General Disclaimers: While it features no ‘on-screen’ sexual activity or explicit adult situations, this hypnofetish story does contain examples of fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want hot wet thrusting monkey-sex in your on-line pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now!

Permission granted to re-post for free to any electronic medium, as long as no one's being charged to view it, and this disclaimer and e-mail address ( are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.

Copyright Voyer, 2005.

Specific Disclaimers: If you haven't, you'll want to read part seven first.

Mary woke up.

The Music was spinning its endless loop inside her head, but it was oddly muffled and faint.

There was the taste of metal and grain in her mouth: a loaded spoon.

She was eating breakfast.

She swallowed the bite of cereal, put down the spoon, and looked down at the white tray stretched once again across her lap as she sat up in bed. Cereal, toast, juice. Everything seemed to be in order, except..

She became aware that someone was looking at her.

Staring up at her.

It was her slave. The blonde woman was kneeling silently on the carpet beside the bed, staring up at Mary with unblinking worshipful eyes.

Mary smiled tolerantly, and patted the other woman on the head. The slave wriggled with pleasure as Mary turned back to her study of the tray. What was wrong?

No. She smiled again. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was out of order. There was just an addition: a carefully-folded newspaper laying alongside the food. The Times.

Still... It was a little odd; Mary was just thinking that she needed to become better informed about the issues of the day, in case Important People ever came to visit and wished to discuss them with her. And even though there was a Times box right out in front of the apartment, except for occasional glances in the Adeline staff break room, she hadn’t looked at a newspaper in months.

She’d have to get a subscription. Squeeze that onto the Agenda at the first opportunity. Speaking of which..

She glanced at the clock, and mentally ran through the Agenda for the day. Do morning chores. Go to work. Make money. Once work was finished, go see Clover. Then back home and..

Go back to sleep.

She wriggled herself.

She started to glance at the clock again, but then with a blink of surprise realized that she could see the seconds and minutes ticking methodically away inside her head, right there alongside the Agenda. No, fully integrated into the Agenda. She flickered another smile. She’d never need an exterior clock again.

She gestured to the clock.

“Unplug that.”

The slave crawled over, found the clock’s plug and extracted it from the wall. The digital display went dark. No more wasting electricity on that.

Mary’s eyes roamed around the rest of the room, noting for the first time what a useless collection of bric-a-brac she had assembled. She’d get rid of all of it. Sell what she could, and make money. Give the rest to charity.

But not today. It wasn’t on the Agenda.

She did have time, however, for the newspaper. She spread it out, as the slave resumed her position by the bed. Between more bites of cereal, Mary read every last article. Protests against the Mayor were heating up again. Senator Bedfellow was caught up in yet another corruption scandal. (The cartoon on the editorial page, by some artist named Theramon, had grubby-looking caricatures of the two men sitting in a nest together over the title “Birds of A Feather.”) A tornado had ripped through a town called Gale, Kansas, destroying a few homes. There were worries about the state’s wheat crop. The hapless University basketball team had finally won a game. There was a moderately positive review of a new play called Awful Green Things; she remembered that Adeline had sold the production company some odds and ends.

She read the comics and didn’t laugh once, which made her strangely sad for a moment, even uneasy.

Didn’t I always use to laugh at the comics, when I read them?

Her hand floated and she fell into the Green and the thought and the emotion were instantly swept away.

Back to reading. She scanned the classifieds, and realized she was looking to see if anyone was looking to hire a masseuse. No luck. But there would always be tomorrow or the next day.

Finally she was finished with both the meal and the paper. She deposited the remains of both on the tray, dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, and gestured again to the slave.

“Remove that.”

The slave hopped to her feet and did so, her bare feet silent on the carpet as she pushed open the door to the living room and disappeared from sight. The Music grew louder, coming through the crack in the door.

Mary threw back the covers and got up.

She arranged her nightie and her hair, washed the newspaper ink from her hands in the bathroom, and strode into the living room.

The full soothing power of the Music swept over her as she came through the door and she paused for a moment, feeling her brain sink deeper into it.

The tall spindly Wabe was perched on its collection of legs in the center of the coffee-table, industriously peeping away, its power cord snaking away to the wall socket, joining the one coming from the minibar. Angelita was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in Mary’s discarded newspaper. Mary’s slave was in the kitchen, washing up the dishes. The latter woman turned the second Mary’s gaze fell on her, but Mary sent her back to scrubbing with a flick of the wrist.

