The Elevator
Copyright© 2026 by littlefrog454
Chapter 2
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Tom gets trapped in an elevator with Amy, a fellow law student, and she tells him she is extremely claustrophobic. She also confesses to him, that her psychiatrist who has been treating her for her claustrophobic panic attacks since she was 10, has turned her into a hypnotized sex slave, while they are trapped in the dangling elevator. The bottom line is she now needs poor Tom to hypnotize her before her meds quit working, and she goes crazy, or catatonic. Can poor Tom refuse? Can Tom
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Hypnosis Mind Control NonConsensual Slavery BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Mother Brother Sister
The holiday came and went. I didn’t hear, or read anything, in the local news or TV about the courthouse. Monday rolled around, and it was time for night school again. Monday was Probate, taught by Roberts. Sure enough there was Amy at her regular table. She clerked for the Presiding Judge by day and attended night law school after the courthouse closed. I don’t really know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t her coldly looking straight through me like I was invisible, or just didn’t exist to her. I mean she was like ice-cold to me.
After class I took the elevator (Yes, it was fixed as good as new) back up to the law library. A little while latter Amy came in and started pulling books too. In the very back of the library is a large meeting room for the local Bar Association. Most of the time it’s closed and locked, but today for some reason it was open I noticed. A little latter as I walked past the open door Amy hooked my arm and quickly pulled me into the room and quickly, but silently, closed the heavy oak door and locked it behind us.
I don’t know what I was going to say, but once again Amy, or was it Ann, took the decision away from me by reaching out and firmly French kissing me on the mouth. As our tongues fought for supremacy, her hands found my belt buckle, then the zipper to my blue jeans. Soon enough she had me backed against the long heavy oak table in the middle of the room, my large fully erect cock exposed, and ready to be inserted into her very wet and ready Slot B. Maybe this is a good time to describe what Amy was dressed in, or better yet how she dressed.
I had never seen Amy dressed in anything other than what some describe as women’s power suits. With men there is the good old Two-piece, Three-piece, and even the formal Four-piece suit. That is coat, vest, dress shirt, necktie or bow tie, trousers, and shoes. If we talk about the opposite sex and what women prefer in men, we see that about 60% of women prefer men who wear traditional neckties. Also, the studies say about 72% of women are impressed by men who show up wearing a necktie on their first date.
With women their suit trousers, slacks, even have pockets today, and are sometimes replaced with form hugging short pencil skirts. Amy seemed to favor a sleek gray pen-stripped double-breasted button down design coat, or blazer, with a deep V-neckline. Most of the time she wore a white dress shirt under the coat, and had a tie-died necktie around her lovely neck. She also wore strappy 4” stiletto heels with her suit. At the moment she wasn’t wearing the trousers, or a skirt, not even a miniskirt. Also the coat was unbuttoned and open, and the dress shirt was unbuttoned with the tie undone and hanging loose around her lovely neck.
I didn’t need an engraved formal invitation, and was soon humping her on the long heavy wooden table in the center of the room. As her arms and hands held us closely together I used mine to expose her shapely breasts, and was soon sucking on them, which seemed to drive her even wilder. I would like to brag that I lasted for hours, and hours, and completely dominated, and exhausted her, but the honest truth is I wasn’t prepared, and didn’t last that long, and soon enough I came in her. That left me and my cock exhausted and hanging limp once more.
Sure I had my fun, I had climaxed, ejaculated into her once, but I had never felt, or sensed, that she had her own orgasm. Yes, I know that according to popular porn fiction dominate males stay erect for hours, and hours, and always have multiple orgasms. But, the truth is that 61% of men orgasm every time they have sex, but only 30% of straight women do, whereas lesbian women report they orgasm 40% of the time, according to recent surveys. According to the same survey of 1,000 men, by Lovehoney, two-thirds of men, 67%, have experienced multiple orgasms, which means one-third, 33%, don’t.
Multiple orgasms can be either sequential (when you orgasm, rest, and then orgasm again), or serial (one orgasm after another with no rest in between). Most men have more luck with sequential orgasms. Taking a 20-minute rest, known as the recovery period while they recover post-orgasm. This time lapse usually increases as men get older, and they also tend to enjoy the extra oxytocin (known as the love hormone, which is secreted during sex) flooding their brain. Then they go back for round two!
