The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

If you’re finding the descriptions of the house a little hard to follow, you might like to take a look at an (incomplete) floor plan: http://imgur.com/a/Fn5dE

Olivia’s House

6 — A Pet, and Waking Up

❧ September 26th. Sunday.

I woke feeling so refreshed. It was my second morning in a home of my own, and there was still a little nervous smile just from the feeling of novelty. The bigger swell of happiness, a warm rush through my body, was looking over my lover, Alexandria, lying peacefully beside me. With college, and moving home, and being engaged, there were so many major changes in my life lately. But I had no hesitation picking what was the most important, or who: Alex my lover, and Jim, my fiancé, formed a love triangle that would hopefully endure as long as we all lived.

Today, my objective was to speak to Jim. I could have dashed downstairs, as I suspected he’d be the first to awake. Britney had started moving in last night, but it had been after 2 that her partner Marten arrived, so it was unlikely that they would be up at this time. The first rays of sun through the window were just starting to splash golden colour across the stack of cardboard boxes still waiting to be unpacked.

Painting Alex’s face gold, too, the streamers of light enhancing her beauty. I couldn’t leave the room yet, while she was looking so desirable. I gently brushed her fringe aside with the back of my hand; it was a little chaotic before the daily application of gel to sweep all the spikes to one side. Her skin was pale bronze now, the deep summer tan slowly fading though probably nobody else paid enough attention to see the difference.

“Alex, hun?” I whispered, but she didn’t respond. “Good morning, pet,” I tried again, whispering a little closer, so my lips almost touched her face. Still she gave no sign of having heard me. She looked so peaceful there, smiling broadly. I sighed, thinking I should let her rest after all. But my breath on her neck was enough to draw a reaction, her delicate lips parting for a gentle moan. I wondered what she was dreaming of, while her expression made me hope it was me.

No way could I resist that invitation. My hand floated down her cheek and jawline, touching only as firmly as a feather, then slipped beneath the covers. With one thumb I caressed her nipple through the soft cotton of a much-worn Dark Gate tshirt. Alex didn’t share my preference for soft silk nightwear, and stuck to the over-large tees that plummeted in price once everything else was sold at a convention.

She arched her back, trying to bring my gentle touch closer even though she was still asleep, and rolled lazily onto her back. I took the invitation, my other hand lifting a loose fold of material and cupping her breast gently under her shirt. I moved slowly, teasing and stroking, until I could see she was as wet as me. Still, I made lazy circles around her breast with my fingertips, only occasionally darting closer to tease and tweak her hard nipples. I was on my knees now, leaning over her, so it was easy for my lips yo replace one set of fingers.

A gently suck, a little bite. I felt sure it would be a wonderful way to wake, but Alex moaned and spread her legs wider on instinct while her eyes remained closed. My free hand reached for her pussy, but the feel of her single, long braid lying on the bed gave me a better idea. I gently freed the rope of hair from the rucked up sheets, carefully dividing my attention so as not to decrease the stimulation to her breasts. The moans every time I brought my teeth into play told me that she was already getting pretty desperate, and I was amazed she hadn’t woken up yet.

Her hair was tightly braided like a rope, maybe as thick as my thumb, but the last inch below the ribbon somehow seemed to accumulate all the frizziness that she otherwise avoided, like an enigmatic dandelion clock. I traced it across her stomach, a gentle touch to tease, before meandering down to her hips. It was hard to judge the position of my hands while I couldn’t look down, but I could practically hear her heart racing faster as my gentle strokes began to tickle the inside of her thigh.

Less randomness, more rhythmic, I continued to stroke Alex with her own hair. It was just about long enough, and I felt her juices spreading over my fingers as I pressed harder, letting the soft hair slip between her lips to tease the clit. I didn’t know how she’d respond, but Alex had always loved new sensations, being touched with different things. I was getting wet too, just from knowing what I was doing to the girl I loved. For all the jaded image she tried to project, she was a true innocent in many ways, and nothing turned me on more than knowing I was the first to try something with her. I was dripping as I knelt over her, and I still didn’t know she was awake. By now, her eyes could be closed in rapture or in sleep, and there was no way for me to tell the difference.

