The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Femdom Hotel

By Mr. Scade

“I am not entirely sure about this anymore.” Said Ronda as the couple waited in the hotel’s lobby.

Manfred looked about, noting other couples walking hand in hand, and some people sitting outside in the sun reading books by the pool. This looked like a pretty normal place, all things considered.

“Well, we’re already booked in and we’re already here.” Manfred said, turning to his wife. “Come on, Rondi, we’ve had this discussion, like, a hundred times before and we both always found excuses why not to come here! But then we would convince each other that it is something we wanted.” He smiled. “No point in doing that at this point, innit?”

Ronda looked around, hoping, hoping. This place just looked too... normal. Not at all like the BDSM wonderland they were offered. Nothing like it. It just looked like any other hotel by the beach. Maybe that was what made her nervous, that it didn’t look the part. It felt like some of the inmates she worked with—they all looked normal, until they started to talk about their crimes.

In the end, she sighed and leaned closer to her husband. “You’re right, you are.”

The two hugged each other side by side and waited. After a while the receptionist came back, a woman dressed in black followed suit. In one moment, both Ronda and Manfred’s doubts were dispelled. Wherein the rest of the hotel imitated the most boring dream holiday down to the letter, this woman imitated the idea both had had of how a dominatrix should look. It wasn’t the black rubbery dress, with its plunging neckline and buckles that gave this illusion, no, it was more... an air about the woman. The set of her shoulders, the lazy yet controlled look of her eyes. Something about her made her seem taller than everyone, even if she wasn’t too tall. She smiled as if she knew jokes you would never understand. She just seemed... in control.

Ronda found herself containing a pout of a smile, and thinking of old fantasies unfulfilled. Manfred tried not to look at the woman’s body.

“This is Mistress Miranda Lawlor, and she will be your personal aide for the duration of your stay,” Chirped in the receptionist in a beautiful tone. “She will now show you to your room, and you can have the Chat over lunch.”

The receptionist turned to Mistress Miranda Lawlor as if waiting permission to be dismissed. Mistress Miranda Lawlor said something in a low voice and nodded. Ronda didn’t hear what the receptionist said when she bowed, but judging by the way her lips had moved, and what thoughts were coursing through her mind, she liked to think it had been “I obey Mistress.” Ronda had to control herself or else make an embarrassing sound.

Manfred, ever the cool-headed man even if he was nervous and scared leaned forward and gave his hand up for a handshake. “Nice meeting you, Mistress Lawlor.” He said in jovial politeness and hidden joy.

For a whole second Mistress Miranda Lawlor stared at Manfred’s hand as if it were a disease to be exterminated. For a whole second did Ronda think that the absolute humiliation and pleasure they had paid for would start here, in the middle of the lobby, with all these people watching. Watching as they were humiliated by a dominatrix. Ronda’s shoulder ticked and shivered.

Instead, Mistress Miranda Lawlor took Manfred’s hand into her own and smiled broadly. “It is great to finally meet you two. I know the whole staff has been waiting for this.”

Uh-oh! Ronda thought.

Manfred’s eyebrows shot up. “Have they?”

“Well, of course!” Mistress Miranda Lawlor’s hands shot out to her sides, showing the expanse of the lobby. The riding crop in her right hand shuddered like a horse’s tail. Or maybe it was a cat-o-nine-tails? Ronda didn’t know. “It is hard to miss just how many emails you sent us.”

“Many emails..?” Manfred said in a low inquisitive tone. His gaze reluctantly left Mistress Miranda Lawlor—god, but was he checking the woman out! Ronda didn’t know if to be angry or jealous or excited—and rested on his wife.

Ronda licked her lips. “Well, I really wanted to know about the place.”

“Oh!” Manfred exclaimed, fingertips coming to rest on his forehead. But before he could go on Mistress Miranda Lawlor broke into a jovial laugh that filled the room in interesting ways.

“Seems like someone broke a rule, didn’t she?”

Ronda felt her gut clench.

