Rekindled

Influences at the end.

As a fair warning, this is a mind control story with sexual content, and not a sex story with mind control content.

Disclaimer: This story contains scenes of non-consensual sex between females and depictions of sexual slavery. If you are under 18 or offended by this type of material please do not continue. Otherwise, read on and enjoy! Also, any resemblance of the characters in this work to people either living, dead or fictitious is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Rekindled ©2015 softi. All rights reserved. Send comments to contact on my profile.

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Heather massaged her temples, ready to head home. Her eyes crossed over the papers strewn on her desk and the monitor of her laptop. She had more to do, but it was late, and it was Friday. Gathering up the filing for the patent, she clicked her laptop shut. It could be finished from home. The necessary items all went in her briefcase and she left the office.

The elevator ride down was lonely, like it always was on Friday. During the week, sometimes another late-working lawyer or some other corporate stiff would ride down with her, occasionally asking her to drinks, either business driven or otherwise. She never accepted. But on Friday, everyone was out, already deep in alcohol-fueled schmoozing with coworkers, or home with their families. Even the janitors weren't there, waiting until Sunday night to clean up. The doors opened in the underground garage, and she walked out to her car. The black BMW M5 winked as she pressed the keyless entry.

The ride home was lonely. The freeways weren't crowded, with most workers already home even after drinks. Some part of her noticed, wanted some social interaction. But it wasn't going to happen. She had to work, make money to send her daughter to college. Her ex had accused her of placing work before all, and maybe it was true. But she had a purpose, and sending Riley to Berkeley was it.

She came in through the garage, tossing her keys in the drawer of the small table as she walked into the kitchen. "I'm home!" she shouted, not sure if Riley was still around. There wasn't an answer. She heard the T.V. in the living room though, so she peeked around the corner and saw her daughter scrunched on the couch, staring at her phone instead of paying attention to whatever show was on. Heather didn't know; she didn't have time for T.V.

"Hi honey," Heather said over the blaring speakers.

"Oh, it's you," said Riley. "You actually came home. I'm amazed."

"Yes, I came home," said Heather bitterly. It was an old fight, and not one she had the energy to go through now. "Are you hungry?"

"Ate a while ago, no thanks to you," Riley said. "I'll be out of your hair in a bit," she sniped.

Heather sighed. "You know it's not like that," she said.

"Then act like it," Riley replied.

Heather opened her mouth, closed it again. She was too tired for this. She shook her head, walked down the hall to her dark home office and set her briefcase on the mahogany desk. She clicked on the lamp and sank into the soft, plush leather chair. It was new, since the last had worn to the point of cracking. Soft light shined in a puddle on the desk, with papers stacked neatly at either side and pens in a small cup at the top. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with brown, black and blue legal tomes. She pulled out her laptop and plugged it into the cradle. Once fired up, the large monitor attached to the dock came on and the filing filled the screen.

Her cell rang. She pulled it out of her purse. The screen showed "Unavailable". She answered. "This is Heather."

"Hello, my sweet, precious Heather," a silky woman's voice intoned.

"No," whispered Heather, her body immediately tense as cold fear radiated from her chest. Petra.

"Yes, Heather. I've found you," said Petra. "It's time for you to sleep again."

"No, no, no!" shouted Heather. "I took them out! All of them! By a professional!"

"You mean, all of those, creamy delights," asked Petra.

"See! They don't work! Stay away from me you bitch!"

"I'm going..."

Heather angrily pushed the hang up button on the cell's screen. She dropped her phone on the desk and sunk her face into her hands. The memories came flooding back, all of the ones she'd fought to lose and kept suppressed for so long.

Petra sat next to Heather in their apartment kitchen. They shared the smallest bedroom of the three, since neither could afford to pay for their own. The cheap plastic chairs weren't comfortable, and Heather hated them.

"It'll work, trust me," said Petra.

"No way," said Heather. "This is all bullshit."

"No, really, I can do this," said Petra. "You need to get under control or you're never going to graduate."

"I... I know, Petra," said Heather, resigned to at least trying. Her grades were in the tank and she was already on academic probation. She shook her head. "But this is still bullshit."

"Just, just let me try," said Petra. "But you have to try as well. Let yourself do this, relax into it, be open to letting it happen, ok?"

