The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Seven thirty-two A.M.

Yawn

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Shelley opened her eyes and stretched. “Morning, Master,” she murmured sleepily. “Is it time to get up?”

I grinned back at her. “No, not yet. Just lie back and relax.”

She sighed softly, sliding back into the mattress. “Mmmmmm. Touch me.”

I chuckled softly to myself. My sweetheart was always asking me to touch her. Not that I minded in the slightest, as it fit perfectly in with my plans. Still... “Are you sure, loveling?”

Writhing slightly, she reached out a hand towards me. “Touch me!” she begged again.

Shrugging lightly, I reached out a hand, stroking her cheek. She gasped, eyes fluttering, then closing, a soft smile creasing her lips. Watching her carefully, I waited a few moments, before leaning forward to kiss her neck gently, nibbling. Shelley cooed, snuggling back against me. Moving up to her ear, I whispered softly, “Ten.”

Her reaction was immediate and predictable. Shelley’s hand reached out, catching mine, clenching it tight. Her skin flushed, and breathing hitched. Eyes that were lightly closed clenched tightly shut, and a spasm ran lightly through her body as she came. I continued to whisper softly into her ear as she writhed, telling her what a good girl she was, how pleased I was at her response to my touch. She heard me only subliminally at this point, as her mind and body were otherwise occupied.

After a few moments I decided to break off contact. Sliding my hand out of her grasp, I sat there, waiting, as she gasped for breath, slowly coming back down. I waited a few seconds, then reached over, gently touching her forehead. “Five.”

She relaxed again, settling down nicely. After a few minutes, the soft restful sounds of her snoring filled the room. Yawning myself, I pulled her close and closed my eyes as well.

Eight fifty-seven A.M.

“UUuuughhnnn”, Shelley moaned, turning over. Her free hand whipped around with the motion, slapping me hard in the side of the head. As usual, I was instantly awake. Groaning, rubbing the side of my head lightly, I turned back to face her. During the past hour or so, we had shifted positions; no longer spooning one another, we had separated, no doubt our combined body heat leading each of us to seek out the cooler edges of the bed. Sitting up slightly, I glanced about the room.

Sunlight poured in from the shuttered windows, bathing the walls in their light. I grimaced slightly at the color scheme. Shelley had decided on a warm, pleasant atmosphere for the bedroom, with spring colors, a golden butter-yellow, and a soft pale pastel green. At night, it wasn’t so bad, but with the light shining, the room accomplished the relaxing, peaceful mood she’d aimed for, and more. Shaking my head, I glanced back at my sleeping, snoring beauty. Deciding she was deep enough, I flattened myself back into the bed, slid my legs toward the edge, and carefully maneuvered myself towards the floor.

“Ughn! No! NO! Don’t go!”

Whether from a dream she’d been having, or her preternatural, superhuman location senses, Shelley flailed in my direction, her hand latching onto my arm, gripping me tight. “Shit,” I said softly, halting my advance, slowly moving back under the covers. Her arm, cool and soft, warmed with the contact, and her squirming and writhing settled instantly into serenity.

Damn. There are times when I hate having her so well conditioned to my touch.

Taking a deep breath, I lie back, gently stroking her hand. A devilish thought crosses my mind, and I lean forward and whisper a number into her ear.

“Twenty-five.”

Asleep, this time the reaction is muted. After several moments of my hand stroking hers, Shelley’s lips open, and she sighed, licking her lips. She rolls over onto her side, facing me, sliding a bare leg against my own. Her momentum brings her other arm around, and it lands across my chest, sliding into place, holding on tight. Effectively bound, I nevertheless had total access to my sleeping girl. Sliding one hand south, my other hand left her arm and began a slow, gentle course towards her right breast.

Shelley is usually very ruddy, very freckled all over, but summer was a long way off, and spending most of her time covered from the winter chill had left her skin very pale. I was able to follow the physical flush of her skin as my fingertips glided, spider-walking across her soft tender flesh. Meanwhile, my free hand had worked it way between the cleft of her thighs, easily accessible with one of her legs now threaded between my own. Both hands reached their destination simultaneously, my forefingers circling both her nipple and her clit. Shelley moaned deeply, her chest rising, her body attempting to gain more attention, more pleasure, more sensation... her hips moved as well, her body’s natural reaction of closing her legs, forcing my hand in deeper, thwarted by the captivity of her right leg between my own.

