The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke and opened my eyes, though the room was dark enough that it made little difference. Some time around midnight, with moonlight too weak to reach through the curtains. It was silent except for the sound of my breathing, but I’d been woken by the gentle touch of a hand on my hip. I froze, tried not to let on that I was awake yet, while I tried to work out who it was. The first thought that snapped into my head was Who did I fuck last night? Did I get her name?, but that part of my life was behind me now. Now, I was a responsible guy with a regular girlfriend who thought the world of me, and who was such a good friend that I didn’t care we couldn’t have sex.

“Hello, pet,” Master’s voice growled in my ear, “Did you miss me?” I stiffened immediately; my whole body rigid with nervous apprehension, not knowing what might be coming next. My cock was already stiff, of course, because Master had commanded that it would be so. I couldn’t resist His orders no matter how hard I tried, even if I didn’t remember what He’d said. It had been months ago I’d offered myself to Metamorpheus on the internet, though at the time I’d assumed it was Mistress Metamorpheus. I’d been trying to spice up a life of empty, meaningless sex by adding hypnosis, domination and submission to the mix. I didn’t need that spice now, though, I was finally finding out what love meant. But when I’d emailed Him asking to be released, I got no reply. And my relationship with Master was the one thing I still hadn’t managed to share with Clara, the girl who would talk animatedly about anything that interested me.

“I told you,” I replied when I found my voice, “I don’t want this any more. Go, please, take these commands out of my head, and don’t come back.”

“You should know better than that,” He whispered the words right in my ear, the tickle of His breath sending shivers through my whole body. I wasn’t gay, you understand, I didn’t have any kind of desire for men, but by the time I’d found out that Master was male, He’d already programmed me to be helplessly servile, to be so aroused by how completely He controlled me. “I can’t even hear what you’re saying,” he said, “I’m not here. I’m a figment of your imagination brought on by hypnosis. If you want me to leave, you have to tell me in person.”

I closed my eyes, tried to convince myself that He wasn’t there, that there wasn’t a six foot six black bodybuilder gently but firmly squeezing my ballsack, but it was no use. I could imagine Him perfectly as he lay against me, I could feel the unfamiliar cocktail of pain and pressure surging through my body as his awesome, terrifying cock pierced my asshole. He was hard like a crowbar, and felt just as long. I wanted to protest, to say I didn’t want this, but it was hard to speak, I couldn’t even catch my breath against the electric jolts of pleasure that surged into my cock with each thrust.

Eventually, he came. I didn’t, though His giant calloused hands brought me to the edge more than a few times. When it was over, I begged Him to make this the last time, but I knew it was no use. He’d hypnotised me to see Him, feel Him there, and He couldn’t really hear anything I had to say. I didn’t even know what He really looked like; I doubted He was so well endowed in real life, but He could make me see whatever he wanted. Had I given control of my life over to some tubby no-life gamer, living His life over the internet from His mother’s basement? I couldn’t rule it out. Or maybe Master was a woman after all, and She’d made up this huge black guy out of some sick sense of humour to screw with me. That was exactly the kind of mindfuck that could turn me on the most, remind me of my helplessness. But ... even if She really was the hot Irish chick who I’d seen in my first dream, I wanted out now. Kinky dreams and awesome, animal sex couldn’t compare to the connection I felt with Clara.

I can’t believe I even thought that, but its true. I’d found what I was missing out on, maybe this is what they mean by love.

So when I woke up for real, I knew I had to tell Clara the truth. I had to tell her today, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I sent Master an email, repeating my previous request for release in case She hadn’t seen it. And then I headed off for work, loose clothes to conceal a tentpole begging to be touched, as was usual these days. I wondered, if I hadn’t found Clara, would Master now be resorting to more extreme mind games to make me feel used and helpless?

Work was ... well, work. I served some customers, but didn’t even bother to flirt when some hot chick came in. I fixed the machines, and reviewed invoices looking for Luke’s mistakes. The day rolled on and on, grinding slowly like some ponderous flywheel, and it seemed to last forever. Then I was free, and the first thing on my mind was to call Carla; if I couldn’t break free alone, maybe her support would give me an extra boost.

“Are you looking forward to tonight?” she sounded cheerful as always, but not bubbling over with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, of course!” I tried to sound excited, but inside I was kicking myself. So obsessed with sharing my secret, I’d completely forgotten we already had plans. “That thing with your brother?”

“Yeah, that thing,” there was just a trace of sarcasm in her voice, “You not having second thoughts are you, Master?” and there was the delighted giggle that said she was still buzzing with excitement, savouring the novelty value of the word and the whole orgasm infused role-play experience it reminded her of.

“No, I’m really looking forward to it, but there’s something —”

“We can skip it if you want,” she cut in, “I’ll do whatever you say.” And that was a trick question if I ever heard it, but cloaked in so many layers of meaning it took me a moment to work out what to say. She felt like it was important to go, to please her brother, but she was a little less enthusiastic about it. And at the same time, she liked to imagine herself without free will—almost like I did, I guess—so she was kind of hoping I’d put my foot down and show the fierce, Dominate side that turned her on so much. And, I’ll have to admit, gave me a hell of a thrill too. But if I said no now, that would be proving I don’t respect her family, and sooner or later that might take the fun out of the role to her. It might be fun to give someone else control, but only if you could trust them to make the right decisions. So what could I do to make this a win-win situation? That was my talent, after all, finding just the right thing to say...

