which Gina had in turn used on two others. The first had been a handsome, young associate at Gina's law firm named Mark. The other had been Mark's baby sister, Amy, who worked at the firm as a paralegal.

The siblings were in the bedroom with Gina now, and they were both wearing dark pantyhose on their legs and over their faces.

They were holding hands, brother and sister. Amy turned to look at him through the diaphanous material covering her face. She was so wet just looking at her brother, seeing how his dick always straining against the hose, desperate to be released into their mistress Gina's pussy, or his sister's.

Amy had only been enslaved for two weeks. How many times since then had her brother filled her pussy and mouth with his cum? Too many to count.

She turned from him to look at her enslaver, Gina, padding across the carpet, bending over as she opened the dresser's top drawer.

Looking at Gina's nylon-covered ass. Tasting Gina's pussy through the pantyhose slave mask that Amy always wore in the presence of other Silken was addictive. She couldn't wait to lick Gina's slit again.

But Amy was first and foremost a slave to Gina, and like a good slave, stood still until told to do otherwise, watching her mistress work.

From the drawer, Gina pulled out a dozen pairs of hose, and tossed them on the floor. In their place, she put the gold-threaded ones that were in her hand, and closed the drawer.

"She'll wear these tomorrow," Gina said as she turned to her slaves. "Going to church is one of the few traditions we've kept up with since Laura's father passed. And Laura always wears her Sunday best. That includes stockings." Even from across the room, her slaves could see through Gina's taut, nylon mask to the smile underneath.

"But, mistress," Mark began, "won't she notice the gold thread and know that these pantyhose are replacements?"

Gina shrugged. "I doubt it. Most women don't realize the innate power of pantyhose. I'm not merely talking about the special hose of the Silken, but just the kinds you can buy at a drugstore. So stupid, women not noticing how men look at their legs when they're all clad in nylon. To most women, and especially teenagers like Laura, pantyhose are just a nicer kind of socks. But she'll learn. Very soon. Just like the two of you did."

"Mistress, why even try to fool your daughter? We can force them onto her, just like you and my brother did to me." Amy shivered thinking about how her brother, wearing nothing but pantyhose, had grabbed her while she'd been working late one night. How once she'd been restrained, Gina had pulled a pair of gold-threaded hose over Amy's head. How the hose had re-weaved her memories, until she remembered how her own father had fucked her while they'd both worn hose.

Gina slinked over to them as they stood before her like soldiers at attention. With her left hand, she touched Amy's slick slit through the younger woman's nylons. With her right, she massaged Mark's hosed-up cock.

To Amy, she said, "You just love that, don't you, bitch? How your brother and I raped you, made you into a hose slut?"

"Yes," Amy said as Gina strummed the girl's clit.

"How I was the first woman that ever licked your pussy, made you cum, forever bound you to the Silken?" Gina asked, pressing her fingers firmer against the material, deeper into Amy.

"Yes."

"How you became a slave?"

"Yes."

"And started fucking your brother three or four times a day?"

"Oh yes."

"Because the pantyhose control you, don't they?" Gina asked.

"They control me."

"You're obedient because of the hose."

"I obey the hose, and you, mistress--always."

"And obedience to the hose is pleasure," Gina said, still masturbating Amy and her brother.

Amy was moaning now. "It's such pleasure obeying the hose!"

"Then obey me and cum, you pantyhose slut."

"Oh god." The orgasm radiated out from Gina's fingers, to Amy's clit, and then throughout the twenty-two-year-old's body.

Amy fell to the carpet, the pleasure overtaking her, and Gina turned her attention fully to her other thrall.

"You liked hearing your sister profess her slavery, don't you?"

"Yesssss," Mark hissed through his own mask.

"Just like you're a slave."

"Yes, I'm a slave," he said, his breathing sharp while Gina continued rubbing his nylon-covered cock.

"Remember how it felt, cumming inside your sister for the first time?" Gina asked.

"Yes," he said, and Gina knew this was the truth judging by the precum glistening on interior of his hose.

"It felt good, didn't it, being a pantyhose boy-slut, and fucking your pantyhose sister?"

"Hell yes," Mark said.

"All your slave cum, getting into your sister's slave pussy. Aren't you looking forward to doing the same, inside my little girl?"

Mark groaned, and suddenly a stream of cum erupted from his cock, straining through the inside of his navy hose onto Gina's hand.

Gina kept pumping the slave's cock. "Good, slave, good!" When his cockhead finally ceased spewing its river of cum, Mark's legs weakened beneath him. He knelt on the carpet beside his sister.

Amy had finally recovered from her own orgasm. Still kneeling, she touched Gina's legs, ran her hands up over her mistress's ass, brought her face close to Gina's crotch.

"Thank you so much for this pleasure," Amy said. "Let me serve you now, please."

Gina smiled at her young slave. With the hand that Mark had cum on, she reached for Amy's face, smeared her brother's seed over her black nylon mask. Amy flicked her tongue against her pantyhose mask, tasting Mark's cum as Gina continued rubbing it over his sister's face.

