The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cassandra’s Ass-Kissing Fuck-Slave

Part 3

Cassandra leaned down and whispered to me, “Sleepy sleepy.”

I blinked and my mind felt slightly foggy, like I had not quite fully woken from a nap. I was still kneeling at Cassandra’s feet. I looked up at Cassandra and saw her smirking back at me.

“You belong at my feet, don’t you?” she whispered to my ear.

“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered back.

“Look at the boots, and whisper quietly one hundred times that you belong at my feet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And so I knelt there, staring at her pink boots, whispering “I belong at Cassandra’s feet” over and over. One hundred times I said it. I counted each time I said it, which meant I thought it each time I said it, which in turn meant I was not thinking about anything else.

When I grew quiet, Cassandra leaned down and whispered, “Again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” And once more I whispered “I belong at Cassandra’s feet” one hundred times.

When I was finished, Cassandra leaned down and whispered to me, “Now whisper what you truly want to be three hundred times.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And so, as I continued to kneel before Cassandra and her pink boots, I repeatedly whispered “I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave.” Three hundred times I thought it and whispered it. And not once did I think of anything else or try do anything but kneel there and whisper.

I have no idea how much time passed while I did all this whispering. The Coke dried on my face in my hair. I am sure I looked like an idiot.

When I finally stopped whispering, Cassandra leaned down and said, “Now whisper three hundred times that pink boots make you submissive and horny, and that you want to obey women and obey me most of all.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A part of me felt this was wrong, but I was obeying before I could give it another thought. “Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.” Even if I could have thought of the idea of trying to stop, I am not sure I could have stopped myself. Three hundred times I said it. “Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.” And I was horny. By the time I had whispered that for the three hundredth time, my cock was painfully hard.

I felt weak. I was staring at her boots, and I felt I could not look away. I needed to be there at the feet of Cassandra. I wanted to obey her. I wanted to stare at her boots. I wanted to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave. I could think of nothing else.

“Hands and knees, fuck-slave,” I heard her say, and I muttered an acknowledgement of the command as I put my hands on the floor. Cassandra leaned down and said, “Now whisper that you are my property and that you will obey me at all times. Whisper it until I tell you to stop.”

As Cassandra put her feet on my back and used me for a footstool, I began to softly repeat, “I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.” I lost all track of time then. How much time passed, I cannot guess. The whispered repetition was my only thought.

Suddenly there was a hard whack on my ass. I blinked and looked up.

“Hey, stupid,” Cassandra said to me, “Wake up. You can stop whispering now. I’m leaving so I guess you can go. Next time, be more polite to people.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said humbly.

Then she smirked mischievously. “Say again what you really want to be.”

“I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave.”

Cassandra chuckled and her friends laughed. “Stupid boy,” she said with some amusement.

I remained on my hands and knees while I watched her pink boots as she and her friends walked away. When they had left, I was finally able to get to my feet. I felt fully humiliated. I waited a few minutes to make sure I would not run into Cassandra outside, and then I silently left, drove home and went to bed.

As I lay in bed, I had a hard time thinking of anything except Cassandra, her breasts and her pink boots. I was unhappy. I had let her make a fool of me. Yet even when I finally was able to sleep, I dreamt about her breasts and her fingertips going around and around her nipples.

When I woke up the next day, I was angry. Not as much at Cassandra (though I was angry at her) as at myself for having let her manipulate me. That was never going to happen again. Or so I thought.

For one thing, I was unlikely to ever see her again. I had never met her before that party, and I thought the chances of running into her again were slim.

For another, I thought I had figured it all out. Sure, Cassandra had hypnotized me, but that stuff never lasts. And now I knew the trick of it, so I could keep it from happening again. I had always been a confident sort of fellow, and I knew my own mind and what I wanted. I was strong enough to resist. Or so I thought.

And over the course of a week, I became more convinced I could resist not just hypnotism, but even Cassandra. I knew I could do it. I knew it. No matter what she might try, I thought, I was now mentally prepared. She would never make a fool of me again.

The very next weekend, I was getting ready to go out and meet some friends for beers and a little ass chasing. I think it was around 8:00 in the evening, and I was getting dressed. Cassandra was on my mind, because I knew the guys would make fun of me for what had happened at the party. I would, I had decided, laugh it off and just have a good night.

