The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A Year in the Life

Jennifer slid into the booth and watched as the hostess set out the menus and wine list for herself and her Master. She’d been waiting in the bar until he had finally called on her cell phone, and told her he would be late. There was some emergency at work, something that only he could handle. He had told her to get a table, preferably a booth, and wait for him, that he would be there in a few minutes.

She smiled and took a sip of her water. She hadn’t ordered a drink at the bar, not wanting to change the parameters of tonight’s dinner without Master’s permission.

All of this is so much like him, Jennifer thought... his attempt to make this Valentine’s Day, this first anniversary of their getting together, so special; his importance at work and his dedication to his job; his consideration in calling her and telling her what he wanted—all of these were things she’d come to expect from her Master over the past year.

She sat there, sipping her water, taking in the frankly admiring glances of the men at the other tables, content to simply wait.

Master had taught her how to be patient. He had taught her how to wait on his attentions. He had taught her how to wait for his approval. He had even taught her how to wait patiently for her own orgasms, for the release of the incredible sexual pressures he could create within her, almost at will.

Jennifer shivered inside her clingy, black-silk strapless, trying to suppress her bodily responses to the memories of last night’s lovemaking. She was sans undergarments, as per Master’s instructions, and she didn’t want to show any obvious signs of arousal... at least not until he arrived. It was difficult, though. She squirmed against the plush vinyl beneath her, images of last night’s passions forcing themselves upon her.

She knew that Master had not been himself the past few weeks, although he’d refused to tell her why. But last night, in bed, Master had been so insistent, so needy, so desperate in his desires. She’d fed on his emotions, his lust, the way she always did, climbing to the top of the world with him time after time. He had driven and pushed her, holding off her last orgasm for so long that when he’d finally allowed her to cum, her screams of pleasure had only ended when she basically passed out in his arms.

Damn! Down nipples, down! she thought, knowing it was already too late. She hoped no other man could see the way they were straining into the sheer fabric of her dress. She wasn’t embarrassed to be seen this way; it was just she wanted no question in anyone’s mind as to who was creating the arousal inside her.

It was getting ridiculous now, however. It was as if she could still feel his cock sliding and driving into her steamy pussy, filling her and taking her onward and upward. Jennifer groaned as she realized the only thing keeping her from lewdly spreading her straining legs was the tightness of her gown.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

Jennifer looked up to see a young woman, obviously their waitress, standing there, her smile belying the concern of her words.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Could I get you something to drink? I understand that you’re waiting for someone.”

“Yes, I’m waiting for Ma... Michael.” Master didn’t like her using his “proper” title while out in public. “So nothing now, but if you’d please come back when he arrives...?”

“Of course, ma’am. No problem at all.” With another knowing smile, the waitress turned and moved off to another table.

Jennifer sighed, not happy to be caught in such a state, but thankful for the interruption. Without it, she doubted she could have brought herself back down, and she wanted tonight to go so wonderfully well. As it was, she was already thankful that her dress was so dark.

She was quite wet now, she knew. Her orgasms were not restricted except by Master’s specific instructions, but it would have been terribly wrong to have had one before he even showed up. Ohh, hurry, Master, she thought, unable to be as patient as she knew she should be. She always missed him badly when they were apart. It just seemed that the light was brighter when he was with her, the air fresher, the sights and sounds around her clearer and more dynamic.

And finally, there he was!

Jennifer shivered, for so many reasons, as he approached, wending his way through the tables, following the hostess. In her enthusiasm and happiness to see him, she would have stood as they neared their booth. However, Master was a stickler for the social amenities, chivalrous to a fault, and that would simply not be right, either. What Jennifer actually wanted to do was quickly slide out of the booth and kneel before him, to let everyone see the exact structure of their relationship and her love for her Master.

But she did neither; instead, she opted for what he would want her to do—to sit and smile and wait for him to speak to her.

So she did that, now knowing why he’d wanted a booth instead of a table, happy to see him slide in beside her and press his leg and shoulder against hers.

“Sorry I’m late, Jen. This is absolutely the last night I wanted to be late, but the system problem was idling about 300 employees, and I couldn’t allow my concerns to override that... not even tonight.”

Jennifer felt a surge of pride run through her, knowing Master had made the proper choice, that he trusted her enough to know he could do what was right without recriminations from her.

“That’s okay, Michael,” she said, locking his arm with hers. “I don’t mind waiting. Besides, the anticipation of your arrivals is half the fun.”

She was surprised when Michael ducked his head, even appearing to blush, something she hadn’t seen from him in ages. His words surprised her, too.

