The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Olivia’s House

Chapter 9 — The Dungeon, and Learning

❧ September 28th. Monday.

It was like there was nothing in the world except Master and how much I love him, and all the bliss he can give me. It was incredible, and I can honestly say it was somehow more satisfying than anything I’d experienced before. It was amazing.

As the euphoria started to fade, the real world intruding into my little private slice of heaven, I slumped against the wall. I would have been on my knees. No, any other time I might have hoped my legs would turn to jelly like that, I would have expected to be lying catatonic in bed, too weak to move but grinning like a Cheshire cat for the rest of the week. Here I was standing up, but my legs would no longer support me. My arms were pulled tight, tied to the wall above my head, and I just hung there. My shoulders should have been screaming in agony, but I could barely hear them over the continuing burning from my back, where a hundred parallel lines of bruises were punctuated by the sharper feeling of too-salty sweat running over cuts and weals.

I’d known for a long time that I enjoy certain types of pain, but I’d never experienced anything so intense, when I’d always had to worry about being able to hide the marks from my family. I’d never before had pain and pleasure blur together until I didn’t know why I was screaming. This was the first time Master had beaten me, and I was surprised and amazed by the experience.

His arm was a strong presence around my waist, taking the weight off my arms. His shirt was roughly woven, I remember, and slightly coarse against my tortured back. He unbuckled a strap around my head, releasing 3 fastenings while I just hung there, happily limp. The gag popped out of my mouth, and two days’ stubble scratched at my neck as he whispered: “Are you okay?”

I just nodded. I was delighted, and still slightly spaced out. I would have agreed with anything he said at that point. Not because he was my Master, and I’d sworn to obey him. Not because he had put those words in my mind, and could change how I thought. Just because I felt so good that for the next couple of hours my brain wouldn’t even think the word ‘no’.

Jim held me, supported me with strong hands. A creaking sound came from the strange wooden construct behind me, and a smooth piece of timber tapped the back of my thighs. I sat gratefully, my feet lifting off the floor. I could look around a bit more now, and saw that I was still wearing my socks, though the rest of my clothes were gone. There was some blood on my legs, but not as much as I’d thought. Jim tenderly wiped me clean, and I just sat in a haze of blissful afterglow. It should have seemed surreal, but in that moment it felt so right for him to be caring for me like that, making sure my body and mind were intact after the most extreme experience I’d ever put myself through.

I wanted to ask him if he’d want to do something like this with the others. I know Alex wouldn’t be into it, so this would probably be something that was just for me and him. I had no idea if Jules was into pain or not. Some of the people on Controlspace found it exciting, and got off on violence. Some didn’t enjoy it so much, but put up with a sign of how devoted they were, how much they’d do for the person they loved or submitted to. And others liked their control to be comfortable, just trying different experiences rather than pushing limits; or found that humiliation made for a more intense punishment experience. I knew people on that chatroom who fit into just about every category, but even after my first attempt at detective work, I had no idea which of those people might be my housemate, Jules.

Though the thought came to my mind, I was too relaxed and comfortable to ask questions just at that moment. Too horny to think much, as well, even though it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life (and that’s quite a record).

As Master gently massaged my back, avoiding every sore spot and anointing the wounds with some kind of soothing cream, his hands did touch my sides, and trace gentle lines on my hips. After a while, I thought he might be deliberately teasing me. Every thought came slowly, floating through a haze of pink satisfaction like a feather settling on my mind, but the impression was eventually there. I didn’t feel like talking, to break the moment, but laid one of my hands gently on his, and let it rest there for a moment. Then I gently drew his hand to my breast and let him feel how hard my nipples were.

“You’re ready for more?” he growled into my ear. The need in his voice sent shivers through me, and that was all the answer he needed. His grip on my breast was firm but tender, focusing all my attention in one place. Then a sudden tweak, pinching my nipple and twisting to elicit a gasp of surprise.