I watched her face the entire time. It was a ‘sort-of’ game we sometimes played, my teasing and testing her body, trying to push her as far as I could without waking her up. Sometimes it worked, but not often—Shelley was a very light sleeper—and sometimes I woke her instantly, but she continued to play along, knowing I intended to make her cum at the end. Staring at her face as she writhed in pleasure, I was hard pressed to tell whether she was awake or not. Well, there’s always one sure way to know for sure.

“Fifty.”

Now her eyes sprang wide open. No longer pretending, she reached out, clenching me tight against her. My cock, already in ‘stand-by’ mode from the play, and the stream of constant moans at my touches, went to fully active. My fingers parted at her crotch, three of them penetrating her wet dripping snatch as my thumb found her hard throbbing clitty. A shudder went through her, not the big orgasm I was pushing her towards, but enough of a precursor that she pulled my head towards her own. Her mouth found my own, and we kissed passionately, in part from the overwhelming feelings I was invoking, and partly to keep ‘little ears’ from hearing what was going on in our bedroom. I pulled away after a moment for a breath, grinning at the wild expression on her face.

We both knew I could silence her with a word, let her scream to her heart’s content without her uttering a single syllable, but I felt more delight in making her squirm, forcing her to use her own self-control in order to avoid a potentially embarrassing situation. I knew it, and, staring into my eyes, she knew that I knew it. Her hand pinched my side, letting me know that she understood what I was doing, but I merely returned the favor by smirking back in her face, and speaking a single word.

“Sixty.”

The shudders came then, her mouth surging forward, barely managing to muffle the deep heartfelt groan with my neck as she bit down hard, sucking. In that aspect, I goofed. Among the many fetishes we share in common, one of the best—and for me, at least, potentially, the worst—is her Vampire fetish. Few things excited my Shelley as much as my use of the ‘vampire voice’, my hypnotic eyes, and the feeling of my teeth scraping lightly against her skin as I sucked hard enough to bruise flesh. She, in turn, loved to reciprocate, and in her emotional state, I thought for a moment it would go beyond play to literally ripping out my jugular and sucking me dry!

Luckily, I came away with only a very noticeable hickey and claw marks from her nails. As she panted, gasping, basking in the afterglow, I reached out to stroke her sweat-stained brow. I pushed her hair aside, caressing her skin, causing her to shudder again, her legs clenching. “Oh, sorry,” I replied lightly. “Nearly forgot how sensitive you are right now. Five,” I said after a moment, resetting her body’s reactions. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and settled instantly back into slumber.

Chuckling softly, so not to awaken her again, I slipped out of bed. “The things I do just to slip out of bed in the morning to pee,” I muttered, shaking my head.

Eleven-oh-one A.M.

I awoke to the sensation of movement to my left. Immediately, my arm struck out, catching Shelley about her waist. “Uh, uh, uh,” I said to her, my eyes still closed, smirking devilishly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Shelley stretched, her hand caressing mine. “Oh, morning, Master, just to the bathroom.”

I shook my head. “Naw, I think you can hold it for a while.”

“No, I really need to go!” She moved to pull my hand away, but I merely pulled her back into bed. “Master, c’mon! I have to go pee.” She smirked back at me. “I know we talked about exploring that particular kink sometime, but I don’t think this is the time or place.”

Cheeky little devil. Rolling my eyes, I decided to punish her a bit for her impertinence. First, however, I decided to activate a little contingency plan I’d invented for just such an occasion. Tapping her once on the wrist, I said the word “Camel”.

Frowning, she looked back at me. “What? What did you say?”

“Nothing. Now then, my cheeky little monkey, why is it you think you can slip out of bed this morning after I have to endure you keeping ME nestled here beside you every weekday until you decide its time to get up?”

“Well... um, because that’s just the way it works,” she replied with a superior smirk. Just as I thought she would.

