Danielle liked to think she was a rational person, really. Maybe even a rationalist. But rationality starts to fade after four days of not getting any sleep for longer than an hour. An appointment with a medical professional wasn’t going be available for another month, so Danielle had turned to ‘self-help’. Calming teas, minor hypnosis on the MCU discord (Sure, she was normally a dom, but she was desperate!), and some sort of charm that looked like a really weird ‘N’ from her wiccan friend Kaja. (Danielle didn’t believe in that, of course, but it made Kaja feel better, especially when Danielle told Kaja about the nightmare where Danielle tried to run but just lead the mugger to Kaja, and ... and she couldn’t finish before Kaja just held her tightly.) The last step was staying up alt-tabbing between the EMCSA and various MCU quests until she slumped backwards in her swivel chair, the screen bathing her in a list of MCU teacher concepts someone had posted.

MCU—“Mind Control University”, no relation to the “Marvel Cinematic Universe”—had been a fun little obsession in the weeks before the mugging. It had started with a porn-with-plot online quest about Daphne Miller, a shy but cunning nerdette invited to an interdimensional school that taught a highly diverse student body how to use hypnosis, technology, chemistry, psionics, magic and chi in order to brainwash people (especially each other). From there, she’d gone on and discovered that fans of the original MCU had launched their own quests and stories set in the same school. Most nights, that made for great sexy entertainment, now she was mostly using it as a distraction.

Danielle’s last thoughts before falling asleep were an (admittedly sleepiness-induced) attempt of her imagination to merge her own character with a hypothetical “Older, alternate-universe Daphne as an MCU teacher” concept she’d seen floating around on the list.

The dream sort of resolved into what Danielle could imagine her office to be. A small tesseract space (well, this is MCU) in which hundreds of tools and devices could be quickly formed out of the walls from a shapeshifting picotechnology factory. There were other things she imagined there, dreams being so wonderfully mutable—but one thing she didn’t need to imagine, something that the dream had already provided for her, was a kneeling Denebian on the floor, the purple-skinned alien convulsing in orgasm as her own subverted picotech implant continued to shock the dominance out of her. The extremely silly girl seemed to think that just because she had a roughly equal tech base and powerful magical potential trained by whoever the magic teacher for this class was, she could take on the technology teacher. At the moment, she was thinking ‘Mistress’ over and over again, of course.

Danielle was vaguely aware that this was a dream and that she’d been having nightmares. She certainly didn’t want to leave this dream any time soon.

And so, semi-lucidly, “Danielle Miller” began her hypnotic rampage through the dream’s cast of lovely ladies.

Meanwhile, in a different but not unrelated plane of existence, someone was on the job. Different cultures and contexts had given her many different names; Lady Somnia, Dreamweaver, the What Could Be Queen, and more. Regardless, her portfolio was to watch over the dreams of mortals. Oh, the actual chances of a horror from beyond reality being summoned via someone’s dreams were almost nil... almost... but there still needed to be a guard. After all, even without threats to cosmic integrity, mortals needed their dreams to maintain their sanity; was it not a kindness, then, to watch over their dreams and ensure things went well? Sane mortals made for a sane cosmos.

That night, she had a destination in mind. Danielle was on the short list of individuals who could use protection of some sort. Somnia also heard a heartfelt cry from someone she had protected earlier, and while she did her best to defend everyone she could, she thought that she could spare a bit more of her power for this. With a spin of her (entirely ceremonial, at this point) glaive, she cut through the veils between dreams, sending a slightly stronger avatar than normal carrying the prime backups of her consciousness to just outside “Danielle Miller’s” office.

Hmm, she wound up in a school of some sort? A school with a variety of students, she noted. Well, she set out to find the dreamer, her mind searching out for the person at the center of this construct, to reassure them that they hadn’t missed their test or anything like that…

As she searched through the dream, she came across an odd sight—a large-breasted kitsune smiling widely and chanting “I belong to Mistress... I belong to Mistress...” over and over while applying over her mouth a respiration mask connected to a tank labelled “slave gas”.

That was—unexpected. To say the least. Was this part of Danielle’s nightmare? (The fact that hypnodommes existed was known to Lady Somnia, of course. But there also existed people who have nightmares about being enslaved, and she was fairly certain by that point she was in one of those.) Her glaive lanced out to unweave the canister of slave-gas, also banishing the contents (she wasn’t that inexperienced at this!), and speaking to the fox in the language of dreams. “Is this being forced upon you?” she asked the mental construct, using it as an interface to access the dreamer’s mind.

