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
Β©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...