The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“The Waking Dream”

( mc / tk / Ff / mf / fd )

DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER

First off, your basic disclaimer of “If you’re under 18 or offended by sex, especially female-female sex, get lost.” Also, a warning that this story contains scenes of mind control so if that type of things offends you, again, just stay away.

* * *

DAY TWO (Awaecnian)

* * *

She slowly returned to consciousness after a long sleep. She could not remember anything about her old life. All of her memories were very hazy—they seemed far away, as if they were just a dream. She noticed with concern that she could not put her finger on her name. It seemed out there but just beyond her reach. As her eyes adjusted after their long break, the brown-haired woman found colors around her drab and dull; she could barely see the red tinge on her fingernails.

Then she became aware of her surroundings—she lay in a very large bed, full of comforters and pillows. She noticed a tray in front of her; it contained food of some sort, which vaguely resembled eggs, and a cup which held pleasant-smelling liquid.

Then she heard music. She turned to her right and saw a wooden instrument, perhaps a mandolin, being delicately strummed by a pair of black-gloved hands. The music was melodic and almost soporific; the awoken barely noticed the musician’s great skill at being able to play with gloves on. But then she noticed the musician.

She would never forget the face; a soft, kind face with a pair of brown eyes that stared affectionately back at her. The musician appeared to have some Oriental blood; her eyes took on a natural, if slight slant, and her skin was flushed with a light tan. Her cheeks were somewhat chubby, which gave her a sweet, girlish-like face. The rest of her body, however, betrayed the fact that she was a woman. Her long, black hair hung down to her waist, and her body was simply voluptuous. The musician wore all black; the gloves, a bra and panties (that also looked silken), thin black stockings, and a see-through robe which she wore over it all.

The musician’s gaze at the woman seemed infinitely comforting. But the woman was distracted with the memories which she still seemed to reach out for, and became confused. Finally, the musician spoke, and her voice was remembered by the woman as always sweet and kind, never harsh, and always calm. Not a trace of a foreign accent was apparent.

“Good morning, Charlotte. I’ve made breakfast for you—you must be hungry after your journey.”

Charlotte...? She thought in her mind. She had never been called Charlotte. But the name felt familiar. And she did remember a journey—she recalled being in a car, sleeping...

“...hmm?” The woman who was being called Charlotte yawned and stretched. She became aware of what she was wearing, similar to the musician; but, her gloves and socks were fuzzy and not silken like her companion’s, and she was not wearing a robe. She looked at the food and did feel a bit hungry. But she was growing more concerned about her inability to remember anything before this point.

“You should eat. I made this food for you,” the musician repeated. She then gently squeezed the woman’s upper leg, who was momentarily distracted by the sensation. The silken fabric of the glove felt wonderful as it caressed her bare leg, and she took in a breath. Then the musician’s tone of voice became firmer, more authoritative, but at the same time more soft and coaxing.

“Eat,” she said, and smiled. The woman felt a strange but familiar warmth pass through her body, beginning from her hands, feet, breasts and hips where clothing gently covered and spreading through her body, and she found herself unable to resist the command. She found a fork and started to eat the food and drink the liquid, and they tasted very good and satisfied her hunger.

The black-haired beauty put down her mandolin and stretched out on the bed, watching the woman eat. She seemed enthralled to watch her eat. Charlotte (the woman seemed to somewhat accept this name for now) noticed this and blushed somewhat.

The other woman and smiled. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful, Charlotte?”

Charlotte’s eyes widened at the familiarity of this question. It seemed like, just a time ago, someone asked her the same question. But Charlotte couldn’t remember. It seemed so far away and out of reach.

Charlotte asked the obvious question. “Who are you?”

The other woman smiled. “Oh, you sweet darling.” She chuckled warmly. “I’m your Mistress.”

“Huh?” Charlotte didn’t understand. “No, what’s your name?”

Then the musician gave her a pacifying, warm look... Charlotte couldn’t help but stare into her inviting brown eyes. They seemed to melt away her qualms. “I’m your Mistress,” she repeated. “That’s all.”

Charlotte was able to look away and she lowered her eyes. “Who am I, then?” she asked quietly, more to herself.

The dark haired woman smiled, and gently pulled her closer. “You are Charlotte,” she murmured softly. “And you are all mine.” And deep down inside something stirred within Charlotte that told her this was right. And to be comfortable. But she wasn’t ready to accept it yet. She wanted to know how she came to be here.

Charlotte’s resistance must have been evident, because the musician let go. She then lightly stroked Charlotte’s brown hair with her gloved hand. “I won’t make you accept it,” she said. “You’ll see, in your own time.” She smiled and lowered her eyes, patting Charlotte’s shoulder. The feeling was pleasant.