“Oh yes,” the kitsune spoke in hazy joy. “Fluffy is a good little pet now that she’s been tamed by Mistress’s wonderful gas! No more naughty foxy trickery—I’m a good girl now! No choosing, just obeying!” The zeal she was showing is very much the sign of brainwashing, as if that had not been obvious already. But was the dreamer the brainwasher or the brainwashee? “Can you take me to Mistress?” offered Somnia cautiously. There wasn’t a reason for her to be scared, of course, she was a goddess and the creations of dreams did nearly nothing to her. But there certainly was a reason to be gentle. There was never any reason to be any more forceful than she needed to be.

The kitsune, before answering, looked at the goddess, observing her from top to bottom. She giggled. “Of course! You’re really pretty. Mistress will like you!” With that, she got on all four and began making her way through the corridors, her fluffy tails swinging from side to side behind her.

The clearly-hypnotic tails, obviously, were not enough to lower Somnia’s guard. She simply held her glaive in front of her and ‘turned off’ any visual hypnotic stimuli that could affect her, returning the hypnotic aspects of the fluffiness to the insubstantial nature of dreams. She followed fearlessly, occasionally gawping at the leftover evidence of the hypnotic rampage. Danielle was a creative one, that’s for sure.

A pair of twins, each one tied up in a rope connected to the ceiling and swinging from side to side, each one always going in the opposite direction from the other, serving as hypnotic pendants to enslave each other. A giantess, kneeling before a spiral and masturbating while calling for her Mistress. A vampiress with a brainwashing helmet on her head.

All eventually leading to an office where a woman wearing a suit and glasses was holding the cheek of a redheaded, crowned woman. “And what do the picobots in your brain tell you, Lady Emerald?”

“That I love and obey you, Mistress,” the crowned woman sighed happily.

That wasn’t the most awkward scene that Somnia had ever walked in on, but it was close. After briefly rendering the office door transparent exclusively to her and taking a look inside, Somnia politely knocked on the door of the office. “Excuse me,” she called through it. “Is one of you the dreamer?” This actually worked rather well. 99.999% of the time, dream constructs didn’t have enough mental capacity issued to them to knowingly lie to an unexpected question. They could be pre-programmed with acting deceitful about one thing or another, but they were basically stimulus-direct-to-response outside the confines of their programming.

“Fluffy” didn’t really react. Lady Emerald barely acknowledged that anything had happened. The other woman, however, lookd at the door in surprise and befuddlement. “Huh... This got meta.” With that, she snapped her fingers, and the door opened. “Come in, come into my parlor.”

The kitsune rushed in, happily licking the woman’s feet. “Mistress!” she called out, her tails wagging energetically.

“I’m a goddess of dreams,” Lady Somnia said, appearing as a human silhouette holding a glaive. Through the silhouette could be seen stars, planets, and nebulae, like the view one might get from the universe’s most interesting, most powerful telescope. “You get used to the meta in the first couple of centuries or you find a new portfolio.” She was entirely open with talking to dreamers. It was so rare for people to remember specifics about their dreams, after all. (At least, more than a few minutes after they woke up, without her explicit command.) “So.” She looked at the submissive Lady Emerald. “I assume that this is, not, in fact, a nightmare for you? Would I be mistaken in that?“

The dreamer laughed. “Nightmare? HA! This is the first dream I’ve had all week that’s not a nightmare! And boy, I needed this. And so did you, didn’t you?” she said, caressing Lady Emerald’s cheek.

“Yes Mistress!” the brainwashed woman replied happily. “Thank you for making me a good slavegirl instead of an evil genocidal queen!” Lady Emerald had been infamous in the original MCU.

The dreamer pulled out a perfume bottle (she didn’t need to pull it out of somewhere specific; it was a dream, after all) and sprayed herself with its (rather delightful) fragrance. “I’ll take sexy dreams about hypnotic schools over flashbacks to an asshole mugger any day. Er. Night.”

“All right, then.” Somnia nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Shall I, um, leave you to your dream?” Normally she’d have simply left in embarrassment at this point.

... But the other hers were exploring the other dreams she’d mapped out for the night, and the perfume did smell... rather nice... Wait a second.

Casually, Somnia severed the connection between the perfume and any hypnotic effects it might have. Normally, that would have been the end of it.

However, the past few days had not been normal for the traumatized Danielle. Abnormal enough that she had asked a friend on the MCU discord to hypnotize her in an attempt at dealing with the panic attacks and nightmares. Said friend had implanted a suggestion—one that told Danielle to remain dominant and in control at all times the next time she slept. And as the hypnotic trigger fired in Danielle’s mind, the hypnotic effect of the perfume in her dream turned back on. The trigger, having been implanted outside of Danielle’s actual sleep, was something Somnia was blissfully unaware of.

Danielle had been having a blast (and a few small orgasms that would lead to needing to clean her bedsheets in the morning) bulldozing over the wills of various characters her mind had been conjuring—some from various MCUs, some from other franchises, and even a couple from real life. But this new character... not someone she recognized. A dream goddess. One, fittingly, “aware” that this was a dream.

