The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain hammered against the windshield of my beat up old gray Geo, and blew sideways in the beams cast by my headlights.

Fortunately, the drive to the local Super 8 wasn’t too complicated, and the section of highway between it and my house was deserted. I took the exit and double checked the intersection before pulling onto 1st Street. Then I took a left and pulled into the parking lot. It was almost empty: just a handful of cars and two semis for the whole place. I shut the engine off, flipped up the hood on my jacket, and sat there a minute, pulling out my phone. The time read 8:19. My car’s clock was seven minutes fast, but I never remembered to fix it until I turned it off.

I wondered if I could still turn around and head back home. All I really needed to do was turn the engine back on and pull back out. Except that my parents thought I was over at my friend Mindy’s house for the night. Mindy thought I was going home, and so it wouldn’t be too hard for someone to put two and two together. I was twenty years old, but it didn’t seem to keep everyone out of my business.

And, of course, I’d probably never be asked to come out here again. He’d think I was chicken. Maybe he’d find some other girl.

I couldn’t risk that.

With great effort, I put the phone away and pulled the car keys out of the ignition. They felt as heavy as a ton of bricks, and my hand was a little shaky, but I managed to get them in my pocket.

Then I grabbed my overnight bag, opened the door and slipped out into the rain. I wanted to jog to keep from getting drenched, but it was all I could do to make myself put one foot in front of another.

The night manager’s unflappable boredom was a fascinating contrast with my own nerves: she barely even spared me a glance when I offered her cash for the room, and gave me a laconic, “Sure,” when I told her a man would be coming by for a second room key shortly. Afterward, she returned to her book like I wasn’t there at all. I guess she’d seen so many hookups she barely even noticed them anymore.

I wondered if anybody else had come here for a tryst like mine.

I set my bag on the bed, then pulled out my phone again and opened my contact list. Mindy’s name came with a little portrait of Hello Kitty. I tapped it, then wrote:

[8:33 PM] Me:

got home ok

[8:34 PM] Mindy:

thx. nite Sheila.

[8:34 PM] Me:

nite Mindy

Then I tapped a second icon, one with a little black and white spiral, and swallowed heavily at the last message before replying:

[9:47 AM] Master:

Be at Super 8 on 1st St by 9PM. Send room # when you get there.

[8:37 PM] Me:

here Master. #217.

I imagined my heart might explode while I waited for a response, so I squeezed my eyes shut and tried relaxing the way he’d taught me, our first night talking. I took a deep breath and held it, focusing on the tension in my body and how it centered right in my chest. After a long moment, I exhaled, imagining all my tension draining with it. I said softly, “One.” Then I did it again.

By ten, I was no longer worried about having a heart attack or stroke.

At seventeen, I didn’t even jump when the phone buzzed in my hands. Instead, I opened it back up.

[8:41 PM] Master:

See you soon. Be ready.

[8:41 PM] Me:

yes Master

My hand shook as I hit ‘Send.’ I wanted to close my eyes and go back to counting to steady myself. Then he replied, and the thought fled my brain:

[8:42 PM] Master:

Good Girl

The praise sent a little thrill down my spine. I replied, without even thinking about it:

[8:42 PM] Me:

i obey

We’d been talking about tonight for weeks. Well, he did more and more of the talking, and I did more and more soaking it in. Either way, I knew what I had to do. I set the phone on the table beside the bed, just in case he needed to be in touch again before he got here. Then I left my wet coat, shoes and socks in the suite’s closet. Finally, I took the gym bag and headed to the bathroom.

I peeled out of my wet clothes, bagging them up so they wouldn’t get everything else in my overnight bag damp. Then I took a minute to stare at my reflection critically. I did my best to stay in shape: I jogged and watched what I ate. People always told me I was pretty. It was too easy to see the flaws, though: there was a blemish on my left side, and I still needed to drop a few pounds. Still, I’d shaved my pussy just like he wanted.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice the rest. Boys were good at overlooking all that.

I pulled out the outfit he’d told me to bring: a lacy black bra and panties… and a blindfold. I put on the underwear and went to lay on the bed. I put the blindfold on and waited.

This time, I did count again. It wasn’t the same without him leading the way, setting the rhythm for my breathing, but it did still work. After a while, my pounding heart slowed down. My body felt relaxed and loose. I was even able to stop thinking about what was about to happen.

After a while, I began to feel like I was floating. It was almost the same delicious sensation I always felt when Master and I spoke. I didn’t feel like I was saying numbers aloud anymore: it was more like someone else was doing it, somewhere far away, and I could only hear her distantly. I was dimly aware that the sensation was making me wet, but I felt disconnected from it too.