While it’s common, well, not uncommon, for females to have multiple orgasms, most males have to have a recovery period to recuperate. OH, there are a handful of men out there who can keep an erections to the point of ejaculating time after time, but those men’s sperm count after that first ejaculations falls dramatically. These are not functional ejaculations, but ejaculations of pride and indulgence I guess you would have to say. There is no natural logical biological reason for multiple male orgasms. In fact, the male human body has almost no capacity to store more than one load of sperm at a time.
Inside the male body, sperm live, die and quickly mutate. In fact, the testicles have to hang below the body because sperm can only be produced at temperatures slightly below that of the human body itself. Once produced, sperm can only be stored in limited quantities and only live for a few days. So, why would a male have a need for multiple orgasms if he can only produce enough sperm to lead to the one pregnancy? The real limiting factor here is the tenuous life expectancy of sperm.
Hey, I’m not saying I didn’t have a good time, I most certainly did, but I knew in my own mind that I did not satisfy Amy. Normally, on a date I would have had condoms, and at least one little blue pill in my wallet in case I got lucky, but this time I had neither. But, never let it be said that Tom Glover failed to rise to the occasion. Of course, maybe, “rise to the occasion”, is sort of a misnomer, ha, ha. I’m not sure that nimble fingers, and a educated tongue, qualifies as natural sex toys, but I did proudly leave poor Amy, or Ann, exhausted and pleasured out on the table that night.
Of course, it left me exhausted, too. I woke up hours latter seated in one of the oversized, and overstuffed, leather covered chairs with Amy, or Ann knelling between my legs sucking me off. Yes, it seemed my cock at least had fully recovered, but I was a little confused about how I had gotten into the chair. Looking down at her bobbing head of long blond hair I wondered where all this was going to end up. I also found myself, well, my confused self, wondering if I was in control of anything.
At almost the same time I found myself ready to cum. Most of the time I like to think I’m a kind, considerate and even a gentle lover, but tonight I discovered a cruel even sadistic streak in myself I had never had before. As I was about to ejaculate I grabbed Amy’s head firmly with both my hands and forced her head all the way down on my stiff cock. With her head held down like that, I bucked my cock deep down her throat. Soon her cute little nose was actually pushed into my scrotum, and I was delivering load after load of pearly white cum down her throat, directly into her stomach.
At first she struggled, and tried her best, to pull her head away, pleading with me with her wide open terrified brown, hazel eyes, as gobs of my pearly white cum began to leak out of her mouth that was still tight around my cock, and my cum was even coming from her nose as she choked and gagged. Finally, she just gave up, went limp and accepted it all. Yes, I knew that she didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and I really couldn’t explain, even to myself, why I did it even to my shocked self. When I was through I found out she had passed out. I checked that she was breathing good, nothing stuck in her airway to block it, and she had a steady pulse.
Then I scooped her limp body up off the floor and carried her over to the corner. I didn’t fancy a nap on the hard table in the center of the room. I also didn’t fancy trying to nap in one of the chairs either. On the other hand the carpeted floor was soft so I stretched her out on the carpet and then laid down beside her.
When I woke back up this time I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 3 AM, in the morning, the Witching Hour. Reaching over I nudged Amy, or Ann to get her attention and wake her up.
“Time to get up Bitch.” Once again, I couldn’t understand my new abusive behavior that I didn’t seem able to control.
“Yes, Master.” Amy, or Ann, acknowledged.
“So, tell me Slave, what happened after I left, and how do you happen to have the keys to this place now. But, first, which one are you, Amy of Ann?” I started off.
“This one is Amy, Master. You can regard this one as the default personality Master.” Amy explained to me, and yes, I caught the Master part right off.
“OK, Amy what happened?” I asked.
“You left me hypnotized and peacefully asleep on the floor of the elevator. The agents found me alone peacefully sleeping when they finally got the elevator to working again. They weren’t very smart, and didn’t find it unusual, just noting in the report that I was asleep when they found me. Anyway to make a long story short, the head Librarian has family business to attend to, and needed time off. I was there, I’m a trusted employee, and Wa-Lah, I’m the temporary Librarian for the next month Master.” Amy explained to me, and paused.