“Well, we’ll see how it goes, I guess.” He glanced at his watch, then continued. “I just wanted tonight to be special—Valentine’s Day, the anniversary of our first date—I wanted to be all dressed up and looking my best, not wearing my work clothes.”

“But you look fine! Clean shirt, dress pants, and a tie. You’re dressed better than half the men in here, Michael.”

He just stared at her for a moment before giving her a nod and a quick smile. “Thanks, babe. If I’d had my way I would have escorted you here, too, not had you meet me. And then we could have had a wonderful dinner before I gave you your present, and before we talked.”

He seemed so serious to Jennifer, as if he were carrying some sort of heavy weight on his shoulders, or some pain deep in his heart. What he was saying was starting to concern her, too.

“May I get you something to drink now?” The attractive waitress was back, startling Jennifer before she could ask Master if anything was wrong.

“Would you please just bring us a bottle of your best house wine?”

“Very good, sir. White or red?”

“Make it a white, please. With two straws.”

Despite the strangeness of the last few minutes, Jennifer was already laughing by the time the waitress realized Michael was just joking. Jennifer loved Master’s droll sense of humor, too.

“Yes sir. I’ll be back shortly with your wine... and your straws.” She smiled, turned, and headed off, leaving the two of them alone again.

Jennifer turned to tell him “good one,” but Michael had already stop smiling, frowning now as he looked at his watch again. Then he began to rummage around in his far pocket for something.

Growing more concerned, Jennifer clutched his arm tighter and asked, “Is something wrong, Mas... Michael? If there’s something wrong, please tell me.”

He ignored her for the moment, finally fishing a small box out of his pocket. He reached over to put it on the table in front of her, then looked at his watch... again.

Jennifer looked at the box, then at him. “Do you have to run back to work, Michael? If you do, I’ll completely understand, you know.”

“What? No... that’s not it. I just need you to open your present and tell you something before....”

“Before...?”

He sighed, that leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Please just open your gift, Jen. Then we’ll talk.” He sighed again. “I didn’t even have time to wrap it.”

“That’s all right,” she said, still feeling the warmth of his lips on her cheek, and disengaging their arms so she could open the box. She worked the lid off, then turned the base over, sliding the small, black jewelry case inside it into her hand.

“Go ahead... open it,” he said quietly.

She did. She lifted the top and gasped, staring down at her gift. It was a large diamond ring—so large that even in the low light of the restaurant it sparkled and shown. It must’ve been four or five carats, and very expensive-looking.

Jennifer couldn’t understand it. When she’d first met him, he was heavily in debt, and even with her working part-time now, his good job, and living somewhat on the cheap, it had only been recently that they’d started to save any money at all.

And now this.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered if Master was going to ask her to marry him. But nothing about this felt like a marriage proposal. It was beginning to feel more like just the opposite to her, in fact. She pressed forward though, knowing she had to say something to show her appreciation.

“It’s marvelous! It’s totally lovely, Michael... thank you. But it’s really way too much. We can’t afford this.” Jennifer would normally never challenge Master on anything of this nature, but she was very worried about what was happening. She was saddened when she looked up into his eyes and saw none of the ring’s sparkle there.

“What’s going on? Please tell me.”

“Put the ring on, Jen, and then I’ll tell you.”

She nodded, and did, working it onto her finger. It fit perfectly, and looked wonderful to her. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes trying to fill with tears. Master had always been so thoughtful to her, so kind; but she couldn’t shed the feeling of dread that was starting to overwhelm her.

She tried to shake herself out of it as she felt him kissing her cheek again, felt the warm buzz move through her she always felt whenever he kissed her. She tried to stifle her emotions, and said, “Now tell me what you need to tell me, please.”

“All right,” Michael said, surprising Jennifer by pulling away from her a few inches. “It’s not like I have a choice now.”

She simply nodded, her heart starting to hammer, not liking the vibes she was getting from this at all.

“In five minutes—at eight o’clock—something is going to happen, Jen; something I’ve known was coming for the past year.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed, wondering if she could be any more confused.

“God... I hate this,” he said, looking up to the heavens for a second. “All right... fast and loose here; the whole story....

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Jen, back in the office about two Christmases ago. You were so beautiful... are so beautiful. You were smart and funny and unattached; a bit aloof, but nice enough to everyone. You were friendly enough to me, but it was obvious I wasn’t someone you cared all that much about, and I knew for sure that I wasn’t on your sexual radar screen at all.”