By the time the door opened, my head was so muddled I thought it might be happening on TV.

It wasn’t until a bell rang that everything changed.

A bell means pay attention.

The thought clicked in my head, as certain as ‘water is wet’ and ‘the sky is blue.’ I stopped counting and waited, drifting.

In the movies, people talk about hypnosis like you’re mindless or blank, maybe some kind of robot. That wasn’t quite right, at least not at first. Mostly, it felt very good. My body was warm and relaxed, so limp and loose I thought I might melt into the bed.

My head wasn’t empty yet either, just muddled: the sort of pleasant confusion that comes with being half asleep. Where any idea might either evaporate to nothing at a moment’s distraction, or spin into a vivid dream if nudged.

I had more than enough presence of mind to realize that my nipples were stiff and my lacy black panties were soaked, I just felt far too sluggish to do anything about it.

“One.” Master only ever spoke to me when I was deep. Somewhere, I knew there was a reason for that, but I had no idea what it might be.

I wouldn’t have cared, even when I was awake. I felt a thrill run down my spine and heard myself repeat softly, “One.”

He didn’t need to tell me what to think about anymore. I could already picture a set of stairs in my mind’s eye, lush pink carpet between my toes, a smooth hardwood banister under my right hand.

Between the sound of my own breathless voice, and the crystal certainty of what would happen next, I shivered with pleasure.

Master continued firmly, “Two.”

“Two,” I echoed, just as dreamily as before. My pussy clenched.

He kept counting, sending me deeper and deeper into dreamland.

Eventually, I was too far gone to recognize the words he was saying, even as I parroted them back at him.

My world was warm, velvety darkness. I might have floated like that for moments, hours or days.

And then a pair of strong hands touched me. I let out a little gasp of surprise, and for a single befuddled moment I wondered whose they were. Then I remembered that I was with my Master for the first time.

I wanted to help or encourage him, but I was too sluggish and heavy to even squirm. My sensation of helplessness was so much more intense than it ever was when we just chatted. It wasn’t just his physical presence, though I’d daydreamed about that for weeks.

The blindfold made me feel completely off balance. At his mercy.

Master didn’t really need my help anyway. His touch was firm and confident. I let out a soft little gasp as he pushed me down onto the pillows with one hand, and reached between my legs with the other. The weight of his body keeping me pinned against the cool sheets felt wonderful.

Then he rubbed at my slick folds through the thin fabric of my panties, working his stiff fingers up and down. I wanted to cry out, but my mouth just hung open.

When he pulled my panties down, I managed to lift my butt up just long enough to get them past it. The simple motion was incredibly draining. I was grateful when he put his strong hands on the insides of my thighs and spread my legs for me, like I was some kind of doll.

‘Grateful’ didn’t cover it when he actually slid a finger inside me, probing lightly. Pleasure built at his touch, and I wriggled as best I could. I wished that I could impale myself on him.

When he pulled the finger out of me, I let out a plaintive little noise.

The bed shifted as he moved on it, but he didn’t touch me right away. Instead, he left me in the dark for a long and agonizing moment.

Then, he began to rain touches on me at random. He ran his fingertips along my right side, his featherlight touch raising goosebumps on my creamy skin. His fingertips brushed my nipple. He laid butterfly kisses on my soft belly, before nibbling at the nape of my neck. He dragged his tongue along each of my nipples, hot and wet and rough. He breathed in my ear, his hot and steamy exhalation sending a thrill of tingling pleasure down my spine.

Master was everywhere, his touches driving me insane. My skin ached to be touched, and my pussy was soaking. I wriggled and moaned, too incoherent to even beg properly.

I was so far gone that I wouldn’t have known what to ask for anyway.

Just when I thought I would scream from the delicious torture, Master brought it to a sudden and decisive end: he rammed three fingers into me, hard and stiff and oh-so-wide. Then he began to thrust them into me, hard and fast.

I made tiny little cooing noises of pleasure as he fucked me with his hand. In my nearly lust-crazed state, deprived of sight, the sensation was almost overwhelming.

Then, impossibly, it got even more intense. Master hooked his fingers inside me, pressing hard against the sensitive top of my inner passage. My breath caught in my throat at the incredible mix of pressure and pleasure, and my eyes went wide beneath my blindfold.

“Cum, Sheila,” Master finally ordered me, “Cum now!”

My body twitched and I spasmed at his command. And as I had my first orgasm of the night, I realized that I wasn’t blind at all:

I saw stars.