“You are now our one and only true Master ... Master, tee, hee, hee.” Amy explained and giggled cutely.
“OH, hello Ann.” I told Ann as I recognized the switch.
“You, noticed?” She asked, seeming surprised for some reason.
“OH, yes, the change is quite noticeable.” I told her honestly.
“So we have a lot of planning to do before we can just run off and disappear to the French Virgin Islands, or especially Saint Thomas Island, dear Master, Dr. Freedman, and the Consortium would track us down in no time if we left now, Master.” She was telling me when I realized that I hadn’t told her, or Amy, any of that.
“How do you know about the French Virgin Islands, or Saint Thomas Island for that matter Ann?” I questioned Ann.
“Well, if you must know Master, I hypnotized you.” She told me.
“You! You, hypnotized me? It’s you isn’t it?” I started.
“Yes, if you must know Master ... unlike sweet Amy ... I took the necessary steps to make you the Master we need. Consider yourself a work in progress Master.” She told me proudly.
“Work in progress indeed... “ At that point she cut me off.
“Besides, Master, you have no real money to speak of, and the French Virgin Islands, also known as Îles des Saintes ... or Les Saintes ... are just a small group of islands in the Caribbean. While owning a private island in the Caribbean was once only a dream for the ultra-wealthy, it’s possible to own an island on a lets say more modest budget today, but you will still need far more money than you have Master.” Ann told me seriously, and I have to admit I had trouble paying off my credit card each month.
“It was only an ideal ... a daydream really, Ann.” I told Ann seriously.
“A good daydream Master, one that I think we can eventually pull off with the proper preparations, but for now this one must play at being a loyal sex slave to the Consortium still.” Ann told me seriously.
“But it’s wrong to make anyone into a sex slave, Ann... “ I started, but Ann cut me off.
“Dear, sweet, kind, innocent Master, women have been using their ... their feminine wiles ... selling ... their bodies to get what they wanted since the beginning of time Master. All the way from the original Eve, in the original Garden of Eden, when she got poor Adam to steal, “the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” To Cleopatra, and Parisienne courtesan La Paiva, to the whole Kardashian family, it seems like, now, Master. The Consortium is only getting what I ... we ... were already being forced to give them, Tom.” Ann tried to explain.
“That’s still wrong.” I told her.
“Master, the Consortium, only picks from the top 1% or 2% of the female population, the ones picked only work as escorts... “ I broke in once more.
“You mean whores... “ I started, but Ann cut me off at that.
“Not whores, not even what you would term nymphomania, a term that dates back to the 19th century. Society at that time considered females with insatiable sexual desires ... or should I say sexual appetites ... it was viewed as delinquent behavior, and physicians at that time viewed it as nymphomania, a treatable medical condition. Over time, research has led to changes in the language used to describe hypersexual behavior... “ I broke back in at that point again.
“Nymphomania? Hypersexual behavior? Isn’t that the, “tomayto, tomahto”, argument Ann. A whore by any other name.” I told her honestly.
“Master, it seems that it is the males, you men, that still insist on exclusive ownership of us females. It is males that treat us as an exclusive breeding brood mare in their exclusive breeding stable. Using the promise of marriage, and marriage itself, as an excuse to exclusively own our bodies. Originally, long, long, ago, it may have been important to know who sired who, because of the line of succession and inheritance laws. But, that was in a time when a woman could not really control when, or by whom, she got pregnant by. This lead to the creation of harems for wives, and concubines. Today, all women, at least in theory, have a God given right and ability to chose when, where, and by whom, she chooses to have a child with.” Ann explained to me.
“So are you telling me you enjoy being a sex slave, Ann?” I questioned her.
“To say I enjoyed the sex is true for the most part Master, but to say I enjoyed being a owned property, a sex slave, would be a lie, Master. I can even say I sometimes like what some would call rough sex, but I do not like actually being physically beaten, abused, or tortured. Then again some women actually do like being physically beaten, abused, and tortured, and that again is a personal thing, Master. But, none of us truly likes being physically damaged, and/or killed. As a sex slave we had no rights, no choice, Master. Now, I have a choice.” Ann went on.