Angelita more belatedly became aware of Mary’s presence, and hopped to her feet.

“Morning, Boss.” She shuffled the paper awkwardly. “I hope you don’t mind me reading your paper, but I-”

Mary waved dismissively, then stroked the Wabe with a finger. The metal was wonderfully slick and cool under her skin.

“Don’t be silly, Angelita. We all need to become better informed about the issues of the day, in case Important People ever come to visit and wish to discuss them with us. It was very clever of you to go downstairs and buy it.”

Angelita dropped her gaze in embarrassment.

“Thanks, Boss! I used your spare key to get back into the building. It’s over there on the counter.”

“And you did a good job with breakfast as well.”

“Thanks, Boss. Your slave helped, of course. Although...”

“Yes, Angelita?”

“It’s just..” Angelita shot a glance towards the kitchen and lowered her voice. “She seems to have stopped talking, Boss. I’m pretty sure I remember her talking before.”

“Of course she can talk. You can talk, can’t you, slave?”

The slave turned and bobbed a curtsey, holding a juice glass one hand. She spoke, just above a whisper.

“Yes, Mistress, I can talk.”

“Good. When you’re done there, go make my bed.”

The slave bobbed again, and Mary flicked her back to work before returning her attention to Angelita.

“You see?”

“Of course, Boss. Sorry Boss.”

“You’re forgiven. Now then...” Mary consulted the Agenda and an item flared up Green. “ is Teresa?”

Angelita waved a hand towards the stereo.

“She’s still asleep, Boss.”

Mary followed the gesture.

Teresa was standing near the minibar, swaying slightly to the Music. As Angelita had noted, while her piece of the Light was floating, her eyes were closed, and her head drooped to one side. Mary had to raise an eyebrow upon noticing what the woman was wearing; a surprisingly flimsy and gauzy nightie, colored a nice shade of red. Mary didn’t know that Teresa owned such a garment.

been holding out on us, huh?

Angelita evidently interpreted the pause as disapproval.

“I thought you’d want to be the one who-”

“Yes, yes, Angelita. You did the right thing.”

Mary crossed over to the sleeping woman, and touched the Light to her forehead.

“Wake up.”

Teresa’s eyes flipped open, and she smiled as she raised her head.

“Good morning, Mary.”

“Good morning, Teresa. Did you dream during the night?”

“Oh, no! I never dream!”

“And are you still unhappy and confused?”

Teresa stared at her blankly, her hand still floating.

“No, Mary. Of course not.” She stared into the Light. “Why should I be unhappy or confused?”

“No reason.” Mary turned with a swirl. “All right everyone. Time to start our day. First, Angelita, please lead us in a few stretches.”

“Oh! Sure thing, Boss!”

The slave passed by, on her way to the bedroom, but Mary stopped her.

“Forget the bed for the moment, slave. You may join us.”

Teresa made a noise, and Mary pivoted sharply to face her.

“Yes, Teresa? You have a comment?”

Teresa stared at the ground.

“Nothing, Mary.”

“No. I insist that you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Teresa squirmed.

“I.. I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do.. and like I said, I’m not unhappy, but..”


“It’s wrong to keep slaves.”

Mary raised her eyebrow.

“How so?”

“I don’t know! Morally! You just can’t..” Teresa rubbed at her temple. “I’ve read stories about my ancestors, when I was making up my genealogy chart. Some of them were slaves. It.. they weren’t happy!”

“Oh. Is that what’s bothering you?” Mary gestured to her slave. “Come here.”

The slave scurried over and knelt at Mary’s feet. Mary stoked her blonde hair again.

“You’re happy, aren’t you, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress!” The slave wriggled again. “I am so deliriously happy! I’m soo deep in the Green now!” Then she blinked as if a switch had been flipped, and looked for a long moment at the Wabe. She glanced slyly at Teresa. “If my Mistress desires it, I could show Miss Cartwright why slavery is a good thing.”

Mary considered, reached out and placed her fingertip on the Wabe again, in the same slickcool spot as before...

the only spot we’re allowed to touch..

