The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Prologue.

Apologies to Mr. Browning for the title but my owner cannot resist even a bad pun and I do enjoy pleasing him.

Well, to start with I hated the little beast, for what he had done to me and after I had helped him: it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. Over the years though this broad has come to change her thoughts somewhat regarding a certain gnome.

This is not starting at all as I intended. I wanted to make this a simple and enjoyable tale, but maybe it’s my disorganised nature, I realise this is far from coherent of clear. Were I to read these opening paragraphs, written by another, I would by now have decided that the authoress was having a blond moment and probably stop bothering with the rest of the tale. Well my hair is red and I will endeavour to be more apposite and organised from here on in.

The only way this is going to work is if I try to detach myself and tell the tale in the third person.

Chapter 1: Introductions

This tale is centred round three people: Dave Pritchard, Noel Davis and Marie-Clair Reynard. At this time our protagonists are young and in their first year at University somewhere in the southwest of England.

Marie-Clair was just nineteen, petite, five-two at a stretch, with long red hair that when uncoifed would hang to the top of her particularly pert buttocks. Marie-Clair was from a wealthy family, third generation English, though most of her relatives were French. She was basically a good and caring individual, but her easy access to money, good looks and privileged background, usually let her down and she was often a right royal bitch. Had she been American or this an American university, it would be destined that even with her diminutive size she would have to become the Cheerleading captain. As it was she was certainly and ‘it’ girl.

Dave Pritchard, Pritch to all, was large and athletic. At six-four he was an imposing specimen. He was a typical hard drinking, rugby playing, girl chasing medical student. He had and easy way with people, plenty of friends and acquaintances and seldom slept alone. He was one of nature’s lovable bastards, there was no real malice in him, but he was basically selfish. Still, because of his friendly, open and non-threatening manor he survived a lifestyle completely lacking in monogamy, without seeming to make enemies or put off future conquests. Girls knew where they stood with Pritch, those that weren’t looking for short term fun, or who did not wish to be another notch on the belt chose not to accept his advances. Pritch never resented this or tried to ware a girl down, he simply moved on to the next.

Noel Davis was something of an enigma. He had a genius level IQ was not unattractive physically: just under six foot with an athletic build and good strong features. With his few friends he was social, likeable and fun, but for the rest of humanity he was an untidy nerdy social outcast. At university he was principally a social outcast, since his only friends were a few like-minded individuals that he had met during his studies and of course, Pritch. Pritch and Noel had been friends since kindergarten and despite their being chalk and cheese would almost certainly remain friends for the rest of their lives. To add to this Noel had one enemy: Marie-Clair.

In her early teens Marie-Clair had briefly gone out with Pritch and it was then that she had met Noel. Pritch had been Marie-Clair’s first romantic encounter and it was very hurtful for her when she realised he did not return her intensity; she had quickly dumped him. Just subsequent to this Noel had embarrassed her in front of her friends by talking to her and asking if he was going to see her at Pritch’s place. Noel never knew what he had done to earn Marie-Clair’s ire and she no longer really remembered, since the truth was that whole thing had nothing to do with Noel really, he was just a convenient whipping boy: she was a young proud girl, feeling hurt and humiliated at the end of her first romantic encounter and Noel was convenient to take the blame. It should be added that Noel did not see Marie-Clair as an enemy he had worshipped her from afar, since he had first seen her. Her enmity was forever a cross for him to bear.

Chapter 2: The Gnome

It was a crisp cold February morning and Pritch was out jogging along the river bank. He became aware of something ahead it was a small track-suited figure sitting on a tree stump. He recognised that red hair, the look of displeasure.

“Well if it isn’t my old friend Marie-Clair.”

“What do you want bastard?”

“Charming.”

“Look I don’t like you or that noisome pest you call friend, so why don’t you pollute the air some place else?”

Pritch was enjoying this; winding Marie-Clair up, had been one of his favourite pastimes ever since the day she and he had split up. He was just considering some suitably caustic rejoinder when he heard something – it sounded like a cry for help. Marie-Clair moved her head she must have heard it too.

“It sounds like it’s coming from behind that bush.” He said pointing away from the river bank.

Marie-Clair nodded and they both moved quickly to look behind the bush. Marie-Clair was just in front of Pritch as they came to the bush. Suddenly she screamed and took a step back as a large swan came towards them hissing and flapping its wings. Pritch grabbed Marie-Clair under the arms and literally lifted her from in front of him, he then waved his arms and shooed the Swan away. It was then that they noticed a strange creature lying at the base of the bush.

“Ugh it looks horrid, what is it?” Marie-Clair asked.

“Buggered if I know, it doesn’t look hurt, though.”