I felt weightless for a moment as he lifted me. He had one hand on my breast and one arm tight around my waist, yet he was still able to pull on the cords that held my wrists, suddenly tight again, and to tilt and slide the mysteriously jointed timber panel I’d been sitting on. His hand moved down from my waist, feather-light tough closely skirting my navel, then moved down to my crotch. I couldn’t quite tell what he did with his fingers to make it so different from everything I did myself. He knew exactly what to do, though, to send my mind spiralling down into a spiral of oblivious bliss.

I felt metal on my feet and ankles, clinking coldly so I could feel the chill even through thin cotton socks. Not cuffs this time, but… stirrups? I had no idea what he was planning now, it was exciting like a roller coaster where I had no choice but to go with whatever he had in mind until I reached the end. The spar I’d been sitting on wasn’t under me any more, so I was supported just by my heels, the cables around my wrists, and Master’s fingers pinching at my clit. He didn’t need to restrain my feet this time because there was nowhere to move them to. I could stay where he put me, or drop with my full weight on my arms, and I was pretty sure that would be painful in a bad way. It was a new kind of bondage to me, not restrained but nontheless incapable of escape.

My breathing got quicker as his hand went to my thighs. A minor epiphany, I realised that part of what made Master different wasn’t what he did to my cunt, but the almost-there teasing that kept me on the edge for so long. Up and down my thighs, gentle caresses. He knew just how to touch me so that every movement of rough skin on skin, or the occasional threat of his nails, made me so hot I couldn’t think straight. He kept me panting, needing more, but didn’t let ms get off until the pressure that had built up inside me was more than I ever thought I could bear.

I felt his cock, rigid like a steel bar, slap against the dmall of my back. It startled me for a moment and I recoiled as far as I could, thrusting my hips forward a scarce few inches. The movement brought his palm against my clit. The slightest friction on my hood as I instinctively rocked took me to new heights, and he bunched his hand to effortlessly slip a finger inside me.

I knew that if I moved, the rhythm would get me off in a minute or less, release the tremendous anticipation built up by his teasing. I knew that he could push me over the edge with just a word,he knew my sensitive spots better than I knew myself. I had no idea which he had planned, and I didn’t have the strength to wonder. My head was full of knowing, feeling, wanting, and needing, with no room for thinking.

I didn’t expect to feel his cock between my buttocks, slick with lube. For all I’d played around, I’d never really enjoyed that. But with just a second to get used to the pressure on my asshole, he rammed into me like a jackhammer.

I screamed, I remember, but I couldn’t tell you if it was pleasure or pain. Then the new sensation was pushed aside as his every thrust pushed me against his hand, stimulating every sensitive point at once. My shriek became an unequivocal yelp of joy, and my eyes closed so I could just concentrate on the giddy mix of feelings. I’d never cum from anal before, but Master’s skill with his fingers, his expert blending of tender and forceful movement, and whatever words he might have buried in my mind to enhance the experience, all ensured that today would be a wonderfully sweat-soaked first time. And a second, and third, until I was so exhausted I didn’t even remember being carried back to my room.

❧ September 29th. Tuesday.

I woke with Alex looking into my eyes. Her smile was radiant; and mine must have been so wide, the top of my head might fall off. The sun was low on the horizon, I wasn’t even sure of the time.

“I missed you this morning,” I whispered, then realised too late what I’d said, hoping my jealousy wouldn’t hurt her.

“I missed you too,” she leaned closer to plant a kiss on my cheek, feather light. “And I think that’s yesterday now. You were so exhausted, I figured you could use some sleep.”

It took a moment to wrap my mind around her words, but when I did I didn’t need to think about my response: “I love you.”

After a comfortable, intimate few moments where snuggling was all we needed, I propped myself up on one elbow to ease the pressure on my bandaged back, and asked uncertainly if we had any plans for the day. I still hadn’t got around to putting the college induction timetable somewhere I could see it.

“Well, there’s a meeting this afternoon,” she pouted, as if resenting the intrusion of education into our otherwise-blissful lives in a new home, “But this morning I got you all to myself. I was wondering, if you’re still too tired for anything energetic…”

I nodded. I’d need at least a day to recover after yesterday’s orgasmic ordeal.

“Maybe you could show me that chat room you were talking about?”