“Maybe she should be punished?” Mistress Miranda Lawlor’s gaze was penetrating, knowing, and enticing. It promised much, and it teased Ronda. Oh, how did it tease her. For a moment she regretted sending so many emails; she had said too much, and armed the staff of this hotel with all the ammunition they needed to use her. But at the same time, the thought enticed her.

Before she could say anything, Manfred came to her rescue.

“Maybe she will, maybe not.” He said in a possessive note. To the lady clad in black he said, “Would you be so kind to show us to our rooms, Mistress Lawlor? It’s been a long day of travelling.”

Mistress Miranda Lawlor could have slapped him for being insolent, or she could’ve said that they both had signed away their right to demand anything the moment they checked-in, or she could’ve taken them on a merry chase around the hotel, but instead, Mistress Miranda Lawlor nodded her assent.

“I understand. This hotel isn’t exactly in the middle of a city, is it, now?” She turned and walked right, her heels clacking against the tiles. “If you would follow me?”

Manfred and Ronda followed the click-clack of hills down a long hallway of concrete to the left and glass to the right. Through the windows the couple could see a view of the beach, and the cliffs far to the east. Sunlight was pouring in, leaving no job for light bulbs.

This was a wonderful choice, even if it is not what we thought it would be. Ronda thought as they turned left at a sharp corner and went up a flight of wooden, modern-decor stairs. As they reached the second floor, the couple’s fantasies became real.

Just coming out of one of the hotel’s rooms stood a woman dressed quite differently than Mistress Miranda Lawlor. She was wearing a cheongsam dress of pure, shiny white; it was short, and tight, and combined artistically with stockings and gloves decorated with woven branches and flowers. Her heels were tall and extreme. But Ronda didn’t stare at the woman per se, but at the man she held in a leash. He was wearing but a loincloth and a collar-and-chain combo attached to his neck.

Ronda had mixed feelings about this. It was a wonderful thing, to find some of the femdom she had heard so much about, but at the same time she didn’t know if she liked the idea of seeing other people in similar such situations walking about. It was... well, a bit like a mirror. It was alright to have these kinks in private, but to have them in the open? Something about it didn’t feel quite right.

Isn’t that why you decided to come here in the first place? A voice in her head asked and Ronda had to drop the subject.

The woman in white beamed as she noticed Mistress Miranda Lawlor and she nearly skipped to meet her. The two exchanged pleasantries and kisses.

“Are these your new pets?” Asked the woman in white. The man on the leash remained a step behind his mistress. Ronda couldn’t help but notice that he and Manfred were of the same height. Then she couldn’t stop the image of her husband dressed like that from appearing in her mind. She shivered and hoped no one noticed, again.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor smiled. “These cute couple are the new members of our family. And that one,” She pointed at Ronda, with eyes penetrating. “Is the famous Ronda”

Ronda couldn’t help but blush.

The woman in white giggled behind a hand. “Oh, you’re so lucky, Mistress Lawlor. These two are going to be a lot of fun.” Her jovial eyes flickered towards Ronda, catching the shorter girl’s attention. “Especially that one.”

Ronda froze for the duration of that look. The woman’s eye was just... knowing. It demanded attention. It demanded to be looked back. Ronda felt as if this giggly specimen of a girl had stripped her down to her soul. Luckily, it lasted but a second.

Manfred was staring at a very interesting crack in the wall as the two women looked them over.

“Oh, well, I’ll be seeing you around. My pet here,” She pulled the chain and the man took half a step forward. “needs to be reminded not to scream when I don’t want him to.”

And with that, the two were gone.

Silence befell the trio.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor turned to look at her charge with a grin. “Don’t mind Mistress Qi—you’ll get used to her.” A pause. “And you two should start to remember where you are and why, because if you keep on trying to ignore everything your time here will be a bit less consensual than you hope for.”

The strength in her voice brought the couple out of their joint reverie. They stared at her, quizzically, apologetically.