“I’m not an it, I’m a gnome.” The creature said as it stood up.

To look at, the creature was filthy and smelly; it was sort of man-like in shape though only about eighteen inches tall. It seemed to be wearing clothes, but was so mud-caked that no more that that could be discerned. Neither Pritch nor Marie-Clair said anything, they were completely shocked.

“Well you saved me, so thank you.” The creature went on.

“I don’t believe this – this is not happening.” Marie-Claire announced with no real conviction.

“I am here and I have said thank you.” The creature replied.

“Thank you for what?” Pritch asked.

“The two of you came to my aid and I am trying to thank you.”

“Gnomes don’t exist.” Marie-Clair responded.

“Oh Bugger, well if you won’t accept my thanks, now I have to repay you for your aid.” The creature expounded.

Pritch was beginning to get a grasp on things. “You’re saying that you are a real gnome and that you must repay us for saving you.”

“That’s right you each get one wish.” Then looking at Pritch, he went on: “you get the first wish.”

Marie-Clair bristled at this. “Whatever happened to ‘ladies first’?”

“Look I am one of the fey folk, we don’t care two figs for your modern idiocies: in my world females know their place. If you want a wish, you’ll follow the rules and since I’m granting the wishes they are my rules.” The creature replied grumpily and then to Pritch “So what’s it to be then?”

“I don’t believe any of this, but it sure sounds fun. I know what I want; I want her as my sex slave.” Pritch replied pointing at Marie-Clair.

“It will be so once she has asked for her wish.”

Marie-Clair wasn’t just mad she was spitting. She could see that Pritch was playing this for laughs, but she wasn’t so sure that was the case with this gnome thing.

“Hey that’s not fair. I helped too and his wish hurts me.”

“No it doesn’t – it couldn’t or I couldn’t grant it those are the rules.”

Marie-Clair was not happy, but she felt she needed to know what was happening. “What rules?” she asked.

“Well you each get one wish. You can’t undo each other’s wishes and no wish can hurt or change anyone in a way that that person would not want.”

“Well I don’t want to be a sex slave.” Marie-Clair screamed at the creature.

“Not true or the wish couldn’t have happened.”

“Well he would be a fickle master he doesn’t stay with the same girl for more than two nights.”

“That’s covered by his wish.”

Pritch stopped grinning at this point. “Hey what do you mean little man?”

“She’s right. For your wish to be workable you will find that you are looking to settle with the right girl and before you ask, yes you do want to really or your wish couldn’t be granted.”

“Bugger that – I’m taking that wish back, I think I want something else instead.”

“Too late – one wish each and yours is granted.”

“Well I wish not to be a sex slave.” Marie-Clair interposed.

“Sorry no can do. That’s against the rules you would be undoing his wish.”

“Well could I wish to have him free me?”

“Yes that would be allowed, but you would still be a sex slave and would fall under the spell of the first reasonably decent man you met – I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Surely that’s undoing my wish?” Pritch asked.

“No she would be your sex slave for a second or two and then her wish would come into effect and you would have to free her – that’s allowed.”

Pritch was looking worried now. The whole thing had been a joke at first, but now he wasn’t so sure. He certainly didn’t like the idea of long term relationships and it was looking very much like Marie-Clair was going to cheat him out of his compensation.

Marie-Clair was even less happy than Pritch, his stupid wish was going to really fuck up her reality. Marie-Clair was good at thinking on her feet and suddenly a partial solution occurred to her.

“Ok how’s this then? Can I wish that he gives me to someone else and choose that other person and make it part of the wish that he can’t tell the other person that I have been given to them and that he can’t tell anyone including that other person that I am a sex slave?”

“Yeh – that’s workable, so long as you choose someone safe, otherwise the wish can’t be granted.”

“Would Noel Davis be allowed?”

The creature looked thoughtful for a second. “Yes.”

“Ok that’s my wish.”

“Done.” So saying the creature disappeared.

Pritch, her owner and Master, she now realised, looked like he was undergoing an inner battle and loosing. He stated to speak. “Slave Marie-Clair I give you to Noel Davis, you are now his sex slave and bound by obedience to him.”

“Yes Master.” She found herself replying.

Suddenly her mind was clear again Pritch was just a guy, nothing else.

“You bastard, shit-head …” She would have gone on, but she was now crying too much to continue, she moved towards Pritch and started hitting him as hard as she could. He gently fended her off until her immediate uncontrollable anger had run its course.

“Look I’m sorry for what its worth. I was playing the whole thing for a joke I never believed it was actually real.”

“Easy for you to say fucker, you’re not the one that got turned into a sex slave.”