Maybe there was no difference; she was experiencing the pleasure of my quickening touch, but the bliss was so intense that it overwhelmed any awareness of what I was doing. She couldn’t say a word to encourage me, to let me know how to better please her, but I could tell from her moaning and writhing that I wouldn’t need to carry on much longer. Eventually I released the strand of hair and pressed down on her most sensitive spot with my first two fingers. Somewhere in the background of my mind, I knew master’s words were still making me feel every touch I gave her, and if I didn’t get her off soon I was going to pass out from the pleasure.

Something told me she was finally awake now. Her movements were instinctive, thrusting towards me to beg for another touch, but Alex wasn’t just reacting to my movements now. As desperate as we both were, I took that as a sign that she’d had enough teasing. Two fingers again, pressing inside her. She was tight, but wet enough that I found no resistance. I crooked my fingers just a little, and started to circle her clit with my thumb. My mouth pulled away from her breast now, gasping for a little air, but I don’t think she even noticed. She moaned louder than I’d ever heard her before, and before I could even feel proud of getting her there so quickly, the pulses of imagined pressure from my own g-spot slammed into me like an express train and I came just as loudly as her.

We woke up feeling so refreshed. We were wrapped up in each other’s bodies atop a disordered pile of tangled sheets. We were both soaked in sweat, and the bedding would probably need to be washed after only one day, but we felt so free, so natural and safe. It was the first time we’d really been able to enjoy ourselves – or rather, to enjoy each other – without having to worry either about being overheard by potentially-disapproving families, or keeping one eye on the clock so we could be aware of our moments of privacy ticking away. Today was a pure rest day, in our own house, and we could stay in bed as long as we wanted to.

Earlier I’d been full of beans, ready to leap out of bed and face the day. Now I was – well, not exhausted, because that would imply a marathon more than a sprint. But content, relaxed, and satisfied with everything in my life, especially my Alexandria. I’d be happy to lie here with her all day.

“Morning, beautiful,” she purred into my ear. My head was resting on her chest, and it was a little unusual to feel her voice coming from that direction, like she was suddenly taller than me. “Shall I make the coffee?” I just mumbled incomprehensibly, and made no move to rouse myself just yet. She didn’t push me today. We’d been so much in sync this morning, it seemed entirely natural that we’d still feel the same way about any thought of activity. While I thought about summoning the energy to answer, she lazily sucked on the end of her braid like it was a lollipop. I’d seen her do that so many times before, when she’d first started growing her hair out and it used to fall in her dinner if she turned her head suddenly while eating. I thought this time it might be a little sweeter, though, and I moved a little closer to get a lick when she paused for a second; then turning the movement into a slow, gentle kiss.

“I’m sure I could find a way to get you up, if I had any inclination to move,” Alex said after what felt like a half hour. The sun had started tracking across the sky now, and was high enough to throw a golden projection of the treeline in through our window. Sooner or later, the shafts of light would be dazzling at least one of us, and then I’d regret having left the blinds open last night. It had seemed such a good idea to go to sleep watching the stars, before the full bite of the autumn chill set in.

I almost jumped out of my skin when there was a sudden knock at the door. I could hardly hear the taps over an insistent squawking noise, that I only now realised had been growing louder in the background for quite some time.

“Is that the crazy alarm clock Master got your dad?” Alex grinned, “Do we have to put up with one of those as well?”

“I don’t think it’s just ‘one of those’,” I found it pretty funny too, though I really couldn’t have explained why, “There’s only one Shibbolethtron, dad must have let it behind.” I rushed to drag an old knee-length tshirt over my head, and cast around looking for a dressing gown. Alex just stayed in bed, pulling the covers up demurely to almost-cover her perfect caramel-tone breasts. She’d always said she wanted to be a punk in the streets, and a domestic goddess around the house. I guess that means lying back, looking divine, and expecting the rest of the household to scurry around to satisfy her every whim.

That sounded like a pretty good organisational structure to me; I already worshipped her.

