The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hi! My name is Marianne. I wanted to tell you about an amazing photo session I had a few days ago. It was just incredible—a fantasy, actually. When I think about it, I feel like I should be embarrassed, but somehow it all just seems natural and perfect. It’s a bit odd; but I don’t want to think about that right now.

It all started about a week ago. A girl friend of mine told me about this guy who does photo shoots for girls who’d like to get into modeling. Although he’s an amateur, my friend told me that he’s very talented. The best thing about it is that he does it all for free; he only asks for rights to use any of the photos that he shoots. It really sounded too good to be true. I was a bit suspicious, and asked my friend if I was going to have to do any explicit photos, or anything else to “pay” for the session (you know what I mean, some guys can be such creeps). She said that he was ok and suggested I give him a call. She knows I’ve always wanted to try modeling, so I went ahead and gave him a ring.

The photo session was great. He has a really soothing way of doing a shoot; I couldn’t believe how relaxed I felt. He kept talking to me, and I felt so free and easy as I moved for the camera. The time just flew by! It felt like about 15 minutes, but when I looked at the clock, we had been at it for over 2 hours. At the end of the session, I felt so good; it was so much fun!

I told him at the start that I didn’t want any pictures that were sexual, and he was a perfect gentleman. By the end, I found myself wishing I’d been a little more daring, and asked him if we could do another session, something a bit more revealing. It’s funny, when I first met him, I wasn’t attracted to him at all, but by the time I left, I was noticing how sexy he is, and was feeling rather turned on.

It was several days until our second shoot, and during that time I kept thinking about posing for erotic, revealing pictures. It would be such fun to undress in front of the camera. I have to admit, I had a couple of sessions by myself under the sheets, my thoughts filled with the fantasy of doing a slow, sexy strip-tease. I felt so aroused as I imagined posing for the camera, and displaying my body. I wanted to show myself to him and to the camera. I wanted that so much.

I could hardly wait for Saturday afternoon. When it finally arrived, I was trembling with anticipation. I showed up at his place a few minutes early; I just couldn’t wait any longer. He welcomed me in and invited me to get comfortable, telling me that he had a bit more setup before he’d be ready. While I waited for him, I wandered over to a bookshelf, and scanned the titles. To my surprise, there was a whole shelf on hypnotism.

I have to admit, hypnosis is my secret fantasy. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamed of being hypnotized; it’s such a turn on! I lie alone in bed at night, stroking myself, and think about being hypnotized and turned into an obedient slavegirl. When I saw the hypnosis books, my whole body began to tingle. It was as if someone was running their hands over my skin, warming and arousing me.

I felt so excited; I wanted him to hypnotize me. When I asked if he was interested in hypnosis, he told me that it’s a hobby of his. I asked if he would hypnotize me, but he seemed a bit reluctant. I kept pressing; I was so excited. I know that I shouldn’t have been so eager, but I couldn’t help myself, I wanted it so much. I felt my need, my desire, so strongly, so intensely—I wanted to be his hypnotized slavegirl. I was practically begging him to hypnotize me. Finally, I told him that I’d do anything to be hypnotized. He asked what I meant, and blushing with embarrassment, I whispered that I’d be his hypnotized sex toy.

He placed a hand under my chin, and raised my head so that I was gazing into his eyes. His eyes were dark, compelling, and I could feel myself begin to fall into them. He asked me if I wanted to go deep for him, and serve him, and I nodded silently, while continuing to stare into his eyes. He was talking softly, gently stroking my temples. At first, I was very focused on his voice and his words. I heard him telling me that I felt very relaxed, and that my body was very heavy. I could feel myself responding, each sensation he suggested becoming so real for me. I grew heavy and drowsy. I knew I must keep my eyes open until he gave me permission to close them, although I wanted to so badly.

After a while, things began to fade away. It was like looking down a misty tunnel; all I could see was his eyes. His voice seemed to come from far away. I couldn’t focus on it any longer, but somehow I knew that I was responding to each word. It was such a weird feeling—like being in a dream, but also so aware of him, and of my body. I think my eyelids were blinking, they felt so heavy. I was made of lead, yet floating at the same time. I know it doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it was.

After a while, his voice came back into focus. God, what a sexy voice. I wanted so much to listen to it, to hang onto every word. My eyes were closed now, which made it easier to really concentrate on his voice. I wanted to do everything he told me; his voice was making me feel sooooo good. It was so easy to respond now. He was asking me questions, and I had to tell him what he wanted to hear.

“Yes, I love the sound of your voice. Yes, I want to respond to you. Yes, I feel submissive. Yes, I love feeling submissive. Yes, it feels so good to follow your voice. Yes, I’m so deep for you. Yes, I love being deep. Yes, I want you to take me deeper and deeper. Yes, being hypnotized arouses me. Yes, I love being deeply hypnotized by you. Yes, I’m so excited. Yes, I’m very wet and aroused. Yes, I want to submit deeply to you. Yes, I want to obey you. Yes, I want you to command me. Yes, it arouses me to be submissive and obedient.”