“No, but you parleyed your way out of that, we both know Noel’s scared of you and that so long as no one tells him, he will never know, thus leaving your free. I, however, am going to be forced to stop playing the field – I think I came off worse in the end.”

Every time Noel was mentioned she was aware of his ownership, Noel was definitely best not thought about. “Maybe you did come off worse, who knows? One thing is for sure though, you wasted two perfectly good wishes, you stupid arrogant bastard.”

“You’re right and I said I’m sorry. Look that’s all you’re going to get. I’ve had enough I’m going back now. I’ll escort you if you want, the choice is yours.”

“Escort me – Ha! If I never see you again it will be too soon.” With that and without a backward glance she started jogging back towards the hall or residence that she, Pritch and Noel all shared. She just hoped that she didn’t see Noel, since they both had rooms on the same floor, though mercifully in opposite wings of the building.

Chapter 3: What Happened Next

Marie-Claire had made it back to her room and was now showered and changed. Her hair was hanging straight down her back held by a simple white suede alice-band that matched her very expensive but seemingly casual white suede dress. She had agreed to meet Karl for lunch. She was not currently in a relationship, but has found herself attracted to Karl a handsome German exchange student. It was strange though, she did not feel right about this meeting now. It wasn’t that she was meeting him, it was that she realised now she couldn’t let this go further. That was strange Karl was definitely her type: quiet, commanding, handsome, polite and just the slightest bit exclusive. Well she was going to go out, she decided, her negative feelings were obviously down to this mornings shenanigans; it was no wonder she was feeling less than ready to start another relationship, when she considered the one with Pritch that she had just avoided. So thinking she mollified herself and proceeded towards the student union and her lunchtime tryst.

“High Marie-Claire, you look beautiful.” Karl said standing as she approached.

“Thank you. I hope I’m not late.”

“No I was early.”

It was no good this wasn’t working: he was attractive, but she shouldn’t be doing this. She wasn’t meant for him – she did not belong to him, that was it: she was private property. Blast that bloody Pritch she thought. I might be able to stay free, but I can’t date or have relationships: that bastard has really loused up my life.

“Look Karl, I’m sorry, but I am going to have to go. I’m suddenly feeling a bit sick.” She lied.

He knew she was lying, she could see that, but he was too much of a gentleman to call her on it. So she was safely away and on her way back to her room without a scene.

By the time she got back to her room she was feeling very sorry for herself. What the hell was she going to do? She did not want to spend the rest oh her life as a Nun. She wasn’t driven by sex, but she enjoyed relationships and she wanted to find someone and be happy – she deserved a future. She was crying again and now she couldn’t see to put her key in the door. She dropped her key. Her mascara had run now and in rubbing her eyes, she had managed to get some makeup into them and she couldn’t open them.

“Marie-Claire are you alright? Can I help?

“No I’m not and I’ve dropped my key – sniff – please leave me alone, I’ll be fine.”

“Here take this.”

Someone was offering her a packet of tissues. She managed to get one out and was able to clean her eyes enough to open them. Oh shit! It was Noel, just standing up after retrieving her key for her.

“Dank You.” She blubbed as he handed her her key.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“No I’m not – I’m upset. Things have happened and I am not happy.” She hadn’t meant to say anything so why had she answered so truthfully?

“Look I know you and I aren’t exactly friends, but you look like you could use some help, big time, and whatever you may feel about me you know you can trust me, so why don’t you come back to my room with me now and we will see if we can’t sort his out?”

There wasn’t a reason that she could think of and whilst his suggestion wasn’t exactly an order, she didn’t think she could say ‘no’ in her present state so she nodded and said “thank you.”

Noel was thinking something had happened; his guess was that she had been assaulted or at least badly frightened, so he was careful not to touch her unless she initiated the first contact.

Marie-Claire was in a daze, she was in part grateful that Noel was taking the initiative, she was so upset that she really couldn’t think what to do. There was another side of her that was simply terrified: this was Noel, her owner she really didn’t want to become a sex slave – a few hours ago she had a life and now – oh God it was too awful to bear.

“Here we are then sit yourself down. You’ll have to forgive the mess, I hadn’t intended entertaining. Look you take a few minutes to catch your breath and I’ll put the kettle on and make a pot of tea.”

Almost mindlessly Marie-Clair sat herself down and looking around at the room saw books, paper and oddments of clothing both clean and unclean strewn around. What was that he said, tea? Yes that would help.

“Ok let’s give that a few minutes to brew.” Noel announced cheerily. “How do you take your tea?”

“Little milk, no sugar, please.”

“Right you are. Coming up.”

Noel handed Marie-Clair a mug of tea and then sat on the bed facing her.