"Ok," Heather sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Watch this," said Petra, and Heather did. The pendant swung gently between them, and Heather watched as Petra droned on about feeling relaxed, heavy, sleepy...

Heather shook herself, stopping the movie her mind was making. It had taken years of therapy, much of it under trance, to erase what had happened to her. The clinicians hadn't really believed, but she paid good money, so they walked through her mind, erasing the pieces that made her drop under so quickly. They tried to break the associations, too, and she had thought they had. But now, even after 20 years, she was a little breathless just from hearing that voice again. Her body still responded in the ways it had been trained to. But the feelings were muted, and she had hung up. She had won. Just like she had gotten away after graduation, all of those years ago. She sank back into the chair and forced her muscles to relax. Nothing was going to happen.

"Well, we've gotten all we could find," said Dr. Thompson. "I can't believe how many there were." He shook his head. "Mommy's little dolly, doggy, strip..."

"Thank you, doctor," Heather said, able to not react to the words, not forget as each was said. "You've done more than I thought anyone could to help me."

"You've been a unique case, Heather. We just wanted to help you get past the PTSD and get your life back."

"You have, doctor. You have." She smiled at him. She'd gotten past offering her body as payment at the end of each session. "I'm not a slave anymore." She turned and walked out the door, feeling free and happy for the first time in years. Truly happy, not some trained reflex igniting a warped, sexual bliss.

Her phone rang again. It said "Unavailable". She ignored it. She got up and poured herself some brandy from the crystal carafe she had on a small table near the two chairs facing the desk. The burn helped cover up the last of the latent feelings from the call with Petra that she hadn't been able to get under control. Sighing, she sat down. Another flash of memory pushed forward.

Heather sat on her bed in her room, amazed at the difference just a few sessions with Petra had made. Her concentration was up, her motivation was higher, and she was getting through her studies easily. She smiled as she finished up the last of her speech and got ready to put it on cards.

Petra interrupted her. "Hey, there, roomie." She smiled down at Heather. "Ready for another session?"

"Hey, Petra, it's been working so well I'm not sure..."

"Don't be silly, Heather," Petra said. "You can always use more reinforcement." Heather did feel silly. Of course she needed more. It was helping her so much. "Now, it's time to get ready," said Petra, like she was talking to a child. Heather didn't mind. She moved to the edge of the bed and sat up straight. Her nightshirt rode up over her hips, exposing her lack of underwear. But that didn't matter.

Didn't it used to?

"Just relax your mind, Heather, and let me in." Heather did, her eyes sliding closed and her breathing slowing. Face slack, her mind opened to her hypnotist. The world faded in a blissful fog, conscious thought slipping away, losing track of time...

Heather startled herself back to reality. Her body was relaxed and her breathing slow, with dew between her legs. She shook to break the conditioning her body remembered. Even after so long, Petra had hooks in her. A few aches had crept in while she'd sat, and she worked them slowly out. How long had she sat there, lost in the dream? She needed to do something, take her mind off her old roommate. Looking around, she figured maybe she could start on work, but that wouldn't happen now. Her concentration was shot. Heather stood up, a little agitated. Work had always helped before, but the heat between her legs was distracting. She walked towards the table, thinking maybe another drink might help.

The doorbell rang. Surprise warred with fear as she opened her office door and walked towards the foyer. Her daughter beat her there, opening the front door, likely expecting her friends. Instead, two women stood there, similar in look but years apart in age. Both had long, honey blonde hair and strong, high cheekbones.

Heather immediately recognized her former roommate. Dread swept over her. She fought down a panic attack, nearly hyperventilating, but just managing to control herself.

"Oh," said Riley. "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of your mother's," said the older woman. "My name is Petra. And this is my daughter, Keira."

"I didn't know mom had friends," sniped Riley, looking back at her mother. She turned rudely and went into the living room, plopped back on the couch, and went back to whatever was on her phone.

"Get out," whispered Heather, fists clenched at her sides. It was all she could manage.

"Oh, pet, invite us in," said Petra. Her smooth, silken voice sank into crevasses it had carved long ago throughout Heather's mind. "We've come so far to see you, pretty dolly."