"I'd love that, my pet," Gina said, "but there isn't time. My daughter will be home soon. Her curfew is midnight. And also, you still live with your parents. You should go back to them like a good girl, not give them any reason to suspect your true self."

After she finished licking Gina's fingers some more, Amy pouted, "I hate living at home." The economy right now was bad, and she had moved home, working at Gina's firm and trying to pay down some college loans. Of course, she had found her true calling thanks to Gina, but Amy resented having to keep up appearances. Living with her parents meant she couldn't easily spend the night over at her brother's, or her mistress's.

"Don't worry, sweet dear. We'll take care of that, one day soon." Amy looked up at her quizzically, but before she could ask her mistress anything, Gina said, "Hush." Then the older woman ran her cummy fingers across the length of Amy's mouth. "No questions right now. Just get dressed and be prepared to come over tomorrow morning to help initiate my sweet, little Laura."

Amy smiled, peeling off her cum-soaked mask. "I'll be ready," she said, then got up to get the rest of her clothes from Gina's bedroom.

As Amy got dressed, Gina looked at Mark. "As for you, help me get my daughter's old hose out of her room. I don't want her wearing any pantyhose except the special Silken ones until after she's been converted. I'll keep her old ones in my room until then."

"Of course, mistress." Mark would do anything for the woman that had enslaved him, especially if it meant touching an 18-year-old girl's hosiery.

He collected Laura's hose from the floor, then carried them to Gina's room.

Gina followed him. Approaching him from behind, she wrapped her arms around his broad chest. His nylon-covered ass pressed against her pubis. It felt so good, feeling his warmth against her body. Since

becoming one of the Silken, she had come to love licking pussy. But there was still something about having a good man. She had missed it. A man that would protect her, perhaps even love her with the devotion of her husband. A man that she could love, have another family with...

"Thank you for getting those, Mark," she said.

"Anything for you," he said.

"I would love for you to stay the night, but I don't want Laura to discover anything. Not when we're so close."

He turned to her. His crotch was still slick with his cum, but his dick was growing hard again. "A slave obeys and is happy to." They kissed then through their pantyhose masks.

A short time later, Mark left, but not before Gina had commanded him to leave his cum-stained hose on beneath his suit. The mask she naturally allowed him to remove--only one or two-percent of the small, wealthy town of Arclight was now Silken, so appearances still had to be kept-up.

"Think of me tonight when you masturbate in those hose," Gina said as she slapped his ass on the way out the door. He wiggled it like a woman.

After he drove off in his BMW, Gina returned to her bedroom, stripped off her own hose. She felt incomplete without them clinging to her, but if Laura saw her wearing nylons at this hour, she might grow suspicious. Her daughter would never guess the perverse truth, of course, but Gina didn't want to risk it. She wanted her daughter's enslavement to be flawless.

Laura was twenty minutes past curfew when she finally came home. Gina was there to greet her in the kitchen.

"You're late," Gina said, wearing a robe while standing in the hallway door. The autumn air seemed to permeate the house, even though the heat was running. Gina felt the chill on her bare legs, and hated it.

"Whatever," Laura said, opening up the fridge to get something to drink.

Laura sat on a stool by the kitchen table as she opened a Diet Coke can. Her deep chestnut hair was long and straight, a compromise between the German blood on her father's side, and her mother's Chinese ancestry. A perfect blend of the exotic and girl-next-door.

"I'm surprised you'd even notice, busy as you've been with your job. You can make time to stay up for me, but can't even go to my recitals or plays?" Laura asked.

Gina had been through this before, and as much as she wanted to maintain appearances, she was tired of keeping up this act. "You're right."

Laura hadn't made eye contact with her mother since coming home, but that last statement had surprised her. She looked at her mom with wide eyes: "What did you say?"

"I said that you're right. I haven't made enough time for you. That changes tomorrow. Or today, I guess, since it's after midnight."

"You're not mad at me?" Laura sounded almost disappointed.

Gina laughed. "No, dear. Let's start over. We'll go to church tomorrow morning, like always, but afterward, we'll spend some time together. A lot of time. We'll become reacquainted. We'll remake our mother-daughter relationship into something special."

Laura shook her head. "You haven't been there since Dad died, and you think you can just hit the reset button by saying so? Yeah right." Laura stormed upstairs. Gina heard the slam of her daughter's bedroom door.

"Well, that went splendidly," Gina said to herself, checking her own anger. Gina had only pretended that she wasn't upset with Laura for breaking curfew. Especially so since Gina had become used to Amy and Mark's absolute obedience. Gina herself knew to be obedient to more senior members of the Silken. With such familiarity to sexual and intellectual obeisance, that her daughter couldn't even act with common courtesy made Gina's temper smolder.

But, as she had said to her own slaves, and hinted to her daughter, that would change very soon.

Gina went upstairs to her bedroom, locked the door. Laura's old pantyhose were still on Gina's big king-sized bed. Gina slipped off her robe. Taking a black pair of nylons from off the bed, Gina pulled them on. Standing, she smoothed the hose out, then looked at herself in her dresser mirror.