“Oh, don’t give me those looks, darlings, you two read about what we offered. You know what we are going to do, and what rights we have. After all...” She leaned closer, putting a finger under their chins and forcing them each to look into one of her eyes. “you signed away your free will just an hour ago.”

She turned on her heels and bid them to follow.

Manfred and Ronda, holding suitcases and doubt, shared a look that spoke measures.

“Get a move on!” Cried Mistress Miranda Lawlor and the couple jolted into motion.

Later, much later, after what felt like walking for an eternity, the couple was brought into a room that was all they had paid for. And they had paid quite a bit to be in there.

“This is your wonderful home for the next couple of days. Everything has been explained, so I see no need for me sticking around.” Mistress Miranda Lawlor said. “Just knock on the next door when you’re ready and I’ll come and meet you for lunch.” And with that, she was gone.

Manfred, ever the practical man, started to unpack. Ronda, however, couldn’t stay still.

“Did you see that!?” She exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

Manfred put a book by one of the nightstands. “See what, exactly?”

Ronda pouted. How couldn’t he know what she was saying! “That other woman, Ki, or whatever!”

“Mistress Qi?” Manfred said as he put his toiletries next to his book.

“Yes!”

“Well... I don’t know why you’re upset. This place looks to be exactly what we wanted.”

Ronda glared. “How can you be so calm?”

Manfred stopped unpacking. By the set of his shoulders Ronda could see she had stroked that old ego again. Well, it wasn’t her fault that this place was just so... much! She knew Manfred was as excited as her, but he just wouldn’t show it.

“You know how.” He said, curtly.

“Yes, I know.” Ronda found herself apologizing. “But... this place is...”

Manfred sighed and in a second he was kneeling before his wife. “Yes, it is a bit difficult to absorb all in all. Mistress Qi and her pet. Those bulky men dragging the horse person... it is all quite a lot to take in. But we both knew what we were getting into.” His shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I just imagined things closer to this.”

Ronda looked at him and knew it to be true.

“Let’s finish unpacking so we can go to lunch. I am starving.” Ronda added.

Manfred smiled at her. “In more ways than one, I bet.”

Ronda blushed. He knew her too well.

* * *

Ronda woke with a massive headache. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them. Light was painful. She tried to rub her eyes but something held her arms back. Panic gripped her and she opened her eyes hard. This time it was easier to exist.

Just where the hell was she?

Slowly awareness came to her. She was sitting down, on a hard chair. Wood, by the feel of it. The fact that she was naked didn’t really register. Not remembering how you ended up chained to a chair in a room that was the exact opposite of a dark room was more important than silly notions of propriety.

Slowly, she managed to get used to the amount of light. The headache, however, didn’t go away. And she really needed to pee. She licked the inside of her mouth, but didn’t feel that awful, hangover taste. So, no alcohol. Drugs?

“Okay, how did I end up here?” She asked in a hoarse whisper. She really needed to drink something.

And to pee. She contemplated just doing it, but she didn’t know when anyone would come to clean her, if they would at all.

Was this part of the hotel’s services?

She trekked her memory further back than when she and Manfred arrived at the hotel, and she knew she had never mentioned anything like this in her emails.

“Manfred...”

Ronda started to pull at her bonds, but both her arms were tightly chained to something behind her and the chair. She couldn’t even move them from where they rested. And the way her legs were chained, spread out as much as far as they could, she couldn’t move at all.

Perhaps it was just good timing, or they had watched her trashing, but suddenly, out of the perfectly white and glowing walls a door opened. Through it walked three women dressed from head to neck in black latex. Their heels clacked, their hips swayed, and somewhere at the very back of her head Ronda felt a thrill. She stopped moving and just watched as the trio neared. She noticed that two of them hung back, wheeling in what looked like a coffin.

When they were close enough, and the glare of the room fell off of them, Ronda recognized Mistress Miranda Lawlor’s face.

“Wha—” Ronda couldn’t finish as her jaw stung. Her headache was back and she felt as if her teeth were coming loose.

“You will not speak unless allowed to, slave.”