Jennifer struggled to think back to that time, barely able to remember anything before she and Master had gotten together. She had worked in his office... that she remembered. But she hadn’t liked him from the first moment she met him? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“Every day... seeing you, hearing your voice, smelling your perfume, trying to stare at you without you knowing, my attraction to you simply grew and grew, no matter how hard I tried to resist it. You burrowed your way into my heart, and I couldn’t suppress my love for you... I couldn’t even slow it down. But you didn’t really even see me. You weren’t mean or anything, but you made it clear enough that I never stood a chance with you.”

Michael glanced at his watch, and began speaking faster.

“So, like a love-struck boy, I started looking around, trying to find anything that might work, anything I could find that would make you notice me, make you somehow want me. I searched around the city and on the Internet, thought about things like hypnosis, or magic charms, or mystical chants. It was all so silly and stupid, but I was so desperate.”

Jennifer was getting dizzy, her whole world beginning to spin as Michael rushed on.

“I bought and tried a couple of useless things. You may remember that jade amulet you found on your desk the one morning, or the day I read you that love poem I supposedly found.”

She nodded, vaguely remembering such things. However, all of that time, that time before she became Master’s, was still so foggy to her.

“Do you remember that day a week before last Valentine’s Day, the day you thought I might really be something, the day you enjoyed being with me, the day you agreed to go out with me?”

Jennifer nodded, actually remembering that, remembering how thrilled she’d felt when he’d asked her out for a Valentine’s Day dinner.

“Well, I had found something... a website where they offered a cheap sample of a ‘can’t miss’ love potion... a love and obedience potion, to be exact.”

“I love potion? That’s just silly, Michael.”

“I know. I thought so, too. But I really was that desperate. Anyrate, I sent them ten bucks and they sent me a one-day sample. I, well... I poured it in your morning coffee that day, and made sure I was next to you as you drank it. The effects were almost instantaneous. You couldn’t stop looking at me, flirting with me, complimenting me. I knew the potion was working, but that it would only last for the day. So I asked you out, determined to get more of it during the week before our dinner date.”

Jennifer sat there staring at him, not believing any of this, not daring to believe any of this. Was he trying to ruin their life together? Was there something else wrong that was causing him to make up such a strange and unbelievable story about the two of them?

Michael reached over and took her hand. “I got it, Jen. For $5,000, I got it... a strong enough potion to last for exactly one year. One year,” he said, glancing at his watch one last time, “... that ends in exactly 20 seconds. It was exactly one year ago that I poured it in your first glass of wine on our first date.”

This is insane, she thought. A love and obedience potion?

Jennifer was about to speak, to beg Master to stop playing this terrible game with her, when she felt it. She felt it start in her chest, in her heart, and radiate outward; a cold fire that swept down her body, through her loins and down to her toes; a chilly heat that raced up her spine into her brain, that moved through her breasts and down her arms to the tips of her fingers.

She closed her eyes and gasped, gripping Michael’s hand tighter, trying not to cry aloud at the feelings pulsing through her like ripples on a pond. Her dizziness increased for a few moments as she felt her mind become sharper, more aware. She could hear the voices of other patrons, the click and clack of cutlery and dishes. She wondered at that, at why they seemed so loud, as she’d always thought her senses were heightened whenever Master was near her.

But then she realized that wasn’t quite the case, that all she could normally hear, without deliberately trying to listen for other things, was Michael’s voice. It was almost as if his words had been the only thing worth listening to, worth paying any attention to, whenever he was around.

Swaying softly, afraid to open her eyes, she struggled to sort out what was happening to her. Memories came rushing back to her now— feelings and thoughts and desires, her own personal history, her time before Michael and her time with him. She remembered back when they’d first met, and how she’d thought he was a very nice man, but certainly not what she was looking for in a soulmate.

She gasped again at that thought. Until this moment, she could never remember not wanting him, not thinking Michael was the center of her entire world. This thought startled her, shook Jennifer to her very core, that she could now remember a time when she didn’t adore him.

More than anything else possibly could, it convinced her that all of this was true, that she had just come out of a year-long, potion-induced dream.

“Are you all right, Jen?” she heard the man beside her whisper.

She said nothing in response, still afraid to open her eyes, afraid to speak, desperately trying to sort things out.

What did it mean? What was real and what was fantasy? Had her entire life, or at least the last year of it, been founded on a lie?

She knew she should be angry, but she wasn’t, and she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t. Michael had essentially drugged her, after all, and had somehow kidnapped her mind and heart for the past year. She should be outraged, shouldn’t she? She should be in his face right now, maybe slapping it, telling him what she thought about his rather despicable and immoral actions.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t feel angry, just confused. Her mind raced with questions, unsure of what to do or what to say. Still, the questions kept nagging at her, demanding answers. What had he done to her? What had he turned her into? Who had she even been 365 days ago?

