The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

❧ August 15th. Sunday.

It wasn’t the most conventional proposal in the history of romance. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t even something he’d given serious thought to 24 hours earlier. It wasn’t the classic four little words. It wasn’t even three little words, just two. He said them the day after my 18th birthday party, while we were standing knee deep in the floral border at my dad’s house, my childhood home. But when he said those words, two words as sweet and romantic as anything a famous poet has ever produced, I knew I wanted them to last forever. And somehow I knew he wanted that too. So afterwards we decided that was a proposal, an anniversary none of us would be able to forget.

The words were whispered with a clarity of intent that left me weak at the knees. If I remember correctly, which was a lot more common back then, I grabbed his shirt and dragged him to the ground, and we fucked for the third time – the third time in 24 hours – in the middle of the dwarf wisteria. His words always have quite a profound effect on me, but those two words are among the strongest to date.

The words? “You’re mine.”

It was certainly more romantic than I deserved. My life had been heading for a train wreck since I was thirteen or fourteen. I’d seen it coming, and rushed headlong towards disaster. I’d been a complete slut. I don’t even know what got me started so young, but now I think I’ll always be grateful for the one act of extreme depravity that stopped me dead in my tracks. Back then I wanted so badly to be seen and respected as an adult, and I thought the way to do that was to sleep with everyone and do everything that the responsible people, my parents and teachers, said I wasn’t ready for. I wanted bondage, handcuffs, blindfolds. I wanted threesomes, spit-roasts, and glory holes. I wanted whips, branding, and viciously seductive knives. I wanted dehumanisation, objectification, and to be owned.

Hypnosis was one more stop on the train ride to hell. Giving up control over my body completely, it was so much more intense than the bondage and sado-masochistic games I’d already played. I joined a few erotic hypnosis chat rooms online, and found a whole selection of potential masters to play with. I had to pick carefully, though, because I knew it might not be so easy to change my mind. I needed someone local enough to fuck me once I couldn’t say no, and dirty enough to push me past my limits in every way. When I saw a profile picture I actually recognised, I thought my dreams had come true.

I quickly sent an email to Doctor Darkside, otherwise known as my dad’s good friend Jim Bicksteen. I knew he was nearly double my age, but I’d always had a bit of a thing for older guys. I also knew he couldn’t turn me down without getting his secret identity revealed to the local PTA, and that exposure would hurt him much more than me. He’d take away my free will and have his way with me, whether he wanted to or not. So he hypnotised me, and I didn’t have the choice any more. It was what I thought I wanted. But you can’t always get what you want, and Jim thought he could give me what I need instead. He made me abandon my self-destructive slide into a life of hedonism. His first irresistible commands were to work hard at school, quit smoking, and respect my parents’ advice.

It was the last thing I expected, and I certainly wouldn’t have thought that was something I would enjoy. But it made people take me seriously, in a way my previous antics hadn’t. And by stopping with the casual sex, I started to actually realise why the act had so much value to so many people. Eventually my 16th birthday came around. The law and the restrictions he’d put in my mind would allow me to fuck again, but I didn’t want to. I only wanted Jim, I wanted to be his toy and his slave. He said that for something that extreme I’d have to wait until I was 18, because that kind of fetish stuff required a little more responsibility. I didn’t understand why, but if he needed me to prove I was mature enough, I was willing to wait a couple more years.

I’d changed. Without realising, I’d managed to grow up. I still wanted to screw around and experience all kinds of kinky games; but now at least I realised that it was trust, and the people you want to be with, that make the feelings of submission so intense. I could value who I was with, not just the things that we could do. And I knew it was Jim that I wanted to be with. I liked to fantasize that he’d put those feelings in my mind without me even knowing; that he lusted after me and decided to take what he wanted. But I knew that for real, it was the thrill of finding someone who understands what I want, and who also wants to keep me safe, that provided the foundation for love to grow.

He was reluctant, but eventually he gave in. He hypnotised me again, and set a dozen interesting suggestions in my mind. With just a word, he could make me horny, make me forget whatever he chose, make me strip, or compel me to obey any order. Though, always the perfect gentleman, he insisted that he wouldn’t use any of these magic words until I was 18, and then I’d have to tell him I was ready without any hesitation.

