The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

If you think that you have read stories of female domination, you ain’t heard nothing yet. This story is true. I met her at a party. Her name was Rachel. She was incredibly beautiful. A body to die for. Imagine your most favorite female lust object. This was her. I started talking with her and hitting on her. No matter how interesting the party was, I would much rather be with her, in any and every sense of the word. Most especially, I wanted to be inside of her. She had prominent breasts, blond hair, long legs, a beautiful and lively face, an actual waist (what a concept!), and a manner of confidence that got one’s attention. As we talked, she told me that she was a huntress, and that she was looking for a man. I chuckled to myself, as I didn’t want to scare away my prey. What I couldn’t understand was that she was completely alone in a moderately filled living room of someone’s house at a party. I asked her about that. She told me that she simply chased all of the other suitors off because she was waiting for me. I was both flattered and a tad anxious. Perhaps she was just giving me a line of some sort, and so I forgot about it.

Eventually after about 35 minutes of small talk, she ups and says, “Let’s go to my place.” To look at her, I was not about to argue about it. One mere look at her through males eyes would cause anyone to obey such a suggestion. We took our separate cars to her rather nice apartment/dwelling. As we walked in, she says, “I feel that you like dominant women. You like women who take charge.” I say as a joke, “Was my being a scorpio the tip off?” She says, “That was part of it. Would you like to be tied up?” I say, “That sounds delicious!”

She walks me into a back room and shows me a very wide massage table like table with numerous straps. I hesitate. I take another look at her. Then I say, “Let’s party.” She tells me to get undressed and lay on the table. She undresses. She has no padding or support. Her tits pout. Her hips flair. Her waist is narrow. She is a gorgeous love goddess.

I am trusting this woman who I barely know. Men think with their little head. This was either the biggest mistake that I have ever made, or the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t figure out which. She smiles very sweetly and becomingly at me and starts to strap me in. At first she does not tighten the straps, but once she gets all of my hands and feet in the straps, she quickly tightens them. I notice that there are other straps. One for my waist. One for my chest. One for my knees. Basically, when she is finished, I can barely move, and I was pretty much at her mercy. A character trait which, apparently, she did not have.

There was a strap for my head, but she did not apply it at this time. She puts a pillow under my head and smiles at me. Of course, my cock was already getting full. But now, seeing her gorgeous curves, breasts, and hips, my Sir Johnson salutes her exquisite feminine sexuality and beauty. Then she reaches over to a desk and picks out a syringe from the desk drawer. Now I am very unhappy, but what could I do? I could barely move except for my head. I cry, “What the fuck is going on here? Let me out of here. If you don’t stop, I am going to scream.” She says, “Go ahead. This room was especially constructed so that we could both scream our heads off. But don’t worry. This will not hurt you. It will merely give you a 3 or 4 hour boner and greatly enhance your libido and sensitivity.” I didn’t know that my libido needed to be enhanced, but I guess she wanted it enhanced, and I didn’t have much choice. She smiled sweetly at me again, with her glorious love globes almost in my face, and says again, “Please, do not worry. This is not going to harm you. It will simply give you the boner that every man dreams about.” I become a little less worried, but it does not matter because she darts the needle into my arm and injects the stuff into me. My boner was flagging from the worry and panic, but as soon as that drug hit me, it started to climb back onto its throne. And, jeez, was it hard. It was amazing. It felt so good, and I was so fucking horny. I forgot my worries. I sexually saluted the universe and loved it.

She tenderly reaches over to my pole and starts to stroke it. It felt so good. She was such a babe. This is going to be so great, I thought. She climbs on to the table and drapes her gorgeous globes in my face. I try to lick and suck her nipples but am only partly successful. She mounts me and slowly pushes her pelvis down and crams my cock into her pussy. There is very little that I can contribute, but who’s complaining.

She’s right. I am much more sensitive. The feeling is 10 times better than usual. She starts cranking up and down while I stare in amazement at her fabulous tits. She says, “Did I mention that I am insatiable?” “No, actually you didn’t.", I say, and groan with pleasure. And she says, “I can do it for hours. In fact, I am going to do it for hours. We are going to do it for hours. Does this please you?” “Oh, yes, Goddess!", I say. And she says, “You have no idea what you are saying. When I am finished with you, you will be so fixated on me that you will be my complete and utter slave.” I already was very happy to be her slave, but she just becomes silent and strokes away. Her love juices start to flow onto my lap and the leather straps holding my thighs and waist down. In and out, in and out. I am in bliss. She starts to cum, the first of many, and I follow suit. I explode inside of her; I almost pass out. She does so almost also, but catches herself.