War raged in Heather's mind. The role-playing sessions with the therapists fought for dominance in her head, the ones where she told Petra off, but the velvet voice crippled the drawn up, coached, and rehearsed responses. It wormed into her mind and demanded attention, pushing her to invite the predator in. Protective instinct popped up, wanting to keep Riley away and safe from something so twisted in Heather's past. Her body worked on it's own as the war continued, gesturing the two inside and shivering in obedient joy while her thoughts spun. Part of her mind thrilled at the rekindled pleasure of submission, while another shouted at her to stop and force the two out.

Petra and Keira walked in, both dressed lightly in blouses, skirts, stockings and heels. Keira's clothes were tight, showing her curves and hinting at the bra underneath. Petra sat in the large love seat and Keira took up position on the far side of the couch from from Riley. Heather caught Petra's daughter greedily looking her own up and down while licking her lips slightly. Riley shrank back a bit, annoyed but not enough to move yet.

"Heather, bring us drinks, we're thirsty," said Petra. "Wine for me, a good cab. And make sure it's a fresh bottle. I don't want anything stale."

"Same for me," said Keira.

Heather never took this from anyone without exploding. She could feel the anger boiling up, but with it came the desire to obey and the need to feel the gratification that would bring. She shivered in place, trying to wield her now trained will to fight the submission. She saw Riley look up, confusion playing across the young woman's features at her mother's strange reaction.

"Now, Heather," warned Petra. It tipped Heather towards subservience, a strong desire not to displease washing away her ability to resist. Defiance faded into warm desire as she went into the kitchen, pulled out a new bottle, popped the cork and poured. She served the two glasses to Petra and Keira, feeling a little thrill run up from her moistening crotch.

"Uh, mom, get me one too."

Heather turned to her daughter, anger on her face. She never let Riley drink.

"Get her one, pet," said Petra.

Heather nearly blew up. Rounding on Petra, she glared at the woman, who just stared back at her, daring her to defy an order. The anger struggled to win out as Heather stood still, eyes blazing, body shaking with rage. The allure of submission and reveling in the bliss it brought pressed back, getting stronger with each moment, and she finally whipped around to head back to the kitchen. The budding flame between her thighs grew as she listened to the conversation from the kitchen.

"My mom's pretty good," said Petra's daughter, "isn't she?"

"How...?" asked her own.

"Back in college, my mom hypnotized yours."

"Bullshit," came the disbelieving response. "No way."

"Really, she totally did." Heather came out, blushing and a little tingly to hear her daughter learn of her weakness. Keira had turned towards Riley. Heather saw both smiling as they watched her bring the glass to her daughter. She seethed as an amused Riley took the drink and swigged.

Though she obviously still felt the docility, tractability and pleasure in obedience she had in college, Heather gathered the burning pain and indignation running through her at being treated this way in front of her daughter to try to steel herself against it. Again she prepared to fight for her autonomy, and rounded on Petra, pointing at her nemesis. "You cannot come in here..."

"Oh, stop it, Heather," said Petra, barely raising her voice. "Kneel."

A velvet arousal washed over the anger, and Heather's knees buckled. She somehow caught herself and stood up straight. "I had those commands removed."

"I thought you might try," said Petra. "Strip." Heather's hands twitched, but stayed at her side. "Doggy." She nearly barked, but choked it back. "Mommy's little dolly." Heather felt the old wash of relaxation and pleasure as her mind began drifting, but it was weaker than years ago and she fought it off. She grinned in triumph as reality came back into focus.

"Wow, you really have done well," admitted Petra. She turned to look at Heather's daughter. "Riley, did you know your mom was a partier in college?"

"Leave now, or I'm calling the cops," interrupted Heather.

"Shush, Heather," ordered Petra. "And freeze, my little pet," she added, as Heather reached for her phone. The previous victory faded as Heather stiffened, faintly trembling in her struggle to move against the blossoming re-addiction to the joy of obedience. Somehow, the professionals had missed that one. Her eyes swung to her hypnotist, resentment clear in her glare, but she couldn't break free. The delight of losing the battle slicked her pussy.

