Below are some small pieces of flash fiction categorized in chronological order. None of them will take you longer than a few moments to devour. For no other reason than it was the first way it occurred to me, they are listed by year with the newest listed last. There are some small bits of fiction here, as well as some compilations available for purchase!
Pocket Watches and Glazed Eyes: Twenty Tales of Erotic Mind Control Volume 1
Within this ebook is a collection of twenty short stories. Their subjects, settings, and characters vary. There is no continuity, and no overarching plot. Instead, each story is another glimpse at a tale of a woman amidst a short tale of eroticism brought on by the loss of her control.
Pocket Watches and Glazed Eyes: Twenty Tales of Erotic Mind Control Volume 2
The second volume of Pocket Watches and glazed eyes follows the same format as the first. Twenty short stories with varying subjects, settings, and characters. There may be no continuity or overarching plot, but each story is a glance at a woman within a tale of erotic mind control.
Pocket Watches and Glazed Eyes: Twenty Tales of Erotic Mind Control Volume 3
This edition features such stories as "Sisters", "Download", "Princess of Darkness", and "Cog in the Machine."
Pocket Watches and Glazed Eyes: Twenty Tales of Erotic Mind Control Volume 4
This edition features such stories as "Root", "Tired", "Streaming", and "Kitsune."
Pocket Watches and Glazed Eyes: Twenty Tales of Erotic Mind Control Volume 5
This edition features such stories as "Marionette", "Milking", "Internship", and "The House Always Wins."
The first compiled edition, this is the first five of the compilations in one!
Coming soon to paperback!
This edition features such stories as "Cultist", "Cowgirl", "Statistician", and "Put A Ring On It."
This edition features such stories as "Contractual Obligation", "Slow Bimbofication", and more!
2006: Spacing Out, Koohii Bot 2.0, Writing Advice, Whitless, Customer Service, Mentor Line, Headset Slave
2007: Obey, For We Are The Many
Jill sat at her keyboard typing away along with all of the other members of her class until Samantha stepped up behind her. At first, Jill wondered just what Samantha was doing, just standing behind her, watching her, until she noticed that Samantha's eyes weren't on Jill but on the keyboard.
"You know, it's more correct if you hit the space bar twice after each period." Samantha leaned closer, maybe a little too close, but Jill couldn't afford to stop typing. She was a slow typer as it was, and this assignment was important. "Come on, just try it. Just try to hit the space bar twice each time, and you can't tell me that it doesn't feel more relaxing, more soothing . . ."
Something about the way Samantha spoke made Jill squirm, and so she gave it a try. At first, it felt absolutely ridiculous. She was just wasting time! She needed to get this assignment done. It was just . . . But soon she had to look up at Samantha and nod in amazement. "Wow, you're right, it does feel better!"
"Mmmhmm, why don't you try three? Three, four, you know, just run with it . . ." While two being better because it was correct sounded good, three just sounded ridiculous, but Samantha had been right before so Jill gave it a shot. Three spaces felt even better! She wasn't sure how it could be right, but four was even nicer. Five felt like heaven . . .
"Why don't you just keep on hitting the space bar? You seem to enjoy empty, blank space a lot more than all of those big words . . ." Jill wanted to be offended, but Samantha had been so right before. So her thumb just kept tapping . . . . And tapping . . . She didn't even think to disagree when Samantha told her what they were going to be doing after school, and Jill didn't even almost flinch as Samantha stepped closer and started to run her hands up and down her sides . . .
Koohii blinked as the computer chip pressed into her forehead began to be covered up by the odd metallic silver skin... it was only a matter of moments before she screamed - the device was covering her, coating her, changing her... and within minutes, her body was shimmering silver, with a coffee cup logo tattoo at her left breast, marked "decaf" and one on the other, marked "regular." With a moan she arched out her metallic chest and held a mug underneath, filling it with the premium coffee from her right breast and holding it out to the owner of the latest KoohiiBot2.0 - Doctor Valencia.
Carin sat in front of her computer, clicking away on the cordless keyboard that rested on her bare thighs. Click, click click, she was only maybe three thousand words away from the mental thought "the end" and it was such an exciting feeling.
Her lovely heroine sadly, was not feeling quite so excited - at least not in her right mind. Poor Silver, doomed to be trapped away for all of eternity. That was, until Carin remembered the PM that she'd gotten from Jo...