This is where it gets weird. I am ready for a short rest. She rights herself and just keeps on stroking. I am 43 years old. I need a small rest after an orgasm or else I feel pain. My cock is not about to go limp on me like usual after a mind shattering orgasm; the injections sees to that. She just keeps on cranking. Because of the increased sensitivity, the pain is excruciating. I scream, “Hey!!! Let’s take a rest, you’re fucking killing me.” She just keeps on cranking. She closes her eyes and enjoys her bliss, and I start screaming at the top of my lungs for her to stop. Finally, she opens her eyes and smiles at me sweetly. I swear at that point that I am going to smash that sweet smile bloody when I get out of my harness. She says, “This is all part of the fixation process. Scream your heart out. Hate me. It will do you no good. I am insatiable. And the more energy and emotion and cum that you spew at me, the more fixated that you will become on me. In a couple of hours, I will own you. It does not matter if you know what I am doing. There is no hypnosis here, no power of suggestion. You will follow your cock and balls and emotions and anger and love and bliss and pain just like everyone else. And while I am fixating you on me, I get the enjoyment of a world class fuck. So, scream, baby, scream. Scream all that you want.”

After several minutes of her stroking and fucking and perspiring and cranking like a luv machine and my screaming and hating her and spitting at her, the pain subsides. She keeps on cranking. And I can see on her lovely face that she is oblivious as to whether I am experiencing pleasure or pain. Her vaginal mucus covers most of my lap. I am beginning to enjoy it again. God it feels good. It is so cool. Being deep inside of such a fucking love goddess, or a lovely fuck goddess. She is dripping with sweat. She leans over so that some over her lovely, fuck powered sweat runs down her goddess tits, on to her goddess nipples, and drops into my mouth, my eyes, my nose. I try to lap the drops up. I tell her, “Thank you, fucking love Goddess, thank you for your sweat, your love juices, your beauty, your fuck power, your wonderful tits, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” She just smiles at me and says, “In a few minutes, you will be hating my guts.” I can’t think about that; all I can think about is the glorious feeling of being buried inside of her and seeing her fabulous body humping me.

She cums. Since I have already cum, it takes me a little longer. Eventually, I explode with a monster of an orgasm, shooting my pearl jam into her. Again, silly me. I expect her to stop so I can catch my breath and not feel that very negative sensitivity that comes after cumming. I guess I am used to being in charge and being with women who give a rat’s ass how I feel. She didn’t. She just keeps on cranking. In and out, in and out. She stares into my eyes and I start screaming bloody fucking murder. I spit at her. I scream at her. I call her every fucking name in the book. I threaten her. I tell her that I am going to kill her, strangle her, tear out her fucking heart. She stares into my eyes and just keeps stroking. I fucking swear to God I thought that I would die from the pain. I wondered if it is possible to pass out from this kind of pain, and I wished that I would. She strokes and strokes and strokes. She uses me. Her eyes roll back in her head and she cums again and again and again. Did I mention that she seems to be insatiable, literally? All this while I am in agony.

Finally, the pain starts to subside, while she uses me, strokes, fucks, cranks, moans, cums, even screams in bliss. Whether I am in bliss and ecstasy or in pain and agony, doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to her. She smiles loving at me and fucks my fucking guts out either way. Some times while I am in excruciating pain, she cums. This goes on for 3 whole hours. I could bore you with the details, but basically I just keeps going through the same cycle. She goes through only the cycle of cumming and the bliss leading up to cumming. You think that you may have been used by a woman at some time in your sexual life. My experience with Rachel is REAL being used. I was drained and used and fucked. I think that this is what they mean when they say, “Fuck you!". This is real degradation.

Near the end of this incredible ride, my screams of ecstasy and agony became weaker and weaker. She was draining my energy. Finally, after more than 3 hours, my dick started to flag. She came one more time and rests, while I was still inside of her. She climbs off. You guys that whine “I feel so used. She used me for her sexual purposes.” You make me laugh. I could barely walk. I was so fucking depressed. I was so USED. I had been ridden from the heights of ecstasy to the depths of agony for more than 3 fucking hours (excuse the pun). And she must have cum 30 or 40 times. By this time I was in no mood to fight or hate her or love her. I just wanted out.

She reaches over to the desk again, and I was afraid that she was going to give me another shot of her love potion. Instead she pulls out a handgun. This, of course, was even more threatening than the syringe. She starts to unshackle me and says, “Don’t worry. This gun is just to make sure that you don’t try to kill me. I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t ever hurt my dear slave.” And I say, “Dear slave my fucking ass. When I leave here, you will never see me again.” But I say it with very little passion. I have no passion. I am so wasted! She just smiles.

