The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

But I Don’t Really Want This, Chapter 18

Wow, my owner organised a blowjob coach to come over and to give me some pointers.

My owner told me how I was to behave around the coach. I made a fool of myself! I’m not going to bore you with the details of the things I did or said, but,... well I can’t wait for my owner to come home so I can suck a real cock instead of the coach’s dildos. I actually did learn a thing or two. Another reason I can’t wait for a real cock.

He is having some after work drinks. I phoned him just now and he will be home in an hour. But I’m so horny, and he told me not to cum until he was back! Even worse, he told me to keep myself horny. If necessary, I should masturbate without cumming. He said he wanted ‘my motor to still be running’ when he got back.

It definitely will be still running. Guaranteed.

I had two beers on an empty stomach, I feel so good!

I just got another beer. :D

Reading your comments and questions is keeping me entertained.

* * *

Feeling so horny and bad, and a few of you have asked, so there you go! In the second image you can see the surgery scars, but they have faded A LOT! Very pleased with that. Very pleased with them!

Selected Comments


Wow, HOT!


this is a woman. your owner is a lucky guy. does he share?


if i was your boyfriend i wuodnt be out. id be at home taken care of that pusy dm me ;)


Very nicely done. Any plans to go bigger?


You look amazing. I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while. How was your experience? Any regrets? I’m not sure my boyfriend would be as ‘supportive’ as yours though!


nothing sexier than a woman showing off.

increasingly-ornamental-cock-moistener [9.12pm]:

thanl you so much for the nice commenst!!! felt really SEXU reading them. silly-sentnel, i totally recomendd it doctor was great takes a while to recoverand was vey weird tfirst but love them now

increasingly-ornamental-cock-moistener [9.13pm]:

so drunk! :D need spellcheck! xxx

* * *

Well, I think we can all agree that last night was interesting. My owner came back after my last comment. He had had a couple of beers, but also food, so he was only a small bit drunk. I told him how horny I was, and that I had done something really hot, and really bad. He looked worried at first and then I started to wonder, maybe it was too much? What had I done? I tensed up. What? he asked, and I showed him my laptop.

At first I saw surprise on his face, followed by relief, and then by amusement. He laughed out loud, HA! I felt a weight leave my shoulders. Anonymous, faceless pictures, I reassured myself. You’re not angry, I asked? Are you drunk? 3 beers, no food.

He stood up and the smile disappeared. His mood seemed to darken. Even though my heels were 6 inches, and that makes me taller than him, he suddenly made me feel very small. Get me the whiskey and a glass he said. I wobbled into the kitchen on the heels and brought them back. Pour me a glass. Give it to me. Then, he held it back out to me. Take it, he said. I took it. Drink it. I took a sip. Drink it all, now. I downed it all. I coughed. I didn’t have time to block my mouth with my hand and sprayed a bit. There was a dribble of saliva on my chin.

He stepped forward, still looking angry. He held my chin between his index finger and thumb, his thumb in my saliva. He leaned in and whispered in my ear...

‘You’re safe, I’m role playing. Don’t break character’.

I nodded wordlessly, a bit, but not completely, relieved. I coughed again. The whiskey burned in my stomach. Get some water, he whispered to me, not unkindly. I went to the kitchen and drank some water and dried my chin. I was under control now. I had felt scared, but he had said the right thing to me. He had never been threatening to me before, and I was relieved now. I was still apprehensive about what he was planning, but I knew it was going to be OK. I felt better and I went back out to him.

What an experience. He used my kink for shame, he made me feel so wretched about what I had done, posting a picture of my breasts, how I had responded positively to the comments. He then even used things that he had made me do, making me feel bad for wanting to have blowjob lessons, for everything.

He called me names, bad names. Slut, whore, bimbo. And then he made me admit that I was them. Then he added adjectives to those names. Stupid, horny, drunk, and then he made me repeat them.

Being turned on by shame and being ashamed of what turns you on is a powerful feedback loop.

He fucked me from behind as I was bent over the table (he likes that), my teeny skirt around my waist, my panties around one of my ankles. Still wearing the heels, but not supporting myself on my feet, my knees bent and my toes on the ground as I rested on my belly, forearms and elbows. My laptop was in front of me, a bluetooth mouse was in one hand, I was reading comments, questions and DMs that I had gotten here. So many DMs. I felt so hot. And that made me feel ashamed. And that made me feel hotter.

Occasionally after I had finished reading someone’s comment, say the text of a DM with a dick pic, he would ask me, how it makes me feel, to know that I had allowed complete strangers to see my breasts. Does it make me feel good, he would ask, does it actually turn you on, he would say before I had a chance to answer the previous question.

Yes, I would say, it does turn me on. Why, he would ask, and I would have to say I was a bimbo or a slut and he would ask what kind of slut, and I would have to say a stupid slut, or a horny bimbo.

After the first time I came, he slowed right down and repeated those questions, but about why I came, rather than about some text someone had sent me. He would ask me why I was still sopping wet, why I was still horny, and I would have to answer again.

After my second orgasm, he came.

He told me to shut the laptop and to rest my head on the table. We both caught our breath for a moment. He moved one of his hands from my hip and stroked my hair. He was still in me, but was getting softer. After a minute, I don’t know how long, he removed himself and knelt down and took of my shoes and then carried me to the couch. He got some blankets from the bedroom and some tea for me and a beer for him from the kitchen.

He held me tight and stroked my hair and told me he loved me. He told me that he would never ever want to do me harm, that he would never hurt me. He told me that we never have to do that again if I don’t want to.

I said we could do it again, occassionally.