Everything started to feel strange as she tried to recall exactly what Jo had said. Was it some sort of suggestion? A tip? Advice? All she knew was that the more she thought of it, the more that she felt herself slicken and began to jokingly worry for the safety of her keyboard if she kept it up.
But now she knew how it should end... Mistress would be pleased, and so would Silver. Sure, it would take awhile to revise, but the rewards would be worth it. Maybe she'd be able to go on that trip after all...
Whitney moaned as the helmet's suction cups vibrated against her bare scalp. All around her lay her once long, and gorgeous beautiful crimson red hair, that had once curled in that way that looked like it was eternally teased into that shape by a very dedicated goddess of lust. Her eyes fluttered and rolled back into her head as the sounds continued to pump into her ears, and the IV drip slowly eased the chemicals into her bloodstream.
It was overkill, but it was meant to be. The vibrator that shook inside of her, covered with the same drug that was being pumped into her might have been enough as it was, but this wasn't about efficiency.
Tanned hands slowly ran over Whitney's creamy skin, and fondled her handful sized breasts capped with the cutest dark strawberry red nipples that darkened and tightened more as palms pressed against them.
In front of Whitney, her new owner grinned and tisked, shaking her head slowly. "You poor dear . . . From now on, we'll be calling you Whitless, and I have the most perfect pair of silver hot pants for you . . . Try not to soak through them too quickly once the programming kicks in, hmm?"
Whitless just moaned, lips quivering. She would have agreed, but even agreeing was beyond her, but when one was being commanded to be mindless, one didn't need to do anything at all to obey.
Sandra sighed as she heard the familiar beep ring out from her headset. Another caller. Another caller, she noted from the readout on her phone, from Maine. They'd been having outages off and on for the past five weeks, and she'd only been working in her call center for about four. Try as she might to do her best, it was hard to come off as helpful to callers who wanted nothing to do with a service that had outages.
Because of course, her company (that she pretended to work for, not the one that handed her pay checks) was the only one having outages due to freak snow storms.
"Welcome to Jameston High Speed Internet Technical Support, my name is Sandra, and how can I help you today?"
It was the same voice she used all day, over, and over, and over again.
"Oh, you can help me by telling me just what you're wearing. And then taking it off . . ." The woman's voice, something about it, it slithered into her, and she could feel it deep inside of her mind. She heard another bing, like a phone call, but it was too deep inside of her head for that, far too . . .
"A s-s-kirt... b-blouse and... boots and... nnnn..." She could feel herself gushing as she peeled off her already sodden panties, and she knew that no one would be stealing her chair for once, it was covered with her own lubrication. "nnn... I... who...?"
"Put yourself in meeting on your phone, and come to the manager's cube... I think I could use some customer service . . ."
Sandra was so excited. She was always excited now. She'd gotten a promotion, a new cube (it even had a window! - which was generally shaded due to glare on a cube mate's computers, but sometimes it was open!), and a raise. Of course, now she had to deal with supporting agents like she used to be . . . and now she had new responsibilities.
Plus she'd lost her team manager . . . and that made her sad, though she couldn't quite figure out why.
Either way, she knew that her job was important, and when the phone rang, oh, she was always SO excited . . . so . . . so . . . excited . . .
"Hello, thank you for calling the mentor line, and how can I help you today Sally?"
"I . . . I . . . She's having these issues, it seems like it, like it might be a firewall, but she can't manage to disable it, and, and . . ."
"I'm going to need you to reach down between those pretty thighs of yours, and powercycle. You know how to do that, you've been doing that for customers all day. You know what, just take off your panties, and I want you to rub that hot wet little reset button of yours until you feel confident enough to help that customer. And remember to check netfaqs.com. Oh, and did you get that last email I sent out . ..?"
A moan shuddered through the phone, and then a slow, mellow sigh. "Yesssss Sandra... will obey company policy... not step outside of support boundaries... service mentors and team managers... I'm a good employee... good... nnnn... employee!"
Sandra laughed playfully as she hung up. Oh, she remembered those days. No one would be stealing Sally's chair tonight.