Then she says, “And don’t bother calling the police. When you leave, this place will turn into a normal looking home. And what policeman is going to believe your story. Remember, women are supposed to be the weaker sex, and policemen are such big, strong men. They will just laugh at you if you tell them that I raped you. Raped you! I fucking own you. Sure, here’s the door. Just go out into the world. Tell yourself how much you hate me. Don’t worry about the depression; it will pass. Please don’t kill yourself. This deep depression will pass in a couple of days. Next time, when you can’t help coming back for more, I will give you some pills to help make the depression go away. Now, don’t worry about a thing. I’m not. I know that you will be back begging for more, begging on your knees for me to fuck your guts out again. You are fixated on me. I own you. I own your balls. I own your cock. I own your emotions. I own your energy. I own your will. I own you better than if I had a chain around your neck. If I physically restrained you, you would not be willing. But in a couple of days, you will be my willing slave. You will bring me money; you will help support me. You will think of nothing but me. You will want no one but me. Now, out you go. See you in a few days.” I grumbled, “Not fucking likely” and left.

I got home about 1 A.M. and sit on my bed and feel like utter shit. I am glad that she told me that the depression would pass. I would never have taken any pills that she gave me since I did not trust her, but her telling me about the depression passing saved my life. I would most certainly have killed myself that first night. The next day was Saturday, and I was still deeply depressed. I watched football and hated her guts. Sunday, I felt a little more human, watched football, and hated her guts. I went back to work on Monday and hated her guts. I was sufficiently improved from the depression such that I could fake my way through work, and I hated her guts. By Tuesday, I was feeling better, and I started thinking that perhaps she was not such a complete bitch. I kept improving each day. By Friday, just thinking about her gave me a boner. In fact, I couldn’t think about anything else. It was hard to work. I work at a desk, so I could hide my stick under the desk. I called her on Friday and asked her if I could see her again but that I didn’t want any more pain.

She said, “See, I told you so. You can fight it or and even know about it, but it is resistless. You will serve me and come to me again and again and again. I own you. After I gave you the treatment, I own you. If I think that you need another treatment, then I will include the pain in our fucking. Now, you can come over tonight, but I want you to bring $1000. I gotta pay the rent.”

I told her, “You have got to be kidding. You are one fucking arrogant bitch. No whore is worth $1000.”

She said, “I am no whore. I am your owner. I can see that you need another treatment. Perhaps a 6 hour treatment would bring you to your knees. Give me a call when you are ready.” And then she hung up.

I was pissed. The next day I went to the gym to work out and get her out of my mind. Funny thing is, I saw many babes at the gym, but I did not lust at any of them. All I could think of was Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. But Sunday, I was craving her so fucking bad. I craved her smile. I craved her pussy. I craved her hips. I craved her tits. I craved her confidence. I craved her more than I have ever craved any woman. I craved her from afar more than I craved any woman I was just about ready to cram my cock into. I became utterly obsessed with her. I tried jacking off. It wouldn’t get hard. All I could think of was her. I was afraid that if I tried to go to work like this that I would not be able to accomplish anything.

So, damn, I called her again. Asked her if I could come over again. She asked me if I had the $1000. I told her, OK, just this once, so that you can pay the rent. I wanted her so bad. I wanted the domination, the pleasure, even the pain so fucking bad. I wanted her smile. I was totally fixated on her.

I get to her house. I give her the money. She tells me to use the bathroom. She straps me in. I am very ambivalent, at least in my heart, but certainly not in my balls and my actions.

She gives me the injection. This time she also gives me a drink. The drink tasted very good. She tells me that it will enhance the experience. As if the experience needed to be enhanced. She tells me that I am a tough nut to crack, so that is why she gave me the drink. My dick gets hard. Between looking at her and the injection and the drink, a catatonic schizophrenic would get a boner.

She climbs on. And I am in ecstasy, then agony, then ecstasy, then agony, and so forth and so on. Up and down, in and out. I am getting the fuck of the fucking century. And it is even better than last time, thanks to the drink. After 3 hours, she asks me if I have to use the bathroom. I say no. She climbs off and gets another drink and another syringe. She gives them both to me. The drink gives me extra energy. She tells me that it is a combination of spirulina, colostrum, nutritional yeast, wheatgrass juice, and other secret ingredients. So I am not so depressed at the 3 hour mark.

Then she climbs on again and starts fucking the living life out of me, in and out, in and out. Her hips are like a machine, except that she is cumming and trembling and rolling her eyes back in her head. Three hours of pleasure for her and three hours of pleasure and pain for me. Then she finally stops after one last cum on my part. She looks at me and says, “Now, no more rebellion, little man with a big cock.”

I was so fucking wasted, energy drink or not. She unstraps me and I roll off the table and walk out the door. Even though I was pretty depressed, I knew that I was owned. I hated the thought of sex, but I knew that I would soon change my mind on that one and that I would be back. I just hoped that she would be a little kinder when it came to my little post-cum pain problem. But it didn’t matter what I hoped. She was in complete charge. I was resigned to her will.