Maybe her subconscious was more creative than she’d realized, coming up with something like this! But regardless, she wanted to savor this one. Which was why she started with the pheromone perfume. Smiling, she walked toward her new victim, taking her hand. “Well then! I’m Danielle. Or Daphne? No, I’m more like Danielle borrowing some of Daphne’s traits I guess? I don’t think I got your name, sweetie.”

“You can call me Somnia,” she said. There wasn’t anything odd about her leaving the ‘Lady’ off. After all, she was here to put Danielle’s worries at rest, not intimidate her with a display of power. “And you can be Daphne here, if you want.” There wasn’t anything odd about her smiling. Encouraging mortals was one of the best ways to keep them from having more nightmares in the future. “That’s part of the point of dreams, after all.” There wasn’t anything odd about telling her that. She liked getting the opportunity to talk to mortals, and there wasn’t any danger in it since mortals didn’t remember it anyway. “Oh! So, you don’t mind if I stay?” There wasn’t anything odd about how she wanted to stay here. After all, Danielle-borrowing-Daphne was very attractive…

“Of course not! In fact, you are more than welcome to stay,” Danielle/Daphne said, her other hand now caressing Somnia’s cheek. “After all, this is all about bewitching cool, pretty girls. And you’re one of the coolest and prettiest here.”

“Oh, that.” Somnia smiled... and blushed a little, the galaxies visible around her cheeks slightly red-shifting—Danielle/Daphne called her pretty! “I’m afraid I would prefer not to be bewitched, so I have made your hypnotic concoctions ineffective on me.” Best to cover all the bases, hmm? No matter how attractive this dreamer was, she shouldn’t lower her guard. Surreptitiously she turned off the ability of the picomachines to affect her, and then plainly turned off the picomachines, the hypnotic spirals, anything else she could see coming up, and paid them no further mind as they all switched back on a second later. She was safe, after all.

Not that Danielle had any conscious awareness of this. “Huh. You can resist the pheromones? You’re the first one in this dream who can actually resist things.” Not that the pheromone perfume stopped working. Or smelling really, really nice. “Maybe you’re some kind of... level boss? Is that how this dream goes? You get better lines and more creative looks than the rest of the cast, so I need to put in more effort to conquer you? Wouldn’t be the first time my dreams took a cue from videogames...” And oooh, she was standing so close to Somnia, smelling so nice…

“Well, none of the constructs want to resist you,” she clarified. “Your mind created them to submit to you.” Which doesn’t sound as bad as it did when she first arrived at this school, but she’d seen plenty of strange dreams and strange dreamers. “Being from outside your mind, I have my own desires.” For now, anyway.

Danielle chuckled at that, still convinced it was nothing but a dream. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to make you want it then. Slave Emerald, hold her.”

“Yes Mistress!” The enslaved witch-queen sprang into action. Then... the world around them fell, like a discarded stage prop; instead, they were in some kind of high-tech dungeon, with metal restraints holding Somnia in place. Apparently, the enslaved queen was as a potent sorceress in this dream as in the original story.

Oh dear. It occurred to Somnia that she had neglected to make sure that none of Danielle’s slaves could affect the world. Well, she could just mentally control her glaive to cut through those metal restraints, and... erf. It just went ‘tink’. (The dream was taking cues from videogames after all.) Very well, she could mentally control her glaive to cut through the parts of the dream that made those metal restraints able to resist her glaive. She could cut that away. She did, and her glaive went ‘tink’ again. Right, right. That was foolish of her. Cut through Emerald’s ability to cast spells so she couldn’t restore the toughness of the restraints. Cut through the parts of the dream that make the restraints indestructible. Then cut through the restraints—‘tink’. The picotechnology swarm inside her body had restored Emerald’s spellcasting ability in time, and Somnia’s faceless expression was starting to become a bit worried.

Danielle looked down at the brainwashed kitsune, who was still there kissing her feet. “Fluffy tails.”

The kitsune looked up. “Fluffy tails?”

“Fluffy tails.”

“Fluffy tails!” And just like that, kitsune tails were waving around Somnia’s face, caressing it softly and rather fluffilly while Danielle/Daphne, in the background, pulled out some kind of gas tank.

This time there was a brief yelp from Somnia. Good Her those things were extremely fluffy! It was not unlike being attacked by a particularly affectionate dog—and like someone being attacked by a particularly affectionate dog, she didn’t particularly want to harm the dog, which was just trying to be cute and friendly and very thoroughly domesticated. It took her a flailing moment to make the foxy tails transparent, and by then Danielle/Daphne had the gas tank ready.