“So, now you have a choice, and that makes it better.” I asked, Ann.
“Not better, Master, ha, ha, as I’ve already said, Master, I enjoy sex to the utmost. I can go on pretending I’m their loyal sex slave because I enjoy sex, and because I want to pretend, not because I have to pretend, Master, ha, ha, ha.” Ann, explained and laughed out loud.
“Not better?” I questioned.
“With the imaginative use of hypnosis you can make any sex we have better, Master, tee, hee, hee.” Ann explained, and giggled cutely as I played with a nipple by dragging my finger tip around and around the stiff aroused nipple.
At the moment me and Ann, when we weren’t screwing in the library, or on the Bar Association’s table, were working and planning how to bringing the Consortium down. About the only tried and true means to bring a large deeply entrenched financial institution like the Consortium down is to attack it internally. Amsterdam is the capital, and most populated city of the Netherlands. It was majorly involved in slavery, and the slave trade from the late 16th century until the early 20th century, secretly it still is.
The Dutch, West India Company (WIC), was responsible for most of the slave trade, and Amsterdam was the main seat of the WIC. De Nederlandsche Bank Group, was a major owner/player in the Consortium, Ann found out, and they were still deeply involved in modern day slave trade. Of course, today it’s called human trafficking. It is the act of recruiting, transporting, transferring, harboring, or receiving individuals through force, fraud, or coercion for the purpose of exploitation. This exploitation may include forced labor, sexual slavery, or other forms of commercial sexual exploitation.
According to the International Labour Organization (ILO), forced labour alone (one component of human trafficking) generates an estimated $150 billion in profits per annum as of 2014. In 2012, the ILO estimated that 21 million victims are trapped in modern-day slavery. Of these, 14.2 million (68%) were exploited for labour, 4.5 million (22%) were sexually exploited, and 2.2 million (10%) were exploited in state-imposed forced labour.
The following is the breakdown of profits by sector: $99 billion from commercial sexual exploitation; $34 billion in construction, manufacturing, mining and utilities; $9 billion in agriculture, including forestry and fishing; $8 billion is saved annually by private households that employ domestic workers under conditions of forced labour. Although only 19% of victims are trafficked for sexual exploitation, it makes up 66% of the global earnings of human trafficking. The average annual profits generated by each woman in forced sexual servitude ($100,000) is estimated to be six times more than the average profits generated by each trafficking victim worldwide ($21,800).
Sex trafficking can be explained as a simple economic supply and demand model. In this model, male demand for prostitutes leads to a market for sex workers, which, in turn, fosters sex trafficking, the illegal trade and coercion of people into sex work, and pimps and traffickers become “distributors” who supply people to be sexually exploited. As if that wasn’t bad enough there is now a growing market for organs that can take different forms. In some cases, the victim agrees to sell an organ in exchange of money/goods. In other cases, the victim is compelled, or illegally coerced into giving up an organ. Finally, the victim may have the organ removed without the victim’s knowledge, or consent, even outright killed.
HSBC Bank USA, National Association, an American subsidiary of the British banking group HSBC, has it’s banking operational head office in New York City and its nominal head office in Tysons, Virginia. HSBC Bank USA, N.A ... The National Bank of Abu Dhabi, and Emirates NBD, made up two of the major banking groups we were after. With Ann’s insider information it was possible to ruin the Consortium.
It was amazing the amount of insider information a sex slave can pick up being around old jaded Masters. Old Masters that thought nothing about conducting business on their cell phone, or laptop computer, in front of their sex slave as she sucked them off. Account numbers, pin numbers, passwords, names, dates, files, all came tumbling out as the old fat pervert as he had his fun with his pet sex slave.
She, their loyal sex slave, was thought of more as a household appliance than an actual thinking feeling person. Appliance: a device, machine, or piece of equipment, especially an electrical one that is used domestically in the house, such as a vacuum cleaner, or washing machine.