Anyway, I was getting dressed when the doorbell rang. I was in my pants and silk shirt, and admiring myself in the mirror. One of my pals, I thought as I walked to the door, must have stopped by to get a ride to the bar. So I didn’t even bother to look through the door’s peephole to see who it was. I opened the door, and there was Cassandra.

She was in a super tight lycra shirt and some tight black jeans and her pink boots. You remember, the dark pink boots with the tall, black heels. My cock got stiff almost immediately. I was not going to let her manipulate me, but even so, she was still hot.

I was prepared for her. “Fuck off,” I said, and slammed the door in her face.

Or rather, I started pushing the door and had intent to slam it closed. But before I got very far with that, Cassandra snapped her fingers, pointed at the floor, and my knees bent immediately. Before I knew what was happening, I was kneeling on the floor.

“Good boy,” she said. She stepped over me and into the apartment. “Close the door and get over here.”

I closed the door before I remembered to stand up. I took a deep breath. I was not going let her do this. I turned to face her. “Listen to me,” I said sternly.

“Get over here,” she said. She snapped her fingers, pointed at the floor, and again my knees bent immediately. I was on my hands and knees, crawling toward my couch, where she had decided to sit down.

“Hey!” I shouted. I stopped myself and started to stand up. She snapped her fingers, pointed at the floor, and my knees bent immediately. Once again I was crawling towards her.

“No, goddamnit!” I finally managed to stand up. “I am not doing this.”

She snapped her fingers, pointed at the floor, and my knees bent immediately.

“Oh, but you are,” she said with a smirk as I crawled to her. And before I could protest again, she said, “Tell me what you really want to be.”

Before I could think to object, the words came out of my mouth. “I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave, ma’am.” I was kneeling at her feet, looking up at her. “Wait, no,” I weakly started to protest again.

“Remember the boots,” she said seductively. “Tell me what you remember about pink boots.”

“Pink boots make me submissive and horny,” I said, repeating word for word something she had made me say at the party. “I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.”

“Ooh, good boy. That was nice. Say that again.”

“Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.”

“Of course you do,” she said with a smirk.

I shook my head. She was smiling but I had not lost yet. Or so I thought. Get angry, I told myself. Get angry and get focused. “I have had enough!” I yelled. “This stops now!” I glared at her as I stood up. “Get the fuck out!”

Cassandra stood up. I smiled. I had won. I had proven I would not let her control me. I pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out, now,” I said smugly.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?” she said. She turned around, bent at the waist and wiggled her hot ass at me.

I leaned down and kissed her gorgeous ass. I planted a nice, long, romantic kiss right on the seat of her tight jeans. I stopped when I heard her laugh. She turned to face me, and I saw a smug look of arrogance on her face. I took a breath and was about to again tell her to get out of my apartment. Before I could speak, she snapped her fingers, pointed at the floor, and my knees bent immediately.

“Tell me where you belong.”

“I belong at Cassandra’s feet.”

“And say what you want to be.”

“I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave.”

“And what was that about the pink boots?”

“Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.”

“And whose property are you?”

“I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.” I could not think straight. Every time she spoke, whatever thought I had vanished. I was obeying her automatically. And with every sentence she made me speak, I felt more submissive.

“Now put all of those sentences together.”

“I belong at Cassandra’s feet. I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave. Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all. I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.”

“Good boy. Now keep staring at my boots and say it again.”

“I belong at Cassandra’s feet,” I said as I looked at those dark pink boots. “I want to be Cassandra’s ass-kissing fuck-slave. Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all. I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.”

“Now say just that last phrase.”

“I will obey Cassandra at all times.”

“Keep repeating it until I tell you to stop.”

As I repeated it, that sentence was the only thought I seemed able to hold in my head. All my my planning and certainty that she could not manipulate me again had simply vanished.

“Stop. Now, boy, tell me about the boots again.”

“Pink boots make me submissive and horny. I want to obey women, and I want I obey Cassandra most of all.”

“Of course you do.” She grinned at me. It was smug grin of victory, and I suddenly remembered that this was not supposed to be happening.

“Wait,” I said in confusion, “what’s happening here? This isn’t who I am.”

“Oh, but it is. And every time you speak those sentences, they become more true.”

“But I’m not-”

“Whose property are you?”

“I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.”

Cassandra laughed. “Again.”

“I am Cassandra’s property, and I will obey Cassandra at all times.” Five more times Cassandra made me say that sentence. I could not stop myself. Each time she prompted me, I said it. And each time I said it, it felt true.

“You seem to be tame enough now,” said Cassandra. “Have you got any beer?”