“Sweet dreams!” said Danielle as she applied the gas mask to Somnia’s mouth and nose; it automatically attached itself, starting to flood her airways with a sweet-smelling gas. “...OK, bad pun,” Danielle/Daphne admitted. “I mean, it won’t even put you to sleep. It’ll just make you more and more hypnofetishy and subby with every breath.”

“No it won’t,” said Somnia’s voice, muffled by the mask. She took another deep breath. “No it won’t,” she said, a bit clearer this time. “I turned it off. I’m as submissive as I’ve always been.” Of course, she wasn’t trying to cut through her restraints anymore…

“Oh really?” Danielle/Daphne grinned. “I don’t know your backstory, but before today, did the idea of being brainwashed ever soundsexy? And more importantly, does it now?” Her grin intensified. “Breath deep, dear.“

Somnia took a deep breath and the stars in her body seemed lost in thought briefly. “Well, I’m not sure,” she said. “I know that some people find it sexy, I had to find out if you were one of those people so I asked them. But do I find it sexy? I don’t remember ever thinking about that.” She kept talking, breathing more and more. “As for now, I mean, it seems pretty sexy. I mean, Slave Emerald and Fluffy are obviously having a lot of fun. But since I deactivated your brainwashing abilities, I can’t be brainwashed, so I must have thought this was always exactly this sexy.” The logic was airtight... to her.

“Oh sweetie. Are we doing the denial thing?” Danielle/Daphne rolled her eyes. “I mean, keep taking deep breaths, but...” She paused, and grinned. “Yes. Nice, deep breaths... Good girl...” She then reached for the bottle, and turned a dial that had not been there before but was there now. One that was pointing away from “hypnosubmission gas”, and toward “suggestibility gas”. “OK, keep breathing. You like the gas and the idea that I control you with it, don’t you?”

“Well, a little bit,” Somnia admitted, the redshift blushing brightly. “But... I can’t! I can’t take advantage of a mortal’s dreams to do the things I might want to do, like kneel before her and lick her pussy until she came. I have to be responsible with my portfolio and not take advantage of any of the sexily dominant girls I find in there!” It made sense to her, at least, after eons of being a responsible goddess who was mindful of the power imbalance between herself and mortals and thus avoided using them to her advantage.

“Oh, but that’s not a concern, my hypersuggestible little goddess,” Danielle/Daphne grinned. “You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m taking advantage of you. My mind-control gasses are working perfectly on you. And, whether or not you want to resist... well. My gases make it so being brainwashed by me is suddenly the sexiest thing you can imagine.”

“Oh, it is... But... but... I can’t beg you to completely rewrite my mind! I can’t feel the joy of becoming totally submissive to you! It wouldn’t be fair to you to make you do the sexiest thing in the world to me! I’m more powerful than you, after all. I might force you into making me beg and whimper on my knees to be completely brainwashed! And that’d be wrong!”

“You don’t get it,” Danielle/Daphne caressed her cheek. "It’s not about what you want. It’s about me, making you want what I want you to want.” She paused. “That sentence got away from me. My point is, you’re helpless, you’re at my mercy, you’re in my power, and you can’t resist as I brainwash you.”

“N-no, Mistress, please run!” begged Somnia. “Please, I can’t resist anymore! I can’t resist the urge to be completely enslaved by you! I can’t resist the urge to submit totally and do whatever you want! I’m losing control of myself and I only want to give control completely to you! I want to be totally obedient and brainwashed! Please, Mistress, start altering my mind!”

“Good girl,” said Danielle/Daphne, obviously flushed. “Emerald, release her.”

The sorceress complied, and with a snap of her fingers, the restraints, the mask... they were gone.

Danielle/Daphne held a rag in one hand. In the other hand, a bottle labeled “Slave-B-Mine”. She poured the liquid content on the rag, then held the rag five inches away from Somnia’s face. “Just a few breaths of this,” she chuckled, “will haremize you completely. You will worship me. You will love me. You will serve me. You will be my slave and love it. You will love being a good slave in my harem. Those things will become more important than anything else to you—more than everything else put together. All you need to do... is press your nose against it and breath.“

Somnia shuddered. She looked at Danielle/Daphne, her eyes pleading. Didn’t she understand? There was too much of a power differential between them! She couldn’t completely become Danielle’s slave, it would be unethical for Somnia to do anything as sexy as become completely unable to disobey Danielle’s commands! Somnia couldn’t be completely dominated by Danielle—what if Danielle didn’t want to dominate her? What if Danielle was just offering her this gift of becoming completely powerless to resist her will because Danielle was scared of Somnia’s power? But not even a goddess’ will ccould hold out forever against the creations of an MCU teacher. Somnia leaned forward, slowly, and gave the rag a small sniff, so tempted by the thought of being unable to think anything Danielle didn’t want her to.