“Master?” I realised as she spoke that I’d been thinking quietly for too long. Caring what she thought made this a much more delicate game.

“No, we’re going to see your brother, and I insist that you enjoy it. Your Master isn’t a ‘get out of family events free’ card, you know,” I lowered my voice a quarter octave, and made the last words a predatory hiss, “And you know I’ll have to punish you later for interrupting me.”

“Oh ...” I could almost hear her blush down the phone, and I knew she was feeling more than a little hot now. Yes, it was just a game, an act, nothing like the real bonds that tied me to Master. But it was enough to stir up our imaginings, to bring the erotic dreams of true control to the surface, and if I had to choose I think I’d prefer the safety of this kind of play over the added helplessness that a real relationship of helplessness brought.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” she said before I could, “Later, if that’s OK with you. Master,” and a little breathless gasp that said the word hadn’t lost its charm.

“Yes, we need to talk about this. Get some things in the open. But first, I’ll get my penguin suit from the cleaners, and we can have a night out the highbrow way.”

So, having got changed and negotiated all the challenges of getting there on time, we started the evening at a theatre. Not a movie theatre, but an actual show with people on stage singing words I couldn’t understand, slightly out of tune. I’d never done anything like this before, and I gathered Clara was on the fence whether it was worth the price. But her brother Stan (which apparently was short of Stanislaw, I learned from the programme) was heavily involved in the county Amateur Operatic Society, and she’d promised to lend our hands to the applause on opening night.

The show was actually a lot of fun. I couldn’t understand the words, but it didn’t matter that much. You could tell from the tone that he really wants to shag her, and she’s embarassed about something, and that other guy hangs around the two big chicks a lot but he’s not banged them yet. (“They’re his sisters!” Clara hissed in my ear; though for most of her supporting commentary I missed the words and just enjoyed feeling her so close, breasts pressed against my arm) The music was pretty funky too, like a kind of medieval dubstep. I could get into this, maybe. I didn’t think I’d ever go on my own, but it was a pretty good place for a date.

The old-fashioned seats were tightly spaced, too, so it wasn’t too obvious when Clara’s hands wandered up my leg, or when an arm around her shoulders turned into a gentle squeeze on her tits, or a pinch that made her go red as she attempted to hide the surprised squeek, a little reminder of what might be coming later.

Apparently there’s a tradition in this group that the cast always go to the same Irish bar and get wasted after the show; drowning their sorrows or celebrating success. In this case, it was very much the latter; 6 curtain calls was supposed to be a record. That’s where I finally got to meet Stan, a skinny young man who had either shaved right before the show, or his balls hadn’t dropped yet. From his performance on stage, where his voice was as high as either of the sopranos’, I wondered if that might actually be the case.

I was introduced to the rest of the stars in a whirl of handshakes, names, hugs and backslapping camaraderie. It seemed Clara had met some of these folks before, and Stan knew all of them, but I couldn’t keep up with who was who. Especially the one or two guys who started referring to others by their character’s names, which was a whole new level of confusion. After a while I excused myself just to give my brain a little time to sort through the pile of new information. How was I even supposed to know whose names were important to me, and who I’d never seen again? And more to the point, why did I care? It wasn’t like me at all; normally at this point in a date I’d be politely nodding and smiling, looking forward to fucking someone senseless in half an hour.

I don’t think I ever got so worried at a party before. I mean, everybody was drinking, one of the tenors was already wasted. But I wanted to make a good impression, against all probability I actually cared if these people liked me—especially Clara’s brother and whatever extended family he’d invited. I went into the gents and locked the cubicle door, just wanting a moment to myself so I could try and sort out what was happening in my head. Would it be easier to cope if I understood wh-

“Well, hello!” a voice interrupted my train of thought and I jerked my head around in shock. I was sure there hadn’t been anyone else in the cubicle a second ago, but the rough voice was clearly right behind me. Very close behind, in fact, as I could now feel a bulky body pressed up against me, a rock hard erection I could feel even through His clothes and mine.

“Master?” I hazarded a guess, realising only a second later just how much trouble that word could get me in if it somehow wasn’t Him.

“Well, who else, dear boy? I just felt you could do with a reminder that you’re still my toy to play with.” I closed my eyes and whimpered as his fingers closed around my cock, pumping me a few times to bring me to the edge. I tried to gather my thoughts, but it was so hard to focus with His hands there, He knew just the right way to touch me to make it hard to think. I couldn’t even bring out the words to tell Him again I needed Clara to be the only one with such a hold over me.

“Ah, everyone finds it easy to say ‘no more’ when a pretty girl arrives in his life,” He snarled, “but how do you know your love will last? You call me again when you’re married, then maybe I let you lovebirds get it on.”

“But,” I squirmed, trying to escape His grip even as my body protested that it wanted more, “No, that’s not fair!”

“You can cum again when you’re married, not before!” He didn’t seem to realise how big a deal that was for me, and I knew there was no way I’d convince Him. I just mumbled, almost incomprehensible as his thumb flicked across the tip of my cock, feeling oh so good.

“Oh, very well then,” a note of pity entered His voice for a moment. My heart leapt, and my cock twitched as he continued, “One more time before your long wait. You may cum now.” I couldn’t protest, I didn’t even have time as my balls exploded and jizz splattered across the wall of the tiny cubicle; I gasped and staggered, almost losing my balance for a moment as I realised my Master was gone.