“Look Marie-Clair I don’t know what happened and it is probably none of my business, but you look to be in a bad way. I don’t mean to be indelicate, but has someone done something to you: have you been attacked?”

“No I haven’t been attacked, but yes something has happened to me and it has upset me.” She paused then went on. “I don’t think anyone can help, I just need time to understand.”

“If it’s time you need then you take time – I was just concerned. I’m not trying to give you a hard time.”

She could see that he was trying to help. She felt touched by his concern. She knew deep down that she had never given him a fair chance and she felt really humbled by his very real attempt at aiding her.

“Thanks Noel. Thanks for the tea and sympathy. I don’t disserve it, not from you at least, but thanks all the same – you’re right I need it.”

Noel felt that Marie-Clair was sounding a little more her normal self and hoped that if nothing else they might be more friendly after this. She was so beautiful, especially now she looked so lost and vulnerable. There was something about her that made him want to protect her. He was staring he was sure, but she hadn’t said anything.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener and I don’t gossip.”

She sipped the tea, it helped. “No I don’t think I’m ready to open up just yet, but I am grateful not to be alone.”

“Ok I can handle that. Tell you what you make yourself comfortable, put some music on, watch the box, sit and think whatever and I’ll work on my coursework. When you feel ready to face the world or just to talk you tell me and we can take it from there.”

She knew he had meant it as a suggestion, but it was couched as an order so that was what she was going to do. Of her choices she felt that music was the best and went to check his CD player. There was a disk in it: Gianni Schicchi. She was surprised, she had never taken Noel for an opera buff. She loved Puccini and ‘O mio babbino caro’ was probably her all time favourite aria. This CD was good she just pressed play. As the music started, Noel looked up.

“You can pick something lighter, you don’t need to go with my choice.”

“Thanks but no – this is one of my favourites. I’m just waiting for ‘O mio babbino caro.’”

“I’m impressed, but I never had you down as a Daddy’s girl – just don’t go jumping off any bridges if you can’t marry the man of your choice.”

“You’re perceptive, perhaps my problem has a parallel with Lauretta, but I’m not looking to buy a wedding ring. My problem has more to do with there not being a Rinuccio and never likely to be one.” Why the hell was she telling him this.

“Hey easy there. You’re nineteen not ninety. Life’s not over. It’s a little early to be saying you’ll never marry isn’t it?”

“That’s just it. I have just found out I will never be able to fall in love and marry.”

“I know you are upset, but doesn’t that sound a little absolute?”

“Yes and it is.” She responded with quiet finality.

This was not good, he had to talk her round, he was sure now this was some kind of depression.

“Come on you said you were like Lauretta. Her Dad didn’t say no – he helped her, he even sorted out Rinuccio’s family.”

“Well I don’t think anyone can sort this one out.” And she started to sob again.

“I think you should tell me what has happened, then maybe we can put our heads together and find a way through this problem.”

That was it: now she had no choice she would have to tell him.

“You’re not going to believe me and I don’t really want to tell you, but you asked so here goes.”

Chapter 4 : A Sex slave Revealed

Noel just listened, at the very least she had expected him to ask questions and show disbelief, but other than offering encouragement, when she faltered and positive reinforcement when she managed to get through the more difficult parts, he just listened.

“And that’s the story.” She said with a defiant sob.

Noel looked back at her, still showing concern. He was almost visibly choosing his words.

“Well I’m not going to say I don’t believe it – that would be pointless you obviously do and I can see that you are terrified by the prospect.” He paused, then continued. “I don’t know whether you know it or not, but I’m reading for a BSc in Artificial Intelligence and a fairly extensive chunk of my course is given over to cognitive psychology. I know that doesn’t make me a psychiatrist or a clinical psychologist, but it does give me some insights into how the brain works. My concern is that whether this is real or not, your belief in it is enough to make it real for you.” He looked at her and then asked: “are you with me so far?”

She nodded and he continued.

“In many ways it would be safer if it were real and you didn’t believe it, that would at least ensure some limits. Your belief structure whether this is real or not will in effect serve to erode any limits that might or do exist. The first thing we need to do is to impose some limits to protect your personality and thought processes.” He looked at her expectantly.

“You going to have to speak a language I understand, if you can’t manage English I’m fluent in French.” She was feeling a little safer, his obvious concern was giving her some hope.

“Pardon mademoiselle; mais je ne parle pas français” He said offering a diffident smile.

“Well English will do then, if you think you can manage it.” She replied offering a brave half-smile of her own.

“Ok what I am saying is this: if your mind believes something, whether it is true or not, your mind can make it true based on the belief. This is what is sometimes called the power of suggestion and its part of the reason why hypnosis works. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Alright. Well what I am inferring from this is that if we extrapolate an open ended belief structure then we can …” He stopped, then continued. “Sorry, I was dropping into gobbledegook again wasn’t I?

