Monica awoke from her slumber at the same time she always did; 6:00 AM. Bright and early. She slid out from under the covers of her bed and stood. She lingered for a moment, her mind dazed and cloudy. Part of it was from still being groggy, no doubt. But another part of it was the fact that these first few moments of the morning were the only parts of her day where Monica's mind was awake with the rest of her.

She had been a live-in maid for her Master, Robert, for the better part of the last year. They'd met online, on a forum for hypno kinksters, and had quickly hit it off. They'd eventually agreed to meet in person, which quickly led to a relationship. Hypnosis had always been a part of their relationship, but Monica had always that she still wanted more. Her kink went way beyond some simple triggers or personality play. So after three years of dating, she revealed to Robert her biggest fantasy.

Ever since she had discovered her love of hypnosis, she had been fascinated by the idea of a trance that could last indefinitely. She had proposed this idea to Robert, and to her surprise, he told her that he could make that happen. They'd been together long enough for her to trust him, so she had accepted.

Over a period of a few weeks, Robert had conditioned her brain to be able to stay in trance for longer periods of time; first an hour, then several, then eventually entire days. Once they were confident it could be done, they'd agreed on what her role would be. She'd be Robert's live-in maid, taking care of the house and providing for him when he was home.

And that was how Monica had spent most of the last year; serving her boyfriend, her Master, as his maid, in a state of perpetual trance. Well, near-perpetual, anyways. Truly permanent trance was something they quickly discovered wasn't really possible; Monica's mind always came back to her when she woke up in the morning. So they settled for the next best thing.

She walked over to the mirror that sat along her wall, and looked at it, her naked body reflected back at her. She always slept naked; although she still had all her old clothes, her uniform was the only thing she was allowed to wear in the house, and sleeping in it might damage it.

She reached for her uniform; a typical French maid outfit, which hung from a hanger hooked to the frame of the mirror. As she grabbed it, she felt a twinge of excitement underneath the fog in her mind. She spent so much of her time in trance, mindlessly serving, that these brief moments of sentience always felt strange. Her thoughts came in disjointed fragments, as though her mind had to relearn every morning how to think for herself.

She began to dress herself, stepping into the lacy back stockings and pulling them up over her legs, before doing the same to her matching panties. As she dressed herself, she began to speak. All the while, she never looked away from the mirror, staring herself in the eyes through her reflection.

"I am my Master's maid."

"Maids always obey."

As she spoke her mantras, she felt the fog filling her mind more and more. Her well-practiced routine began to take effect, as the words rendered her more and more mindless; their solution to the lucidity of the morning.

"Maids don't think for themselves."

"My body knows what to do, so my mind stays silent."

"Good maids are quiet and polite."

"A maid always comes when called."

She continued speaking as she pulled the straps of her outfit up over her shoulders. At this point, her mind was already gone, but the routine wasn't over quite yet. Her body automatically reached down to the pair of black high-heels that sat on the floor beside the mirror. She sat on the foot of the bed, and looked herself right in the eyes once more as her hands guided the heels onto her feet.

If she was aware enough, she might have noticed the change in her face and posture. Even though she was seated, her back was straight and her shoulders high.

"A good maid carries herself well."

Her face was slackened, her cheeks devoid of tension as she spoke. Her eyes gazed sightlessly at herself, wide and glassy. Her dilated pupils almost gave the appearance of black holes, which was rather fitting. By this point in her morning routine, Monica, the person, was already deeply asleep once more. Her mind was quiet and vacant, paying no attention to anything around her, or to what she was doing. No thoughts found their way into her head, as the words of her mantra pushed anything else away, circling over and over through the emptiness of her mind.

"A good maid stays mindless."

As she spoke the next words, she stood, and walked into her bathroom. She pulled out her makeup bag, and began applying it carefully, in the exact style her Master liked. She painted her nails a deep red. All the while, her mantra continued.

"A good maid is pretty for Master."

She finished her routine, carefully putting her makeup away, before stepping out of the bathroom, then out of her bedroom and into the hall.

She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Deep in her subconscious, she knew her first task was to make Master his breakfast. She took the ingredients out, and began cooking. She deftly prepared the food, cracking eggs and simmering bacon, as her subconscious perfectly guided her motions. 

On the outside, she was the picture of focus, expertly preparing a meal big enough for the two of them. Inside her mind, however, there was no awareness of what she was doing. Her well-trained subconscious guided her along as she cooked, freeing up her mind for the endless loop, a litany of reinforcement that would last all day.

"Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless. Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless. Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless."