It would have been perfect, if I hadn’t felt the urge to satisfy certain urges somewhere else. I knew at the time it was a bad idea, but sometimes we all do stupid things. I’d got to know a hot girl who reminded me of myself in some way. She was older than me; just about everyone I’ve been attracted to has been. She was eccentric and different, cycling through all kinds of crazy punk fashions every couple of months. When I first met her, she was dressed in torn denim and leathers. When we finally got together, the order of the day was exquisitely ornate, vintage clothing styles replicated in PVC. She was so excited when she showed off each item she’d made, and her enthusiasm was kind of infectious. We ended up doing a kind of private fashion show, and after a couple of drinks I started to wonder if it was the excitement of being able to show off her creations that was giving her that joyful glow; or if she might actually be attracted to me.

She asked me to help her zip up a particularly fetching leather gown, but I slipped and pulled the zipper down instead. When I reached round to cup her breasts, maybe she was just tipsy enough to let her inhibitions down and just enjoy it without thinking too much. She’d never been with a girl before, nor a guy for that matter. The brash, outgoing girl who’d been there and done that was a virgin. It was sweet really, turns out we all have our secrets. I fell for her quickly, though it took me a long time to realise it wasn’t just sex. Alexandria was the second person I had real feelings for, I think, and within a month I couldn’t bear to think of losing her.

When it came to that party for my 18th, my dad expected there’d be some drinking. It might even be a little wild, but he was willing to accept that given the level of responsibility I’d been showing lately. He still knew I’d been looking for sex a few years ago, though, and said he didn’t want me bringing guys round. Maybe he was worried that my maturity was just for show; because he asked his good friend Jim to chaperone me while he went off to work an extra shift. He didn’t realise the feelings I’d had for Jim I guess, but that left me with a tough choice. My Master, the man who could make me feel whatever he wanted, who could make me feel so helpless, was ready to take me now just as soon as I said I was sure. But at the same time, Alex and I were so close that I couldn’t ever tell her she was second best. I had hoped it would be some fun with a friend, passing the time until I could give myself to Master, but now it was a decision I couldn’t possibly make.

I was lucky, at that party. Alex finally understood what the Master/slave thing meant to me, and got curious enough that she wanted to try it too. She hadn’t read as many stories, or watched as many videos, as I had before diving in, though. She didn’t know which role excited her more. So she said that she’d do the one thing that would satisfy her curiosity, and bring me the greatest happiness too: she’d learn to be my mistress, enjoying the thrill of control, while dipping a toe into helplessness as Jim’s slave. It was amazing; I’d never read anything that said a relationship could work like that, but it felt perfect.

I discarded my reservations so quickly, I couldn’t ever have believed it. Just the day after my birthday, the instant he said the magic words to activate my most powerful post-hypnotic suggestion, “You’re mine,” I knew I belonged to my Master. I couldn’t resist him in that moment; I knew that I had to make love to him right then and there. At the same time I knew that me, and him, and Alex; I knew the three of us had a love meant to stand the test of time.

❧ September 24th. Friday.

Weeks later. It was kind of weird. Every day, I woke up knowing that I’m an adult now, that I’ve changed. That I’m in love, and it’s going to last forever. I’d thought I was an adult before, and I’d been with an awful lot of awful guys to prove it. I should have waited for Jim all along, but I guess that I hadn’t been mature enough to see that.

For most of my high school life, I’d been looking forward to university: a time and place where I could fuck as many different college guys as I wanted without needing to sneak out of the house. Dad would never have allowed it, and came up with all kinds of reasons I should go somewhere close to home, and I wouldn’t have to move away. I thought of getting a place at some prestigious school, but that would have required much higher grades than I thought I was capable of. But then Jim changed my mind, and I was amazed how much better I scored on tests after I actually started working hard at school. Maybe I could live my dream, and live far beyond dad’s reach.