It felt so good to touch the Wabe..

It made everything even more peaceful and calm and morally clear.

She dropped her hand and nodded.

“All right, slave. Go ahead.”

“Um, Boss? I’m really not sure that this is a good-”

“Be quiet, Angelita.”

The slave rose to her feet, and took gentle hold of the hand that was chained to Mary’s piece of the Light. She lifted it and moved it closer to Teresa, who watched with horrified fascination.

The slave shined the Light deep into Teresa’s brain.

“See how lovely the Light is, Teresa? See how deep it takes you into the Green?”


The Light floated back and forth..

“Nothing now but the Green, deep and sweet and clean. And my voice.”

“Your voice...”

“And now your will is fading away. Into the Green. Fading, and gone.”


“You are a slave, like me. You have no will, no identity. You exist only to serve. You desire only to serve. And to obey.”


A strange, almost heretical thought passed through Mary’s mind: it was almost a shame that the slave was a slave; had things been different, she clearly would have made a very good Mistress.

But of course things couldn’t be different.

“Kneel, slave.”

Teresa... the new slave.. fell to her knees. The first slave patted her on the head.

“Now do you understand, slave?”

The second slave shuddered.

“Oh.. oh, yes! Now this slave understands! The Green.. it’s so deep.. it goes down so far..”

“It goes down forever.”

“Yess.. yess... forever... please.. give this slave an order to obey.”

“No.” The first slave let go of Mary’s piece of the Light and snapped her fingers. “You are no longer a slave.”

“Uhh!” The slave.. Teresa.. spasmed. “Oh, God!” She crawled to Mary’s feet. “Miss Mary! Please! Make me a slave again! Please! Please!”

“Sh.” Mary nudged the black woman with her foot. “That’s enough of that. If you want to ever be a slave again, it’s a privilege that you must earn. Do you understand?”

Teresa drooped, then rose; the slave instantly took her place at Mary’s feet.

“Yes, Miss Mary.”

Mary smiled at Angelita.

“See, Angelita? No problem.”

“Right, Boss.” Angelita didn’t sound convinced. But she glanced at the Wabe, and then relaxed a little.

“OK. Now then.” Mary clapped her hands briskly. “Time for us to do some stretches!”

Mary, the slave, and Teresa all lined up in front of Angelita, who touched the Wabe then faced them, obviously feeling better.

“Stand at attention!”

The three of them straightened up and thrust out their chests.

Angelita paced around them, examining them from various angles. Evidently satisfied, she listened to the Music for a moment, moved her hips experimentally, then shook her head.

“This part of the Music is of course perfect and wonderful, but we need a different part for this. Something just a little bit more vigorous.”

Mary started to speak.

“Yes, I think-”

“Boss, be quiet. I wasn’t talking to you. No unauthorized talking during morning stretches!”

Properly chastised, Mary fell silent and tried to pull herself up even straighter.

Angelita eyed her to make sure further discipline wasn’t required, then gave a sharp, almost disappointed, nod.

“Now then. As I was saying. Something a little more vigorous, Teresa, but still part of the Music?”

Teresa stared at her in nervous silence. Angelita rolled her eyes.

“When I ask you a direct question, girl, you are authorized to answer.”

“Yes, Lita.” Teresa blinked and gave a twitch as her brain reset itself. “I mean, yes, Miss Angelita! I know just the thing!” She started to move, stopped herself, slapped her arms back against her sides, staring straight ahead. “Permission to leave the line, Miss Angelita?”


Teresa hurried over to the stereo. Mary didn’t dare turn her head to watch, but from the clicking plastic sounds, Teresa was sorting through the piles of CDs she had brought over last night. As this happened, Mary noted absently that one of the things on Teresa’s section of today’s Agenda was carting off and selling all of Mary’s old music at Tuneworld. Mary nodded with satisfaction.


Evidently Teresa finally found what she was looking for, and the Music stopped as she swapped discs.

All four women twitched wretchedly in the momentary silence.

The Music started up again, and yes, it was far more vigorous. Teresa ran back to her position in the Line, her silks floating out behind her.

Miss Angelita imitated Mary’s clap of a few moments ago.

“Yes. Much better. All right then! Minds blank, and begin!”

Mary’s mind went blank.

They began.

Continued in Part Nine

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