She decided to try to answer the last question first.

Whether it was because of some remnant of the potion within her, or just the dispassion of time and distance, Jennifer looked back at her life before Michael—and saw it, saw it more clearly than she had ever allowed herself to see it before, almost as if she were examining the life of a stranger.

She saw herself working in the systems information office with Michael, and realized that she had only been there for a paycheck, to support herself. Her job hadn’t really been anything she cared about very much. The part-time position she currently held at the publishing house, editing and polishing manuscripts, interacting with authors, was far more fulfilling and fun to her.

She remembered her time after college, her search for a partner and husband. At first she was looking for Mr. Goodbar, and then, at the office, looking for Mr. Right. Like most women, she was looking for someone strong and handsome, warm and witty, someone who would commit to her and whom she could commit to in return. She’d obviously wanted someone sexy and sensual, who would take care of her, yet give her the space to be her own person.

In other words, the whole nine yards... the perfect man.

Well, she hadn’t found him. She hadn’t even got close to finding him, as she remembered. She’d dated some, slept around a bit, but was no closer to finding “her” man a year ago than she’d been two years ago, or three. With a start, she realized that if Michael hadn’t asked her out, she wouldn’t even have had a date last Valentine’s Day.

But he and his potion had stopped her life, had taken all her decisions and choices away from her. It had ended her search and simply made Michael her whole universe. And what had that meant to her; what kind of life had that left her?

Jennifer opened her eyes finally, looking at Michael. For some reason she was not surprised to notice that his hair was just a bit thinner than she remembered it, that his eyes weren’t so beautiful, that his stomach was not so firm. Michael was not a bad-looking man at all, but he was certainly not the near-Adonis Jennifer had been seeing in her mind’s eye for the past year. He gave her a wan, hopeful smile, but didn’t speak, apparently understanding the mental maelstrom she was trying her best to navigate.

But, dammit... then he’d gone and given me something that had affected and controlled my mind, that had forced me to love and obey him.

Which she’d done, and for a whole year, a year of her life she could never get back.

Closing her eyes again, and letting her mind drift, Jennifer now looked at what that past year had been like, trying to take the measure of what she’d become because of what he’d done to her.

Basically, she’d become Michael’s slave... his domestic servant, his partner, his lover. She looked at everything she’d done for him. Her “duties” had included keeping up his apartment, doing his laundry, helping with his finances, and cooking for him. Well, Michael had done some of the cooking... he was an excellent cook, in fact.

Remembering watching him in the kitchen, fussing about with the pots and pans and stove, working on his creations, way overdoing Emeril’s “Bam!” whenever he added an ingredient to his “latest culinary masterpiece”, Jennifer found herself trying to smile. And as she looked back on her daily chores and tasks, she found herself having to admit that she’d enjoyed them for the most part, and that she’d enjoyed taking care of Michael and their home.

It was satisfying, pleasantly mindless, and definitive work. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to wash out the tub... but when it was done, it was done, and the difference was obvious, and good.

She thought about the tub, remembering how many times Michael had bathed her. Even though her goal in life had been to serve him, he still liked to do for her. It would take both hands to count the number of times he he’d lighted candles in the bathroom, undressed her, and helped her into a steaming tub. He liked lots of lather, and was particularly fond of scrubbing her back and of using his slick hands to make sure her breasts were exceptionally... clean.

She shivered, almost feeling his hands “washing” her, not bothering to suppress the reaction those memories were causing underneath her dress once again.

Now that she truly thought about it, however, they really had been partners, despite the authority he held over her. The cooking, the books, the shopping, when they’d painted the bedroom, had all been shared, or done together. He’d given her a say in their purchases, where they went out to eat, play, or be entertained. His decisions were final, but Jennifer had been fine with that, as Michael had always seemed to really consider her suggestions and comments.

She opened her eyes and focused on him again. Michael’s smile was gone, but he didn’t look as sad as he had before, his eyes flitting up and down from her face to her breasts. She didn’t bother looking down, already knowing her nipples were back in full flower.

Jennifer realized she’d always liked him looking at her, even before the potion. He hadn’t had to tell her to keep in shape, to always try to look her best. No, she liked him looking at her, and had taken her cue from that, going to the gym when they could afford it, trying to watch what she ate.

Michael moved his hand toward her, and began to stroke her forearm with his fingers. Without questioning, without allowing herself to think about the rightness or wrongness of that, Jennifer felt herself tingling inside, a bit stunned that such a simple touch, such a gentle intimacy, could create such a strong reaction inside her. Her mind felt so much different than it had even ten minutes ago, so she was sure the potion had worn off.