It smelled heavenly. It smelled of perfect blissful submission. It smelled of orgasmic helplessness under her Mistress’s spell. It smelled of eagerly obeyed orders and worshipful love and unconditional devotion. It smelled like being a brainwashed harem slave.

One sniff was enough to shatter what remained of her ethical resistance. She buried her face in it, breathing deep, completely unable to stop herself from becoming Danielle’s slave. Her last thought as she did was that she hoped Danielle would forgive her one day for becoming her Mistress…

Two breaths. Three breaths.

Complete haremization.

Mistress pulled the rag away. “Now, pet... who am I?”

“Mistress,” she said with a smile. “And Danielle. Or Daphne, if you want to be. I can make Mistress as Daphne or as Danielle as she wants to be!” The goddess gazed worshipfully at the mortal. “I might need a few minutes to call back and subdue the rest of myself, but with Mistress’ help—and permission—I’m sure I could do it!”

“Oooh, there’s more of you?” Danielle was looking increasingly flushed and excited. “Sure! I’ve got slave gas,” she pulled out a new spray, “an archmage,” Lady Emerald giggled, “a psionic dragoness,” Xerpentis appeared in her gigantic draconic form, nuzzling Mistress affectionately, “and a cloud of brain-rewriting picomachines floating all around us. Let’s do this thing!”

What followed, from Danielle’s perspective, was a very sexy if somewhat repetitive show. One by one, Somnia came up with excuses to summon back the other fragments of her power that she had sent out into the world, only to promptly waylay and ambush them with the assistance of her Mistress’ powerful dream-slaves, her other fragments’ own control over dreams countered and nullified by the Slave-Somnia’s rapid intervention. Once each enslavement was complete, Slave-Somnia absorbed the brainwashed fragment back into herself, becoming more whole, and more powerful, but still as completely and totally obedient as she had become thanks to a few deep breaths of Slave-B-Mine.

“I... guess that’s all of them,” Mistress panted, visibly aroused. “I am now your Mistress. Which makes you...?”

“Part of your harem, Mistress!” she said. “Your loyal servant-goddess for as long as you desire. Do you desire more for me to pleasure you or empower you, Mistress? Or should I try both at once?”

The answer would have to wait, because what the enslaved goddess had said proved to push Mistress beyond the edge and into orgasm. A big enough orgasm to wake her up.

Danielle opened her eyes, gasping. “Oh. Wow. That was one hella dream.” She got up. “I was a teacher at MCU. Sort of a fusion between myself and that ‘Daphne as a teacher’ concept. It all started when...“

In her previous experience, verbalizing her dreams as soon as she woke up helped her remember them, rather than let the memory grow fuzzy over the following hour. And she definitely wanted to remember this one. In fact… perhaps it would be best to write it down.

“...and then, once we were done enslaving every fragment of the dream-goddess to merge them into herself, she declared herself my slave and asked me if I wanted her to pleasure and/or empower me,” she finished typing on the laptop. “Wow. I’m gonna open a discussion topic for this one. It’s good enough to share.“

On that point, she encountered no disagreement. True, the replies that came over the course of the day were somewhat memetastic, tempered by jealousy. (And people coming up with various plans to enslave Lady Somnia if she showed up at MCU, of course.) But the reaction was largely positive. It was, after all, a very nice dream.

Eventually, though, it was time to go to bed. “Here’s hoping my dreams are more sexy hypnosis and less asshole mugger tonight,” she muttered to herself as she laid in bed. It did not take long for sleep to come.

There was the alleyway again, as she began to dream, and the shadowy figure, and Danielle’s mind resigned itself to another sweaty, restless night. (As opposed to the sweaty, restful night she had last time.)

Then a glaive chopped through the alleyway, both sides falling away like it a matte backdrop of a play, returning her to ‘Daphne’s’ office. “Welcome back, Mistress!” said the cheerful Somnia. “I’m sorry it took me almost a second to find you!”

"Huh. First time my wet dreams had continuity,” Mistress commented. She then chuckled and began humming the “continuity song”.

“Did you do any thinking about how much you’d like to be Danielle and how much you’d like to be Daphne, Mistress?”

Mistress blinked. “Well, it’s not like I want to be Daphne, I just like the perks, you know? She’s really smart, she’s powerful, she’s a tech genius, she gets to gather a harem of brainwashed babes... It’s a big power-slash-sex fantasy, you know?“

“Right! Um. I’ll do my best, Mistress. Hold still for a moment!” Slave Somnia held her glaive up, then spinned it, tapping Danielle on the forehead. There was a bright light behind her eyes as her memory began to clear, and all of a sudden, Danielle found herself gifted with perfect recall of a vast store of knowledge—knowledge collected from the more grounded dreams of people who wrote hundreds of textbooks on microelectronics, cognitive science, and chemistry.