As her body worked, the words repeated in a loop, echoing over and over through her empty mind. Her mouth may have stopped speaking it, but her mantras were with her every moment of the day, the only thing allowed to occupy her otherwise vacant mind.

She finished cooking, and prepared two plates, one for Master and one for her. She sat them down on opposite sides of the table, then laid out silverware. Once the table was set, she went about washing the dishes. It went quickly at this point, as the motions were practically second nature. Once she was done, she took her place, standing beside her seat, and waited for Master to come to breakfast. A maid never eats without her Master, after all.

After about ten more minutes, she saw her Master walk through the kitchen door.

"Good morning, Master! Breakfast is ready."

This morning greeting was one of the few times she was allowed to address him first. A good maid is quiet, after all.

"I can see that. It smells delicious. Well done, maid."

She nodded and smiled.

"Thank you, Master.'

Pleasure washed over her body at his words. It wouldn't be accurate to say she felt it, exactly. Her conscious mind was still far too empty, save for her mantras, to notice. But her body still registered the feeling, and the pleasure of obedience was reinforced in her subconscious.

Her Master sat down and began eating, and gestured for her to do the same. And so she did. The two sat in silence, her Master scrolling the news on his laptop. Monica sat there, staring blankly off into space, a vacant, happy smile on her face.

After a few minutes, her Master handed her his plate. She quickly took it, and her own, over to the sink, and washed them as well. Once she was done, she began moving to leave the room, to begin her daily tasks, before she was stopped by her Master's voice.

"Wait a moment, maid."

She instantly froze, turning to face her Master.

"Yes, Master?"

He slid his chair back slightly, still not looking in her direction.

"I have some emails to respond to before I go into work this morning. I'd like some entertainment while I do so."

One of his hands reached down to his pants button as he spoke.

"I want you to suck me off," he said plainly, as he slid his pajama pants down his legs.

"Of course, Master," she said. Pleasuring him was part of her tasks, of course, though it usually came at the end of the day. "How would you like me to perform?"

"I'd like it slow. I think I'll be here a while."

"Yes, Master," she said, walking over to him. She gently lowered herself to her knees, before crawling in front of him, halfway under the table.

Her hand reached out and softly grabbed his cock, lifting it up to his stomach. She stuck her tongue out, and licked a gentle line from his balls up to the tip, before bringing her tongue up to lick the slit. She repeated this motion a few times, giving the occasional lick to his balls as well, until she felt his shaft harden in her grip.

She licked up his length again, but this time let her lips wrap around the head. Her tongue began tracing circles around it, as one hand formed a ring around the base. The other reached down to gently cup his testicles.

She began slowly bobbing her head, her hand moving up along his shaft to match her rhythm. She took it slowly, as he had commanded. She didn't go too deep, instead focusing on his tip. Her tongue circled and swirled around it. She licked up and down the slit. Her tongue ran in lines across his frenulum.

He began groaning slightly, his breath catching occasionally in his throat. Her subconscious knew that this meant she was doing a good job. Blowjobs were one of the few things her Master hadn't trained her to do; Monica had been no stranger to sucking dick before they met, and she'd never missed an opportunity to practice on him before becoming his maid.

She began to pick up the pace, her head bobbing further down his length, her tongue speeding up to cover more of him. It wasn't a conscious choice; it was simply what her instinct told her to do. She was still just as blank and unaware as before. While her subconscious used her memories to coax an excellent blowjob from her, her mind continued to simply repeat its infinite loop.

"Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless. Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless."

After some time, her subconscious registered that his breathing was getting more unsteady, and his cock had started to throb somewhat in her mouth. She picked up her pace, bobbing faster than before, one hand mirroring her movements as her other hand fondled his balls.

With a groan, he spoke.

"In your mouth, not your throat."

Understanding what he meant, she pulled back until just the tip was in her mouth. Her tongue ran fast, furious circles around it as her hand pumped rapidly. After a few more moments, she felt his dick begin to pulse, and she felt the first shot of cum spray into her mouth.

Her tongue stilled, resting flat against the underside of his head, as her hand slowed but kept stroking. Rope after rope of cum filled her mouth, until finally it stopped. Her taste buds took in the strong, salty flavor, and her subconscious once again registered a flash of pleasure. She'd always enjoyed the taste of cum before, and though her conscious mind was blissfully unaware of it all, her subconscious still remembered.

She pulled back, releasing his dick from her hands and mouth. Her mouth was closed, still holding his load. He hadn't told her what to do with it yet, so she did nothing.

