The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What I Need...

Diana strolled across the mall, husband Frank in tow. He was carrying in his hands the products of her latest shopping spree, bags full of expensive clothes and shoes she would most likely never use more than once, if at all. It didn’t matter though; they would still look good in her walk-in closet and photo-ops mattered more than the consequences of maxing out credit cards. She was happy, but could be happier, still.

“Honey,” she stopped to glance at him. “I just realized something. I seriously need a new purse—or ten!—to go with those shoes. You’ll see to it, right?”

Frank, who was usually a kind-hearted and mild-mannered person even when he felt insulted, dropped the bags on the fake marble floor, cocked his head in disbelief and replied:

“Is that a joke?”

“Why would it be?” Diana retorted as if he had just insulted her in the worst way imaginable.

“Look at all this shit!” He gesticulated, furiously. “And besides, don’t you have hundreds of purses already?”

“I do, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not listening to me, Frank! I said I need it and what I need...”

“... you always get.” He muttered automatically, the fruits of a long-term conditioning blooming once again inside his mind. “Yes, dear. Of course.”

“Mistress.” She corrected him, a dark fire burning in her beautiful blue eyes. “You’re going to pay for your insolence, Frank! Oh yes, you will!”

Later that day, she met her sister Natalie for lunch at their favorite Greek restaurant. Despite being the youngest of the two, Diana looked far from it, courtesy of a handful of cosmetic surgeries that had tried to perfect what really didn’t it. Of all the adjustments, the nose job stood out the most, a small pink beak in an otherwise uniform visage. It was quite distracting and often the subject of overused jokes, none of which the big spender was willing to endure.

“Not today, okay?” She said, dismissively.

“What happened?” Natalie queried, menu in hand.


“Care to be more specific?”

“Frank questioned me. Again! It’s the third time this month, Nat! I thought your hypnotic training was fool-proof!”

“It is.” Natalie laid down the menu and looked her sister straight in the eyes.

“Then how do you explain his constant refusals to give me what I want? Having to trigger him all the time is annoying!”

“Have you stopped to consider that the training isn’t the problem but rather the one using it?”

“So you’re saying his disrespectful attitude is my fault?”

“I’m saying I’ve been doing this for about ten years now and no one has had any problems with my conditioning techniques except you. Not all people are tailored to be dominant, dear. It’s possible you’re one of them.”

“That’s absurd!” Diana grumbled.

“Is it? We both know you can be quite demanding, but what do you give him in return when he serves you the way you want to be served?”

“Nothing! Pleasing me should be gift enough. What I need, comes to be. What I say, goes!”

Natalie shook her head at her seemingly impossible naiveté. “Even the most well-trained horses need a carrot every now and then. You would do well to remember that.”

“He doesn’t need carrots. He just needs to obey. What do I do to ensure that?”

“I already told you how I think you should act. Take a step back, let him breathe instead of constantly nagging him. It will only make the conditioning stronger in the end.”

“Yeah, not buying it! I’m not the problem, the training is. Not cool of you to teach me something you know it’s flawed and then blaming me for not working. You need to do better than that, Nat!”

“And I need you to shut up right now.”


“Diana, I need you to shut up and what I need...”

“... you always get.” The baby sister replied before committing herself to silence, unable to resist.

“Much better.” Natalie remarked as she perused through the list of meat delicacies she loved more than anything in the world. There was nothing wrong with her training and there never would be. Diana just needed a reminder of that, and she had the perfect proof in mind.

Before the lunch was over, she decided she needed her kneeling under the table, tongue eager for a refreshment.