His suggestions were so powerful. Or perhaps they weren’t suggestions, but simply things he was doing to my body; I’m really not sure. I heard him tell me that I couldn’t open my eyes, and he asked me to try. I felt his thumbs very gently but firmly holding my eyelids shut. Or maybe it wasn’t his thumbs, I’m not sure; it was so hard to tell what was real, and what wasn’t. I tried to open my eyes, but he exerted just enough pressure to make it impossible. He told me to try harder, but my eyelids each weighed a ton. I struggled so hard to force them open, but they wouldn’t budge. When he told me to stop trying, I heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed even more deeply.

I felt his hands circling my wrists, pulling them upward. Again, he felt so irresistible. I tried to keep my hands by my sides, but I couldn’t control them. He was pulling them up ... up ... up. Within moments they were stretched over my head. I felt helpless, trapped, deeply controlled. I tried to move my arms, to release myself, but his grasp was much too firm. I was completely in his power. I felt fingertips brushing my nipples. It was the strangest, but most erotic sensation. My eyes were shut, so I couldn’t see what he was doing. The sensations on my breasts were so light, I couldn’t tell if he was really touching me or if I was just imagining it, but my nipples were stretched so tight and felt so tingly.

God, I was hot. I couldn’t believe how much this was turning me on. I knew I’d do anything for him. I began to feel a desire to undress for him. I hoped that he’d use me, make me his sex toy. He was so sexy, and I wanted so much to submit to him and please him. I felt an urge to tell him everything. I began to babble, uncontrollably.

“Oh, this is getting me so turned on—so hot and aroused. I want to be submissive for you. I want to show you my body, and give myself to you. I want to become your slavegirl. Can I call you “Master”? Can I please? I want it so much. I really need it. Can I? Please?”

His hands released my wrists suddenly, and they dropped heavily to my sides. As my hands slammed against my thighs, I felt a wave pass through me—a wave of deep relaxation, and a desire for obedience. My head slumped forward onto my chest. I felt so drowsy, yet so focused on his voice, and my desire to please him. I was aware of my own voice. It was someone else speaking; I watched from the outside. I could hear what he said, could hear what I said, but I seemed to float apart, a passive observer. It was the weirdest sensation, but it felt so great.

“Oh thank you, Master. Yes, you are my Master and I must serve you. Yes, I want to serve you so much. Yes Master, serving you is my deepest desire. Yes Master, serving you is my only desire. Yes Master, it feels sooooo good when I obey you. Yes Master, my deepest thoughts are of obedience to you. Yes Master, please train me to serve you more deeply and completely. Yes Master, please take me even deeper, so I can become a perfectly obedient slavegirl.”

It was almost like when he held my eyelids and my wrists, but now he was holding my mind. I know that sounds strange, but there’s no other way I can describe it. I could almost feel him placing pressure on my thoughts, holding them, guiding them firmly in directions he suggested. Not that I was resisting this pressure and movement. Far from it; in fact, I felt deep pleasure following his lead, as he molded and manipulated my thoughts. My mind felt loose, relaxed, open. I loved having him control me. I was yearning for his commands. It felt so good when he told me what to think, what to feel, and even more wonderful to discover how very, very easy it was to follow his instructions—to do exactly what he suggested.

I noticed a cool breeze on my breasts and thighs. I could tell that I was unclothed, although I had no recollection of undressing or being undressed. I opened my eyes, and gazed up at him from where I was kneeling. I couldn’t remember assuming that position, but it felt so natural and wonderful to be on my knees in submission before him. His voice caressed me, and I could feel my body tingling with arousal. He wasn’t touching me, or at least I don’t think he was, but my body felt as if it were being stroked. My nipples were rock-hard, and I could feel moisture leaking down my thighs. I was ready to orgasm, but knew that a slavegirl must wait for permission. I couldn’t believe it; I hadn’t even touched myself and I was ready to cum.

He told me that I was allowed to ask for what I wanted, and I felt so grateful. “Please Master, let your slavegirl cum. Please, please, Master, I need it so much. I know I must obey, and wait for your signal. Please, let me, Master. Please, I’ll be so obedient. I’ll do anything to please you, my Master. Please, please, please.”

I was so needy. Invisible fingers were lightly stroking my slit, over and over and over again, holding me right on the edge. I began to feel that I’d go crazy if I couldn’t orgasm. All thoughts were gone except for my needs—to serve him, to obey him, to cum wildly. My universe consisted of my throbbing pussy, my puckered nipples, and his eyes burning into me. I was held there, helpless, as I begged, moaned, tears beginning to leak from the corners of my eyes. I had never wanted anything so badly. I knew that I’d do anything—absolutely anything—if he’d only allow me release.

And then, the collar was there, held before me. He pressed it against my nose, holding me in place, hand on the back of my neck. The rich and pungent odor of leather filled my nostrils and filled my mind. I trembled and shuddered as he drew it across my neck, the raw, slightly rough leather scraping my skin lightly, so very lightly. Then the pressure and tension as he began to encircle and tighten. I felt trapped, a captive animal, all my desire drawing to a focus. I want this so much. To be his, to be owned, property, completely subservient. A slave. I wanted to be a slave. His slave. All I could think of was being a slave, and cumming. Cumming for him, as his slave. His obedient slavegirl. Owned. Completely.