Saudi Arabia was formed in 1971, and is next to the UAE peninsula which is now an economic powerhouse, and a major player on the global world market stage. It connects the East with West, with its seven emirates: Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm Al Quwain, Ras Al Khaimah and Fujairah. With our insider information manipulation of, gold, precious metals, bitcoin, ethereum, and litecoin, in the trading markets we were soon able to destabilize the Consortium. At the same time we were able to fill our own war chest with billions of dollars.
Once the Consortium was destabilized in the market place it was easy to pick off each individual part separately. Finally, the sex slaves themselves were auctioned off as, “Original Copyrighted Material”. Yes, Slavery, and/or Human Trafficing, is highly illegal, and selling people is frowned on everywhere officially. So, you weren’t buying sex slaves at the Internet auction, you were buying the: Names, Address, Descriptions, Skills, Trance Keys, and Hypnotic Triggers, of the enslaved men and women as, “Original Copyrighted Material”. All of it contained and encoded in a Little Black Book, and on a Trerabyte encrypted micro SD memory card in this case.
Copyrights are different from trademarks, which largely concern branding. It’s also different from patents, which protect inventions. A work doesn’t need to be published, and/or publicly available to be subject to copyright, but it must be expressed in a discrete, tangible form, and must be original. Though there are exceptions, copyright protection usually lasts for 70 years past the death of the work’s creator, after which the copyright is either renewed by the work’s successive, or purchasing owner, or the work enters the public domain.
As Ann explained to me much latter, among her many skills and talents was she was an expert Mistress, hypnotist, and exceptional trainer. I didn’t think much of it at the time, maybe I should have, but we ... I anyway ... was really busy with consolidating what we were acquiring. While Ann was handling the money, if you could really call it that. I mean bitcoin blockchains, and trading gold furtures, were a little over my head, so Ann was handling all that. Where we all slept, and what we ate was my department at the moment.
Since I now had money, enough money that I could do just about anything I wanted to do, or sat my mind to doing, I was soon going to be in charge of some ... it turned out many ... many former sex slaves. Having them now, I realized I needed a place to house, and feed them all. At the moment my, “Little Black Book”, contained the names, and addresses, of the age 18 and older working inventory of working girls, say from the age of 18 to 50. This was the legal working inventory, not the entire inventory which contained males, too.
I now needed a place to house and feed them all, a place that people wouldn’t notice a large sudden influx of women and some men 18 to 50. It hit me like a thunderbolt straight from heaven above that a state junior college like the one I was currently going to at the moment was perfect. I mean where else do you have a large age diverse fluctuating population living on campus 365 days a year. A place, or community actually, where there is nothing strange, or even unusual, about foreign exchange students that don’t even speak English being on campus and attending classes every day. Where you have mass housing dorms, and even open food courts and cafeterias that take script basically to feed them at hand. When I presented the ideal ... the concept ... to the girls they loved it.
Scrip (or chit in India) is any substitute for legal tender ... money ... cash. It is often a form of credit. Scrips have been created and used for a variety of reasons, including exploitative payment of employees under truck systems; or for use in local commerce at times when regular currency was unavailable, for example in remote coal towns, military bases, ships on long voyages, even occupied countries.
Jacksonville State Community Junior College was just what I needed I suddenly realized. When I explained this to Amy/Ann, and the others ... she told me she agreed, but she was too busy to help, and formally presented me with my two new assistants, or should I say, my first two newly minted sex slaves, April and May. Yes, she had somehow found, and turned my older twin sisters into my adoring sex slaves when I wasn’t looking.
As I’ve already said, I really should have been more observant when Ann told me that her talents were; as a Mistress, hypnotist, and trainer of sex slaves. Well, I like to think I would have resisted the urge ... foregone the urge ... of having my two older twin sisters turned into my two adoring pet sex slaves. But, at the same time I know deep down that’s just hypocrisy speaking, I’ve always had a thing ... Yes, admittedly a kinky, thing ... for my older twin sisters.
My first order to Ann was to prepare them both to lactate, at which she told me she was busy. Yes, it was mostly their own fault that I had grown up with an admittedly juvenile fascination for large breasts, large lactating breasts. Yes, even as kinky as that sounds, I wanted to actually nurse on my older sister’s breasts, those breasts that I still had wet dreams about growing up. And, no, I didn’t scold, or punish Ann and/or Amy for doing it, but I did tell them to leave Mom alone. At which they ... she ... just laughed.