In a lot of ways, I’m a pushover. I’ll admit it, I’m pretty laid back with my sweet little slave girl. I love her, so I don’t feel the need to dominate her so completely, or dictate her every action. That doesn’t mean that I CAN’T do so at will, whenever the mood strikes me, it just means that I feel neither the need nor the desire to do so. As an effect, it sometimes gives my sweet girl a bit of a big head, thinking she could do anything she wanted. This, in turn, gave me an excuse to occasionally take her down a peg or two, and ‘punish’ her, to remind her who was in charge.

Which was perfectly fine with both of us.

“That’s the way it works, hmmm?” I said in mock anger, moving a hand across her throat. She gasped, going instantly still, knowing she was perfectly safe in my hands, yet knowing I could easily choke her or snap her neck with a simple gesture. Having gotten her full attention, I grabbed her left hand with my own. My other hand left her neck, and slid down to her waist. “I think,” I said at length, running my fingers lightly across her sides, “that you need to be reminded of just who calls the shots around here.”

She giggled, squirming lightly at my touch. “I KNOW who calls the shots around her, sweetheart,” she teased, either not knowing her peril, or knowing full well, and welcoming it with open arms. “I do.”

Staring deep into her eyes, my expression hard and foreboding, my fingers still running lightly across her sides, I barked out a number. “Eighty-five.”

“EEEEEIIGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!” Shelley screamed instantly. “HHAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

She bucked wildly, like a bronco, lurching towards the edge of the bed, heedless of the fact that only my strong grip on her arm was keeping her from faceplanting into the floor. I suppose bringing my errant slave girl from her normal sensitivity of five to eighty-five percent of maximum in an instant was a bit much. The fingers that had been lightly stroking her sides, making her giggle lightly before, were now death-dealing claws of ticklish agony, sending her into instant hysterics. Her face was frozen in a rictus of total, absolute hilarity, her eyes clenched shut, her mouth wide open in a ‘Joke’ style smile. I knew in about five seconds something would pop and her head would fly off, so I counted to four and yelled, “Thirty!”

Her reactions lessened. Her screaming gasping jags turned into normal, but strained, laughter. No longer all consuming, she was able to react to the tickling sensations I was giving her, enough to coordinate her movements to give herself momentary relief by escaping my fingers for seconds at a time. “Nooooo!!1 Heheheheheehehe... staahhahahappp!! Nonononono nononoooo! Masterrrrr... paaahhlleeeeseee! Hehehehehehehehe!!” she pleaded helplessly. Nonetheless, I kept up my gentle tickling and probing, content merely to work her into a fever pitch with minimal effort, the sensations registering about thirty times stronger than what I was actually giving her. I congratulated myself mentally, noting that if I had not prepared the stage with my ‘Camel’ command, forcing her to conserve her water and temporarily suppress her need to pee she would indeed have wet the bed.

“So, remind me again,” I said after several minutes of torture, “just who is it that calls the shots?”

“Yooouuuu dooooo!!! Hahahahahahahahahahaa!! Please Master, please... hahahahaa.. caan’t breeeeath!!”

I relented after a moment when she started to cough, letting her catch her breath, before posing the question again. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you through all that laughter. Now then, who calls the shots around here?”

Panting, glaring daggers at me, she impertinently answered, “I already told you. I do.”

Laughing myself as her silliness, I resumed the tickling. Shelley squealed, she squirmed, she begged and pleaded for mercy. She did not, however, say she was sorry, or refute her earlier statement in any way. In short, she was enjoying it. Truth be told, I was enjoying it myself, as Shelley well knew by the way she slid a hand down to my now diamond hard cock during a brief break in the tickling. She smiled and winked at me, knowingly, and I responded by tickling her all over yet again.

Shelley had, in the beginning, absolutely HATED to be tickled. I have to admit, that was one of the few things I did actually change about her with mind control. A lot of time and patience had turned a most hated vice into her most beloved pastime. Consequently, I had given her a number of special triggers related to that particular fetish.

Twelve-twelve P.M.