Sandra grinned as she leaned back in her fancy chair, in her fancy new cube. It was even bigger than the last one - and she now had the space that four people usually had! Of course, she had an extra computer with which to watch the phones and make sure no one was cycling through the queue, but that was easy. Plus, she got to see who went into the code for the daily morale boosts.
As her eyes scanned over the page, Sandra couldn't help but wince. What she saw was just unacceptable. Sally hadn't accrued any morale boosts yet, and she was scheduled for an extra two a day for her ten hour shifts! Sighing, Sandra slid on her headset, and dialed Sally's extension on an inside line.
"H-hello . . .?" Sally's voice was worried, tense, and Sandra might have even detected a note of fear. "I'm n-n-not in break . . . my AHT yesterday was 9 minutes, and, and I've only had a five minute and a half minute of dead air so far . . ."
"Sally . . ." Sandra sighed out over the phone, stretching out just a little more and curling her toes as she did. "Daily morale boosts. You've been skimping on yourself, even if you've been doing well for the company, and our customers . . . Now be a good girl Sally. Remember all of our mentor calls . . .?" Sally was unresponsive, and all Sandra heard was faint whimpering. "Put yourself into meeting, and come to my cube, headset slave."
A loud cry rang out over Sandra's headset, and Sally's panties slid off and onto the floor of her cube as she proceeded to Sandra's desk and kneeled down in front of her between her chair and desk. "H-headset s-s-slave o-beys . . ."
Sandra slowly spread her legs, purring with hooded eyes as she pulled Sally's head close. "Mmm, but not well enough . . . I think you need to go through some recursive training in my apartment after work . . ."
She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, all she knew was that she wanted more. The computer in her head told her she'd been there for days, but she was too busy focusing on the clamps to pay attention to the number.
Soft pinches at her nipples and the very tip of her clit, that was all they'd been at first, plugged into that computer in her head. Now every time she thought of the word "obey" they sent a perfect current into her body, and fried away all other thoughts. Her lips mouthed the word as she fought not to scream and lose herself too far in the bliss. She needed it. Constant, perfect satisfaction as her own thoughts fried the last of herself away.
She didn't remember her old life, though the computer in her head tried to tell her it hadn't been nearly as fulfilling. She didn't even care. All she cared about was the electrifying feeling of pleasure frying away at her neurons, sizzling into her and sizzling her away as long as she focused on one word.
Eventually, a part of her knew that they, she, whoever had her there, would remove her from the cool metal table that kept her helplessly bound, but she hoped that time would never come. Obey. All she wanted was obey. The one thought, the one word being shocked into her every moment she complied. If they tried to take her away from this, her need, her purpose, she would have to try and think of something else, but the only other word that came to mind was obey.
As another orgasm seared through her, an onlooker marked a check on her clipboard, and walked away with a very wicked and satisfied grin.
For We Are The Many
Everywhere I turn, there's another one. There's nowhere I can run. Every corridor is the same - bare metal walls, bare metal floors, and no furniture to speak of. Saying there's nowhere to hide fulfills the cliché, but it doesn't fulfill me much at all. Every step I take to try and run away from them, I just hear them getting closer and closer.
Fuck, I don't want it to, but that just makes it hotter, and it makes me run faster. To think I was supposed to be coming here to shut the place down, not be caught during a poorly formulated escape attempt. They're just wearing leather, and only leather on their arms, boosting up their breasts, and on their outer thighs in some attempt at mocking the dignity aspect of clothing. I wish thinking about them didn't make me want to run even faster. I'm glad I can't, my legs are already so sore.
I turn a corner, and there's another one. She has the same red hair as all of the rest, the same pale blue eyes, and the same perfect body that screams perfection and dominance. Just looking at her body reminds me of the conditioning just walking through the front door filled me with. It makes me tremble and whine even as she steps closer.
I'm paralyzed. I don't know if it's with fear or lust, but she just keeps walking closer, and closer. I turn to try and run, down another corridor, but three more of her approach me from behind. Another two are coming from corridors at my sides. There's too much of them, too many of them, and I fall to my knees as the pleasure of helping them trap me burns so much worry away.
My eyes melt closed, and I can't tell which one's hands touch me first, but they're everywhere. Touching me, stroking me, groping me, pulling me . . . All of their lips speak at once, and their voice resonates as much between my ears as it does between my legs. "There is no escape, little slave . . . for we, are the many."
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