The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

So Thursday was pretty uneventful...except that Emma invited me to sleep over on Friday. Not with the gang, just me and her, watching scary movies, eating pizza and having a girls night....I eagerly accepted but I was bit nervous. All we’d already done together..what was this going to be? Was this a date? Was she going to hypnotize me again into doing all sorts of pervy stuff? What if she made the moves on me again like in the dressing room? What was I going to do? I was equal parts terrified and excited.

FRIDAY

So Friday was a lot tamer than I expected. Well it started off that way. Her mom was home and we all had dinner together. Mrs. Snowe was lovely. Charming and gracious, even though I had the sense that she felt like she was ‘slumming’ a little bit with me. I mean, we ordered pizza, but ate it on the nicest china I’d ever seen.

After dinner we watched a movie together, ate some popcorn. It felt...real normal. Like I was with a friend’s family I’d known all my life. Having moved so much I was used to losing friends...and then going through the horrifying process of trying to make new one. It’s true what they say...making friends is harder as you get older. It got harder each move and after the last one I didn’t think I’d make friends again. But this felt very real to me.

After the movie Mrs. Snowe announced she was going to bed. Emma said we’d be heading up to bed soon as well. I picked up my sleeping bag and overnight bag from the front hall and followed Emma up. I wasn’t sure what exactly the sleeping arrangements would be, so I figured a sleeping bag would be a safe bet, though I was pretty sure there was a guest bedroom somewhere in this sprawling mansion.

Emma lead me to her room...and let me just say...wow. I mean...it was like a miniature version of the library downstairs. I mean, it was huge...Book cases everywhere, a cozy reading nook with a fancy coffee table...by the window was a workbench...it looked like she was constructing something, though I have no idea what it was...and on the other side of the room a gigantic king-sized bed. The entire room was lit by fairy lights and spot lights that highlighted the paintings on the wall. I mean, my room had stupid band posters...this girl had some serious art work.

As soon as we got in the door Emma matter-of-factly undressed. Not in a, “time-for-sex” way, more in a, getting ready for bed way. I’d find out later that Emma’s room was her nudist haven.

And...wow. Emma naked. Let me try to do her justice. First off...her size is even more apparent with her clothes off...her height, her fullness. Although her breasts aren’t as big as you might expect. I mean they’re big because everything on her is big, but not overly so. They’re high and tight to her body and very round. Shapely, but not overwhelming. Her nipples pointed upward slightly. But her ass...Christ, she really is a Crumb drawing come to life. Her ass was like two soft basketballs joined together. Round and firm and wide...I mean, comes with her wide hips, but this ass was something to be seen. Round and curvy and firm. It’s size was accentuated even more by her slim, but soft and slightly rounded stomach. It was an ass a lot of women would do everything to hide, but I knew men liked. It was an ass begging to be grabbed, to be kneaded, slapped. Just to satisfy my curiosity, I wanted to grab it, to feel it, to glide my hands around its curves. At that moment I imagined myself seeing this ass as a man. If I had a dick, I would just want to bury myself in that ass. I lingered on that thought. Having a stiff cock, and just plowing into Emma as she lay on her stomach, with that gorgeous ass just presenting itself as some kind of sex target....damn...where were these thoughts coming from? I mean...not a lesbian, right? Or was I? Maybe I was bi? I felt my nips getting hard under my t-shirt and I was hoping Emma wouldn’t notice. I also felt my panties getting a little moist. Straight, bi or gay, I was definitely turned on by this woman’s body. Maybe it was just her.

I wondered if Emma thought about her body. She seemed so uninhibited, so unconcerned. I noticed she didn’t groom her “bikini area” A wild patch of silver pubic hair that looked like it had not seen a razor in recent memory, or perhaps ever. Of course she noticed me checking her over...how could she not. She smiled at the appreciation. I think she saw my erect nips.

She walked past me into the bathroom (damn that ass! watching it pad along!). I heard the faucet turn on and the tub start to fill. And then I heard those words I was longing for and dreading.

“Join me?”

I was both excited and scared at the same time. I knew where this was headed and it terrified me.

“Sure. Give me a moment.” I managed to say, trying to conceal my terror.

