The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Second Hand Heart

Chapter J

“Will you ma—”

“YES!” Clara shouted so loudly that everyone turned to look, and I almost dropped the ring as she leapt up and put her arms around my neck. She seemed to be genuinely surprised, even though this was the first time I’d taken her to a posh restaurant, and we’d gone together to pick out the ring earlier that week. I guess my skill with hypnosis was improving. A fortnight earlier, I’d only ever been a subject to another Master, and the deepest mind control experience we’d had together was reading stories, a little roleplay, and just once or twice taking advantage of the post-hypnotic suggestions that an old boyfriend had left in her mind.

* * *

Hard to believe, now, it had only been a couple of weeks earlier: After a long, dreamy day of relaxation, TV, shopping and (a couple of times) incredible sex, it was looking like the evening would be among the hottest of my life. Maybe it was an irrational feeling, but we were both incredibly excited about reading a new story. Clara came through from the kitchen, carrying two carefully arranged plates of lamb curry and rice while I sat at the computer. The website that met most of my fiction needs hadn’t been updated yet today, so I clicked on the refresh button again and again.

Taking a break, we sat down on the couch with our meals. The conversation over dinner was intelligent and stimulating, as always. We never seemed to stop discovering things we have in common. We were both over excited, though, waiting for a new story we’d been dying to read, and the topic turned back to sex again and again. Eventually, we couldn’t take the suspense any more, and I whispered in her ear “Can you guess what this story will be about?”

“A girl like me,” she blushed like a beetroot, “with no control at all over what happens to her, and loving every minute.”

“Well, maybe we don’t need to wait, then, if you know what’s going to happen.” I took a deep breath while pulling different strands of knowledge out of my subconscious, trying to recall how hypnosis usually worked in these stories, hoping to make it real. “Because you can feel that for real, can’t you. Just imagining yourself as that girl could be enough. And look, your body is already obeying my commands. Get horny for me, my little slave, find yourself getting wetter every minute, and the hornier you get, the harder it will be to say no to me.”

“Well, yeah, but it isn’t that easy to control me...” she started, and I could tell there was a part of her wishing it was.

“So you’re not getting turned on like I commanded?”

“Umm … yes, Master, but …” she didn’t finish the sentence. The plate with a quarter of her dinner she set on the floor as quickly as she could manage it, and we took a lot less care where we discarded our clothes.

* * *

Bliss.

As Clara got her breath back, I picked up the two unfinished meals, and offered to reheat them in the microwave. But on the way to the kitchen I checked the computer again, and there it was; a purple star bearing the word “NEW!!!", and today’s date. I quickly scanned the list of new content and zeroed in on one entitled Wedding Present, by Metamorpheus.

“Should I print this out?”

“Why don’t you read it to me?” she said, “If you want to, Master. Whatever you want.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” I answered, but I printed out the short story anyway, so we could sit together. I had no doubt that reading this would turn us on, so I didn’t want to be out of reach at the end of the story.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Clara squealed with delight when she saw the first page, “He’s dedicated a story to us!” And he had, too. The first page started with a dedication, using our online names caramelheart and wmblake7t5. In a way, the story was an engagement gift to us; the author, Metamorpheus (which I still think sounds more like a woman’s name), had released me from hypnotic slavery on learning that we were planning to get married. I’d thought it wise not to tell Him that we hadn’t even got a ring yet, let alone popped the question (however much we knew that was just a formality).

So I started to read. The story was quite interesting, and more romantic that the works that had first got me into the genre. It was about a ring containing some kind of super-technology which would render the wearer completely incapable of disobeying the person who put it onto their finger. Obviously, great for a wedding ring. As well as some really hot sex scenes, the story had a stage hypnotist, aliens, and a witch whose body was made of ice. An odd mix of ingredients, but it all hung together so neatly that you hardly noticed.

One thing I did notice, though, was when Clara leaned closer, her cheek resting on my arm. It was a very nice feeling to have her so close, and I was inclined to slow down my reading ever so slightly, so we could stay sitting like that a little while longer before getting onto a more exciting part. I’m not against excitement, but I want to make the most of every different feeling we can have together.

I was thinking about how good it felt to have her so close, and know that she’d always be there for me; so engrossed in the feeling that I realised I wasn’t actually listening to the words I was reading. It was only when I heard the words “slipping deeper and deeper still” come out of my lips that I realised I was reciting part of the fictional hypnotist’s performance, and that Clara might actually be slipping into trance with the words. Could that happen? The story’s dialogue certainly read like a real induction, so maybe it could.

I could have stopped as soon as I thought that, maybe I should have. But if she was so comfortable there, I didn’t want to interrupt her enjoyment. So I waited until a comfortable break in the text, before putting down the pages and continuing with my won words. “And just as Claire’s mind started to fill with the wonderful pink fog she loved so much, you can already start to feel yourself sinking into trance, too, it seems so natural just to relax and follow my words,” and I was surprised, too, by how naturally the words came out. I barely had to think about what to say, and I started to wonder if I could maybe learn hypnosis myself as I continued, “And when you wake up, you’re going to find yourself feeling so relaxed, so comfortable, so wonderfully, helplessly horny. Can you feel that sensation growing?” She nodded, not moving her head off my arm, and as I looked down I could see that her eyes were closed.

“But you will also know that when I’m reading a story, you don’t need to sink into trance unless I ask you to, unless I say your name, Clara. You can enjoy these stories, and imagine how the characters feel, without needing to experience the suggestions that the characters have set into their mind. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” another nod, so I continued, “Yes, that’s right, and as you nod in agreement, it gets easier for you to accept my suggestions. From now on, as easy as it is to imagine what the characters in our stories feel, however much that turns you on, you will only need to slip into trance and accept suggestions from Master, suggestions that are given to you by name. The hypnotic commands of characters will stay a fantasy. This is what you want, right?” She nodded again, and I felt my cock stir, excited by how easily I’d been able to gain this power I’d never imagined, “So now, let yourself start to wake up, remembering clearly what I’ve asked you to feel, and knowing that this is what you want to feel. And then, we can carry on reading that story.”