She nodded again, with a slight smile and he continued. “What I am trying to say is that if your mind decides there are no limits then there won’t be whatever the reality of the situation is. Now I think that is particularly dangerous, because I could inadvertently say something that you take as a command and this could serve to drastically change you. For instance if there were another girl sitting here called, for sake of argument Mary-Claire and she thought, as you do, that she was my sex slave. Then if I was to say to her ‘Mary-Claire you’re a stupid girl, all you want is for someone to tell you what to do, you can’t make any decisions for yourself’ she might well take that as an order and become stupid and loose the ability to make decisions, when my intention had only been to berate for acting stupid and being indecisive: do you see the danger?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes I think I do, but what can we do about it? I am a sex slave.” She was looking very scared again.

“This: Marie-Claire listen to me, this is a direct order from your Master, which will remain in effect, unless explicitly cancelled by me and only me. From now on regardless of what I say to you, or order you to do, you will not allow your core personality to be changed or subverted, save where your informed consent has been given, received and understood. Do you understand and will you obey?”

“Yes Master.” This was a direct order, she had no choice, but then she was glad to comply with this order.

“Good. Now Marie-Clair this too is a direct order that will remain in effect unless explicitly cancelled or modified by me. From now on you do not need to comply with casual, possibly unintentional commands. You can be wilful if you wish. Minor disobedience is possible, but you will have to comply with direct orders. Do you understand and will you obey?”

“Yes Master” She answered. This order perhaps did not go far enough, but she did recognise that again Noel was addressing her needs: he was not abusing the situation.

“Right then, I believe we have established some limits, so it now should be safe to start dealing more directly with what you have just told me.” He looked at her expectantly; she looked back, he was going to have to continue.

“Forgive me Marie-Clair, but I don’t really believe this. I think you do, either that or you’re a bloody good actress. Anyway I think you have been duped or possibly hypnotised into believing this is true.” Again he waited hoping she would reply.

“No it is true: Pritch is a BF not a Svengalli and if he was involved do you think he could keep quiet about this kind of joke for so long? Come on he’s your friend you know him as well as anyone.”

“You’re right, this isn’t Pritch’s style. Sure he enjoys winding you up, but he’s not malicious and, oh hell I don’t know, but yes as soon as he stopped being the Master the joke would have lost all fun for him. You are right he’s a bloody fool not a sadist. Ok so I can’t explain your story. Perhaps the next thing to do is to go find Pritch.”

“Please not that. Don’t make me – I think I’d die if he were to start ordering me about.”

“Calm down Marie-Clair, he can’t order you about, not according to what you’ve just told me and he can’t talk about any of this to anyone else. So let’s go find out what he thinks and then we can take it from there?”

“I would really rather not.”

“Ok, so you’re embarrassed and a little scared, but you of all people should want to sort this business out. Are you going to come?”

“Alright.” She answered quietly.

Marie-Clair was looking like a scared school girl who had just been told that she was going to see the headmistress. She really didn’t want to see Pritch. She was sure that he would want to get Noel doing things: making her do things. So far Noel had been the perfect gentleman, but would that last once Pritch’s imagination was factored into the equation?

Noel was struggling with his own thoughts as well. Marie-Clair was his ultimate fantasy. Just getting her to acknowledge his existence would have been beyond his wildest dreams a few hours ago, and here she was now telling him that she was his sex slave and that she had chosen him as her Master moreover. Ok she had chosen him, because he seemed the safest and least threatening option, but, hey, that was good too: at least she trusted him. There was a definite part of himself that was talking to his dark side, suggesting that he was never going to get a chance like this again and that he should be taking more advantage of the situation. He knew, however, that that was never going to happen. In his sexual fantasies he was always the dominant one, and yes his imaginary partners were usually slavish, but they were also willing. There was something fundamentally wrong with rape, and Noel knew that he could never force Marie-Clair, unless he knew that she wanted him to.

By now Noel had led the reluctant Marie-Claire down to the floor below and they were just outside Pritch’s room. He knocked.

“Piss off whoever you are.”

“Pritch it’s me, Noel I’ve got Marie-Clair with me. Come on mate, open up.”

The door opened. Pritch was standing there, looking more than a little dishevelled in his creased T-shirt and jeans.

“Come in then.” He offered morosely.

Pritch, as has been alluded, had a selfish streak a mile wide. Even now his main concern was that he did not like what the gnome had said had been done to him. He was still fairly sure the whole thing had been some sort of prank and that nothing had really happened, but he needed some proof. But wait a minute, this was Marie-Clair, if she was free and not a sex slave then maybe he wasn’t changed by the gnome either.