He leaned back with a sigh.

"Show it to me."

She looked up at him, and opened her mouth. It was full of the sticky white substance; her tongue was barely visible underneath it all.

He gave her a satisfied smile.

"Good maid. Swallow."

She closed her mouth and dutifully obeyed, swallowing the thick load down.

He dismissed her after that, pulling his pants back up and returning to his laptop. She crawled out from under the table and stood, leaving the room to go about her daily tasks. She dusted, vacuumed, and swept. She washed and folded laundry. She organized his things. At some point, she heard him leave for work, but that was irrelevant to her tasks, and so she gave no reaction. She simply cleaned, and cleaned, and cleaned, her body guided along by nothing more than routine and conditioning, the ceaseless words still repeating in her mind.

"Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless."

It had taken some time to get to the point where she could fulfill her duties while being truly mindless. During her first few weeks as his maid, she'd still had some semblance of awareness. Her thoughts had been entirely focused on her immediate task, unable to think about anything else, but they had been there.

But over time, as the motions became more routine, and her conditioning became stronger, her mind was able to become less and less involved in the process. At this point, she spent all but the first few moments of her day functionally unconscious. Her morning mantras took effect after just a few repetitions, leaving her mind utterly blank and devoid of activity. The words repeating in her mind helped make sure that she never formed any thoughts of her own. Her actions were guided along by muscle memory and conditioning, without any of her own input. Even obedience was simply a reflex by now. She felt no compulsion to obey, no voice in her head telling her that she must. It was simply what happened, her body moving on its own at her Master's command. She simply floated along on autopilot, peaceful and mindless and obedient.

Late in the afternoon, when she finished her daily chores, she walked over to the front door of the house, and took her place standing in the center of the foyer. It was what she was to do anytime she finished working before he came home. She was to stand and wait for him, and so stand and wait she did.

She waited for some time, her empty mind blissfully unaware of its passage. Finally, the door clicked and swung open. Her Master walked inside.

"Welcome home, Master," she said, giving him the requisite curtsey. "I've finished my tasks for today. Is there anything you require?"

He took his hat off and hung it by the door.

"I'm having a few guests over tonight. I want you to prepare a large dinner. I'm thinking steak and vegetables. Prepare enough for six people."

"Right away, Master."

She immediately walked off to the kitchen, and set to work preparing the dinner. It took her some time, but eventually she finished. She set the plates and silverware, and placed the food on the table. Her Master walked in, and nodded approvingly at the meal.

"It looks excellent, maid."

"Thank you, Master."

"I want you to join us for dinner tonight."

"Of course, Master. Shall I simulate a personality for the duration?"

He thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. Let's go with..."

He paused for a moment, still thinking, before he snapped his fingers.

"Simulate 'professional businesswoman.'"

"Yes, Master."

With that, her body lost all tension, and her head dropped to her chest. Her eyes closed as she felt her mind rewiring. Her Master had conditioned her with a variety of personalities she could act out during social situations. This one in particular was that of a successful businesswoman.

She felt new truths being written into her mind. Memories of a business she'd never actually run, of a Master's degree that she didn't have. Names of fake employees appeared in her mind. A strong-willed, intelligent personality began to take root in her psyche.

After a few moments, her body came back to life. She lifted her head with a light shake, and opened her eyes.

"Robert? Sorry, I must have dozed off for a second."

He grinned as she shifted seamlessly into this new personality.

"Don't worry about it. You might want to go get changed, though. Everyone's almost here."

She looked down at herself. Why was she wearing a maid outfit? Despite her confusion, her mind didn't allow her to question it too much. She simply let out an exasperated sigh.

"Dammit, I hate running behind. Alright, I'll be right back!"

She rushed off towards her bedroom, quickly tossing off this maid outfit she somehow found herself in. She went into her closet and grabbed a dark blue sleeveless dress, and quickly pulled it on. She looked herself over in the mirror. At least I already did my makeup, she thought to herself, before running back downstairs as fast these damn heels would let her.

She got to the door just in time to see Robert open it and welcome their four guests inside.

"Hey, Monica," Robert said as she approached. "Just in time."

"Sorry, sorry," she said, panting slightly. "I was getting changed."

"That's okay," he said. "Here, let me introduce you to everyone. This is Bryan, Mike, Victor, and Carlos."

Robert gestured to each man as he introduced them. Monica smiled slightly, and nodded at the group.

"Hi. Nice too meet you all. Again, sorry about all this. I'm usually way better at keeping track of the time."