I undressed in Emma’s bedroom. I didn’t have that much confidence in my body. My nipples pressed against my shirt as I lifted it over my head. That delicious friction. My underwear was slightly sticky as I pulled it down. I’m such a perv. I took Emma’s robe from the door, not having brought my own. It was so big on me, I must have looked ridiculous. It dragged behind me like a wedding train. I entered the bathroom.

Emma was bent over the tub adding bath salts. That ass again. I could really see the appeal from a guy’s perspective of wanting to bend someone over to fuck them; to grab their waist and just pull them towards their cock... It’s such an invitation. She turned and smiled at me, completely unashamed of her nudity.

Skip this paragraph if you like, but I would be remiss if I didn’t compliment Emma’s bathroom. Of course, no one’s reading this but me, so fuck it. If I want to write about Emma’s bathroom, I give me permission to do so. Older me, if you’re reading this, you probably have not seen a finer bathroom that this one. It was more of a lounge with bathroom fixtures. The bathtub could easily fit 3 or 4 people in it. And it was deep...and designed to lay back in. I could see many jets along the sides and bottom. It was underneath a giant bay window that overlooked the Sound. You could see the lights of Seattle in the distance. Next to the tub was a shower glass enclosure. Again, made for at least 4 people. There were four shower heads that suspended from the top. Additionally there were 2 red lounge divans around the walls, so you could, I don’t know, entertain guests while you were bathing or on the toilet or something. I sat on one now, waiting for the tub to fill. Oh and the toilet had one of those built in bidet things that sprayed warm water up your butt or your vag. That was nice if unexpected. And a heated tile floor. Really, a great bathroom. Man, maybe I should edit this journal down bit further, I mean who cares about the bathroom? I do, anyway, paints a picture. Excuse my descriptive indulgence older self.

When the water was about halfway up, Emma stepped in. She looked away from me, out the window, as if to give me some privacy. I took off my robe and left it on the divan. I walked to the tub and climbed in on the far side from her. She’d also added some bubble mix and it was pretty frothy. For my modesty suppose. I was grateful. I slid beneath the bubbles, up to my neck so my boobies wouldn’t float on top. She turned to look me. She was high enough that her boobs were floating. God, they were gorgeous. I felt some momentary breast envy. The tub was big enough that we both could have existed in it without any contact whatsoever. But that was not to be.

She took hold of my close foot and placed it on her thigh. She began to knead and massage it with those big muscular hands. I let out a sigh of contentment. I also felt that this was the time to have this “conversation”

“Emma.” I said.

“Yes Kitten?”

This was the first time she called me Kitten. I liked it. Another obscure X-Men reference we both understood.

“Emma, what exactly are we doing here. What are we?”

“Well I’m giving you foot massage, while we are enjoying a relaxing bath together. Is that not obvious?”

She smiled and winked. She knew what I meant, but she was gonna make me say it aloud.

“I know, and it feels great, I mean, don’t stop, but...this is more intimate than I have ever been with anyone in my entire life. It’s very strange. I’ve known you less than a week, and, we’ve had these intense experiences together....I’m trying to piece this together, get my mind around it....Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

Emma looked at me in surprise.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend? Do I get to wear your class ring?” she asked playfully.

“No, that, came out wrong, I mean, “Do YOU wanna BE my girlfriend? Is this dating? Are we dating? I just don’t know how to define us...I guess. And I’ve wandered so far into unknown territory that I’m not sure I know who I am...or what I am”

Emma put down my foot, for a moment I thought I’d offended her, and in that moment I realized what I’d wanted.

Think about flipping a coin to make a decision. It’s not the outcome of the coin that matters, what matters is what you wish for when that coin is in the air. Emma putting my foot down was that coin in the air. At that moment I desperately wanted her to massage the other one. I prayed for it.

Emma scooted over, and picked up the other foot and continued the massage. Yes. This is what I wanted.

“I don’t know if we need to define what we have just yet,” Emma said. “I’ve never really had a “boyfriend” or a “girlfriend”. Just friends I’ve fooled around with. Boys and girls.”

“So would you call yourself bi-sexual?”

She pondered. “No, more like pan-sexual. It’s not the gender I’m attracted to, it’s the person...But these relationships have all lacked the same quality.”

“Which is?”

“Trust.” she said curtly. “It’s my nature not to trust. I have trusted before and it has played out...badly. With most people, with everyone I suppose, I’ve never been able to fully trust, to fully let go, to allow someone into my mind, my heart, they way I’ve entered others. That’s why you are different.”