Noel got straight to the point. “I guess you know why we are here? Marie-Clair has told me what she remembers from this morning. Forgetting the obvious fact that you’re a cruel heartless bastard, did you see this gnome and did he really grant you both wishes?

“Yes and yes. And I’m not heartless. I didn’t believe the gnome was for real, my wish was only meant to be a joke.” Pritch admitted, then developing a theatrical leer he went on. “Don’t tell me you haven’t taken advantage of the situation. Surely you have at least examined the goods.”

Noel blushed, but answered quickly. “No of course I haven’t. She’s a human being and a very scared one at that. I don’t think even you would be such a cad as your suggesting. Look I don’t believe this wish business. Even given that there was a gnome-thing, we don’t seem to have any direct evidence that these wishes were actually granted.”

“I do.” Pritch replied with quiet conviction.

“What?”

“Immediately after the gnome disappeared, I told Marie-Clair that I was giving her to you. Believe me I didn’t do this intentionally and I tried as hard as I could not to do it, but I did. That’s proof for you, subjective I admit, but proof none the less.

“So if you want more proof order Marie-Clair to give me her bra.”

Marie-Clair was looking distinctly unhappy at this suggestion. It had now dawned on her that the only objective proof that they could obtain would be by virtue of ordering her to do certain things that she wouldn’t normally do.

“Come on Pritch don’t be such an arsehole, It was five years ago she dumped you, how many girls have you dumped since then?”

“Ok truce. Sorry Marie-Clair, but you know I’m right. If we want proof then you will have to be ordered to do something you wouldn’t willingly do.”

Marie-Clair was obviously on the verge of crying again. Noel was aware of this and replied quickly. “That’s a fair point, but I’m sure we can think of some less threatening tests. I know, Marie-Clair may I try something, I promise you wont be doing anything harmful or of a sexual nature?

“Ok.” She replied with all the verve and frivolous exuberance you would expect from a Trappist monk at a funeral.

“Marie-Clair pretend to be a dog.”

“She was trying to resist, but she knew this was a direct order, so she quickly did as she had been told.”

“Here girl,” Noel ordered, whilst patting his leg.

Marie-Clair crawled towards Noel’s legs. When she was right alongside he said “Sit!” in his best Barbara Woodhouse voice. Marie-Clair knelt down sitting back on her haunches.

“Pretty and impressive, but it doesn’t really prove anything. That might be embarrassing, but it’s not so bad that it is something she couldn’t bring herself to do.” Pritch offered with a slightly supercilious tone.

“You’re not being exactly nice are you? That said, I think you’re probably right.” Noel took a deep breath then steeling himself said: “Marie-Claire Crawl over to Pritch and sniff his crotch.”

A look of abject horror came over Marie-Clair, but she didn’t say anything, she just whined like a stricken cur and slowly and reluctantly crawled towards Pritch who was now sitting with his legs open.

Just when her nose was about eighteen inches from its unwanted target, Noel called peremptorily. “Stop Marie-Clair cancel the last order. You no longer have to pretend to be a dog. Go and sit down and we can continue our discussion.” With a look of total relief, which more than matched Pritch’s look of chagrin, Marie-Clair backed away from Pritch got up and went and sat down.

“Sorry about that Marie-Clair, but I had to give you an order that would be totally abhorrent to you, and you had to believe I meant it. I’m really sorry, I know that must have been very difficult.” Noel declaimed with a sincerely apologetic mien.

“’s ok, I suppose at least you stopped me.” Marie-Clair replied dejectedly, her manner and bearing looking for all the world like a scolded child, who realised that she was well over her head in trouble.

This was too much for Noel his guilt coupled with a desire to comfort the one who had been the object of his desires for so long finally became overwhelming he had to do something. Currently he and Marie-Clair were seated on Pritch’s bed, he at the foot and she at the head, just below the pillow. Almost with out realising he moved until he was sitting as close as he could to Marie-Clair; he put his right arm around her shoulder and said: “cheer-up little girl, we’re going to fix this: no one’s going to hurt you I promise.”

He wasn’t ready for what happened next. Marie-Clair turned towards him, put her arms tightly round his neck and burying her head in his shoulder began to sob. This wasn’t just a gentle cry, her body was wracked with deep painful sobs: Niobe-like there seemed no end to her tears. Noel at first felt the inadequacy of his response. He just gently patted her back and stroked her hair softly speaking phrases of comfort as one would to a child, such as: “there there”, “we’ll make it better” and such-like. As he did this he felt her responding; the deep shuddering was getting less the sobs seems shallower and strangely though her discomfort hurt him deeply he found the act of cuddling and comforting Marie-Clair intensely satisfying.