The word made something tingle in Ronda. But she didn’t really allow it to. What was going on? Did they agree on this? Was this part of a fantasy? Why couldn’t she remember anything!?

Mistress Miranda Lawlor waited until the other two girls pushed the coffin onto an upright position.

“I knew you two would make for a delicious time.” Mistress Miranda Lawlor said in what could’ve been glee.

Ronda didn’t want to feel that fist on her face again so she didn’t say anything. Two? Is Manfred in there? She looked at the coffin. Straight out of a western, it looked. Is this something we discussed over lunch?

Lunch. The word echoed in her head, but that is all it did. Echo in an empty space. The word itself seemed to tickle her memory and at the same time snuff it.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor nodded and the two faceless girls opened the coffin. Ronda recognized Manfred’s body, but that was as far as it went; she couldn’t see his face, or anything but his manhood. He was clad in black, several layers by the look of it, and several leather straps held his arms and legs tight. Fear and excitement gripped her like a remora. She feared for what had been done to her husband. For how long had Manfred been in this woman’s power? What had been done to him? Was he okay? Was he suffering from the same headache as she, or worse? But underneath all that worry and fear, Ronda couldn’t hide the fact that seeing Manfred tied up, helpless, and sporting a massive erection really got to her.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, he is okay. In fact...” She moved closer and ran a finger down Manfred’s black chest. His penis moved up and down in response. “I think he hasn’t been this well in years.”

Ronda suppressed a sound.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor made a motion with her hand and one of the girls quickly went on all fours right in front of Ronda. The dominatrix sat on the girl’s hips and stared at Ronda right in the eye.

“You can’t remember how you got here?”

Ronda shook her head.

“Good. That means everything is going according to plan. Oh, don’t give me that look. You were the one who agree to this!” She extended a shiny arm to point at Manfred’s body. “I made sure that you cannot remember anything”

“How?” Ronda couldn’t help the question leaving her mouth. She wanted to know. Thunder rang in her skull. The pain was worth it, hopefully.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor shook her hand. “You’ve got strong cheekbones.” She turned to look at Manfred. “His erection is waning. Slave, do your job.” The other girl nodded obedience and knelt in front of Manfred’s body. Ronda looked away.

“Well, I see nothing wrong in showing you what I did.” Mistress Miranda Lawlor said. “Not like you will be able to do much even if I show you. Or remember much.”

Ronda’s ears were still ringing and her left cheek was starting to swell and hurt.

“Look into my eyes.” Mistress Miranda Lawlor’s voice reverberated throughout her body. She felt her pussy tingle, felt her skin shiver, felt her thoughts go out the window. Ronda felt her mind emptying, her body letting go. She felt the warm trail of urine pooling underneath her, but she didn’t care. She had to just look into those eyes. And she did.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor smailed. “All thoughts gone...” She began.

“Only obedience left.” Ronda finished, her mouth slack, her eyes staring only into her Mistress’s. I know this... She thought, far away, through a haze and fog.

“Exactly.” Mistress Miranda Lawlor wrinkled her nose and stood. The kneeling girl didn’t say a thing. “However, it seems that you need some more time in this room.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Ronda said. Somewhere deep inside she wanted to ask questions. But questions weren’t part of obedience and she had only obedience left in her mind.

“Meanwhile, I will keep working on your dear husband.” She stood in front of Manfred’s body, one finger drawing circles over where his nipple would be. He must’ve been gagged, for no sound escaped him, even if his body shuddered strongly. “Slave06, you will remain. Clean the silly girl and deepen her programming. We cannot start the fun these two paid for until they both are mindless and obedient.”

The girl in question nodded.

Ronda wasn’t really aware of what was going on. She just kept staring at those eyes.

Ronda screamed as freezing cold water woke her. Her body shook and the chair bit into her legs. Her wrists felt sore where the manacles had chaffed her skin.

“What!?” She said, completely confused. Where was Mistress? What had happened? Where was Manfred?

She was wet, cold, and sore. At least she didn’t need to pee anymore. She was hungry now, though.