So why such strong feelings of arousal, still?

Last night... she let herself think about last night again, as she’d done before Michael had arrived at the restaurant. She now knew what his distress of the past few weeks had been about, and why he’d been so desperate last night. He’d realized it might be their last time together, the last time they would have sex, the last time they would share the same bed.

The last time....

She thought about that, about how she’d perhaps made him breakfast for the last time this morning; about how she would never smell one of his t-shirts again before she threw it in the wash; that she might never again feel Michael gripping her ass and kissing her neck while she rinsed the veggies….

Was it possible that last night might be the last time she would ever wake up in the middle of the night and feel his body leaning against hers; that she would never again feel this lips and fingers against her sensitive nipples, or his cock thrusting inside her over and over again until she could barely stand the pleasure of it anymore?

She groaned aloud as the thought of that, of last night possibly being her last time with Michael, hit her like a punch in the stomach. It felt as if, for a moment, she’d imagined him dead, and potion or no potion, her entire world had exploded into a huge cloud of smoke and simply drifted away.

Unable to speak, she reached across and gripped his wrist, clutching it, digging her fingers into his flesh.

“What’s the matter, Jen? What’s wrong?” he hissed at her, covering her squeezing hand with his own.

She was panting now, just managing to suppress a panic attack. He’s still here, she thought. The past year hasn’t been a dream... it’s been real. My feelings were real too, no matter what the reason for them.

Perhaps she had always been a submissive, had always desired for someone to take over the reins of her life. But that didn’t matter now, did it? She had enjoyed the past year, had loved being in love with Michael. The potion had only started her road down this part of her life... it hadn’t lived it. It may have created the certainty of her feelings for him, but it hadn’t changed the reality of how happy she’d been to be with him, to be his slave.

Besides, the potion hadn’t changed him at all. Michael was who he was, who he had always been, who she hoped he always would be. Yes... like most women, she had been looking for someone strong and handsome, warm and witty, someone who would commit to her and whom she could commit to in return, someone sexy and sensual, who would take care of her, yet give her the space to be her own person.

And, unlike so many other women, she had found him.

While Michael wasn’t perfect in all of those areas, he was certainly close. Right now, thinking back, Jennifer could never imagine finding anyone closer.

Happiness wasn’t a path, after all, was it? Happiness was a destination. What matter how she’d gotten there as long as she’d arrived. That was something else she’d found... happiness.

With Michael.

“Jen! Please... tell me how you feel. Are you all right? You don’t feel sick or anything, do you? Please!”

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” she said, her mind clearing completely as she suddenly smiled at him. “But I still need the answers to a couple of questions, if you could.”

She watched as Michael visibly relaxed a bit, happy that, as always, he was so concerned about her. He still looked worried, though, as he said, “Anything, Jen. You can ask me anything.”

“Ok, then. First, if you knew what I might be feeling right now, how angry and betrayed I might feel, why did you buy me this hideously expensive ring? Were you trying to buy me, too?”

He shook his head viciously. “No, no... it was nothing like that at all. I... I don’t really know why I bought it. I just saw it, knew it was Valentine’s Day, and thought of you. When I saw it cost almost exactly the same as the potion, I just felt... I don’t know... like it was something you deserved, no matter what happens; like it was something fated for you to have, for what I did to you. You have been the biggest jewel in my entire life, Jen, and maybe I was trying to show you that, too.”

“I see,” she said quietly, staring at her gift. “I’m going to keep it, you know. It’s something that will always remind me of tonight... and remind me of you, Michael.”

She watched that register on his face, watched him frown and struggle with his emotions before he asked, “What’s the second question, Jen?”

“I was just wondering, although you probably haven’t thought it through all the way yet,” she said, unable to resist a coy smile, “But as our kids get old enough to know better, should I still call you Master when we’re at home?”

There was a moment’s pause, then Michael jerked to his feet. The look he gave her as he did was worth more to Jennifer than a dozen diamond rings, and she was not the least bit embarrassed as he cried out, “Yes! Yes!” at the top of his lungs, waving his fists in the air and looking as if he’d lost his mind. “Straws for everyone!”

Their rather stunned waitress took just that moment to reappear with the wine. As Michael was sitting back down, red-faced and embarrassed, she noticed the ring on Jennifer finger and assumed the obvious.

“Congratulations to you both. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

Jennifer looked up at her, a huge smile on her face. “Thank you. And if history is any indication, I’m sure we will be.”

She was going to say more, but her Master was spinning her toward him in his arms. He whispered “Happy Valentine’s Day”, then kissed her so hard she saw stars.

A whole universe of them.