The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1: Meeting Lady Jet

I first heard about her at the health club. After being very fat most of my life, I finally started taking care of myself physically last year, eating in a way that helped me lose weight. Now I had finally and grudgingly started an exercise program, since I was down to a size where I could do an hour of low-impact aerobics without dropping dead. Over fifty, and still quite out of shape and rather heavy, I was finding it difficult to stay motivated, and my ears perked up when I heard two other guys at the club talking about the trainer called Jet.

They said she was a dominant woman, who obviously got pleasure out of making people in her classes do as she said. She was good at it, too, as skilled a manipulator as she was an aerobics teacher. She was moving her teaching away from the club into private classes, and one of the guys sniggered about what was said to go on there. The other stiffly told him he didn’t know what he was missing out on.

I had always been fascinated by the idea of D/s, especially FemDom, but it was mostly a fantasy trip for me. I decided to see if this lady could help me do what I knew I should. I found out which classes she was still teaching at the club, and signed up for one.

Jet was a beautiful tall young black woman, muscular but voluptuous, speaking mostly standard English in a pleasant low voice, and with a calm and friendly personality. Some Dommes are full of smoldering anger, and make their subs obey through fear. And some subs love that, of course. Maybe I’m a wuss, but I just don’t respond to that at all. I had dreamed of going deeply under the power of a kind Domme. As soon as Jet smiled at me, I felt a bit of that dream come true.

We talked for a few minutes before the class began, and she put me in the back row, firmly telling me to take it easy and do only as much of her routine as I felt sure I could. I was all set to come out with the usual macho BS about how I could keep up, but I heard myself meekly say, “Yes, Ma’am.” She grinned and said, “That’s the spirit!”

The class was only a little too fast for me, but I didn’t press too hard. It was very pleasant to follow Jet’s lead and obey her instructions, as I had hoped. I kept coming regularly, and my wind and endurance slowly improved.

After a few months, Jet told me to meet her after class for a drink in the club’s cafe. “You like obeying me, don’t you, Jim?” she asked.

“I sure do, Ma’am!”

“Would you be interested in joining one of my private mental training classes? I’m not as limited there as I am in a public space, and I take power over my students in ways that go far beyond exercise routines. If you accept me as your personal trainer, I’ll govern you and shape you up to meet my standards, body and soul.”

“I’d love to try that, Ma’am.”

“With me training you, you’ll do more than try!”

Chapter 2: Privacy and Power

Lady Jet’s private classes took place in the basement of her home, a big old mansion in a rundown neighborhood near downtown. The group was only five men, all white and none very athletic. She explained that she tailored her approach to the kind of people she was leading. “And I love to guide white men deeply under my female black power!”

Her students all looked at each other; some of us blushed, but all smiled. Jet had picked only men who shared this fantasy.

She had us lie down reclining on pillows on the floor looking up to her, and then left the room for a moment. When she strode back in, she was majestically nude. “I want you all to focus your attention on my body,” she commanded. “Let my beauty fill your whole mind, and listen carefully to what I say.”

As Jet talked to us, she seemed to grow larger and larger, and I felt myself shrink to insignificance before her. Her voice seemed to come from all around me, and to sink right into my soul. What she said was infinitely persuasive and convincing, and my trust in her became complete.

After a while, I again became aware of my surroundings, and found that I was lying on the floor, so completely relaxed that I couldn’t move. Lady Jet was towering over me. “Jim, what do you want to do?” she asked.

“Whatever pleases you, my Lady,” I answered sincerely.

“Good boy!” I was thrilled at her praise.

She asked each of her new slaves the same question, and got the same answer from each of us. Then she had us stand up, and allowed each of us to come up in front of the class and kiss her feet. I found that I could move freely now, but only to obey her commands. When she gave me no instructions, I couldn’t move at all, and I noticed it was the same for my classmates.

“Boys, let me explain what I’m training you all for,” Lady Jet said. “Of course, partly I do this for pleasure. And you’re all willing to do anything that gives me pleasure, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Lady Jet!” we chorused enthusiastically.

