The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It’s hard to sleep some nights. Alone. Alone... without Master.

It’s hard, even on the days when I know His schedule, when I know exactly when He’ll be coming home to me. I try not to watch the clock and count every single minute. Honestly, I do. And it’s not as if there aren’t plenty of other things to occupy my mind. The girls always keep me busy, and few things compare to snuggling up close to Jecca and JJ and watching a movie, buried underneath a thick fuzzy blanket. Still... it’s in the wee hours of the night, when they’ve all gone to bed, that I miss Him the most.

My day starts fairly early, at six-twenty in the morning, checking to make sure my daughter is awake, and getting ready for school. Then making sure she is fed, and that JJ and myself have something for our lunch. THEN quickly bathing, dressing, styling, make-up, and getting everyone out the door by seven-thirty. All the while I’m wishing I was still in my warm soft bed, snuggled up tight against Him, asleep.

Ten-forty. Damn. I need to stop thinking so much and let myself drift off to sleep. It’s so easy on nights when He’s home. It’s kind of amazing, really... the way He can just calm me with a single touch. How the sound of His voice soothes me, relaxes me, and just makes the stress and worry of the day just fade away...

I jerk back to myself, licking my lips slightly. I actually started to nod off, just thinking about His touch. Maybe... maybe if I just think about what it’ll be like when Master gets here, I can relax enough to drift off until he actually shows up.

I slide underneath the covers, switching off the TV, placing the remote on His side of the bed, in case He wants it when He comes in. Naked, as always, it takes a second or two for my body to adapt to the coolness of the silken sheets against my flesh. Closing my eyes, I imagine Him, His hands caressing my bare skin. I shiver slightly, moaning... His hands are always cold, at first, drawing the very heat from me, even as they ignite an even deeper heat lower in my belly. Strong hands, but smooth, mostly from the creams and oils He uses to massage me when I’m sore. Which is more often than I’d like to admit.

A few soft caresses of my side, and I’m trembling again. Even in the deepest part of sleep it stirs me, and I moan softly, turning, pushing my body into Him, closer to Him. I feel the roughness of His cheek then, His face moving to mine, a soft caress of flesh against flesh, as His lips claim me, first along my collarbone and neckline, moving sensuously along my jaw, nibbling, kissing, sucking, until I’m struggling even to stay asleep in the most erotic dream I’ve ever had, my thighs clenching, swishing underneath the covers. My eyelids flutter, flutter... and then His lips meet mine, and my eyes open as pleasure erupts from within my very core.

Nearly breathless to begin with from the wicked kissing He’d given me, I can only moan and gasp as His kiss sucks the rest of my breath away. My hands, clutching at myself underneath the covers, reach out for Him, pulling my Master closer to me, Sometimes He pulls away, smirking a devilish little grin, telling me He has only come to check on me and is going out to the kitchen to eat. Ahhh... but not this time. This time, His chest is bare, His shirt discarded, His pants and shoes likewise tossed onto the floor. My heartbeat races as He slowly, gently, slides into bed next to me. Electricity seems to arc from His naked flesh to mine at the contact, and before I even realize I’m moving, I’ve pulled Him into a deep embrace.

Sleep is a long distant memory now, and I smile at Him as He snuggles me close, content to touch, stroke, and caress my body. I’m content now, perfectly happy to simply drift, to just exist in this happy floaty blissful place that His touch takes me, not asleep, but not fully awake either, just drifting...

And then His hand slides along my inner thigh, raising gooseflesh in its wake, and suddenly I’m all too aware of Him, my arousal taking precedence now, making me writhe and clutch at Him all the more, wanting, needing more.

Before Jonothan, I’d never truly known what it meant to yearn for someone, to desire so strongly, to physically NEED another person so deeply, so intensely, that it completely destroys your mind, your ability to think and reason. So simple a thing, a touch, a caress, a look the way He looks when His eyes narrow and I just know that He wants me as fiercely as I want Him. All this, and more, He stirs in me with His hands.

I want nothing more than to feel Him push my thighs apart, climb up in between them, pull my ankles up high atop His shoulders, and feel Him take me... deeply... powerfully... My lips tremble with the unasked plea, knowing that He would fulfill my desire in a heartbeat... but I can’t bring myself to ask. For years He’s trained me, conditioned me, to react as His slave, as His property. I am His, anytime He wishes it, in any way He desires. God... what He can do to me with just a single word, or touch! But... my pleasure is only for Him, and if He wanted me, He would take me. I know this. I welcome it, eagerly. But tonight, it is not to be.

“Relax.”

I hear His voice, the word echoing strangely in my ears... or in my mind? Am I asleep again? Am I dreaming? My body feels so hot, feverish, even, and I don’t remember now if I am under the covers, or if I’ve already kicked them off. His voice... did He speak? Is He here, now, or am I dreaming? It’s dark in the room, the lamp turned off. Did I turn it off before I lay down? I don’t recall. I try to sit up, to turn over and reach for the light, but I can’t move. My body’s not responding... the way it does when He’s playing with me...