“In the meantime, you can make yourself at home here,” the woman said warmly. “I think you can keep yourself entertained.” She then stood up. “I’ll see you soon, darling.” The way she said ‘darling’ gave Charlotte an excited tingle all through her body. The woman then walked away, and Charlotte got up herself to explore, despite the way she was dressed.

* * *

The house was very large. Charlotte found an indoor swimming pool, and nearby a large room with sprinklers and bars of soap. The shower? She also found a plush living room with a TV set that resembled a waiting room. And many, many bedrooms.

But nowhere did she find an exit to the outside. It occured to Charlotte that she had no idea where she was. She tried turning on the television, but it didn’t pick up any local stations, just cable. She ended up spending the majority of the day watching movies in the living room.

When her host came to bring her lunch, Charlotte was watching a sugary sweet romance film, not really paying much attention to the storyline. She looked towards the woman, and it was then she noted that the woman was a good few inches taller than Charlotte.

She asked again, “Who are you?”

And the woman replied, with infinite calm, “I am your Mistress, darling.”

“But if you’re my Mistress, that makes me your slave.”

Her host lowered her eyes and smiled, then looked back at Charlotte. “You’re not my slave, sweet heart.” (She said the words not as one but two.)

“But do you expect me to do everything you—”

Charlotte was cut off by the same loving gaze that she had received before. Her thoughts drifted. She felt her need to know ebbing. It wasn’t all that important now. She should try to enjoy herself. Charlotte took in the lunch, a sandwich of some sort, and ate it slowly, finding it very tasty but feeling very antsy.

As the day drifted to a close, Charlotte was hardly even aware of what she was watching on television anymore. She shut it off and sighed to herself, closing her eyes and losing herself in thought.

She tried to remember.

Why was she here? She seemed to recall something. She came here because someone asked her to. Who? Charlotte couldn’t remember, but she knew that she was here to meet someone special... that could only be the woman calling herself her Mistress. But how could she be special if she wanted to dominate her?

But it didn’t seem that way at all. She didn’t want to take advantage of her. She wasn’t forcing herself upon Charlotte. She didn’t match the normal dominatrix stereotype of a mistress that Charlotte had pictured. In fact, this woman seemed to want to help her.

And the more Charlotte thought about it, the more things matched. After a long period of thinking, she was struck with an epiphany, where everything connected and became clear. Not about her memories, but about her purpose in being where she was. And when Charlotte discovered this, she stopped trying to recall the memories.

The warm, comfortable feelings stirring inside her assured Charlotte that she was right.

* * *

Charlotte heard the sounds of soft feet padding lightly through the hallways when she awoke to see her host with dinner. It looked like meat but not quite. Charlotte looked at the woman, and saw a warm smile and kind eyes greeting her back.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Charlotte said gratefully before digging in. The food tasted great, and she remembered that her host had prepared this food for her. “Don’t you eat?” asked Charlotte.

“I’ve eaten,” was the simple reply.

Then Charlotte asked her host to sit down next to her, and the look on the woman’s face was priceless. She looked as if she had just seen an old friend that she hadn’t seen in years. Charlotte put on a modest face.

“You want to tell me something?” her host said in a friendly tone of voice.

“Yeah,” Charlotte answered. “I think I know why I’m here.” She paused and looked at her host’s face, who smiled and nodded. “I can’t remember very well what happened before I came. But I know that I came here to meet someone who would help me. And, well, you’re just so friendly. I think you want to help me.”

The woman’s smile said much more than words. Her smile said “I am so happy that you understand.” Charlotte blushed. She felt like things would start to come together for her now.

“Yes.” The woman answered finally. “I want to help you. I want to help you relax and feel good, feel pleasurable, feel beautiful. You need to feel these things, Charlotte. At least, I feel that you do. You can judge for yourself.”

Charlotte listened intently, but her host’s gaze seemed to draw her in. She found that she could not pull her eyes away, nor did she want to. Her voice and her eyes were taking captive of Charlotte.

“But I do ask for one thing. For the time you spend here, darling, you turn your will over to me. Obey me without question. I know it sounds... harsh, but if you trust me, then I’ll be able to help you feel so good while you are here for your five days. I want to...”

Charlotte subconsciously heard the woman’s words, but she was being pulled into a comfortable haven by the woman’s warm and relaxing voice and her enchanting, hypnotic eyes. She understood what this woman was saying. She wanted Charlotte to submit to her. To obey her every command while Charlotte stayed there. And Charlotte trusted her immensely. Warm feelings started to blossom within her body.

“...I don’t want to take anything from you, but that. I’ll help you. You’ll see, darling.” Charlotte heard a sigh. “I think you understand what I ask of you, and what I’m offering you. Do you?”