“That’s a good start, but I’m going to teach you to feel that way about black women in general. It’s my sisters I’m concerned about. You see, between low marriage rates and high death rates, there are many black women, especially the older ones, who have no steady man to serve them. My sisters have always had to be strong and patient; they can keep looking, but there’s a lot of competition for the few available men. A BMW—Black Man Working—is often all too well aware of how sought after he is, and won’t treat his woman with respect even if she hooks up with him. I run a mental training class for lonely sisters, to help them consider and prepare for the other possibilities. Some can be satisfied by going lesbian, learning to love and nurture each other. Others can enjoy being bisexual, like me, but they still want a man in their lives, so I open their minds to men of other races.”

“When a black woman learns how beautiful and powerful she is, many men of all colors would be happy to dedicate their lives to her service. If you keep coming to this class, that’s where your head will soon be at. I will train you to serve and obey black women, and show you off to my sisters who are looking for white male slaves. Presently, one of them will choose you for her own, and you will accept her joyfully as your fate. If you aren’t ready for that, don’t come to this class any more, because it’s all going to happen pretty fast!”

Bringing the class to a close, she commanded us to return to our former lives and act normal until the same time next week. “But in your heart you know that I own you now, and part of your mind thinks about me constantly, remembering how beautiful I am and how good it feels to do whatever I say.”

Chapter 3: The Next Lesson

I could hardly wait for the next class night. When it came, I drove over to Lady Jet’s place eager to learn whatever she wanted to teach me. I was surprised to find that only four students had turned up, though.

“That’s about the usual ratio,” our Lady said. “The boy who dropped out had something else he wanted so much he couldn’t risk becoming the love slave of a black woman, for fear she might not let him have it. By showing up again, you all showed that you trust the wisdom of your black Venus. You all know that what your Mistress chooses for you is always going to be the best thing for you, don’t you?”

All of us nodded at this surprising realization and said, “Yes, Lady Jet!”

“Then you don’t have to worry about having separate goals and plans of your own. You’ll find that you’re more ambitious than ever, and more successful, but your goals will be chosen for you by the woman who owns you. All you have to do is relax and enjoy it!”

“And speaking of that...” She had us lie down on her classroom floor again, and began speaking to us in her mellow golden voice. I smiled as I felt myself swept away, deeply under her power.

This time we came out of it to find that we were nude, like our commandingly beautiful Goddess. Once again we found that our bodies were not our own to control, but responded with immediate obedience to Lady Jet’s commands. This time she had each of us stand before the class, repeating affirmations of our new status and ruling desires. It helped to see other men also the helpless captives of the Lady’s power.

Since we had shown our willingness to surrender, she gave us homework this week. Each of us got a tape of Lady Jet’s instructions to listen to as we went to sleep each night. It was very relaxing to have her voice taking control of me every night. I began to dream vivid dreams of serving and obeying black women. In my dreams, it never occurred to me to resist or argue. Once a black woman made her desires clear, my mind was made up too.

I found that the women I wanted to look at in public places were always black, especially those with strongly African faces and figures. They were so beautiful I felt like I had never seen them before. Other women still looked pretty, but the black ones were so special...Again and again I said to myself, “If that woman wanted me for her slave, I’d be delighted!”

Chapter 4: The Choosing of the Slaves

I spent several hours during the week writing out a description of my personal history, skills and abilities, and dreams and fantasies. As Lady Jet had instructed us, I brought five copies to the next class. Once again the Lady placed us under her power, and molded our minds to make us more suitable for a lifetime of devoted service. Then she led her slaves upstairs to prepare for a tea party.

Four other black women arrived, and sat at their ease talking with Lady Jet and each other while the four boys served. The Lady had dressed to welcome her guests, but we were still nude from our class. I felt uncomfortable at first, as the guests looked over the boys waiting on them and exchanged remarks about our physiques. But then I realized that this situation was as Lady Jet wanted it, and that it was exciting to be so helplessly subordinate to black women. We discreetly looked over our possible future owners, too.