One of the men (Mike, was it? Or was he Bryan?) gave her an odd smile, and glanced in Robert's direction, but he didn't seem to notice. She didn't like the man's look, but she brushed it off. They were Robert's guests, she could suck it up and be polite for an hour.

The group walked into the kitchen and sat down to eat. Monica cut off a piece of her steak and took a bite. Her eyes lit up.

"Damn, Robert. This is tasty. Where'd you order it from?"

That same man glanced at Robert again, grinning. What was his deal? She was about to say something when Robert's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"That new steak place that opened up a few weeks ago. You know the one, right by the mall?"

She took another bite and nodded. She'd heard about that place, she thought. She'd have to go there one of these days. Maybe if she secured that new client.

The group continued talking as they ate. Robert's friends seemed especially interested in getting to know Monica. She hoped it was out of professional courtesy, and not just because she was the only woman at the table. She'd had more than enough of that bullshit in her life, thank you very much, and she'd worked too damn hard to be seen on that light.

Still, she did her best to answer their questions. She told them all about how she'd gotten a degree in Business, and how she'd started her own distribution company from scratch. It was still new, but it was growing fast, she told them, and she was very optimistic about the future.

She was in the middle of a story about Zach, her most regretful hire, when Carlos (she'd finally memorized their names) spoke up.

"Fuck, is anyone else hot in here, or is it just me?"

Bryan, the creepy guy who'd kept smiling at her earlier, spoke in agreement.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hot. What about you, Monica?"

She pursed her lips. She actually thought it was pretty comfortable. Although, to be fair, she was wearing a dress, while all the men were in suits.

"I'm actually okay, but I can go turn the air up if you guys-"

She was interrupted mid-sentence by Robert.

"You're feeling pretty hot, actually. Aren't you, Monica?"

Monica suddenly started to feel uncomfortable hot. It was the middle of summer, why wasn't the AC turned on.

"Yeah, it is pretty hot in here. Like I said, I'll go turn the AC-"

"It'd be a good idea to get out of that dress, wouldn't it?"

Robert interrupted her again, and as he spoke, his words seemed like a really good idea. Maybe it would just be more comfortable to take this dress off.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe you're right."

She stood up, and slid the dress down her body, stepping out of it. She sat back down, now wearing nothing but the black lace panties and matching strapless bra, the last remnants of her uniform.

As she sat down, she couldn't help but notice Robert's friends staring at her. What was their deal? It wasn't her fault it was so hot in here.

"So, Monica," one of the men, Victor this time, spoke. "I think you were telling us about that slutty phase you had in college?"

She stared in shock at Victor, who was grinning widely at her.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"That's exactly what you were doing."

Robert's voice echoed in her ears. Wow, how could she forget? And in the middle of her story, too.

"Wow, yeah, sorry. I must have zoned out."

She began to think about all the crazy stuff she's gotten up to in her college years. Her mind didn't need to draw from the fake personality for this; the real Monica had gotten up to plenty on her own. After a minute, she grinned.

"Alright, you guys promise this stays between us?"

All five men put their hands over their hearts.

"Scouts honor," Mike said.

"Alright, well, my sophomore year of college-"

"Take off your bra," Robert said bluntly.

Monica's hands immediately reached around her, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounced lightly as they came free, giving everyone a clear view of her ample chest. She kept speaking all the while.

"So in one of my classes, I had a really hot TA. And him and I got started talking, and we decided to hook up. So we snuck into the classroom, and I ended up sucking his dick."

"Pleasure yourself," Robert commanded.

Her hand slipped under her panties and began to play with her clit as she spoke.

"So I have his dick down my -ahhh- down my throat, my nose is pressed up -mmmmh- against him. And then the professor walks in."

The men stared intently at her as she continued her story, though they were only halfway listening. Mostly they were just enjoying the show.

"Eventually -oh my god- we convinced him to join in. So I end up -hnnnnn- bent over the professors desk, getting spitroasted by the two of them."

She was starting to get close. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was getting heavier. More and more her words were punctuated with moans. She was close, Robert knew. Which meant now was the time.

"It felt so good, and they ended up-"

"Deactivate personality," Robert said, firmly.

Instantly, Monica's mind ground to a halt. Her hands froze, still shoved down her panties. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open slightly. Her words stopped mid-sentence, as the thoughts she was giving voice to disappeared into nothingness, replaced by that familiar chorus echoing in her mind.

"Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless."

Monica sat up straight in her chair, her hands leaving her panties and folding gently on her lap. Her eyes glazed over, and her lips formed a soft, dazed smile.