When I finally got the door open, I saw Kiva standing there with – as predicted – the Shibbolethtron clutched in one hand, bawling maniacally. To be honest, I was quite impressed she’d managed to catch the little critter. It was a miniature robot, moving around on eight wheels that looked like nothing more than silver golf balls spaced around the frame. At the centre, its brain looked pretty much like a conventional alarm clock, except its random movement and steadily rising cacophony of sounds and flashing lights meant that as you struggled to wake up enough to catch and disarm it, it got progressively more annoying until you’d settle with just smashing it into pieces, if you could only grab it. At dad’s house (which I suddenly realised I’d already stopped thinking of as ’home’), it had been cast into the spare room after we lost the instructions, because the thing was impossible to sleep through, but we didn’t know how to disarm it or to change the time it was set for.

“Is this yours?” Kiva held it at arms length, like a dear old lady picking up something too unpleasant for a person in her stage of life to touch, by one of its wheels. It squeaked and rocked as it spun in her grasp, trying to flee into a randomly selected dark corner. “How do you make it shut up?”

“It’s kind of like a pet,” Alex explained, “you treat it differently depending what mood it’s in. To be honest, I’m amazed they made the brain in that thing so sophisticated; it can be kind of cute once it actually shuts up, bumping against your legs and stuff while it searches for somewhere new to hide in the morning.”

“So, you stroke it in just the right way and it quiets down and acts happy?” Kiva seemed intrigued by the idea, and I wondered if we might end up turning the little automaton into a kind of allergy-free house pet after all.

I tried to ignore Alex’s half-heard whisper: “Just like Livvy,” I think she said, or words something like that. I was glad Kiva didn’t seem to hear, but then she was pretty good at not hearing things she realised we weren’t brave enough to share yet. Like my tousled hair and Alex’s obvious nudity in what was laid out as a double room. I think if I wasn’t out of the closet yet, I’d dragged my closet out into the open for everyone to see.

“Something like that,” I said, turning my thoughts back to the robotic din. It included bleeps, whistles, a simulated air horn, as well as a whole jungle of synthesised animal noises. I grabbed it by one of the struts on the external frame, making sure it couldn’t escape, then pulled my arm back to hurl it hard against the door to our en suite bathroom. It trilled reproachfully, and started to speed towards the bed as soon as it had three wheels on the ground.

“Shibby, shut up!” Alex shouted as it came towards her. Suddenly, the flashing rows of LED’s were muted, leaving only the time showing, and the chorus of sounds petered out in a couple of seconds. There was silence for a moment, which was eventually broken by an irrepressible giggle managing to overcome Alex’s self control. I wasn’t really so sure what was funny, but a moment later I couldn’t stop laughing too. I think it was just that the scene was so surreal. Dad’s alarm clock had escaped, and it had taken three college girls to get it to shut up. That kind of thing just didn’t happen in the real world, and soon we were all howling with laughter almost as loud as Shibby’s calls as we realised the absurdity of the situation.

“Something funny?” Jim’s voice easily cut through the laughter. He didn’t need to be loud, with such a commanding presence.

“I think Alex has found a pet,” Kiva explained without giving any useful detail, then wandered off back to her own room. That left the two of us giggling like schoolgirls, trying to stop long enough to explain. Jim looked at me and raised his eyebrow. He wanted to probe deeper into some question, but it took me a moment to realise where his train of thought was going.

“Not me!” I protested, and tried to hold up the Shibbolethtron in explanation. It had already slunk off under the bed or somewhere, though, and I just ended up looking around in vain. “I’m not anybody’s pet!”

“You could be,” Alex smirked at my embarrassment, “I thought you were the girl who’s done everything, anyway?”

“Well, slave, yeah maybe. You called me ‘Pet’ a few times. But actually being a pet? I know some people play like that… Doesn’t that mean walking round on all fours, and wearing a collar, eating disgusting stuff out of a bowl, being taught humiliating tricks…” my voice faded away, and from one sadistic smile and one wide-eyed grin, I knew what they were both thinking even before she said it.

“So, all kinds of things you’d love, then?” I couldn’t think of a snappy comeback to that one, so just responded with a nervous nod. What was I getting myself into this time?