It wasn’t enough to give her the science-fictional capabilities of an MCU teacher. Nowhere close. But as the light stopped shining, Danielle, high school student, was quite possibly the smartest mortal in the world. One who could imagine a nine-molecule-long transistor on her desk and know everything about how it was made, from the mining of the original elements to the eventual installation on a chip.

“Huh... whoa...” By this point, Danielle was more lucid than she’d ever been in a dream. “This... what...” She paused to consider. “Is... is this a dream?“

“Well, of course, Mistress. I’m a dream goddess. I can’t leave dreams. But I can travel to other people’s dreams, and look inside their minds and find out what they know, and then have you learn that!“

“I... this can’t be real.” Much as a part of her was starting to wonder.

“Well, Mistress, you just don’t believe it’s real. I could wake you up, then you could see if you still know all those things—if you don’t, I did something wrong, I’m a bad slave, I’m sorry Mistress!—then go back to sleep.”

“Uh, OK, definitely going to check that. Wait. It’s still all my mind, it could be... I dunno, I could come up with some kind of justification for it that didn’t involve supernatural dream-goddesses. I, I need some kind of proof in the waking world from someone other than me. Like... Like Melanie!” she mentioned the attractive single mother next door that had frequently appeared in her fantasies since puberty. “Like... if this is all real, and you’re an actual dream goddess, you have power in her dreams, right? So, just... prove it to me,” she said, perhaps not quite realizing how vague the command was, seconds before she willed herself awake.

She sat up in her bed.

“...OK, no sleep right now,” she muttered. “I’m going to feel so, so silly,” she added as she turned on her computer, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake her parents, and got to work.

Time passed. She had read physics and math article on Wikipedia that described doctorate-level concepts, and known them before even reading. She’d done college-grade exercises. She’d written down experimental ideas for micro-circuitry, and had some more ideas on how to combine them. “...Shit, was that real?“

Not much later, her phone rang. At around 1 AM. Who could be calling at this hour? Lowering the volume, she answered. “Hello?” she whispered.

“Mistress?” comes a voice she recognized immediately. Melanie’s voice. “Is that you?”

Her jaw dropped. It took her several seconds to answer. “I... I’m Danielle.”

“Mistress!” Melanie’s voice spoke, incredibly happily. “It worked! Um, I’ve been commanded to ask, ‘does this work as proof’? But I don’t really remember who commanded me or why. I’m sorry, Mistress, I forgot that bit!”

“It’s... proof,” said Danielle, her free arm hanging limply by her side. “Um, you’re calling me ‘Mistress’. Why? Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Well, Mistress, I went to sleep. When I woke up, I felt really happy and really horny. And I knew that what made me so happy and so horny was that I was now your slave. And, um, I also knew your phone number.“

So many thoughts were rushing through Danielle’s head. “...Go back to sleep. We’ll meet soon.”

She went to bed herself. If she was correct... then it was sooner than Melanie realized, even. “...I wish I could fall asleep on command.”

It was hard to fall asleep with her heart racing like that, her mind coming up with all of these thoughts. Thankfully, she’d been exceptionally aroused by Melanie’s statement of complete, reasonless, submission. That, ah, helped matters, and it was only an hour or so before sleep finally took her once again. Office was still there. Slave Somnia, still there. Newly added was slave Melanie, kneeling on the ground, completely naked, reading a list labeled “MCU Class Yearbook”.

“Do you think Mistress would like me more if I looked like Lady Emerald or Tammy?” Melanie asked Somnia.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Melanie startled. “Mistress! Welcome back!”

Danille gaped. “Holy shit. It’s real. It’s all real. Melanie, you...” She paused, then gazed at Somnia. “Is this the real Melanie? Are we both in this dream? Will we remember it as clearly as waking life? Can you make it so we remember it as clearly? In that case, yes, do it! Er, tell me if there are any problems that would arise from my orders, I’m new to this.” Another pause. “...How did you... do... this...” she gestured at the kneeling MILF, “to Melanie?“

“I’ll try to make her remember it as clearly as I can, Mistress. My power isn’t unlimited and I’ve used a lot of it tonight, but I think I can manage!” Somnia bowed low. “If I make a mistake, I’m sorry, Mistress. I’m trying very hard to be a good slave!” She went on. “I took a canister of the slave gas you used on me, Mistress. After only a few breaths she was begging to become a slave forever! So, I let her. And I told her your phone number—you called your phone in your dream once, so I could look it up—and told her to ask you ‘does this work as proof’?”

“Mistress?” Melanie looked up at her, not wanting to interrupt either of the people who had enslaved her, but still having an important question. “You find all of these people sexy, right? Would you find me sexier if I was more like them?”