It took a few minutes before her eyes opened, and she stretched like she’d just woken up before she met my gaze and breathed, “Thank you, Master.”

I hugged her, and held her close. It seemed like a lifetime before she spoke, but I could have sat there happily for an eternity. “I didn’t know you could do that,” she said, “Hypnotise me, I mean. Have you been practising in secret?”

“No, I didn’t know I could either. But I think you started going under when Claire did, in the story,” I figured that much made sense, really. After all, both Claire’s personality and looks were based on Clara. “It doesn’t take much to add a few suggestions.”

“No, it does. Don’t sell yourself short, you were clear, commanding, calming, and your suggestions were exactly what I wanted. I’d love to do that again.”

“Me too,” I admitted, “It just comes so naturally, and it feels good to take control like that.” I glanced down at the tent in my pants, which she must surely have noticed, “I’ll have to read up on it more. But for now, let’s finish the story.” She nodded, I picked up the manuscript and began to read.

I don’t actually remember what happened in the story. There were a few things about the heroine, Claire, that reminded me of Clara in the most delightful ways. And it was hot; I remember that. But most of that evening, I just recall sitting reading with a beautiful, loving and submissive girl sitting at my side, close enough to feel her tremble with excitement or arousal at the high points of the narrative. I love those kinds of stories, but they’ll never be able to compare with really being in love.

I do remember, however, Clara’s smile as the story reached its climax. Her cheeks were bright red, her breath panting, and one hand under her skirt. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” I asked, though I know if I’d been paying more attention to the story I would have my hands full too. She gasped something in response, though I got more from her tone than from the words. “Here, let me help you with that,” I dropped the pages to the floor and let instinct take over, my lips press hungrily against hers and my hand joining her own between her thighs.

We were both turned on by the events in our story; it played exactly to both our tastes. I guess Metamorpheus meant it when he called it our wedding present. So by the time we got to touching, Clara came soon and her hands were only on my cock for a minute before her thighs and belly were covered with my love cream. The mood didn’t let us go so quickly, though, and we sat there together, talking about our fantasies and desires until I was ready to go again. I think it was her who suggested acting out our favourite scenes from the story, and although I’d been watching her responses rather than paying attention to the words, it seemed to come naturally and easily. I can’t even remember how many times we both got off that night, until it seemed my balls were empty but still felt incredible.

“So, Master,” Clara purred while we were lying back on the floor, too content to consider moving, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, though I was quite tired by then, so a lot could have slipped my mind.

“Well,” she said, probably the closest she’d come to a confrontational tone in all the time I’d known her, “Metamorpheus said he’d remove those post hypnotic suggestions from your mind this weekend, so you can do whatever you want to me. Maybe yesterday, maybe today. But I still haven’t felt you inside me. Your fingers, yes, and tongue, but not ... your penis. Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said, a little nervous to talk about it, but glad she’d noticed. “Nothing’s wrong at all, and I could fuck you any time I wanted. If I decided to. But you said you’re still a virgin, at least as far as doing that, and you said you wanted to save that for marriage.“

She blinked, and smiled so wide I thought the top of her head might fall off. “You remembered? But I thought you were only ... I mean ...” she trailed off into silence, suddenly shy, not quite finding the words for what she wanted to say.

“I know,” I said, putting an arm around her, letting her know I wanted her to feel safe here. “If I could have, I would have done you the first chance I got. I only waited because Master made me, but that made me realise ... I knew we could have fun without doing that. And if it’s special for you, then I want it to stay special.“

She blushed at that, as pink as I’d ever seen her, even when we’d discussed and executed the most depraved acts of dominance and submission. There were tears in her eyes; tears of joy, I could tell from the way she gazed at me.

I continued, “It might have taken an evil Master to make me realise that, but giving you what you want is more important that just giving my cock a quick thrill. Besides, its not exactly necessary when you will obey any command,” I put all the assertiveness and agression I could muster into that one word, saw her eyes widen as the old hypnotic suggestions in her mind kicked in, making her hot and ready to obey at the mere thought of receiving a command she couldn’t fight. “I am your master,” I continued, and she gasped as the anticipation aroused her more that I’d have thought possible, “And you will obey me. You will obey, when I command you: Cum for your Master. Now.“

Two gasps, two gasps of delight and a back-arched, toes-curled, whole-body scream later, and ten minutes to calm down, she spoke again. Her voice was a little shaky, but my whole attention was on her and I heard every word, “Thank you, Master. And thank you for remembering, and caring, too. That means so much to me, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“We should go shopping, then,” I said, knowing I must be beaming just as much as her as I looked on her face, “We need to buy a ring, and I need to find a fancy restaurant, too. Just a pity I won’t be able to surprise you now.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a mischevious grin, “You’re learning that hypnosis stuff pretty well.”

I didn’t quite understand, at that point, but I got it soon enough. “Only from reading stories, its not like proper training.”

“Well, read more stories, then! Learn, practise, I’m always here, and then you’ll be able to surprise me no matter how much we talked about it before. You wanted to wait for me, even when I’d give it up easily, Master. So I say now, before you even ask, you can change my memories, my desires, whatever you want, and I know you’ll have my best interests at heart.”

“No conditions?” I wanted to be completely sure, “No rules? No lines I shouldn’t cross?”

“Well, maybe one request,” she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could tell from the cheeky grin it wouldn’t be anything serious, “Can I cum again, please, Master?”

And it seems, one word was enough. I said it, “Yes.”