Movement caught her eye and she turned her head. A girl clad in PVC was kneeling in front of a small box and a bucket. Well, that answered one question and created more.

“Uhm... What is going on?” Ronda dared to speak. For some reason, that made her left cheek ache terribly.

The girl stood. She was wearing hooves-shaped boots that covered her legs all the way to where thighs met hips. Other than that, the girl was all black. Ronda couldn’t even see her eyes.

The girl walked towards Ronda, silently. She held something behind her back. Ronda started to trash as the girl in black knelt before her. Ronda started to trash wildly as the girl put a cold, wet and sleek finger against her labia. Ronda started to scream as the finger went in.

“Stop trashing.” The girl’s voice cut through Ronda like a hot knife through butter. It was her tone, the cheer peace and force behind it that did the trick. And something else left behind in Ronda’s mind. Ronda stopped trashing, stopped moving at all, and a very small, delightful heat spread through her. She had to clench her facial muscles lest the smile appear.

The girl kept working, moving a finger in and out, slowly, teasingly. She knew how to do this. Must’ve done it a hundred times.

Ronda had to bite her lips to not moan. She had to press all of her weight against the chair not to enjoy it.

Suddenly the finger went away. Ronda dared to look just in time to see the familiar shape of a dildo being slid into her.

This time she grunted, not entirely in anger.

“We’ll start slow. Then fast.” The girl said. How could Ronda hear such a clear voice even though the girl’s mouth was covered in PVC she couldn’t tell. And, to be honest, she didn’t care. There was this wonderful electric feeling between her legs, and this numbing sensation in her mind that seemed more important. Manfred? Where she was? All of those things had left her mind.

The girl’s voice echoed in the white room and then Ronda truly felt it. It hadn’t dawned on her until that point that she was in the Femdom Hotel. She had signed away her free will earlier on. She had told them everything about her fantasies, about what excited her, and Manfred. Even through the haze of a mind turned to mush, she could see it. And it made her smile. And it allowed her to surrender. As the girl’s voice echoed she turned on the device inside Ronda. Ronda screamed and lost all contact with the physical world.

The girl put something on her head, but she didn’t care.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, somewhere deep within herself, Ronda was enjoying, loving, needing more of the feelings that came from submitting and giving away her liberties.

* * *

Manfred was naked, ass to the air, face on the soft blankets. His ballgag was hurting his jaw, and the rope tying his hands to the bedposts in front of him was chaffing. The small discomforts were far away, though, far, far away. Manfred’s mind was occupied, swallowed, full to the brim with pleasure. And submission. His Mistress was pounding his ass, deep, hard, strong, and his entire being was on fire. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, his cock was hard as stone, his hole hungrily eating Mistress’s strap-on. And all he could do was delight in how... less he felt. He could barely call himself human, anymore; even less so a man.

Some time later Ronda climbed off of him, leaving his anus gaping and hungry. There was a wet mess somewhere near his chest, but Manfred didn’t care; he simply basked in the afterglow of submission. To his Mistress. To his Wife.

Ronda caressed his back and kissed his cheeks. He moaned like a dog.

“I love you too, dear.” She whispered in a voice leaden with lust. That had been a double strap-on she was wearing. Still wore. Vibrating one, too.

As senses climbed down from the high of endorphins, Manfred became aware of the extra pair of eyes dissecting him. Had they passed, he wondered. Mistress Miranda Lawlor was a hard woman to please, and an even harder Mistress to convince that the couple could now go on with their lives and that Manfred would never revert to a dominant position with his wife. As much as he loved the Hotel, he really wanted to go back home. Both of them wanted it. Ronda more than him. But they had failed the last four tests; sometimes because he didn’t submit enough, sometimes because Ronda wouldn’t dominate enough. And each time they were separated and brainwashed once more.

Manfred really hoped they passed this time.

Had it actually been a time when he thought he didn’t need to obey Ronda in everything?

How silly of him.

Mistress Miranda Lawlor stood and Manfred moaned in anticipation.