Danielle was still in “holy shit” mode, but... “Melanie, I’ve had, um, fantasies about you since I started puberty. I’m not saying there’s no room for improvement, but you’re plenty sexy to me. And you’re my brainwashed slave. Which is even sexier.” She paused. “Man, that’s gonna be... Um, wow. I can’t let mom and dad know I have a sex slave. Er, two sex slaves. And we can’t let Gail find out, either.” Gail was Melanie’s daughter, just three months younger than Danielle. “Er, actually, I guess you could just... make Gail cool with it?” she said in Somnia’s direction.

“Okay, Mistress!” said Somnia, reaching for another canister of slave gas.

... Danielle could stop her.

... Could.

Danielle considered stopping her. She really, really did.

“...I want to watch it happen,” she mumbled.

“Okay, Mistress!” said Somnia. “Do you want Melanie to watch too, or should she stay here?”

“I... er... Up to you, Melanie.” Because she wasn’t sure whether watching her daughter get haremized was something Melanie would love or hate to watch.

Melanie blinked a couple times. “Actually, can I take care of your Mom and Dad, Mistress?” She picked up two canisters of the gas, tucking one under her arm before turning it to ‘hypersuggestibility.’ “I’ll just tell them that nothing strange is going on with you, everything’s perfectly normal, and they’ve got absolutely no desire to tell anyone about your harem!”

“Ah... OK, but I don’t actually want to watch that. And, um, it can wait.“

“That’s why I’d do it while you’re busy with my daughter! If I’m going to enslave anyone you find sexy, I should do it while you can watch.” She nodded confidently.

“Fair enough. ...Though, er, we can’t enslave everyone I find sexy. The harem size wouldn’t be manageable.” It was still making Danielle’s head spin that she was going to have a brainwashed harem.

“Really, Mistress? I could show you how to copy yourself like I can. At least in dreams! If you wanted to copy yourself in reality, um...” ... Granted, Danielle was having a few cutting-edge ideas about cloning... but that was not the time for it.

“Leeeet’s not get carried away. For now... let’s get Gail enslaved.”

Gail. She and Danielle had been friends since childhood. Maybe not the closest of friends, but friends nonetheless. She’d inherited Melanie’s generous chest, but unlike her mother, Gail was a tall, muscular tomboy—her father’s genes at work, presumably. When Somnia cut into her dream, she was in their school auditorium, dribbling a basketball, and taking shot after shot. Her throws curved off in defiance of physics and ‘clanged’ against the rim. Hardly a nightmare, though she was certainly working through some frustration in her dream, eventually kicking over the rack of basketballs next to her.

With a gesture, Somnia changed Danielle’s outfit into a coach’s uniform, a shiny whistle (enchanted to be hypnotic) bobbing into her cleavage, and a clipboard in her hand reminding players to ‘K.N.O.W. the fundamentals of the game—kneel, nuzzle, obey, and worship’. Several cans of Gatorade—“Yefeyfiya Fire” flavor—were in an ice bucket next to her.

“H-Hey Gail,” Danielle called out. She then gazed at Melanie, still kneeling next to her.

Well, if she really wanted a power rush...

“Melanie, tell Gail what’s happening.”

“Mom?” Gail asked, looking with a bit of confusion at her kneeling mother.

“Hi, sweetie,” Melanie said with a smile. “Are you having fun?”

“Um... yeah,” Gail said, lying to her parent just like usual. “Mom, what are you doing? Why are you kneeling like that?”

“Oh! Because Mistress is here.”

Gail looked between them—a friend she rarely saw recently—and her mother, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Mistress turned me into her slave, you see. But don’t worry, she made me feel so good to be enslaved! I can’t imagine being happy if I was free again. Literally can’t.“

Gail now looked between them with extreme nervousness rather than confusion. Not taking her eyes off Danielle, she reached down to the ground for one of the discarded basketballs.

“And now, Mistress is going to make you her slave! You’ll love it! You’ll be so much happier when she puts your mind back together.”

“It’s true, Gail,” Danielle told the big tomboy, confident that Somnia wouldn’t let her get hurt. “You know those stories with people who could kill people in their dreams, and they die for real? I, I can brainwash people in their dreams, and they’re brainwashed for real. Really.”

“I see,” said Gail. Then she hurled the basketball at Danielle like a dodgeball with both hands and turned to run. Halfway to Danielle, the basketball curved off-course like it had on its way to the rim earlier, whistling past her—Somnia brought it to a stop in mid-air and playfully spinned it on her finger. She then mentally pointed her glaive at the running Gail, who paced faster and faster without actually getting any further away.

As hot as it was... Danielle didn’t want to start turning into a sadist. She pulled the whistle and blew it, “willing” its effect toward Gail. Gail froze, no longer running. Coach blew the whistle. It was time to stop practice.