“That’s better. Just relax, sweetheart. No need to wake just yet.”

So... I am asleep. Good. I was trying to sleep, needed to sleep... but am I dreaming my Master’s voice, or is He home now, on the bed beside me, whispering His soft powerful words into my mind? I don’t know, and despite His words keeping me relaxed and sleepy, my arousal and need at still there, still just barely held in check. My body is a gun, my arousal is a hair trigger, and all it will take is just the right touch from Master to set me off.

Oh God, I need Him. I need Him so badly! Please, please, don’t be just a dream.

He chuckles softly, as if He’s read my thoughts. “Seems like someone is all hot and bothered. Perhaps you need something to... take the edge off?”

Oh no. He’s feeling playful. I feel equal parts elation and dread wash through me for a moment before the overwhelming, ever-present arousal drowns it out. In this state, anything would set me off and Master knows it, but sometimes He delights in bringing me off in different ways. Sometimes He slips underneath the covers and licks my clit until I explode. Sometimes He puts me in a deep mindless trance and commands my body to fuck Him ‘til He’s spent. Some nights, He hypnotically paralyzes me so that I can’t move and tickles me until I cum screaming, other nights He playfully and seductively sucks and nibbles my oh so sensitive toes, one at a time, until I’ve orgasmed ten times, one for each toe. The choices were practically endless, the only limits were the limits of His imagination, and my ability to endure.

“Watching game, sweetheart,” He murmurs softly, letting His mouth hover tantalizing close to my ear for just a second before pulling away.

My arousal, which I’d thought peaked with the touch between my thighs, reached new heights. The Watching Game. I really, really hoped this was real now; if this was a dream and it continued on in this vein I was going to soon become very vocal, and the last thing I needed was to have my daughter coming in to make sure I was okay. Unfortunately, even that thought revved up my treacherous arousal—at the mention of the Watching game, my arousal became directly tied to my feelings of humiliation.

The Watching Game, as my Master calls it, is a hypnotically induced hallucination, in which I suddenly find myself naked, sexually turned on beyond belief, and yet utterly exposed. It’s like being in a dimly lit and crowded room, with dozens, maybe even hundreds of people, gathered around me, all hidden in the shadows, just out of sight, half-glimpsed from the corner of my eye. It makes me incredibly self-conscious, and embarrassed, and yet, at the same time, it turns me on like crazy. It’s the best of both worlds, having the embarrassment that turns me on so powerfully, while being in a completely safe environment, knowing deep down that I am not REALLY having sex while being stared at by hundreds of strangers.

As the fantasy flows over me, I begin to lose myself to it. Master is there, of course, whispering softly, talking dirty, telling me what a naughty dirty little slut I am, what a cum-starved little whore I am... all the while His hands are touching me, stroking me, pumping within me, as well as squeezing and groping without. I’m floating in that halfway place again, only so much stronger. Everything is blending together, Master’s words, His touch, the soft murmured voices of the ‘onlookers’ watching me... my shame and humiliation barely have time to register before being swallowed up in my growing need to cum. I’m whimpering, babbling nonsensical words, issuing a plea for mercy the only way I can, with my body.

I need it, Master. Please. PLEASE! Oh God, I can’t take this, not another second—

“CUM.”

Eruption. Explosion. Is it possible to feel so much pleasure that for a moment you don’t feel ANYTHING? It feels for an instant as if every nerve, every cell, every atom of my body has been ripped from me... and then the backlash of pleasure comes. And comes, and comes. My mouth opens wide, but I can’t tell if I’m screaming of just gasping silently. My ears and my eyes no longer work, no longer register any sensation except touch, and the only sensation I can feel is OH-MY-GOD-PLEASURE. I’m dimly aware of Master’s presence, like a guardian angel, or an anchor, keeping me from losing myself completely, settling me, centering me as, at last, at long last, the pleasure begins to fade...

I groan, rolling over as the alarm clock goes off. I open my eyes reluctantly, then close them against the glare of the sunlight shining in through the window. I hit the snooze button and sigh deeply before rolling out of the bed. I glance back at my Husband, still sleeping peacefully. And I wonder, again, as i do every night, whether the pleasure of last night actually happened, or whether it was just another dream. As I look at Him, I’m overcome again by a powerful feeling of love and tenderness. I love Him so much, sometimes that it hurts. My vision blurs, and i realize that I’m crying. I wipe my tears, and make my way across to His side of the bed. Carefully, trying not to wake Him, I lean forward and kiss his gently.

“I love you, Master,” I whisper softly, feeling my heart beat fiercely at the contact.

“And I love you too, baby,” He replies softly, reaching up to caress my cheek. “Have a good day at work.”