The collar was firm around my neck now, holding my head up. Tight. Firm. Controlling. My symbol of submission and obedience. I was so very, very close now. And then I knew. The last step. The final symbol. The push I needed and craved. His hand at my neck. The tension. So close. Wanting it. Needing it. Please. Make me yours. Permanently. Please. Do it. Please. The pressure. The click of the lock. And the release. Cumming. Over and over and over again. Waves of sensation flooding my body and mind. I saw him place the key on its cord around his neck and then tuck it inside his shirt. Yes. He held me. I was his until he released me, if ever. Cumming and cumming and cumming and cumming.

I felt his lips against my ear, and knew that he was whispering into it, but I couldn’t focus. A small vestige of consciousness was aware that he was instructing me, training me, programming me, as I orgasmed. I could feel his words sinking deeply into my open and pliant mind, permanently transforming me, deepening and intensifying my obedience, even though it was impossible to know exactly what he was doing; I was so lost in my own world of pleasure.

His hand on my neck forced my head and upper body downward, while the other hand, wrapped around my waist, lifted my hips upward. He pressed against my moist opening, and I could feel his cock begin to slide into me. It felt so huge, stretching and filling me, as I continued to orgasm. Now that my pussy had something to grip in its rhythmic clenching, the spasms became even stronger. He was deep inside me, moving slowly, so slowly, sliding in and out, the pressure so firm, so intense. I was so wet, so open, so full. And I came, and I came, and I came.

I was on the verge of passing out, yet I couldn’t stop. My body couldn’t stop. I was under his control. Completely under his control. He had told me to cum for him, and I would cum until he let me stop. I had no choice. I was his hypnotized slavegirl—his sex toy. He was moving faster now, pressing so deep, so hard. He grasped both my nipples, and pinched them lightly. I was screaming now, “Yes, Master, yes. Take me. Use me. Fill me. Please, fill me with your cock, Master. Fill your slavegirl full, Master.” He was pistoning so quickly now, so smoothly. And then I felt him begin to pump deep inside my quivering body, spurting into me, over and over again.

I must have passed out. When I regained awareness, I was sitting on his couch, fully clothed. He was sitting beside me, smiling, also clothed. I had a moment of doubt; had it happened at all? Had I simply imagined the whole scene? Then I became aware of the squishy warmth between my legs, together with that lovely “well used” sensation, and knew that it was all real.

I felt a flash of arousal. It was real. He had hypnotized me. He had made me his slavegirl, his sex toy, had used my mind and my body. God, this was so hot! I felt an intense desire to do something for him, to thank him, to please him. I sank to the floor, crawled between his knees, and began to fumble with his zipper. Thinking about it now, it seems kinda weird to me. I’ve never been sexually aggressive; I always let the man take the lead, but I felt a compulsion. I had to have his cock. In my mouth. I wanted it so much.

I couldn’t stop. I felt such intense desire. I wanted to suck him. I wanted to feel him cum. I wanted to obey. I slid my lips over his cock, feeling it lengthen and stiffen as it slid down my throat. I wanted to take him all the way in. I had to. It’s my job to please him. It’s what I’m made for. I began to suck, slowly sliding up and down his hard shaft, making sure I went as deep as possible on each down-stroke. I needed to thank him for hypnotizing me. I need to. Need.

I wanted to feel him cum so badly. Maybe if I took him even deeper. I had never deep-throated a guy like this before. But I wanted it so much. The compulsion was so strong, so irresistible. Deeper. Oh god. Please, please, cum for me, I thought. My throat was so open, and so relaxed, as I slid all the way down on each stroke. It felt so good. I knew that when I tasted his cum, I was going to orgasm again. Please, cum for me. Please give it to me. Please. Please. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

I was spasming wildly as I drank his hot liquid. It tasted so good, and I could feel it making me orgasm. I wanted more and more and more. I sucked and sucked, until he began to soften, and then I sank to the floor, exhausted.

After a long, long time, in a fuzzy stupor, almost asleep, I began to rouse. I settled myself on the couch next to him, and gave him a long, slow, warm kiss. He looked at me with those deep, sexy eyes of his, and I asked if he’d want more with me in the future.

“I’d love to be trained by you. I want you to hypnotize me, more and more deeply, and teach me to serve you—teach me total obedience. I want to become totally yours. Would you like that?” He assured me that it would be his pleasure, and we smiled at each other.

I asked when he’d like to see me again, and he told me not to worry about it. I’d know when it was time to return. He suggested that I just let go, and not try to resist any compulsive urges. I smiled as he said that, thinking about how turned-on I’d be anytime I felt the effects of his hypnotic control.

We kissed at the door, and then I was driving home, my mind in a whirl. I still can’t believe this happened. And when I think about the fact that at some point, I have no idea when, I’ll slip into a trance and return to him, to do his bidding, I get so hot! Just thinking about it now is getting me so horny. I hope you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of myself.