The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Second Hand Heart

Tags: ds mc mf (later chapters will add ma md mm)

Synopsis: Blake’s always been a player, he doesn’t believe in love. But between a cute girl who could be his best friend, and an internet hypnotist who promises to use and discard him, he discovers he’s on an emotional roller coaster ride that’s not going to stop until someone gets hurt.

I don’t think I ever intended to find the love of my life. The first time I told a girl I’d love her forever was Julie Munro, a petite redhead with legs right up to here and a surprisingly large rack once I got her out of the shapeless granny-knit sweater. Maybe I wasn’t sure at the time if I really meant the “forever” part, but I swear, I genuinely and from the bottom of my heart wanted to get into her pants that night.

But that was all behind me now. It had been a couple of years since I dropped out, forever by the standards of my relationships. I’d got bored of the endless cycle of fuck and forget, and maybe I wanted to find something a little more exciting. I don’t mean serious romance, or lifetime love and devotion. At least, that’s not what I thought I was after. I tried getting a little more extreme, started out with a little bondage and spanking, and that filled the gap in my life for a while. But the more I tried, the more I found it was just more of the same in a fancy wrapper.

After a while, porn wasn’t doing the trick any more. It was all just the same, just acting. I mean, the girls are hot, but somehow that’s not enough. I want to think they’re really into it, or something. That’s kinda the hardest part, chasing after something you don’t know how to explain. The closest I came was some site on the internets, Master Dominic’s Lair or something. I came there from someone who said it’s really edgy, and then its just the same old stuff, some bitch in leather flogging and fucking. But while the guy in the video was getting his rocks off, I was actually bored enough to read a bit of a story somebody had posted, that was up in the sidebar.

I know, right, bored with porn, there must be something wrong with me. But this story wasn’t just the usual thing, it was really good. Like, as soon as you read it, you can imagine exactly what the guy in the story’s going through. How scared he is, how much he wants to satisfy his Mistress, like he doesn’t even care if he gets off or not as long as she’s happy. It doesn’t make sense, but when I was reading it, its like I could see how he feels. Somehow, it’s like those things, being vulnerable and the way he felt about her, mattered more than how the girl acted. I clicked through and read the rest of it, and I hardly noticed the overpaid actress in the other window moaning her way to the end of the scene.

Then a couple of weeks later, I met Clara. I didn’t think anything at the time, never even crossed my mind that here’s the girl I was going to marry. She was kind of cute, but nothing special. Came into the shop to get a refund, and we chatted a few minutes. Not about anything serious, you know, just passing time, or killing time to put off the moment I’d have to go into the back to clean out the machine. I had a dozen cute lines to get a girl’s number, but I never even thought to inject one into the conversation, we were chatting like friends.

I wasn’t thinking about her on the drive home. I wasn’t picturing her in my mind when I sat in front of the TV to enjoy my salsa and a couple of cans of beer. Hell, I probably didn’t even remember her name by the time I got home. I had much more exciting things to get my engine running; like giving up my free will and allowing a virtual stranger to change my life. In a few weeks, I’d gone from stories of absolute control to the real thing: Hypnosis, and you don’t even need a pocket watch in the real world.

I’d found a site where a powerfully Dominatrix can make you into her obedient slave by watching Her videos, and listening to a recording of Her powerful and commanding voice while watching a spiral thing spin on your screen. That gets me so hard, just thinking how she could make me do anything and I couldn’t resist at all. But then, it sounds like she’s going to just make you addicted to buying more and more videos, some of them cost like $200, and that just sounds cheap. I can’t respect a hooker no matter how tough she is, so most nights I was just cracking one off reading about what she’d done to the other saps in her guest book. But I knew they’d get boring after a while, always the same story. Real guys feeling helpless were better than actors on screen, but if they’re just watching the same vids, it wouldn’t be long before I got bored with the repetition.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one who felt like that. There were comments, a couple of them quite scathing, from a dom who went by the name of Metamorpheus. I wondered if she was hot, but she didn’t have a picture so I guessed not. Probably some kind of frumpy librarian type, though that can be pretty cute in some ways. But then, it was the words I was interested in. She said there’s nothing like being in control, being able to make someone follow your will. The things she said and the stories she’d told just captured my imagination. The last few days, I couldn’t wait to get home and see what else she had posted online, or even if she might have responded to my compliments.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll end up My slave?” my heart pounded as soon as I read the words, “You know that I could make you do whatever I want if you pay Me too much attention.” I found I was nodding eagerly, even at the merest hint She might consider making me the star of one of Her stories. I quickly typed a reply, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about what She could do to me, or what She might make me do to myself. Even thinking that She would post on her blog afterwards, that should have been humiliating, but now the possibility just made me harder. In ten minutes I was beating off like an undersexed schoolboy, running through one scenario after another in my mind, thinking about the most extreme things she could make me do and how amazing it would feel to find myself unable to resist doing Her bidding.

The next day, I couldn’t keep my mind on work. Those stories had blown my mind, and I couldn’t get over the thought that I might actually get to be in one. It didn’t matter that it was a long shot, that all she’d done is reply to one email from a horny fanboy. However unlikely, the chance was there. I spent most of the day in the back of the shop cleaning, as much as I preferred to be out on the counter, because I didn’t want to show customers the raging hard-on that came back every time I thought about what would be waiting in my inbox when I got home. I tried to find a moment to nip out and take care of it myself, but that wasn’t an option with both managers on site today.