When the women were through with their tea, the boys were dismissed to the kitchen to clean up. There we discussed how awesomely beautiful and powerful the women were, each in a different way. We knew the women were reading our self-descriptions and deciding which slave each would take home to try out. We exchanged guesses about which woman would choose which boy; we all knew that we had no choice about it, and we all found that fact thrilling.

Lady Jet called us back into the living room, and lined us up for inspection. As we stood before the black women judging us, she commanded us to get erections, and we all promptly did. The women circulated among us, touching and fondling us in a proprietary way. Then the Lady asked, “Sisters, these boys are yours to use and take advantage of for a one-month trial period. Have you each decided which one you want?”

The women exchanged glances and giggles, and then each of them walked up to one of us and grabbed him firmly by the balls. I said to the woman who had claimed me, “You are my black Venus, and for the next month I am completely under your power.” I heard my classmates saying the same thing in chorus.

Chapter 5: The Joy of Service

My trial owner Sharonda was a widow about my age. She was about my weight also; in accordance with her preference, I soon learned to call her figure thick rather than fat. She had a pretty face, but her color was so dark that I was not sure of that until I saw her in direct sunlight! She thought at first I was kidding when I said I found her completely beautiful, but my behavior convinced her this was true. Then she relaxed and began to take advantage of me wonderfully.

Sharonda had me keep my own apartment for the time being, and come over to her place every evening for two hours or more of service. As I learned her preferences in matters of housekeeping and personal service, I was relieved to learn that she was a patient teacher. She told me what she required, then rewarded my progress with smiles and praise. By the end of that first month, I became a competent housekeeper for the first time in my life. She allowed me to call her “my Lady” in front of other people, showing her the public deference and complete respect that felt natural to me.

Every evening, she had me get an erection and then lose it several times at her command. Then she allowed me to serve her pleasure, touching her gorgeous body in whatever ways she fancied. She also trained my mind, according to Tantric principles she had learned from Lady Jet, by using a trigger Lady Jet had installed to put me into a completely receptive hypnotic state. Every day, I found myself obsessed with one particular aspect of my owner’s body or behavior, continually thinking about that bit of her and silently praising its perfection. She began by focusing me on her ample breasts one day, then her magnificent huge booty. I was surprised and delighted to find that my focus continued to shift, to her face, her muscular arms and shoulders, her belly, her legs, her hands, her feet, her voice...Everything about her enthralled me, and all of it together made up the gestalt of my irresistible Venus. Loving the taste of her pussy was an early discovery and an expected one. I learned the true depth of her growing control when she got comfortable enough with me to resume personal habits she had developed while living alone for several years, especially picking her nose. I had found this comical and irritating at first; now I discovered that every time I saw her do that, a wave of adoration and desire to serve swept over me.

After a week, we returned to Lady Jet’s house for another tea party and a progress report. The Lady interviewed each boy privately, then discussed what she had learned with his owner. For me, this involved only minor suggestions for improvement in a very satisfying relationship. As we boys discussed the week’s events in the kitchen, I discovered that it was much the same for George; his owner Eva ruled him as firmly and kindly as Sharonda ruled me, and both of us were falling deeply in love with the women who owned us. Seymour described a similar lifestyle with his owner Charlesa, but he seemed frustrated and disappointed. We found out why when Lady Jet came into the kitchen with Ed.

She described the way Beryl had begun with him. Unlike the Lady or her other friends, Beryl was a sadist, with lots of anger toward white men. She had already introduced him to cock and ball torture and public humiliation, and she promised him a future of cuckolding and forced submissive homosexual behavior with black men. Ed had cried as he begged the Lady to release him.

As Lady Jet described this situation, Seymour began breathing harshly and his eyes bugged out. His cock was as stiff as a board as the Lady finished, and he threw himself onto his knees before her. “My Lady, that’s exactly what I want!” he said. “Could we possibly just swap?”