Or maybe I could just go to the Harmon Institute of Technology, and move across town. Dad could come and see me whenever he wanted, I’d have no trouble getting accepted, but I’d be far enough from home that I could live on my own and wouldn’t have to hide my relationship with my beloved Master and Mistress. I was just thinking about this when dad stumbled on a perfect opportunity for me, a serendipitous coincidence. Well, it came about by chance in his mind, anyway.

Jim had said he was going to take a break from work, because he was feeling too stressed. He planned to branch out and do something creative; buy a somewhat dilapidated house, and renovate it over the course of a year or two while he lived there, before moving onwards and upwards to something larger, or in a better location. Dad knew he was looking at properties the South Harmon area, and during a heavy Scotch-drinking spree the two of them came up with the idea that by renting out rooms to students, he could afford a much bigger place than he would otherwise, and so make a much larger return on his investment. It was a great idea; the only thing dad didn’t mention when he proposed it to me was his idea of Jim checking up on me, and making sure I didn’t bring back any boys he’d disapprove of. Great idea, dad!

It wasn’t hard to find other students willing to move in. Kiva King’s house was close enough to campus that she’d lived with her parents for her first two years. But the freedoms she’d so enjoyed being granted turned into an annoyance when it was her little brother bringing his girlfriend over at every opportunity. She didn’t want to know, and was looking for somewhere else. I was a friend already; one of the side effects of trying to hook up with college guys is that you end up knowing a lot of college girls too. Her best friend Britney had spent three years in a sorority house, and now was looking for somewhere she could share with her boyfriend, Marten. The final housemate, Jules, was a mystery. I suspected we’d get to know each other sooner or later, though, and I felt reassured that there would be at least two older guys in the house who I could trust to look out for me if there was any tension.

Me and Alex would be sharing a suite in the attic space, with two rooms and its own tiny bathroom. Dad accepted my reassurances that we were best friends. We were going to live together, study together, and watch out for each other. I suspect he at least guessed the truth of our relationship, but was open minded enough not to mind and supportive enough to acknowledge my choices even if I didn’t have the courage to come out of the closet just yet.

Eventually, the big day came. Dad drove us down to my new home, though Jim was happy to help transport all my stuff. Alex was in Jim’s car today, and I didn’t worry if his hands would be wandering on the drive up. Dad’s car was large enough that my half-sister, Hannelore, came too. "Look at this, Han, this is the kind of awesome place you can live if you actually study hard for the next three years; there was always something to find if you read between the lines, but I think that was a message I could approve of.

The house was everything Jim had described and more: a mock-colonial edifice that looked almost too large for just 7 people. The garden was a little crowded, as the designer had felt it necessary to cram in a driveway, a small lawn, some topiary and a miniature fountain. A mansion house should have all those things, but there wasn’t really room for the whole set when the house stood less than twenty feet back from the road. The gates were simple designs in wrought iron, nearly twice my height. They had climbing plants growing over and through them, binding them against the fence even if the hinges hadn’t rusted long ago. The driveway was a sandy coloured gravel, and just about large enough for three cars to park in a little arc along the frontage of the house. I could smell crushed mint leaves as we drove over the herbs that had escaped their bed and now speckled haphazardly across the drive. The exterior of the house was partly wood, and partly some kind of masonry designed to give the impression of wood. Before the paint had started to peel, I suspect the mixture of materials would have been a lot less obvious.

As we gathered on a circular stone dais in front of the main door, surrounded by pillars that supported the balcony above, I suddenly felt all the nervousness I hadn’t had time to notice through the chaos of packing and planning. This was my first real step away from my family. Not striking out alone, whatever Dad and Hannelore might think, but as close as I’d ever come. I knew that whatever happened now, I wouldn’t be coming home again until the new year.

Jim fished around in his pocket for the keys, and I finally had second thoughts. Alex must have sensed my discomfort, because her hand was suddenly a reassuring weight in mine. The worries were soothed away as quickly as they’d come, and I gave her ass a playful squeeze in acknowledgement before bringing our hands back together. I knew then that we were facing our future together, and that was an adventure that held no fear for me.

Bring it on.