Jerry smiled in appreciation. "Very nice. You will do nicely. Sit on the bed."She did.
Jerry began exploring her dresser. He quickly found her lingerie drawer and examined each little garment. Becky felt she would die from embarassment. She was furious, but could not say anything. He divided her undies into two piles, then pointed at one pile. "You will discard these. Never to be worn again." The rest he returned to her dresser.
"Come here." Like a puppet, she obeyed. "Becky, put on a fashion show, using the undies left in your dresser. Show each one to me, tell me about it, where you got it, why you bought it. Then put it on and model it for me. I want you to go through the entire collection. Begin."
He seated himself on the bed. Becky, mortified with embarassment, found herself helplessly obeying. One by one, she took tiny bikini panties, half-slips, nighties, panty-hose, and teddies from the drawer. With each, she faced him, held the item up for his inspection, and gave a little description: "These are flowered white panties...I...I think I got them at Nordstrom...I bought them 'cause I thought they looked nice against my tan..."
Then, again without the slightest ability to resist, she found herself removing the previous garment and donning the new one. Once it was on, she turned around slowly, to allow Jerry to appreciate it on her body. Occasionally, he directed her to bend over or assume some other pose. Once or twice, he had her put on another item to go with one she had just put on.
The "fashion show" seemed to go for hours and hours. At last, before she had gone through every garment, her mother returned. She carried bags and bags of lingerie into Becky's room, and still more bags. Becky's eyes widened. There were hundreds of lovely nylon panties, slips, baby-doll nighties, and other things. A riot of soft pastel colors, florals, and shiny fabric.
Recovering from her surprise at this deluge of undies, Becky pleaded to her mother, "Mom, help--he's making me do things--making me undress and show him my panties! Make him stop! I don't like it!..."
Her mother smiled. "Now, Becky, Jerry is our Master. We must obey him. You were born to serve and please him--that's why I raised you. I want you to be a good little slave and obey the Master. You belong to him, now."
In shock, Becky began pleading anew. But this time, Jerry made a gesture. She fell silent and approached him, still dressed only in her revealing nylon outfit.
"All right. Enough of this game." Turning to the mother, he said, "I shall now bind your daughter to me, even as you are bound. Watch as I complete her enslavement."
He reached out with the Amp. With practised ease, he adjusted Becky's mind. The teen gasped, a little "oh" of surprise and pleasure, as his mind entered hers and began installing controls. In a few moments, the process was complete. Becky, 18 years old, fell to her knees in helpless worship of her Master.
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