Pritch was sitting there slowly rocking and mumbling. “Oh shit, oh shit, I am a bloody arsehole.” It had finally dawned on him that this wasn’t some giant jolly jape. Marie-Clair wasn’t some stupid girlie who couldn’t take a joke. She was a deeply frightened person who was having to face a life sentence for a crime she hadn’t committed: no a crime he had committed he corrected himself.

Noel hearing his mumbling looked his way and said accusingly: “The penny’s finally dropped has it? Well about bloody time. Do something useful, pass me a toilet roll, she’s going to need to blow her nose and wipe he face in little while.”

Marie-Clair was beginning to calm down. Noel was quickly becoming a constant, in her suddenly jolted existence. How could she have been so wrong about him? Ok he was nerdy, untidy and socially shy, but he had an inner strength and a core of utter decency. Maybe he wasn’t exactly her type, but if she ever got though this she was going to count him as a special friend. Right now she was finding his gently strength very comforting, so much so that she was reluctant to let go, despite how uncomfortable his shoulder was becoming as it became soaked with her tears and the leakings from her nose. Finally she seemed to stop sobbing and pulled her head back from Noel’s shoulder; as she did he reached in with a some scrunched-up toilet paper and began to dab at her eyes and to wipe her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She said as she finally let go of Noel’s neck and took the proffered roll of toilet paper.

“Marie-Clair I’m sorry – no more bad-taste jokes I promise.” Pritch stated with uncharacteristic sincerity.

“Well you’re not bloody forgiven and don’t make promises we both know you won’t keep.” She replied with justifiable petulance.

“Thanks Pritch, but I don’t think we are getting anywhere. All we seemed to have done is convince ourselves that Marie-Clair really is acting as though she were my slave. I think perhaps we should all take some time out and get back together later when we are all a little calmer and we’ve had time to think.”

“It’s easy for you to be so collected – there’s only an upside to all this for you. Perhaps you’ll get a chance to satisfy that fantasy of yours, you know, the one where Marie-Clair looks after you dressed as a french maid.”

Noel went bright red. “Thanks for that mate. Marie-Clair was right about you making promises you couldn’t keep, wasn’t she?”

“Hell man, Marie-Clair I’m sorry that one just slipped out, I am trying – honest.”

Marie-Clair got up looked across at Pritch and said. “Have you never heard that when you are in a hole it’s best to stop digging? Come on Noel let’s go.”

Noel stood up as well and opened the door for Marie-Clair and followed her out.

“Marie-Clair about that fantasy; guys discuss girls it doesn’t mean anything. I wasn’t going to do…”

Marie-Clair put her finger to his mouth and shushed him. “Noel it’s alright. I don’t mind. Girls know that guys have fantasies and hell I’m sure I feature in far more extreme fantasies than that.”

Guilty as charged thought Noel. “Yes but you didn’t need to hear that then.”

“It’s ok, truly. I don’t think I want to be on my own just yet. Can I make you a tea?”

“Ok, thanks.” And Noel followed Marie-Clair back to her room.

As they walked back Marie-Clair couldn’t help stealing glances at Noel. He really was quite buff, she found herself thinking. I’ll have to sort that room out and his clothes! Well there was no excuse for his clothes. Noel was on a generous scholarship package, no student loan or parental handouts for him, she knew he could afford to dress properly and like it or not he was going to. Oh and she would have to do something about his hair. Hold on girl she suddenly thought. Noel and you aren’t an item and that’s not the plan. Maybe she would make a project out of Noel when all this was over: the guy certainly disserved that, but for now let’s just sort out the present.

Noel drank his tea and made sure that Marie-Clare was ok and left telling her that he was going to check back in a couple of hours, just to make sure she was alright.

Chapter 5: Time to Think

Marie-Clair was feeling horny. It was ridiculous. She would expect her emotions to cycle through the full gamut given the sort of day she’d had, especially since she was decidedly premenstrual, but not horny – that wasn’t normal, but normal or not there was no getting away from it she could feel her breasts tightening, her nipples were getting hard, she had that feeling in her centre: there was a building need. Without thinking she threw herself on to the bed and started to roughly fondle her sex. Her clitoris was quickly engorged, she could feel the fire building, she was moving without conscious thought carried on a glorious tide of sensation towards that island of blissful release that was dictated by her suddenly animalistic passion. She was quickly building towards her crescendo her whole being was becoming focussed on her need as her skilful fingers played their rudely urgent tune, her entire sensory system was moving towards glorious overload as the harmonics of her need resonated with her paean of desire. Soon…soon; she was almost there, she could feel the boundary, her body was vibrating as its approached its sexual nirvana, yet try as she would there was no release. Slowly with a heavy heart she gave herself to her frustration and stopped. Yet even in her frustration there was a feeling of need-fulfilled her body felt more deeply alive more lasciviously sexual than at anytime she could remember. She was indeed a finely tuned instrument of carnal pleasure she just required a skilled conductor to bring forth the necessary level of virtuosity to ensure the performance she craved.

