The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alone and waiting, Caramia let herself slip into trance, slowing her breathing and letting her mind relax, as Master had taught her to do when she stayed locked in position for long periods of time. As she drifted on a cloud in her head, her memories drifted again, only this time back even further, back to things in her life that had pointed toward this moment all along....

She’d always loved walking in the woods...what was left of the woods, as more and more houses got built over and around them. It was here that she didn’t feel so alone, so out of sync with the rest of her high school classmates.

That she was different didn’t bother her. She had moved around a bit, as many children of Navy parents do. So she knew how to stand by herself, outside the cliques and drama of high school life. She knew a lot of people thought she was snotty. Perhaps that was because she didn’t walk through the halls with her eyes lowered, mumbling to herself like all the other outsider girls. She strode through the halls with energy and purpose, and she met any stare with a bold look of her own. Perhaps if she had grown up around these girls, she would be the “queen bitch” of the school, having others orbit around her like a sun. And she didn’t have to be “alone.” At 5′9″, in shape from all the walking she had done, and with a chest that had already developed to 36DD...she knew that she could have male company if she wanted it. But she had killed any hope of that kind of physical release a few years back.

At 16, she and some of the kids from the neighborhood had come to these woods and lit a bonfire. Someone lit a joint and passed it around, and soon the couples had retreated to the shadows for various versions of physical intimacy. High, she paired off with dark-haired basketball player that she found physically attractive, with a cute smile. He kissed her, touched her breasts, fingered her clit; she moaned in the appropriate places, but it all felt hollow...as if she should be feeling something, but whatever “it” was stayed just out of reach. Still, she let him unzip his pants, and she caressed his cock, slowly pumping it until he came all over her hand. But, instead of letting go, she held his cock even tighter, tightening her grip around it. She looked at his penis like an insect, a frog for dissection, and her entire focus narrowed, shutting out everything but the piece of flesh, and a distant thought: ‘I wonder if that hurts?’ She was just noticing how the penis was starting to change colors when her vision exploded into a field of stars...and then blackness. When she woke up, she was lying on the ground looking up at the tree branches, the side of her head throbbing as if her heart were suddenly inside her skull. It took her a moment to regain her bearings...to realize that he had struck her in an attempt to make her let go of his penis. And that he had left her lying there, cum still coating her hand, her top off, her pants unfastened. Dazed, she looked around for her top, and her bra, but couldn’t see them in the dark. She couldn’t really see anything except the flickering of the fire and the shadows it created in the trees. Slowly, she rolled over; as if testing an iced-over lake to see if she could walk on it, she gingerly moved to a sitting, then standing position. And, without thought, she walked back to the clearing, where she knew he would be.

They didn’t see her at first, as they listened to the basketball boy tell of his conquest of the “bitch.” Of how she’d begged him to open her legs and pound his hot meat into her sopping wet pussy. Of how he’d complied enthusiastically, bringing both of them off with his energetic pumping. Of how she’d been so overcome, she’d passed out in the woods.

When she’d heard enough, she walked up to them and stepped inside their circle, her bare breasts tingling from their proximity to the fire. She looked at them all in turn, smiling, until her eyes came to rest on the basketball boy. “Hello, lover,” she cooed, walking over to him with a sexy walk, making her breasts bounce slightly as she strutted toward him. The other boys watched her with fascination and lust; the girls with envy and disgust.

She stood in front of him, swaying slightly; his face registered confusion...and lust. He didn’t object when she slid into his lap, putting her right hand against his chest as she put her lips near his ear. “You’re just lucky I didn’t have a grip on one of your balls,” she said, as she trailed her hand down his shirt, smearing it with dirt, pine needles...and his cum. Then she had quickly stood and walked, topless, all the way back to her home.

So now they whispered about her behind her back, and she didn’t care. It gave her time to learn...to try to figure out who she was...what she needed. And then she found the books.

She loved to read, and would haunt her father’s small collection of books hoping for something that would fire her imagination. Occasionally, when she wandered in unexpectedly, she would see her father take the book he was reading and lock it in the bottom drawer of his desk. Which was, of course, her signal to snoop around until she found out why he didn’t want her to see it. Eventually, he left the key to the drawer in a place where she could and did find it. And a whole new world opened for her.

Apparently her father had acquired a taste for pornography while he was in the Navy; inside the drawer were books, photographs, magazines...all dealing with females in various helpless sexual positions. Some were tied up. Some were chained. Many were on their knees, or bent over being entered from behind. Cara poured over all of it, feeling her pussy getting wet at the sight of women being so...so...used. For her, the stories were even better. Strong men taking what they wanted from women without asking. Commanding men who expected obedience, and received it...or else. And the amazing descriptions of sex! In every position, in every shape and form! She could imagine herself being told to kneel, to bend over, to strip...to be taken by a strong man with rough hands and large cock. As she sat in her father’s chair, reading about a woman not much older than herself, kidnapped, tied up, forced to have intercourse with multiple men, she finger herself furiously, and tried to force herself over the brink to orgasm. She continued to read, rubbing her clit raw, and still not able to reach climax.

Carefully, she placed the book back in the drawer, locked it, and ran to the master bedroom. Her father, dissatisfied with the water heater that had come with the house, had put a super-sized, hotel-surplus hot water tank just outside the master bath, then replumbed it himself. Now, no matter how much hot water was used in other parts of the house, the master bath could run for an hour, and not run out of hot water. A fact for which Cara was grateful nearly everyday, as she came home from school and jumped in the shower, laying in the tub and letting the hot water pulsate over her clit until orgasm finally took her.

With the delicious images of binding and bending still in her head, Cara lay down in the tub and, in practically no time, came hard. As she replayed the scene in her head where the bound girl was kissed and licked to orgasm by another woman, she came again. And, when she imagined kneeling, licking and sucking a man until he came in her mouth...she orgasmed again. Lying there, recovering, she finally knew what it was she had desire, had craved for so many years.

It was called submission.