A dreamy nod.

“Now this will be the last choice I give you. Will you let me be your Mistress?”

Charlotte was enraptured. There was no way she could say no. It was impossible. She came here for help. She would get it. And she would obey the woman. She wanted to... for warm, fuzzy feelings always came with her obedience. Plus, the woman was trustworthy. Just like...

“Yes... You are my Mistress.”

And at that moment, Carla’s memories snapped into place, and she remembered everything, but it mattered not now. Because when she turned over her will, Carla Maples became dormant inside her body, willingly. And to take her place was Charlotte. Charlotte, even though her Mistress would fail to admit this, was a lovable and adoring slave, submissive to Her will. And she desired to be so. The warm feeling that came from submission would now stay with Charlotte for always. She was an obedient slave.

She sensed the presence of her Mistress, leaning in close. Charlotte’s lips parted slightly, and she was gently pulled into an affectionate kiss. Charlotte remembered when Carla had kissed a woman. Now, things far more than kissing would take place between Charlotte and her Mistress.

* * *

“How may I please You, Mistress?”

Charlotte and her beautiful Owner were in the bedroom where they had met. There was dim light in the room coming from the ceiling that illuminated that wonderful face for Charlotte to adore.

“Charlotte, I want you to know something. I am here to please you, that’s why you turned over your will. Now, do not be concerned with my pleasure, sweet heart. I shall get my pleasure from yours.”

“But, Mistress,” Charlotte began, and then trailed off. But her Mistress smiled down on her, and she felt as if she could continue. “Mistress, people like to be touched. Sometimes they need to be touched. It must be the same for You.”

“My physical pleasure would detract from my ability to give it,” Charlotte’s Mistress sighed. “That is an additional purpose of your gloves. Touch me, Charlotte. Touch my breasts.”

Charlotte was commanded, and she did so, lightly brushing on her Mistress’ supple, silk-covered bosom with her gloved hand, and feeling warm feelings from within as reward. But none of the expected effects took place within her Mistress. She merely smiled at Charlotte.

“Put your hand inside. Touch my skin.” And Charlotte did so, happily and obediently cradling her Mistress’ left breast with her soft hand, but still nothing happened. Charlotte sighed. The gloves kept her from pleasing her One and Only!

“Know this, Charlotte. I would derive greater pleasure from pleasing you. Remember, that’s why you turned over your will.” Her Mistress’ Eyes became warm with loving affection, and Charlotte melted in Her gaze.

She gasped as she felt the softest hands in the world lightly caress her breasts through the pleasant cushions that covered them. She opened her eyes and saw her Mistress’ Gloved hands run over her chest, and sighed deeply. Charlotte looked into a smiling, joyous face, and she knew her pleasure was her Mistress’ Pleasure.

Then, slowly, her Mistress’ hands tapered off. She used one hand to tug on Her Glove, pulling it further back on her hand, and repeated this for Her other Glove, and when She was done, Charlotte noticed something. Dark purple-painted fingernails, long and slender, had emerged from underneath the Gloves. Charlotte didn’t care to think how Her fingernails, once small enough to not be visibly noticeable through Her glove, had now grown so much. It didn’t matter. Her Mistress was capable of many things.

“Submit your belly to me,” Charlotte was commanded. She did so gladly, for she would steal the moon from the night sky for Her. Charlotte pressed her lower chest, bare and round, slightly into the air for her Lover to touch and please.

Ever so lightly, She ran Her long fingernails all along Charlotte’s sides, producing delightfully ticklish sensations within her (and soft warmth all around her body). Unconsciously, Charlotte suppressed her laughter until her Mistress’ skilled touch caused Charlotte to let out lovable giggles.

Her Owner was delighted to hear Her Charlotte laugh. She then stopped Her tickling and ran Her Gloved fingers over Charlotte’s belly, winding Her hands all around her belly button. Charlotte sighed and started to coo quietly; she loved to have her belly stroked. And, with its supple roundness, it was pleasant to touch.

Her Lover adored her coos. She continued stroking her belly in this way until, slowly, Her hands reached off to her sides, and She raked them gently once more. Charlotte resisted (partly to increase her Mistress’ pleasure in stroking her) but lasted for a shorter time before she started giggling again. And then her Mistress would move on to rub Charlotte’s belly with that rapturous circular movement that caused her to coo like a child, until she was tickled again.

And so her Mistress continued to pleasure Charlotte in this way, and before too long she was giggling and cooing and feeling heavenly. And the warm feelings inside her were blossoming into sexual heat.

Then, Charlotte’s belly button was kissed affectionaly by her One and Only Mistress, who then faced her, melting her heart with Her mesmerizing Eyes.

“Allow me to kiss your lips, Charlotte.”