Still holding her hand, I leaned forward and whispered, “Pussy tickle.” A deep groan escaped her lips, followed by more laughter. Suddenly, the situation had changed, the torture having changed from torment to pleasure with a single utterance. Shelley’s hips began to undulate, and her eyes closed as she felt the continuous kiss of a phantom feather circling around and around her clit, as well as teasing and stroking her puffy red lips. To further enhance her pleasure and my control, I touched her forehead lightly and said, “Freeze.” Instantly, all movement stopped, aside from her mouth moving in continued moaning laughter.

“Now, slave,” I replied, moving down to the foot of the bed, rolling the covers down with me, “since you still refuse to acknowledge that I’m in control here, I think its time I completely shattered your control.” I grinned evilly. “You know what comes next, don’t you?”

She did, of course, though at the moment, I doubt if she knew where she was or even who she was. Think of it: being stroked and tickled and teased in your most sensitive and vulnerable area by relentless, invisible, intangible feathers; your sensation to touch being amped up thirty percent, so that very little touch, real or imagined, is enough to make you scream; and finally, being completely and totally unable to move or defend yourself, or better yet, increase the sensation to bring yourself off. This was the world I had locked my sweet little Shelley into. If I were the evil, completely heartless type, I would have left the bedroom then, leaving her in this state for several minutes, perhaps even hours, before releasing her.

Holding up the vibrator I’d snatched from underneath her pillow a moment before, I turned it on full blast and aimed the tip for the soft tender curl of her toes on her right foot. Had she been able to move, she no doubt would have hit the ceiling; as it was, her laughter once again became screams, and paralyzed or not, she managed to writhe and move ever so slightly in her mentally-imposed bondage. Taking a second, larger vibrator, I gently slid her legs apart, worked the toy between her dripping wet pussy lips, and slipped it deep inside, forcing her legs closed again.

Yeah, I know. I am an evil bastard, just not a HEARTLESS evil bastard.

As my dear, sweet girl worked herself into fever pitch, I started her up the sliding scale, calling out higher numbers at regular intervals. “Forty-five.” Perhaps the best part of this particular game was that the intensity of the tickling mixed perfectly with the sensations of pleasure stemming from her pussy and clit. “Fifty-five.” The tickling sensations would keep the stimulation of her tender vagina from orgasming prematurely, making it difficult, if not impossible, to climax before I allowed it. “Sixty-five.” Despite the torturous climb to Nirvana, the experience was one that my dear Shelley relished even more than I did, for the simple fact that when she finally DID reach her limit, when I finally pushed her over edge and let her cum, she always came with a ferocity that we were both sure would one day kill her, and possibly me as well.

“Seventy-five.”

“AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!” Shelley cried, once again, managing to move slightly despite my command to remain frozen. “Ohhhh GAAAADDDDDWWW! Master PLEASE hurry! Finish it! Oh GAWD OH GAWD!! HAHAHAHAHAHA.... UUUUUNNNNNNN!!!”

Dropping the vibrator creasing her toes, I called out, “Eighty-five” and slid into position. Opening her legs, I pulled the vibrator back out from her pussy, causing a heartfelt sob from my poor dear girl. “Not to worry, love,” I said with a smirk, stroking myself lightly, “It’s about to be replaced with something you like a lot better. Ninety.”

Sliding inside, I shuddered, groaning deeply. Shelley’s velvet tunnel felt like a simmering volcano, all fire and wetness, and power, barely contained, just waiting to be released. I took a moment to prepare myself, knowing what I was about to experience, yet anxious at to the result. Taking a calming breath, I reached up to touch her forehead again.

“Unfreeze.”

Her entire body came to life again, her legs snapping into a scissors-lock and professional wrestler would have been proud of. My cock surged forward at the pressure, reaching her very core, and we both gasped. I tried to pump, to slide in and out, but the combination of my hardness, the phantom feathers tickling every active nerve strand, and the nearly animal lust I had instilled in her forced Shelley’s body to hold me in an impossible deathgrip. I was not moving a millimeter until she came. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I read her unspoken message clear as day.

“MAKE. ME. CUM. NOW!!”