"I was wondering how long you'd keep her like that," Bryan said with a chuckle. Monica didn't hear it though. He wasn't Master, and Master's orders were all that mattered. She wasn't aware of anything else.

"Greetings, Master," she said cheerfully. "Personality has been suspended. I notice I am not in proper maid attire. Shall I go and get dressed?"

"Yes, go and do that," Robert replied, as he shared a smile with his friends. Unbeknownst to the personality Monica had been simulating, all of Robert's friends knew the truth about her. This wasn't the first, or even the tenth, time he'd done this. Him and his friends got a kick out of seeing her meet them for the first time all over again, in some different personality, only for her true self to be brought back out again.

When she returned to the kitchen, fully dressed in her maid outfit, she found the room was empty. Her mind immediately registered the dirty dishes, and so she set about washing them and cleaning up the table. She could hear the men talking and laughing in the living room, so when she was done, she walked into the room, her eyes locking on to her Master.

"Hey, look who's back," roared Carlos, but his words passed harmlessly through her. He wasn't her Master.

"I've returned, Master. I cleaned the kitchen from dinner. Do you require anything else of me?"

"Come on, let's have some fun with her," Mike chimed in.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," Robert responded. "Just don't get any funny ideas, got it? She's still my girlfriend. I'll bite your hands off if you touch her."

Mike raised his hands up in mock defense. If Monica had any conscious awareness of what was happening, she'd be a little touched by Robert's words. As objectifying as the whole situation was, it was nothing she hadn't consented to when they first made their arrangement. She had no problem being shown off, but her body was for Robert only.

"Monica," Robert said, turning towards her. "Give us a curtsey."

"Right away, Master," she said, as her body began moving. She bent her legs at the knees, her hands reaching down to grasp her skirt and stretch it out slightly. Right as the reached the apex of the motion, Robert spoke again.

"Freeze in that position, Monica."

Instantly, her body locked in place, becoming as stiff and rigid as a statue. She stood there, holding the curtsey, the rise and fall of her breath the only motion her body made.

Robert stood up and walked towards her. He hooked his hands under her shoulders and lifted her up off the ground. Still, she made no movement, not even a twitch, her arms and legs still frozen in place. He carried her over to the center of the room and set her down, giving everyone a clear view of her.

She continued to hold that pose, unmoving, as the men talked and socialized around her. They would laugh, they would get up to get drinks, sometimes they would even address her. But she never reacted, never moved or made a sound.

Every so often, Robert would have her adopt a different pose. At first, they were relatively tame. Blowing a kiss, one hand on her hip. Her hands clapped against her cheeks, her eyes and mouth wide as if surprised. Hands held behind her back, head turned upwards, like she was gazing at the sky.

Eventually, they turned more and more suggestive. Holding her skirt up, flashing her panties to the room. Bent over, skirt hiked up, exposing her ass. Eventually he simply commanded her to strip, and had her stand naked, on display before his friends.

After a couple of hours, things began to die down, and her Master's friends started to filter out, one by one. Eventually, it was just the two of them. Monica was still frozen in her final position, down on her knees, one hand pressed to her clit, the other cupping her breast. Her head was tilted upwards, her mouth open and tongue out.

Her Master walked over to her and unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out. As he began to stroke, he looked down at her.

"Remain frozen in place, but begin repeating your mantra aloud."

Her body didn't move, but her mouth began to. The words flowed out on a flat, distant monotone.

"Obey. Serve. Quiet. Pretty. Mindless."

Master continued to stroke himself as she sat there, her mind and body frozen as she repeated the words that had droned endlessly in her mind all day.

After a few more minutes, her Master groaned loudly as he orgasmed. His cock throbbed in his hand, spraying Monica's face and chest with cum. As it splashed against her, she gave no reaction at all. She didn't flinch. All that moved was her mouth, as she continued to repeat her mantra.

Flicking the last of his cum down onto her, her Master let out a breath and zipped up his pants. He looked down at her. He'd covered her good. A thick puddle of cum dripped down her forehead and onto her eyelid, and speckles of it dotted her cheeks. Two thick ropes lined down her nose to reach her chin, stretching across her open mouth as she spoke. Her neck and breasts were dotted with smaller droplets.

He finished admiring his handiwork, then left for his bedroom to change into his pajamas. Eventually he'd have her clean herself up and get ready for bed as well. For now, though, he left her like that, frozen in place, face dripping with his seed, mindlessly repeating the mantras that kept her locked in trance. She was just as her Master wanted her to be.

She was a good maid.