As she came down from her almost-high, she began to analyse what had happened. She should be bemoaning her state, but strangely she felt positive. She knew her body was capable of orgasm, it was just that such joys were not hers to experience as of choice: these pleasures must be gifted, they were no longer hers to take. Oddly this no longer seemed wrong or unfair, she found that embracing this aspect of her being was actually stimulating. It added to her sexual longing, it made her need more intense. For true sexual enjoyment there must be a depth, there had to be a spiritual component that was beyond the purely animal passion. In this heightened state of sexual almost-fulfilment, this exalted state of joyful frustration, she finally accepted what her body and spirit would no longer let her to deny she needed to be owned, to be controlled.

The catharsis that had led to this moment of sexual satori had, she recognised, begun when she had cried herself out on Noel’s shoulder. In her need she was beginning to admit to herself that her sexual being was centred on Noel. It was no longer a question of whether he was her type, her type was her Master and he was her Master it was that simple.

She quickly decided that there was one new certainty in her life. She wanted an orgasm and she wanted one now. Well the only way she was going to get one of those, was to get a certain gentleman to give her one, and the only way that was going to happen was if she could convince him to stop being such a gentleman.

A plan was forming. First a shower then there was that costume, the one she hadn’t worn to the ‘Fresher’s Ball’; it had been just a little too much and anyway she had looked stunning as Marie Antoinette even if that corset had nearly suffocated her.

Chapter 6: A Little French Polish

Noel was trying to read, not very successfully. He wanted Marie-Clair, but there was this problem with his damned conscience. Every time he thought about Marie-Clair he was only adding to his arousal. So far he had avoided masturbation: her beauty and proximity made such a recourse seem just too sleazy. It was Marie-Clair he wanted not his five fingered sexual substitute and the knowledge that she could be his so easily was almost too much to bear.

There was a knock at the door. Not now he really wasn’t feeling sociable at the moment!

“Who is it?” He called.

“Pardon Monsieur, it is I Fifi.” Came the reply in a thick and very feminine french accent.

He opened the door and there was Marie-Clair garbed in a curiously thick overcoat. She stepped into the room shedding her coat as she entered and there she was suddenly dressed in the briefest sexiest french maid costume that he could ever wish for and by some magic holding a feather-duster that must have been concealed under her coat. He was literally speechless.

Marie-Clair was very pleased with the effect. She quickly knocked the door shut with her hip and continued with the act.

“Please Monsieur Fifi will clean zee room now, n’est ce pas?”

Still stunned silence.

“Zee Master he must sit down if zee maid is to clean zee room.”

As Marie-Clair advanced, Noel stepped back and was soon forced into sitting stunned on the bed.

“Zee Master, he does not look well. Je pense que… I zink that zee Master perhaps needs a ‘how you call it?’ a bloo-job?”

“M-m-marie-Clair?” Noel stuttered weekly.

Marie-Clair approached and knelt in front of Noel.

“Monsieur who is this Marie-Clair? Ah but it is no matter Fifi will take care of this little problem.” Marie-Clair said suppressing a giggle as she reached for Noel’s zipper. One quick glance upwards and she could see that Noel’s gentlemanly ways had lost to her wanton charms – victory was hers. Ah c’est la guerre; vive l’amour.

Epilogue

Well if you haven’t already guessed I’m Marie-Clair Davis. I’m very happy with my lot. Noel and I are good together and he rarely if ever has to exercise his authority over me except for our mutual fun and it still gives me a wonderful feeling down there between my legs to realise that I am owned.

Pritch is happily married now as well, in fact everything seems to have worked out for the best. It’s strange, because if Pritch had got his wish unmodified by mine none of us would have been happy. Pritch might have wanted a sex slave, but though his ideal woman needs to tend towards submissive and nurturing, there are times when Pritch needs her to throw obedience to the winds and give him a good kicking until he sorts himself out. Neither he nor I would have been happy if I had become his sex slave. The gnome was right though, I do need to be owned – to be a sex slave, I just don’t want to be treated as if I am owned all the time: Noel is perfect for me and as my story shows I think I’m perfect for him too.

I guess that bloody gnome knew what he was doing, but for all that take this advice: if you are out and about, don’t go looking for a gnome away from home.