The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cathy felt like she was walking on air as she went home that day. Tom had finally asked her out. He was everything she wanted in a man, handsome, considerate, trustworthy, commanding, funny, smart, and it made her hot just standing near him. Cathy told her mom almost everything as soon as she got home. She left out the most embarrassing part of how her pussy had reacted.

Mom was impressed when she heard the name of the restaurant. It was beyond the means of a family living on a preacher’s salary. Together they planned what Cathy would wear for her elegant evening. Mom opened an old sealed clothing box. She took out a red satin gown that was almost perfect for the occasion. It was old enough to be back in style now.

I protested when she held it up to me, “It shows too much.” It was cut so low, I declared, “I’ll feel naked wearing it. How could you ask me to wear such a slutty looking dress?” Mom pulled out a little wrap and said, " You can wear this over it. This gown is very elegant. Are you saying your mother dresses like a slut?” I apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’ll try it on.”

Mom looked appraised the result, “I used to have a figure quite similar to yours Cathy so a minimum of alterations are necessary.” The most distressing problem was that Cathy’s ample bust was much bigger then her mom’s. I was insistent, “Mom, I look like a high class call girl. My breasts are practically hanging out. The beaded wrap is lovely, but so translucent that everything revealed by the dress looks indecent. I won’t wear this!”

Mom sat down next to me and said, “My Little Baby Now a Beautiful Princess needs to look sexy and alluring so Tom will want her. She was right of course, Tom was special, I agreed, “A beautiful princess needs to look sexy and alluring so Tom will want me.” I focused entire on her words, “I promise everything will look fine before your big night. Besides you have to use honey to catch flies.”

Mom checked the calendar to see, “How long I have to make the alterations.” I thought I heard her mumble some nonsense about, “Perfect, exactly 10 days after her period.” When I asked, “What did you say?” She replied, “It’s perfect timing with another project dealing with the tenth century Renaissance period.

Even with alterations and without a bra, the gown pushed up and emphasized Cathy’s breasts more than any other dress she’d ever dared to wear. They went to buy matching shoes. Mom wanted 5″ heels. Cathy had never worn more then 2″. They compromised on 4″ which would make her almost as tall as Tom. Mom called it, “A good kissing height.” The problem was that being unused to 4″ heels, Cathy swayed and tottered in a way that made her copious breasts undulate like Jell-O. She insisted on wearing a bra even though her mom said it wasn’t necessary. It made her feel a little less exposed.

Cathy thought the dress was inordinately revealing, alluring, and daring, especially for her. However after talking to mom, she realized that what she needed to catch an exceptional man like Tom. She felt better that the gown had more conservative pleated skirts that reached to her shoes. There were also two side slits that reached up to the waist. Mom made a comment about “easy access”, but wouldn’t elaborate. It was strapless and back-less above the waist. The remaining paper-thin material molded to Cathy’s every feminine curve. The satin had a wickedly sensuous feel that sent shivers up Cathy’s spine each time she moved.

Mom had always hinted about being a wild young thing before she got married. This gown was the first real evidence Cathy had seen of the truth of that statement. Cathy kept alternating by admiring how sexy she looked and refusing to be seen in such scandalously revealing attire.

The Preacher had similar, if more forceful comments based on seeing the gown on a hanger. Finally, the fact that money was tight and they couldn’t afford any alternatives decided the issue in favor of the red satin gown. If the Preacher had actually seen Cathy in it then she would have never been let outside the house.

The big night came. When Tom arrived he had to endure the traditional grilling of the boyfriend. He passed, but just barely. Tom’s family were regular churchgoers with a good reputation. However, there had been some trouble with Tom’s uncle some years ago that the Preacher refused to speak about. Mom stalled with last minute adjustments that kept Cathy upstairs. Fortunately, the Preacher had to leave on church business before Cathy came downstairs.

When Cathy made her entrance, Tom’s jaw hit the ground. She looked like a princess. It was only the second time since the High School senior dance that Cathy had worn a strapless gown. She was still uncomfortable with the way the push up bra emphasized and revealed her breasts. The translucent beaded wrap she wore only accentuated them.