By the time I got home, I was desperate for a quick fuck. Maybe I’d head down to the Carleton later, or cruise the clubs and find some clueless teenager desperate to be taken seriously. A couple of drinks, are you okay dear, need a lift home, a quick roll in the back of the truck, just what the doctor ordered. But first, I needed to check my email.

It was there … an email from Mistress Metamorpheus. Until I read it, I would have thought there was no way I could get any more excited. It took me more than an hour to finish, as I went back to read my favourite words again and again, savouring the words that were somehow hotter than any schoolgirl lesbian vid I’d ever seen. I abandoned any thoughts of going out tonight, and decided to take an early night.

I lay back in bed, wondering what I’d gotten myself into as I looked down at the tent in the covers. I imagined Mistress’s voice in my ear, repeating the words I’d read earlier. “I’ll just do what interests me,” she purred, a faint trace of some Celtic accent making her voice exotic and alluring, “I’ll make you want to please me, until you’ll do whatever I ask even if it goes against your own ideas. It won’t be anything you’ve seen before, anything you’ve read about, because to me every slave is unique. I can guarantee you’ll give up more than you ever thought possible, and you’ll come to love the suppression of your own ego.” I was going at it two handed under the covers by that point, trying to imagine the things she described even as my own throbbing desire kept pulling my attention back to the present.

“Is that what you want?” she whispered, coming so close I could feel her breath on my ear now, and I gasped an answer without even thinking. I was so horny I couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but chase the imminent climax.

“That’s your last chance to turn away,” she added, and one pale, slim hand grabbed my wrist with pressure just on the edge of pain, “And you didn’t take it. You’re going to enjoy yourself so much for me, I know,” I turned to meet her gaze, struggling to return the hand to my eager cock as she continued, “You’re going to please yourself for me, every day and every night, and get yourself hornier than you’ve ever felt in your life. But now you’re my toy, you’re not going to cum without My permission.” Her deep green eyes sparkled with delight as she delivered this demand. A couple of weeks ago I would have laughed at something like that, but now there was a strange appeal in knowing it was Her will that was denying me, another sign of her control.

She slid into the bed alongside me, and I felt warm flesh pressing close. Could it really be this easy to get with the dominating, red-headed girl of my dreams? I couldn’t believe in, but she was right there, teasing the tip of my dick with silver-painted nails. I felt my balls tighten, and knew I was going to blow my load any second, but if it was Her demand I had to try to hold back.

Lips danged delicately across my forehead, treating me to a close up view of her freckles. But she still wanted to talk a little before we got down to business. “Have you ever been with a girl before you didn’t just want to screw and forget before?”

I shook my head, but felt the need to try to impress her. “Hey,” I answered, “I was just chatting with a girl the other day and I didn’t think about anything except just talking.” I thought maybe I should see Clara again, a witness that I had more than a one track mind, but somehow I’d not thought to get her number. Oh well, can’t win them all.

“Was she as attractive as me?” The kind of questions they always ask, where there’s never going to be a right answer. But I’d come across this one before, and didn’t hesitate.

“I didn’t think about it,” the words came out smoothly, without even thinking about it. “If a chick acts like one of the guys, then I’m thinking about what she says, not the size of her tits.” I couldn’t draw my gaze away from Her rack, though, almost touching my chest as I spoke. She was perfect in every detail, and nobody could avoid noticing her tits coming closer with every deep, passionate breath.

She didn’t ask any more questions, just lowered her body towards mine, one hand effortlessly pinning my hands above my head. First I felt Her hard nipples brush my skin, and I gasped with desire. Any other girl and I would have jumped her already, but with Mistress, She had the strength to make me wait. Teasing was such exquisite torture, and I knew I’d love it however long she kept the game going. Then I felt her press closer, pinning me down, hot skin against my dick. I didn’t think, thrust upwards on instinct, but found I couldn’t move an inch.

“Oh no,” she grinned, pressing her crotch against mine so tightly but not letting me in, “You don’t get to fuck me yet.” I grunted something that might have been begging if I’d been able to form words, but I didn’t care. Her body was so close, I could smell her hair, I could feel her weight holding me down, so hot and so close. Her touch was so intense, my cock didn’t care if I was going to cum inside her or not. I gasped in one more breath and felt my whole body twitch, then —

“NO!” the exotic voice was suddenly harsh, like the snap of a steel trap, “You may not orgasm tonight.” And I couldn’t, as impossible as it sounds, I was lying there with all my feeling concentrated in my cock, and I couldn’t cum. I couldn’t believe it, she must have hypnotised me already and I didn’t even remember. I could feel every muscle struggling to fire, my cock twitching like a puppet trapped between our bodies, and I couldn’t cum.

“Please,” I finally managed to gasp, after what felt like an hour, “Please! I’ll do anything!”

“I know you will,” she purred, exciting me more even as she started to pull away, “But you can’t have me yet. I’m not even here, am I?” And as I remembered that I was just dreaming, the fantasy faded away; my desperation for release and begging for her to be real dissolved into a black, dreamless oblivion.