He asked me if I found enjoyment in it. He ordered me to be honest. (I like that he has never given me a general order always to be honest. It makes me trust him more, that he chooses to trust me).

I smiled at him and nodded.

He asked me if I wanted a warning in future like the one he had given me.

I said that the warning was good and smiled, and he kissed me.

He asked me if it was good. I smiled and nodded wordlessly, first looking away, then looking at him.

And he said he thinks its kind of hot that I posted a picture of my breasts online! But then he said that maybe I shouldn’t do something new like, something slutty that I hadn’t done before, without asking him first. Particularly as I had been drunk, maybe I could have gone far too far.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang. He put on his dressing gown and went to get it. He came back with a pizza from the good pizzeria on our block. He had ordered a margherita just for me. I was so hungry.

Then I had another beer with him.

Then I showed him a few of the pointers that the coach had given me during my lesson. He didn’t say whether he liked them or not, but he didn’t need to. I love to hear him make those noises!

* * *

We were watching porn just now. A threesome, two girls and a guy. My owner said we should consider a threesome soon. The thought had never crossed my mind before. I know they are a thing that exists but had never imagined that they could ever be a part of my world, had never considered that the world that I existed in and the world that they existed in might have an overlap. He really took me by surprise.

The way I feel about sex right now, I think I would give anything a go once. I’m always looking for the next better orgasm!

* * *

Just back from staring at myself in the full length mirror in the bedroom. I find myself admiring my breasts more and more.

At first, from an aesthetic point of view, I wasn’t very happy. It wasn’t a natural shape and I didn’t like that. But now, even though I’m still not in love with the idea of unnatural, I can appreciate that fake shape, the firmness, the roundness, the perkiness. I love them for that. I’m thrilled to have them. I don’t think I would have posted those pictures if I was anything less than thrilled with them.

I’m so pleased that I had them done.

I’m so pleased that my owner decided that I would have them done.

I’m so pleased with their fake size and their fake shape.

I’m so pleased with my fake tits.

Tits. Not a word I use often. I do use it sometimes, when I am using language to have fun with other people who I trust, and who would get the joke. But it is certainly not my standard word. Breasts is what I say. Breasts is a good word. I like it. It is right. But when I find myself admiring my breasts, it is fun to sometimes think of the word tits. Feels so dirty and exciting.

I wonder if I should get some glamour shots done? I won’t be young forever. It would be nice to have a record of this.

Funny how I’m sharing more and more today. I certainly broke a barrier last night. This is quite tame by comparison! ;)

* * *

My owner and I have been having fun googling ‘better female orgasms’ and ‘better male orgasms’! Have any girls out there (I know some of you are female) tried a butt plug? What’s it like? Worth a go?

How’s that for tame? :D

* * *

My owner wanted to watch an American football game this evening. (I know you guys just say football, but I need to distinguish it from the other football, sorry!) He’s not big on sports, but occasionally he watches something. And for his half time meal he decided he wanted sushi. It’s weird how I reacted. Even though there was of course a bit of apprehension, I was immediately excited, a bit giddy even. What would I have to wear? What would he order me to do this time?

He went into the bedroom and came back with a black thong, and two inch black pumps. That’s your outfit, he said. My jaw dropped. Before I could say anything he asked me, who decided to show off their boobs on the Internet? I did, I said. Tits, I was thinking for some reason, not boobs, say tits! (Obviously, dear owner of mine, you haven’t read all of this weekend’s posts yet, hmmm?)

Who decided to show their boobs to strangers? I did. Are you the kind of girl who shows her boobs to people you don’t know. Yes. To say no would have been demonstrably false. I was looking down at the ground now, sitting on the couch as he stood above me with the thong and shoes, shame-kinking me. Not kink-shaming, but shame-kinking, that’s what I have!

He didn’t say anything in response and I looked slowly back up. He smiled at me. You’re beautiful, he said! I couldn’t help but smile. He put the thong in the same hand as the shoes and held his free hand out to me. I took it and he stood me up. I wrapped my arms around him. We kissed for a bit.

He pulled away. What kind of girl are you? A girl who shows my boobs to strangers. What kind of girl does that? A slut, I smiled. What kind of slut? A horny slut, we both laughed. Whose horny slut. Your horny fucking slut. We made out again.

You can put your uniform on now, he said. Don’t be afraid to give them a shake, he added with a wink. Shit, there it was. That little bit extra.

Will you record it, I asked, my arms still around him. Make a video? I want to watch it back again. I’ll do a much better job if I know I can see a video of myself being a slut.

He raised one eyebrow, Dwayne Johnson-esque, and then did the Robert De Niro nodding-head-in-impressed-acknowledgement face.

This time was the first time that the delivery guy was someone who had been before. As I opened the door, he looked like he had already being expecting something good, but then got something even better.

And you know what? I did give them a shake.

But he was apprehensive. The sound of the football game coming from the sitting room added an unusual dimension. He looked over my shoulder more than once, worried that someone would come into the kitchen. Was it possible to communicate to him that he shouldn’t worry, without actually saying that?

Very nice, he said, looking down quickly, nervous, but appreciative. I smiled widely at the compliment, recognising also the opportunity he had given me.

‘See’, I shouted back through the kitchen to the sitting room with the TV noises, ‘I told you he’d think they’re nice’.

‘Yeah, fine’, came a loud—seemingly uninterested and non-committal—answer from the sitting room.

He laughed, now more at ease, as I gave him the cash. I gave another shake for him, and he gave me a thumbs up, really cool, he said. I could not have smiled more widely as I closed the door, waving with the fingers of my free hand as I did so, already thinking about watching the video.