However, when she noticed the effect it had on Tom, Cathy decided that her mom had been right. Cathy raised her hand to cover her mouth and stifle the giggle that threatened to break out when she saw his thing getting hard at the sight of her.

Tom treated her like a lady. He arrived in a limousine, gave her a corsage, held open the car door for her and was attentive to her every need. It was like prom night all over again. He jokingly called her my beauty and my princess. Unwilling to let this go on unanswered, Cathy made her own jest by calling Tom “my lord and master”. Tom seemed to enjoy this more then she had expected. Soon almost every sentence began or ended in this fashion.

When we arrived at the restaurant, the waiter recognized Tom. I was impressed that we were seated almost immediately. Tom helped me sit like a real gentleman. I thought to myself, “I loved being catered to this way. It had never happened before on any other date.” After I sat, he pushed in my chair. Suddenly, I felt a cool breeze on my shoulders. Tom had deftly removed my wrap exposing both my back and my entire décolletage.

I looked up and tried to protest, but he interrupted me saying, “My princess, you must let every man here see that I am with the most beautiful girl in the world. This is very important to me.” He looked so determined that I felt that refusing him would somehow spoil our entire evening together. So, I lowered my eyes and playing along whispered, “Yes, my lord and master.”

It was the correct choice. Tom made me feel like a queen. He lavished me with endless compliments and let me order anything I wished. My menu didn’t even have prices on it. He told endless jokes that were not quite dirty. They made me laugh and blush at the same time.

Should I be insulted the way he seems to be undressing me with his eyes? Well what did I expect dressed like this? I thought about asking for my wrap. Instead, I decided to take it as a compliment. I felt my nipples growing hard and sensitive. It was uncomfortable against the hard surface of this type of bra. I didn’t think he could see anything through the bra, but needed to make sure that not too much was showing.

After we had ordered, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. Tom jumped up to help me out of my chair. I adjusted myself as best I could considering how snug the bust was. It was still too much. At least my hard little nips that refused to go down didn’t show.

When she returned Cathy saw that Tom had ordered the one wine that Cathy was familiar with. She had not seen the small packet of white power that he had mixed into her drink. He had waited until she was busy in the ladies room.

Tom proposed a toast to her beauty and how lucky he felt to be honored with her company. Of course, she could not refuse. Besides Cathy knew that a single glass of wine would not affect her.

Sometime after I finished the wine, I found myself totally focused on Tom’s eyes. His voice was so soothing. I felt that I could listen to it forever. There were so many soft words, but I can’t seem to remember them. Only a warm, soft, sleeping feeling.

Suddenly I startled. I fell asleep for a second. I feel embarrassed, but Tom is gracious and refuses to be insulted. I vaguely remember feeling that my hand weighed 10,000 pounds. I couldn’t move it no matter how hard I tried, but its fine now.

Once more I became engrossed in the sound of Tom’s wonderful voice. I felt so relaxed and safe. I knew I could trust him with anything. Tom’s questions became more personal. I found myself telling him things I’d never told anyone. I never masturbated. I was still a virgin. I had never had an orgasm. How I let boys touch me. How it makes me helpless. All the submissive dreams and fantasizes I had late at night alone in her bed. How he was my dream Master.

Tom stopped me when I mentioned how my mom always seemed to be able to convince me of stuff even when I was totally against it to start. He questioned me closely. At some point I mentioned the game we played. How she called me her, “Little Baby now a Beautiful Princess,” and how I always played along with the game. He went over each time I remember playing this game in detail. Then he began asking about my dad and I described how until recently he’d always played such a dominant role in my life. I still obey anything he said immediately, at least while he was there.

Tom praises me for each revelation. I can’t seem to hold anything back. Isn’t it strange for me to act this way? What’s wrong with me? Suddenly, an image of a gigantic penis pops into my mind and I feel a desperate need to suck it. The image disappears as suddenly as it came. Tom is staring at me and asking “Are you OK, princess?”

I feel confused and embarrassed. Where did such a lewd image come from? I try, but can’t deny my powerful reaction. “Look at me,” says Tom and begins to softly whisper to me again. I feel overwhelming gratitude at the genuine concern and caring I see in his eyes.

What had she been thinking about? It slips away from her. Anyway, it isn’t as important as the overwhelming feeling that I can trust Tom completely. I want to please him by being obedient. I will entice him with my body so he is compelled to own me and keep me forever. I need Tom to know these things. If I’m not totally honest, obedient, and carnal for Tom then I could lose him forever. Wait I think, I can’t become a wanton slut even if it means losing Tom.

Suddenly, there is a sharp pain in my gut at the thought of losing Tom. Once again I excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room. I need to find out what is wrong with me. On the way I almost fall when the pain returned suddenly mere at the thought of not obeying and pleasing Tom. When I question this odd behavior the gigantic cock reappears with the need to suck it. It quickly disappears with all of my self-questioning thoughts.

My aroused nipples were becoming increasing painful against the hard surface of the special bra I wore. I had to do something about it. Stopping at the bathroom mirror, the girl I saw wasn’t sexy enough for my Lord, Tom. Then the solution hit me. I can kill two birds with one stone. I remove my bra and stuff it into my purse. When I place my boobs back in my dress the sensuous satin material brushes against my nipples. They extend even further.

There are now two easily visible bumps against the material showing how sexy I feel. I will no longer let this bother me like a little girl. Instead, it makes me feel wonderfully wicked and I somehow know it will please Tom.

Returning from the ladies’ room I feel the eyes of many men on my now bra-less breasts. One big part of me is screaming to run back and put the bra back on. I’ve never done anything like this before. In fact I’d been 11 years old the last time I went anywhere outside without a brassiere. When I arrive at the table I know I made the right choice. Tom’s eyes immediately zero in on my chest. I feel the heat from his gaze ignite my nipples into fiery hard points.

Instead of helping me sit, Tom asks me to dance. I ‘m afraid of being embarrassed. Do I simply obey or assert myself? He should know why. I tell him, “My Lord, I never learned to dance even when my best friends offered to teach me. Since I was little dancing has made me feel awkward and uncomfortable.” I look up into his eyes and press myself against him, trying to use my body to convince him.

Tom insists. I feel his gaze bore into me. Then unexpectedly it comes to me that with him leading I can dance well and will love it. This is important to him and I really want to be pleasing. Even so, I’m a little surprised that I agree so easily. Tom is just so ... mesmerizing.

Tom whisperes, “Thank you, princess.” Then he bends down and kisses me. The world around me dissolves. I feel my right foot pop up on its own, just like in the movies. I don’t know how long that timeless moment lasted, but when he brakes that kiss I’d let him lead me anywhere. Have I fallen in love with Tom so quickly?

He wraps his arm possessively around me and guides me forward. We join two other couples on the small dance floor. It is a slow dance and Tom draw me against him. My tits are pressed against his broad chest. I feel the heat of his body through the thin material. The slow movements as Tom leads me around the dance floor cause my aroused nipples to shoot undeniable signals deep within.

Tom takes advantage of the back-less dress. His hands travel up and down along my naked spine, massaging as he moves. Somehow, that redirects the signals from my boobs straight to my clit. It feels so good, but should I ask him to stop holding me so closely? This is not the way proper girls are supposed to dance on their first date. What will he think of me?

Just then I see someone I know. It’s one of the benefactors of our church! His wife is with him giving me a very disapproving look. What if word gets back to mom and dad about the way I’m behaving? What can I do without ruining the entire evening? My brain is foggy from the wine. It slows the pace of my thoughts. Torn between two bad choices, I can’t decide what to do. The hot signals from my tits gain the upper hand with had the predictable effect. I sigh and feel my body melting into Tom’s. I no longer care who sees me acting this way. I’m immersed in that now familiar sexual feeling. I’ve relinquished control of my body. He can now do as he wishes.

Tom feels Cathy relax. Taking this as a signal, his hands lower from the spine to the perfect half moons of her ass. Delicately he caresses the soft curves. Sensing no resistance, gently he guides and maneuvers until his hardened cock rests against her moistening slit.

They dance this way while Tom whispers into her ear. His hypnotic voice burns into her sexually charged thoughts. Deep within her mind Tom begins breaking down barriers and refocused her deepest desires in new ways that converge on him. The white powder and her profound arousal lower her normal resistance to the point that the most deeply held beliefs can be redirected as he desires.

Perhaps more important, Tom discovered all of the hypnotic triggers and post-hypnotic suggestions left by Cathy’s mom. He was quite impressed and used many for his task, but left all in place and erased any signs of his tampering. This makes his work so much easier and faster. It enables him to accomplish in half an hour what might otherwise have taken days. He will now take the time to fashion his own work so that it can not easily be detected let alone used by another.

Cathy’s deep fear of the Preacher and damnation undergoes transferal to fear of displeasing and losing Tom. Her needs to give and receive trust, love, comfort, and intimacy are reoriented the same way. To fulfil her secret dreams of submission, she must now take on the persona of his slave. Her natural shyness and modesty are eliminated. Now she’ll be comfortable with nudity and exhibitionism will be a turn on. When Tom finally breaks the embrace, Cathy can not remember a single word he said, but feels closer to Tom then anyone else in her entire life.

It was then that I knew without a doubt that I was desperately and totally in love with Tom. I would do anything for him. I had never believed in love at first sight, but now I had been captured by it.

The music ends. Tom guides me back to the table and seats me just as he did before. He prompts, “My Beautiful Princess Now Passionate Slave, tell me what you need.” It was a new game that I now knew how to play so I answered, “This passionate slave needs to be pleasing and obedient so her Master will never send her away.”

I listened intently as he began giving me a new idiom of expression. When he is done he asks, “How you feel.” I know what he means and the type of language I must use to please him. “Master has made his slave’s nipples hard and her pussy wet. She wants to hold your hard cock and feel your hands on the soft skin of her secret places, touch my passion and make it burn. ”

It was like I was another person. I was saying things that I would have been horrified merely to hear only yesterday. My breasts were now a rack, tits, boobs, hooters, jugs, funbags, headlights, or shirt puppies. My vagina was now a pussy, cunny, cunt, snatch, slit, honeypot, hotbox, or fuckhole that juiced for my Master. Instead of derriere, behind, buttocks, or posterior, it was now my ass, rump, butt, or tail and contained my asshole, bung hole, or dirt road. Making love was getting fucked, laid, screwed, boinked, nailed. Before I would never even say penis, now it was cock, dick, dong, schlong, lance, spear, or cunt-splitter. There were many more such terms that would now please my Lord and arouse me to hear or speak.

Then he asked, “Are you wearing panties, my princess?” With trepidation, I replied, “Yes, my Lord. My mother gave them to me. They match my gown.” Tom said, “That displeases me. However, I am pleased that you removed your brasserie on your own initiative. You will now remove your panties and place them in my hand.”

For a moment, I couldn’t believe what Tom had just asked me to do. The onrushing need to be pleasing blotted out those thoughts. I ask his permission, “May I please go to the ladies room?” Tom refuses saying, “My Beautiful Princess Now Passionate Slave, you are never again to wear either bra or panties outside of your house.” Perfect, I thought that would entice Tom to touch my tits and pussy as often as possible so I answered, “This Passionate Slave will never wear either bra or panties outside of her house.” I awaited his command that was “You will remove your panties here at the table, and quickly my beauty. Being without panties will arouse you and make you’ll become submissive. You’ll let me touch your naked pussy any way I wish because that’s what you want.” I reply, “Yes, Master.”

I hurried to obey. My twisting and turning caused several people to look at my antics. I know that my face turned beet red. Somehow, I managed to get them off. I arranged my gown so that the fluid seeping from my ever-moistening slit would not damage it. It felt strange sitting directly of the velour fabric covering my seat. I began slowly opening and closing my thighs to feel the smooth fabric against my skin.

When I place my panties in his hand he sniffs them and smiles. Of course, they are soaking from our intimate dance. My arousal is obvious. If it is possible, I turn redder still. At the same time, I feel my arousal grow. This treatment, this exposure is turning me on.

I look in Tom’s eyes and see that he already knows how the submission and exposure affects me. Hadn’t I just revealed my deepest secrets to him a sort time ago? Then he smiles and approves saying, “Thank you, my beautiful princess.” Immediately, I feel a little better. He gathers me into his arms and kisses me. Once more, all other thoughts vanish. I press myself against him. I have pleased him. Everything will be all right.

As we kiss, I feel Tom’s hand slide through the slit in my gown. It rises slowly, teasingly along the inside of my thigh sending shivers through my body. Tom breaks the kiss as we both gasp for air. Then he resumes his kiss on my eager lips. The hand between my legs continues. My thighs spread themselves, easing the way for him. His hand stops when it rests on my naked pussy. Now I know what my mom had meant about easy access.

He begins rubbing and teasing my slit. It’s good that he’s not broken our kiss. Otherwise, I could not restrain the passionate cries would be heard throughout the restaurant. This is wrong. I know I should stop him, but I can’t. He’s treating me like the horny sluts I’ve seen in the movie theaters. I’m no better then them. I want him to touch me this way. I need to feel his fingers on my hot cunt.

Tom knows now I am a masochist, a born submissive. His torture begins. I’m brought to the brink of orgasm, my hips thrusting against his inciting hand. Despite my desperation for release, Tom changes his motion in a way that forced me away from the orgasm that is so agonizingly close.

His strong hands block each and every one of my weak attempts to assert my own will. When my arousal is finally abated to the point I can think rationally, he begins once again. I am forced back up the ladder of arousal. I think it happens much quicker this time. Either he’s learning my body’s secrets or I’m becoming attuned to his touch.

Four times he brings me to precipice of climax. Each time, despite my desperate need to leap, I am forced away from the cliff. He whispers, “Your hot young body is like a priceless violin that I will play as I wish.” I can’t help but agree.

After the last time, I am exhausted. I can’t stand on my own feet. Dessert arrives. Tom makes sure I eat and drink to regain my strength. What more is he planning? My thoughts jump ahead to the end of the evening. They’re filled with erotic images of what might happen in the driveway of my house.

It’s not early, but my parents have allowed a later curfew for this special evening. So, our night together is young. Tom pays the bill. I blush and lower my eyes at the look the waiter gives me. How much has he seen and heard? When I stand there’s a large wet spot under me. I cover it with a napkin, pretending it’s a water spill. However, the distinctive aroma of my arousal proclaims the truth to anyone with a working sense of smell.

My bra-less boobs bobble and bounce as we left the restaurant. I see many men staring openly at them. Should I try to hide? No, I should be proud of my body. It makes me hot. It was only when we got out into the cool night air that I’m allowed to wear my wrap again.

Instead of going back to the car, Tom wants to go for a walk. It’s invigorating not tiring. Every few minutes, Tom gathers me into his arms for another ethereal kiss that might be on my lips, cheeks, eyelids, neck, earlobes, or tits. I love them all.

Finally, we crossed a bridge over a small stream. On the other side, were a few small bungalows. They were part of the hotel owned by Tom’s Uncle. Tom produced a key and opens the most isolated bungalow. I hesitate. This is not the safety of my driveway with my mother protecting me. Anything might happen.

Seeing my reluctance, Tom kisses me again. Our mouths open to let our tongues play. My dress shifted downward during our walk. His hands easily find my vulnerable nipples under the wrap. Holding each between thumb and forefinger he uses them to quickly render me tractable. Pressing me backward step-by-step until I lay back on the room’s king-size bed. The door closes behind him with a little click.

After tossing my wrap to the floor, he trails a line of hot kisses down my neck, ending at my breasts. Already out of my dress, he squeezes my tits together while continuing to rub each nipple with his thumb. Lowering his head he takes both large nipples into his mouth at once and begins sucking. The effect is immediate and unstoppable. The lust Tom had fanned in the restaurant comes back redoubled, rendering me helpless. Any desire to be elsewhere drained out of me. My head rolls back as a constant stream of moans came from my mouth.

Once he sees how helpless I am, Tom changes tactics. He lifts my skirt and dives between my legs, knowing his target. Now eager for his attack, I spread my thighs wide like the sluts my dad preaches against. Am I any better? My body is becoming a slave to lust.

No longer did frilly panties guard the entrance to my secret place. I had surrendered them to my Lord and Master. My delicate charms were undefended and ready to be breached. My conqueror has arrived.

Tom’s mouth covers my hot, naked slit. I cry out when I first feel his tongue on the center of my desire. It is like nothing I’d ever experienced. My thighs spread wider to give him maximum access.

In less then a minute, with but a few caresses, my Lord has completely mastered me body and soul. The chaste Preacher’s daughter is transformed into a wanton slut, a captive of her basest desires.

I am eager for him to once again propel me up the mountain of arousal. Once we arrive at the summit, I’ll beg him to conquer me completely. I don’t care if I’ll be dammed, I need what only he can give me.

Then he is kissing me again. The taste of my arousal is on his tongue. I lick it curiously then with more fervor. His hands cup my heavy tits, tweaking each nipple between thumb and forefinger. I keep squirming to push them into his grasp.

Tom broke the kiss and looked at her helpless writhing form like a hungry wolf. Between the white powder, the hypnotic commands that broke down her barriers, the almost continuous sexual stimulation, and her own natural lust, she was now ready for the next step.

He says, “Beautiful Princess Now Passionate Slave needs to become a true slave now and forever.” Finding my voice, I breathlessly answer, “This Passionate Slave needs to become a true slave now and forever.” I await my commands, “You will formally declare yourself a true slave, a natural slave then beg me to be your true and only Master. Only once you are owned, once you are property, will your burning desires be fulfilled. Only a slave may truly know love. She is the most desirable of women.” I needed to reply, “Yes, Master, command me.”

He directs, “Remove the remainder of your clothing, take these two coins, and kneel on the small circular floor mat with your knees spread.” It feels like my dreams only better. Quickly, I do as instructed. I hold myself proudly in the knowledge that I am desired, head high, shoulders back, tits thrust forward, legs tucked under my thighs, knees spread to reveal my glistening pussy.

I begin repeating the phrases of my enslavement, “I Cathy Goodhead, of my own free will and without reservation or need for evasion declare myself to be a slave. I have known I am a natural slave for many years in my thoughts and dreams. Now I need the reality. Once enslaved, I am subject totally to the will of my Master who owns everything I have, everything I am, and everything I may become. With these two silver coins, I sell myself into slavery forever. It is irrevocable except at my Master’s pleasure. I now beg you to accept my slavery and be my Master for as long as you desire.”

I waited as Tom considered my words. He walked around me, inspecting the slave. Would he reject me? Wasn’t I a man’s fantasy, a willing slave girl? I grew afraid. What if I was not the first? Did Tom have other slave girls more beautiful, more carnal, more pleasing, or more submissive? I tried to straighten further, lifting the line of my breasts, and project desirability. If there were others, I would scratch their eyes out! The seconds ticked by like hours. Finally, I felt Tom tighten a leather choker around my neck and say, “I accept you as my slave. This collar marks you as my property.”

I almost collapsed to the floor in relief. My new Master lifts me up to rest on the bed and asks, “Do you wish to please me slave?” “Yes, my Master.” She whispers, “More then anything.” He promises, “I will give you all the pleasure you desire, but you must learn the first two ways of the many ways to please your Master, first with your lips, then with the dance.” I reply, “Teach me, Master.”

He says, “I have need for relief so first I will teach you how to give head, pleasuring my cock with your mouth. The slave whispered, “Command me, Master.” Tom instructed me how to carefully remove his cock. How to lick the balls and the shaft and how sensitive the area around the head was. I learned about sucking it and swallowing his release. If I did well he would do more for me. I was well motivated.

I began licking his balls, the hairs tickled my nose. I licked up and down the shaft, teasing the tube underneath. Then I took the head of his cock between my lips, swirling my tongue around and around. With a sigh, Tom stopped his instruction and lay back. This was a good sign that I was doing it right. I began bobbing my head up and down taking more of his cock each time. Tom began gently thrusting forward. I tried to match his rhythm. His thrusting became faster and faster. Then he grabbed the back of my head and thrust his huge cock all the way in. It began to spurt liquid fire down my throat. I tried to swallow it all, but there was so much that it leaked out of the corners of my mouth.

He said, “Beautiful Princess Now a Passionate Slave loves everything about sucking cock.” When Tom pulled out, I was able to say, “This passionate slave loves everything about sucking cock.” I listened intently to see how I could better prove that. He said, “My come is the most wonderfully thing you’ve ever tasted. Each time you swallow it, you need it more. It keeps you healthy and beautiful. Always improve your cocksucking skills.” I replied, “Yes Master.”

I licked my lips trying to get every last bit of his tasty come. Then I bent down and licked his shrinking cock clean. He praised me, “You’ve got a natural talent, my beautiful princess. You make me very happy. With the help I give, you’ll develop into the best cocksucker ever.” I felt so good that I was able to return some of the great pleasure that he’d given me. I answered, “Thank you Master.”

I wondered how long until he could do it again. Tom was exhausted. I kept squeezing his wonderful cock, hoping it would get hard again soon. I thought about my tiny pussy. It seemed impossible that when it was hard, his huge thing could get in there without hurting me. Before I could continue those thoughts, Tom recovered and said, “I love when you squeeze me like this. It’s a wonderful thing to do whenever we’re relaxing alone together. However, now it’s time for your next lesson.”

Tom turned on some music. It was slow and sensuous. He handed me clothes made of a gossamer thin fabric of a belly dancer and bade me to dress. Once so attired, I was told to stand on the same small circular mat and directed thus, “Begin to sway your lovely hips. Feel the music move your body. Let it control you.”

I did all as instructed. Tom had me do a slow striptease before him. He choreographed each piece of clothing each movement. I was his puppet, displaying more of my body with each command. What was I becoming? The moral standard to which other girls in the community were supposed to emulate was dancing like a nightclub stripper. Yet I loved feeling his eyes on me and had no wish to stop.

He made sure my tits were in constant motion. Tom liked when I bent over and they swayed before me. I was commanded to lick my fingers and use them to pull at my nipples until they were diamond-hard points. He had me shake my ass lewdly only inches from his face then spread my cunt lips until he saw the pink inside. The feeling of being totally controlled was making me hot, wet, and weak with desire. Towards the end I could barely stand. With the last piece of clothing I fell naked into his arms.

My Lord ran his hands possessively over my skin, lingering on tits and ass. Tom was pleased, “You were a marvelous vision of carnal delight. Never be satisfied for a slave must always strive to become more sensuous, more helpless, more desirable for her Master.” The warm glow of his approval spread through my being, “I will, always for you Master.” His touch stoked new life into my limbs and fire into my loins and said, “Now it is time for your reward.”

He continued, “Beautiful princess Now Passionate Slave, when you feel my tongue on your hot little pussy you will orgasm.” Eagerly I echo, “This passionate slave will orgasm when she feels your tongue on her hot little pussy.” I listen very carefully to what follows, “Quickly it will be followed by another orgasm even more powerful. Each time you will recover quickly and strive for the next orgasm. Many more will follow, each more powerful then the last.”

He dives between my legs. I wear not a stitch of clothing that might impede him. When I feel the first lick of his tongue against my cunt, I climax so suddenly that my head snaps back hitting the headboard of the bed. It was a small one, but a portent of more to follow. His hands are on my thighs now, pulling me closer to my destiny, stroking up and down my legs as he begins to eat me. His tongue keeps licking and swirling against my swollen labia. I howl like a she-wolf, being used by her mate. Again, I climax more powerfully then before, but my body needs more. My hands drift down to rest on the head between my widespread thighs. I press his face against my dripping twat as he continues to feast on my sex.

Then comes the final attack. His mouth latches onto the top of my pussy cave, and he begins to suck on my clit. My legs tremble, and I groan desperately as his tongue works me into a sexual frenzy. He just keeps sucking me and licking me until I can not stand it anymore. My eyes close and my mouth opens wide. I let out a long scream so loud I’m amazed the windows do not shatter. I am sure that someone has heard and will soon come running, but I don’t care.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for the intensity of that moment. There are three more explosions in rapid succession. I keep on groaning as my body convulses, pussy spewing hot cum onto the face of my young lover.

He just keeps eating me. Now more slowly each new climax builds and breaks more powerfully then the last. Finally, with one last piercing cry, my body has had enough. My eyes roll up and I pass out with Tom’s enchanted tongue still licking between my legs.