“Different strokes for different folks,” the Lady replied bemusedly. “I’ll ask Beryl and Charlesa, and you will both do whatever they decide, understand?”

“Yes, Lady Jet!” Seymour said this with enthusiasm, and Ed with fearful resignation, but they both said it, and George and I nodded in agreement.

The two women agreed to exchange slaves, making both of them smile. Then Lady Jet led us all down to the basement for a session of reinforcement, focusing the submissive feelings each of us had even more strongly on his current Venus. As the women grabbed us by the balls again, I heard a sigh of relief from Ed and a moan of excitement from Seymour. I wasn’t paying attention, though. There was no room in my mind for anything but Sharonda, and I had no greater desire than to make her happy.

Chapter 6: Permanent Pleasure

Over the rest of the month, Sharonda continued to broaden and deepen her control over me. She worked through the remaining lessons in a book about Tantric goddess worship, rewarding me with incredible sexual pleasure when I submitted to her in several matters of personal preference. The book itself became one of those; I am a constant reader, so I wanted to read ahead and find out what was in store for me. She wanted each lesson to come as a surprise, though, so she hypnotized me and told me that I couldn’t open the book until she said, and indeed I couldn’t. She had me bring the book to her the next evening and try to open it, and we laughed together when I found the book a solid block. After she had finished teaching me its lessons, she allowed me to read the book, and I was pleased to find that I now agreed with everything in it.

Sharonda’s neighbors were beginning to realize that her new white boyfriend was probably a permanent acquisition, and some of them didn’t appreciate that. The women were mostly reconciled after Sharonda had several of them over one evening and explained the basis of our relationship. She demonstrated her control of me in several ways, making me act as a servant to all of the women. They made some derisive comments about me, as well as some traditional jokes like “The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice!” and “Once you go black, you don’t go back!” They seemed pleased for us as well as amused, though, and I didn’t mind being the evening’s entertainment. The attitude we got from the black men in her neighborhood was less accepting and more jealous and hostile. Sharonda did not permit me to react in kind, telling me to let the racist insults from “those ignorant peckerwoods,” as she called them, just roll off me like water off a duck’s back.

When our trial month ended, we went back to Lady Jet’s house to confirm that our relationship was going to last. I was pleased to see that all three of my classmates were also ready to become permanent property. Lady Jet had us sign contracts acknowledging the fact of our slavery to our owners, and promising to pay Lady Jet a training fee proportional to our incomes. She explained that all of our incomes belonged to the women, just as we did, so the $350 a month I would give Lady Jet for the next three years was really what Sharonda was paying to buy a slave. I was delighted to think that I would be working to pay for my own enslavement, but I found that I looked forward even more to paying off the note and being able to turn over all my income to my Venus.

Lady Jet was pleased with my ready acceptance of the financial aspects of my new role in life. “I’ve had to give special hypnotic training to two of you boys to make them understand this. I don’t believe the idea of reparations for slavery will ever work as a matter of tax-paid public policy. That’s why I get a kick out of persuading individual white men to make voluntary reparations by becoming love slaves. You’re glad to be doing that, aren’t you, Jim?”

“I love being Lady Sharonda’s slave in every way, my Lady, and I’ll always be grateful to you for shaping my thoughts and feelings to lock me into that role.”

“Good boy! It’s particularly important to me that Sharonda’s boy should be fully accepting of his place under black women. Have you guessed why?”

“My lady, I’ve noticed that you and Lady Sharonda seem to be even more physically affectionate with each other than the other women you have trained. Is that it?”

“Bullseye! Sharonda always thought she was straight until she met me, but since last year she’s been one of my special girl honeys. How will you feel when you come home sometimes and find her in bed with me?”

Sharonda came up to us at that point, and exchanged a hug and kiss with Lady Jet. She asked, “Sister, what you been doin’ to put that big smile on the face of my slave?”