Charlotte smiled and parted her lips to feel Her tender touch. She couldn’t help but love her Mistress. She was beautiful and gentle. Charlotte felt Her lips and arms wrap around her head. She kissed Her more passionately and urgently, caressing Her back.

And then her Lover whispered for Charlotte to expose her breasts to Her. She did so enthusiastically, working the straps from behind and lifting it off her pampered bosom. Her Gloved hands moved to tickle Charlotte’s breasts with Her nails, winding Her fingers around each one and raking the nails down towards the nipple, then up and back down again.

Charlotte was caught completely off guard—she erupted in girlish giggling as her Mistress’ tickling aroused her breasts and caused them to harden and her nipples to grow taut. She tried not to squirm, for she had submitted herself to Her; but her body did so uncontrollably. But far from disappoint her Lover, it urged Her on to know that Her tickling was working. She smiled at Charlotte and kissed her again.

After that kiss, Charlotte moaned softly. She saw that her Lover’s finger nails were gone, disappeared under Her Gloves once more, and She lightly stroked her breasts with Her luxuriously cushioned hands. The touch felt like magic to Charlotte; she could actually feel herself turn to putty.

Charlotte moaned and pressed her body closer, to feel more of the loving, cushiony fingers that caressed her breasts. She closed her eyes and felt time slow, speed up, fade away. Her Mistress’ touch was pleasantly disorienting.

Then she felt something that made her gasp with utter delight; her One and Only Love took her right breast into Her mouth and sucked it, flicking at her areoli and nipple with Her tongue, while continuing to stroke her left breast with Her hand. Charlotte cried out for her Mistress repeatedly, and her ignored pussy, burning for attention, was making a wet spot on her panties.

When her right breast was hard and firm, her Mistress suckled on her left breast until it was just as firm and Charlotte was covered in a sheen of sweat. She needed relief, and it was evident by her panties, now dripping at the crotch. Her Lover did not intend to make her wait.

She rolled off of Charlotte. Then She cuddled up right next to her, allowing Charlotte to wind an arm around her neck. She then lifted her leg up and bent her knee, bringing Her stockinged foot to rest just above her panties, and she lingered on the feel of the silk. Charlotte’s Lover dug Her silken foot underneath her panties, and slipped it inside. Charlotte could feel the soft silk fabric of the hose against her sex, and that was nearly enough to make her orgasm right then and there.

Then she felt a pleasant prodding; her Mistress’ big toe flew around the top of her vulva, searching until it found her swollen clitoris and started to rub it, gently at first then more firmly. The pleasure was astounding. Charlotte started to see stars as she turned to her Lover and kissed Her passionately. Before long, her climax hit her, and she cried loudly in utter ecstasy as the orgasm washed throughout her body, satisfying her in ways that Carla had never felt.

Now the crotch of Charlotte’s panties was soaked. Her Mistress looked at her with satisfaction and love. She removed Her foot, which had taken in some of Charlotte’s juices, and wrapped Her arm around her. Charlotte felt the other arm slip under her and that lovely, comforting Gloved hand against her sex. Fingers burrowed into her pussy and stroked inside her. In less than a minute, another orgasm hit Charlotte, and this one could best be described as earth-shattering. She needed to embrace Her Lover and lean agaisnt Her for support, and she felt her panties become sopping wet, the fabric heavy and thick against her. Charlotte’s world spinned around her, and every nerve seemed to cry ‘bliss’ as she lost herself.

Her Mistress stroked her hair and kissed her sweet head until Charlotte had fully recovered. As Carla, she had never had a sexual experience with someone else, and could only remember isolated experiments with masturbation. Now, the scent of arousal was thick in the air, and Charlotte had had two highly pleasurable orgasms. This was a climactic experience for her.

“M-Mistress...” Charlotte confessed. “I—I’ve never done this... never felt like this before...”

Her Mistress’ Eyes, exotic and magnetic, glimmered back at her, and She embraced her devoted love slave. “But you will feel it again.” She kissed Charlotte on the lips, slowly and lovingly. “I promise.”

Charlotte’s eyes involuntarily sunk. She was fatigued. “I think—Mistress? If it is all right with You... I am so tired...”

“Then sleep,” responded her Lover, who moved in for the final kiss of the evening. She pressed Her lips gently against hers, holding her head firmly and using Her tongue to trace circles within her mouth. Charlotte would remember this Kiss forever. After a short eternity, her Mistress loosened Her grip, and wound Her arms around her.

Charlotte’s eyes dropped and closed, not to open again until the morning. She was too tired to think of changing her moist panties... everytime she rolled around in Her arms, she would feel the damp silk caress her sex as a reminder of her experience, as she headed slowly but steadily towards a deep sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED