The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I Must Obey My Mistress

Jonathan got up from bed and walked to the bathroom, a single idea in his mind.

I must obey my Mistress.

It hadn’t always been there, but it almost felt like it, a solitary fixation point to keep him focused on everything else that was to come. If he drifted towards undesirable thought patterns like feelings of insecurity or self-loathing, all he needed to do was take a deep breath, close his eyes, and let the overpowering five words reset his mood.

I must obey my Mistress.

Complying was easy when he knew in advance what he had to do. Direct orders from her lips were beyond any threshold of resistance but, most of the times, his owner liked to play differently, leaving breadcrumbs inside breadcrumbs, tiny morsels of tantalizing delicacies he was to savor when the moment was right. It could happen at any moment and when he least expected, and that was incredibly arousing. He trusted her completely.

I must obey my Mistress.

Jonathan confronted the mirror and it stared back at him with half-vitreous eyes. Not that he could see them. He never knew when he was in trance, responding to an indirect suggestion or simply falling deeper by the sheer act of imagining doing so. Anticipation had a special place in his heart and cock.

I must obey my Mistress.

Recently turned forty, his life had made little sense until the first time he heard her voice. The sweet rasp she added to every consonant was infectious, and all possibilities made sense when she was the one bringing them up. That included simple things like sending her a picture of a white rose every Monday morning or being unable to read whatever she wrote between square brackets [What a good boy you are for me]. There were dozens of examples of her subtle yet completely ravishing control over his life, but he could never remember them all. The most important thing was:

I must obey my Mistress.

After taking a quick shower and glancing at the work clothes patiently waiting by the hanger atop his bedroom door, Jonathan approached his silver laptop, turned the camera on, and stroked. A flashing green light meant he was being quietly observed from a distance and green always meant ‘go’. Vigorous strokes dictated his need to surrender and yet the pleasure was short-lived, the sweat on his fingertips coming to a halt the moment she cooed:

“That’s enough, pet. Your balls are already nice and full, and we don’t want any accidents to happen, do we? Go about your business, frustrated, but with a smile on your lips. If you’re lucky, we can do this again tomorrow. If you’re not, you must wait until I find convenient to use you again. Regardless or your fate, you know what I expect of you, and that is total devotion. What must you do even if you don’t know why or when?”

“I must obey my Mistress.” Jonathan drooled, the red light shining before him, telling him hypnotic playtime was over. He stood up, the part of him that made him a man shooting upwards like a bloodthirsty harpoon. The throbbing erection would take a long time to subdue, more than he would ever be aware of.

Still glassy-eyed, he reached for his outfit, got dressed, and walked out the door, immediately hearing a faint giggle from his next-door neighbor.

“Good morning, Allie. I’m also happy to see you.” He droned.

“You sure look like it...” She laughed in return.

It wouldn’t be the last laugh he would hear that day, but it mattered not for he was indifferent to anything other than the simple sentence that totally controlled the world he knew.

I must obey my Mistress., he thought.

And so must you.