Believe it or not researchers have found that bigger is not necessarily better when it comes to breasts. It seems that the most attractive bra sizes are C and D, beating out the smaller A and B, but also surprising the still larger E and F (this is using FRA/EU bra sizing). Anthropologists theorize that as breast size increases during pregnancy and lactation starts, there is a distinct possibility that over large breasts signal that a woman is not fertile at the moment (women are not fertile while nursing). Therefore, she is less attractive to men for sex, especially for short-term mating.
The Anthropologists also suggest that men may also discriminate against the larger-breasted women, “due to anticipated infidelity”. Research has shown that females with very large breasts are perceived as being more “promiscuous”, and/or “sexually open”. Females with smaller breasts on the other hand are perceived not only as loyal, moral, and modest, but also as competent, ambitious and intelligent.
Other researchers have found that the male preference for larger-breasted women can be even more deeply arbitrary. In one study it came down to whether or not the men were hungry at the time that they expressed their preferences between two bust profiles. This is part of a resource-scarcity hypothesis, wherein males with tenuous access to the basic needs of daily life tend to prefer females with larger breasts.
“What part of I’m busy didn’t you understand, Master. Train them yourself, Master.” Amy told me before walking away in a huff. That forced me to consult the good old Internet. Can you breastfeed if you haven’t been pregnant? Yes! You don’t need to have had a baby to lactate ... you just need the right hormonal state, and lots of nipple stimulation I soon found out.
Got milk? For some erotic lactation is a form of adult breastfeeding that is sexually arousing. This can be true for both the lactating partners, my older twin sisters, and the one who’s sucking, me. Certain couples experience erotic lactation as an intimate way to connect with each other. Some breastfeeders also report that they experience arousing nipple stimulation from their partner suckling at their breast. Many women find nipple stimulation very sexually pleasurable, and it can even cause some women to orgasm.
Inducing lactation works by mimicking a pregnancy, and inducing a post-partum hormonal state. During pregnancy, the body produces estrogen, progesterone, and prolactin to prepare the breast for milk production. To mimic this state, medical professionals most often prescribe a combination of nipple stimulation exercises, and synthetic estrogen-progestin oral contraceptives, better known as, the “Pill”.
There are two types of birth control pills. Both contain hormones that keep you from getting pregnant. (1) Combination pills contain estrogen and progestin, the most common, and (2) Progestin-only pills, also called “the minipill”. There are also other medications and supplements that can help increase the production of prolactin. These foods, and herbal suppliments are called galactagogues.
Some people ... well, young girls anyway ... are able to induce lactation with just simple experimentation, simple nipple stimulation. Nipple stimulation promotes milk production because when your body thinks that someone’s trying to feed from you, it responds by increasing prolactin secretion. However, it usually takes several weeks of breast pumping, or manual stimulation, to actually start producing milk.
Also if you’re stressed, you might struggle with producing milk. Some common medications, including diphenhydramine (an antihistamine), and pseudoephedrine (a decongestant), can make it harder for your body to secrete prolactin and therefore decrease the amount of milk you produce. Smoking, heavy alcohol consumption, and estrogen-containing hormonal contraceptives have also all been associated with reduced breast milk production.
In addition, some of the supplements and medications commonly used for lactation induction can have harmful side effects. Metoclopramide and Domperidone are often used to increase prolactin levels, but can also cause anxiety, restlessness, fatigue, drowsiness, dry mouth, headache, dizziness, diarrhea, and itchy skin. Domperidone also isn’t approved, or regulated, by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in the United States because it’s been linked to cardiac safety risks.
Mother had the Twins tubes tied, also known as tubal ligation, or tubal sterilization, when they turned 13. During this surgery, the fallopian tubes are cut and tied to prevent pregnancy for the rest of your life. Tubal ligation prevents an egg from moving from the ovaries and down to the uterus through the fallopian tubes. It also blocks sperm from traveling up the fallopian tubes to the egg. The procedure doesn’t affect their menstrual cycle so they were not on anything else. In my opinion this is the safest ... most natural ... means of birth control.