There she was: a trim, beautiful, Asian-American mother, wearing Laura's pantyhose. Gina's shaved slit, right where Laura's pussy had been.

Was there anything more intimate than to wear someone else's pantyhose? Masturbating as she went to sleep in her daughter's nylons, Gina was certain there wasn't.

* * * *

The next morning was foggy, a cold, autumn mist covering the hills of Arclight. Laura woke up in her bed. She still kept all the stuffed animals she had collected as a child on it. Even as she'd made her way to womanhood, she wasn't quite ready to let her girlishness go. Heaven knew she'd let enough of it go already.

Which was why she was groggy from the two beers she had the night before. She and her friends had gone to the movies as Laura had told her mother. Once there, they'd run into some guys from their high school. Heading back to one of the boys' homes, they'd found some bottles in the fridge. The guy's parents were divorced, and his mom was away on business. With no adult supervision, they had gotten into the alcohol.

The beer had tasted bitter to Laura, but she'd forced herself to drink. Had to keep up with her friends, after all. She was trim, and not means an experienced drinker--the beers had hit her hard. And it wasn't long before one of the guys made their move.

It was in a guest bedroom. She hadn't really liked the guy, but he was popular. It was expected that they'd hook-up. It had felt good, him fingering her, but then he'd wanted more.

They always do. She'd been lucky to get out of there by just giving him a blowjob.

Tipsy, sickened with herself for having demeaned herself (again) for a boy, half the reason Laura had been so mean to Gina was to make her mom keep her distance, and so not smell the booze or cum on her.

The other half was because Laura was simply anger. She understood her mother had to struggle to support them now that her father was gone. There was more to raising a daughter than money, though. What about spending time with each other? It hadn't been so long ago that they'd been the best of friends. Laura missed those days, though being a teenager she'd never admitted it.

Part of her wanted to believe what her mom was saying last night, that things were about to start again.

Laura finally rose from bed, opened her curtains to the foggy day. The shower's hot water felt good on her body, washed away the physical taint, if not the memory, of the night before.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she went back to her bedroom, started to get dressed. It was Sunday, which meant church. A relic of when Laura and her mother were so much closer, but a tradition they kept up largely because they'd always attended Mass with her father.

Once dry, she went over to her dresser, opened the top drawer where she kept her nylons. What to wear? Dark ones were probably a bit too sexy for church. Nude was too plain, and white too goody-goody. She decided on a pair of suntan hose. Pulling them out, she sat on the bed to put them on.

She never bothered with panties while wearing hose. Weren't pantyhose basically underwear, anyway?

Laura noticed it: the gold thread running along the center seam.

That was weird. Wouldn't she have noticed that before? Come to think of it, were these even her pantyhose? They felt...different. Better, actually. Silkier. Pleasant to the touch. Much nicer than what she normally wore, just pairs she got from the local drugstore.

She was being silly. Who would replace her pantyhose? She still had to dry her hair. No time to waste. She pulled them up, the nylon covering one leg, and then the other. Then Laura stood, pulled them up past her vagina, over her ass.

She did her hair, then her make-up, which didn't take long--she had great skin. Then Laura slipped on a white bra. As she was deciding what dress to wear, her hands idly ran over the hose. A pleasant sensation. Actually, she was feeling more energized now, but also light-headed, as if something were clouding her thoughts even as her body began to feel better.

Boy, what a lightweight she was, still feeling the effects of just two beers!

She put on a simple, flowered dress, a dark, open sweater to guard against the autumn air, some closed-toe heels. Laura checked herself out in the full-length mirror attached to the back of her bedroom door. She looked good. Not slutty like so many teenage girls in an effort to look more mature, nor like a little girl going to her first Communion. She looked like herself: a budding, respectable woman, doing her best to find her way.

Then she noticed her legs. Owing to her father's genes she was already slightly taller than her mom, but Laura had certainly inherited her mother's shapeliness. Laura ran track every spring, so she'd always known she had strong legs. Suddenly, however, she was seeing as if for the first time that she had really nice legs. The kind that men would notice, even on days like today, when she wasn't trying.

The hose really set them off. The slight glistening of the material highlighted what nature had given her. She imagined that all pantyhose did this on some level. That's why women wore them, right? Strange that she never thought of it until now.

As she walked down the stairs, she again felt the lightheadedness, had to steady herself on the steps. It passed after a moment, and she felt fine. Good, in fact. She continued downstairs, where she found her mother in the kitchen.

"Coffee's on," Gina said from where she sat cross-legged at the kitchen table reading the paper.

"Thanks," Laura said. Gina's legs were clad in jet black hose. Her mother often wore stockings, but Laura had noticed that she'd been showing a lot more leg--nylon-covered

leg, to be precise--the past few weeks.

"You look nice this morning, by the way," her mother said, looking up from her paper.

Laura laughed. "Thanks, but you're not my type."