“Oh well,” I said with mock severity, “since you asked so nicely.” Grabbing her feet again, resting back on my knees, I worked my fingers between her wildly spasming toes and spoke the final trigger.”

“One Hundred.”

“AAAAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGAAAAAAWWWWWDDDDDYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!” Shelley screamed, arching her back, forcing my cock, impossibly, even DEEPER. A searing wet heat erupted around my cock, and I came as well, filling her with my seed. I saw flashing dots and sparks as we writhed together, my hands still stroking and tickling her toes, rubbing the soles of her feet, making her squeal and scream and moan, and sigh. Her pussy worked my cock like a hand, squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing, as she milked me for every drop I had. Finally, spent, totally bereft of strength, she released me, going back flat against the bed. Slipping away from her, I repositioned myself on the bed next to her.

Shelley lay there, sobbing openly, curled up in the fetal position, shuddering and shaking lightly. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, which broke my heart as it always did. “Shelley?” I asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes widened, and she pushed away quickly.

“OHGAWD! NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” she all but screamed, but too late. The brief contact, at one hundred percent sensitivity, send her back into a brief cycle of tickling and pleasure, leading to another jolt of orgasmic pleasure. I watched her shudder and cry, muscles straining against themselves, as she gave up complete control once again to her libido. She gasped and groaned, her face going bright red, her entire body flushed, and I knew she wouldn’t last very long at this rate. Cursing myself for forgetting, I decided to short-circuit her system before she crashed out. Touching her forehead, I called out one more command.

“Zero.”

A deep shaky breath left Shelley’s lips as the tremors stopped. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, gasping, panting, and slowly, slowly, the red faded, leaving her the normal all-over pink I’d come to love. Finally settled down, she reached over for me, pulling me close. “Five,” I said after a moment, resetting her sensitivity to normal. She sighed.

“Sorry. The way you were crying and sobbing... I thought maybe I had pushed you too far this time...” I began.

Shelley shook her head. “No, Master,” she said firmly. “Never. You didn’t hurt me. It was just...” she shuddered lightly in remembrance. “Just so good! GOD! There is no feeling in the world like cumming that way! All the games we play, all the role-playing, all the hypnosis... none of it compares to that weird, out-of-control feeling I get when you put me into sensory overload. I was crying because I was so happy.” Tears sprang up in her eyes again, and I leaned forward to kiss them away. “You didn’t hurt me.” Then, she smirked. “But you DID almost kill me when you touched me again after making me cum so hard just a few seconds before!”

I chuckled. “Yeah, well, sorry about that. Still, you enjoyed it, even then, didn’t you?” With a smirk, she nodded. “I thought so.” Glancing at the clock, I sighed. “You know, all this started because you refused to acknowledge that I’m the one that calls the shots around here. And you STILL haven’t acknowledged it.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, putting my fingers right against her ribs. “Maybe we need to start this little session all over again—”

“NO! No, oh, no, no, no, Master!” Shelley said quickly, pulling away. Then, gently, smiling, she pulled me close again. “I was teasing, and you know it. YOU call the shots, my Master. I just get a little carried away now and again. But, its good for both of us... because you get to put me back in my rightful place.” She kissed me lightly. “And, of course, I get to be punished.”

I chuckled softly, kissing her in return. “Well, I suppose its time to get up now. It was a little before twelve noon when I started tickling you, and it’s one thirty-four now! We should get up and start our day, or we’ll end up spending the whole day in bed!”

Shelley snuggled close to me. “So? What’s wrong with that? I say let’s stay in bed. I hear the TV playing in the living room, and J didn’t come in here to investigate all the laughing coming from in here, so she’s involved with whatever’s playing.”

Smirking to myself, I softly stroked her along the ear. “But... didn’t you have to go to the bathroom before all of this started?”

The touch along her ear released her from the ‘Camel’ effect. “Oh shit!” she yelled, clenching her legs together. “Let me up! LET ME UP!” she yelled, rolling out of bed. I laughed long and hard as she slipped on her housecoat and waddle danced across the room to the door. Chuckling to myself, I took my time and rose, dressed, and exited the bedroom.

Well, that’s ONE way to get her out of bed in the morning.