Wow. Just, wow. Danielle moved in. She’d enslaved Somnia, thinking it was all a dream. She’d had Somnia enslave Melanie for her, not quite realizing it.

She was having Gail enslaved on purpose though. So... What was the sexiest way to go about it?

She took the “Gatorade” and poured it down the tomboy’s mouth. She then turned to Melanie. “Your... daughter... is so suggestible right now, anything you tell her will become her new truth. Make her my slave, just like you are.”

Melanie stood up and walked over. She would have reached down to hug her daughter, but the two were the same height, with Gail having more space to grow. “Sweetie?” Melanie asked Gail. “Can you hear me?”

A nod.

“Now be honest with your mother, okay?”

Hypnotic commands are supposed to have trouble if they try to make people do things they’d never do when unentranced. The tools available to MCU teachers completely disregarded such distinctions. Gail nodded again.

“What’s the most important thing in the world to you?”

“... I don’t know,” confessed Gail in a monotone voice. “Being good at things? Being strong? Being liked by the—the team?”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay if you don’t know,” Melaine reassured her. “You’ll know when Mistress is through with you, okay? But you like being good at things? Things like sports?”

“Yeah...”

“What if I told you there was a sport that you could play forever, and always win at?“

“What’s it called?”

“Slavery. Being a sexy, submissive slave for your new Mistress. All you have to do is obey her.”

Gail nodded slowly again.

“Your new position in this game is ‘harem member’. It’s your job to do whatever Mistress tells you, look sexy for her, and help her accomplish her goals. Every time you do one of those things, you’ll earn points. And the more points you score, the more aroused and submissive you’ll get.”

“Want to earn points...”

“It’ll be easy for you, sweetie. I promise.”

“Easy?” she said, thinking about all of her missed shots, but entranced enough that she couldn’t look away from Danielle and her mother.

“It’ll be so easy, dear. But you still have to practice. Whenever you work out, you’re practicing being strong for Mistress.”

“Strong for Mistress...”

“Whenever you work out, you’re practicing being sexy for Mistress.”

“Sexy for Mistress...”

“And you’ll work to add to and help the rest of your team. Her team. The harem. They’re all playing the same game too, and you have to help them at it, and you have to help her grow the team.”

“Help Mistress... with the team...”

“You’ll be a superstar, sweetie. Mistress’ sexy superstar.”

“Wanna be... a star...” said Gail.

“The team will love her. And they’ll love you. And you’ll get to play the game every moment of your life. Doesn’t that sound like the best thing in the world, sweetie?”

“Yes... Coach-Mistress...”

At some point, Danielle had started masturbating to the insanely sexy sight of her MILF neighbor turning her amazon daughter into a fellow harem slave.

“What’s the most important thing in the world?”

“Coach-Mistress Danielle...”

“Very good. What do you want to do more than anything in the world?”

“Play Slavery for Coach-Mistress Danielle...”

“When you wake up, what will you do?”

“Whatever Coach-Mistress Danielle asks me to...”

And “Coach-Mistress” Danielle came, and came hard.

“Sweetie,” said Melanie, kissing her daughter on the cheek, “I’m so proud of you.” Then Melanie released her daughter, hoping it met with her Mistress’ approval.

“That... was amazing, Mel,” said Danielle, panting. She gazed lustily at the tomboy, blowing the whistle again, confident that by dream logic it would wake her up.

Coach-Mistress blew the whistle! It’s time to start practice again! Gail continued running, now doing wind sprints up and down the course of the basketball court. When she finished one and turned back to Danielle, she whipped off her jersey top, showing Mistress her breasts tightly tucked away in her sports bra.

Danielle blinked. Apparently, with the brainwashing she’d had, Gail had some interesting ideas about being a slave.

Feature more than a bug.

“Um. Good girl. Kneel,” she said.

Gail instantly dropped to her knees, distributing her weight evenly and making sure to stretch herself out properly by bowing before Danielle.

“G... Gail,” Danielle spoke. “You realize what’s happening, right? I’ve brainwashed you and your mom. You’re both going to be my sex slaves. For, for life.” And “life” might be a surprisingly long time; some of the ideas she was having now involved tricks to prolong it.

“Of course, Coach-Mistress,” Gail said. “I’ll play Slavery for you until you cut, trade, or waive me.”

“And I doubt that will ever happen,” Danielle grinned, feeling bolder as she reached forward to grab the athlete’s massive boobs. Which were now effectively her property, along with the rest of her.

She then turned her attention back to Somnia. “OK. I have so many questions. What you are, exactly. What the whole dream goddess thing means. What’s out there in the whole cosmology. Whether I need to worry about any gods causing trouble over this, or long-term consequences, or anything. But for now...” She grinned. “For now, I want an orgy with my first three slaves.“