Petra smiled back, obviously enjoying the trapped woman's futile enmity and rising heat. Still looking at Heather, she said, "Now, Riley, your mother was a partier. She hated work. The woman you grew up with was my doing, and for that, I am sorry. I had no idea she would turn into such a workaholic. But she came to me, asked me to help her study. I told her about hypnosis, and explained what it could do for her. She didn't believe me, but was so desperate she tried anyway." Petra smiled at Riley. "It's a powerful force, the mind. You can do a lot with it, if you want to, and Heather wanted to. She was going to be kicked out."

"Mom? No fucking way!" exclaimed Riley.

"Really, Riley. So I helped her, and she got better about her work. In fact, became a little obsessed with it, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh, yeah," Riley nodded.

"It looks like she's been fighting back, all this time," said Petra, looking back at Heather. "Heather, dear, please look here," she said, pulling something from under her blouse. A red gem swung on the end of a thin, sliver necklace. "I bet there's one impulse you couldn't lessen, that you still can't fight."

Heather saw the jewel come out, and struggled to keep her eyes locked on Petra's. Instead, they dropped down to the bright stone swinging gently under the woman's hand. The desire to fight, to look away and focus on anything else, slowly eroded in an undercurrent of bliss. "That's it, pet, just sink down into a warm, relaxing trance." Petra's words slipped into Heather's mind, soothing her and bringing long dormant parts to the surface. Heather whimpered slightly, labored for a second more, then surrendered to the darkness rapidly curling up around her mind. Her consciousness drowned in a morass of deep, scary, scorching hot fantasies embedded in her long ago. Soon, face slack, body relaxed and crotch dripping, she gently swayed on her feet in time with the pendant.

"Kneel, my pet," Petra said, and Heather flushed with pleasure as she obeyed. Her eyes were still locked on the bauble. She felt aware, but through a dreamy haze of compliant euphoria.

"Oh my god, nobody's going to believe this shit." Heather didn't move or glance over as a phone flash went off.

"Just wait, Riley, and watch the power my mom has over yours."

"Now, Heather, bark," her hypnotist said. Heather barked, and nearly whined with the thrill. "Sit." Heather sat on her haunches, hands on the ground, joy playing across her face. "Present." Heather arched her back forward, pulling her arms behind herself to press her breasts against the blouse of the suit she was still wearing. She could feel the shock on her daughter's face, the fascination in Riley's gaze.

"You should try it, Riley," said Keira, "having someone under your control. It's such a rush." A pause. "Why don't you hypnotize me?"

Heather tried to wonder if that should bother her, but she hadn't been told to worry about it.

"I, uh, what?"

"Come on," said Keira. "It's not like you can get me to do anything I don't want to do."

Riley audibly drank more wine, paused, finally said, "Fine, I'll play. What do I do?"

Heather felt a prickle in her mind, but obediently washed it away. She dripped thinking about how well trained she was, how good she was being.

"Here, take this." Something flashed in Heather's peripheral vision, but the gem in front of her still held her gaze. "Swing it gently, drone on about how wonderful it is to be relaxed and sleepy."

"That's it?" Riley questioned.

"Something like that. Give it a try. I'm willing, so it shouldn't be too hard."

A flashing light occasionally hit Heather's eyes. "You are feeling very sleepy," Riley intoned, not really suppressing a giggle. "Feel the relaxation wash over you. You are getting heavy, and feeling sleepy." Another giggle.

"Treat it more like guided meditation," said Keira.

"I don't meditate."

There was a sigh, and some movement. "Here, Riley, let me show you." Some more movement.

Heather could almost crease her brow.

The red jewel swung closer to her face, and she felt a soft whisper in her ear. "Aware, pet." The haze evaporated, bringing the danger into sharp focus. Heather tried to call out, to stop her daughter from playing with a predator. Her eyes were still locked in place, she was under an order to be quiet, and her body was frozen in presenting position. She managed a faint whimper of frustration but her helplessness only fueled the submissive euphoria.

"You know what's going to happen, don't you, pet? Your daughter is going to slip into trance for the first time. Turn and watch." Even as her heart sank in her chest, Heather obediently rounded on her knees to observe. Keira was up high on the couch, gently swinging a sparkling green gem in front of Riley, who was stretched out somewhat. The look of skepticism on her daughter's face buoyed Heather's flagging spirits.