“You trust me? Emma, I’m flattered, but you barely know me.”

“Maybe I know you better than you think. Remember, I’ve spent more time with you, than you have with me. We’ve had long conversations that you don’t remember. Does that bother you?”

I hadn’t thought about all the time I’d spent under her spell. I wondered what secrets she pulled from me.

“I suppose it should bother me, but it doesn’t. But then again you could have hypnotically commanded me to NOT let it bother me.”

“I swear to you I haven’t....I’ll record you sometime under hypnosis. You are fascinating to talk to. All your shyness fades and I get to meet this impetuous, beautiful, wide-eyed girl. I’ve also met you at age 12, 8, and 5.”

“Seriously? You age regressed me? What was I like?”

“You were delightful. Very curious. You asked a lot of questions and you liked to tell made-up stories about adventures with your dog. It made me wish I’d known you then.”

“It’s kind of unfair that you get to meet me this way, and I don’t get the return experience.”

“I know,” said Emma, “and I’ve been thinking about that. Very much. Tell me, would you ever betray me, hurt me, do me wrong?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, of course not.”

“I know. This trust I feel from you...it’s unique to me. I’m always looking for hidden agendas, ulterior motives, but I don’t get any of that from you. You’re pure...innocent. Sometimes I fear that I am corrupting you.”

I laughed. “You are educating me. There is a difference.”

“Kitten, I want to share a secret with you...no one...I mean NO ONE, knows this, but I feel I can trust you with it.”

She bent my knee and scooted in closer. Now she was kneading my thigh.

“I’m terrified of being hypnotized myself...I mean...apparently I’m super suggestible and that terrifies me.......okay, let me tell you the whole story: when I was younger I was a real stressed out kid. I used to worry about everything. Family stuff, grades, and I was worried about getting found out.”

“Found out about what?” I asked.

Emma was quiet for a moment. Real quiet and pensive. She just looked at me. Evaluating me.

“Okay,” she said. “Let me give you a hypothetical situation. What if...and I’m not suggesting I believe any of this...this is strictly a hypothetical situation. What if I told you I believed I was a space alien....Now I’m not saying I believe this,just so we’re clear...I’m just hypothetically creating this scenario. Would you tell anyone? What would you think of me?”

I smirked. “If you told me you thought you were a space alien? Hmm...I wouldn’t tell anyone. I mean, unless I thought you were going to hurt someone or hurt yourself. I mean, I think you’re pretty crazy as it is...but in a good way...so I’m fine with you thinking you might be a space alien.”

Emma nodded. “Good....okay...let’s take this scenario one further..and again...this is strictly hypothetical” She leaned a bit. “What if I was...an actual space alien? I mean, actually from another world...and not only that...but I could prove it to you....I could teleport you up to the mothership, we could zip around the galaxy for a while, the whole, shebang. Would you tell anyone? Again, I’m not saying I’m a space alien, nor do I believe I’m one.”

I thought for a moment. “If you didn’t want anyone to know...no I wouldn’t tell anyone...provided you were here to benefit mankind, or just make observations or whatever. Maybe abduct some yokels and probe their asses, that’s fine. However, if you showed me your manifesto and it was titled, “To Serve Man” and it turns out to be cookbook...well, I’d be pretty unhappy.”

Now I leaned in. “Emma...are you from another world? Wait...are you a robot? A malfunctioning Terminator?”

She laughed. “No....”she said. “But I’m different. And what I’m about to tell you I haven’t told another soul...except one. I’m....well I’m a lot of people. Not like multiple personality, I mean, kind of like it, but they’re all part of me. Like...how many languages do you speak?

“Well if you include English...one.” I said.

“Yeah. I speak about 15. If I watch a couple of foreign films, I’ll learn the language. But it’s not me learning it. It’s like there’s someone inside me who’s learning it. Or here, give me a math problem.”

“Uh...what’s two plus two?”

She snorted. “Five- no wait I mean four! Give me something harder, you idiot.”

“Okay,” I said, not really believing her. “What’s the square root of 85,234?”

“291.9486, approximately,” she responded immediately.

I looked at her suspiciously. I got out of the tub and went out to the other room to find my phone. I felt her eyes on my tiny ass as I walked, but I didn’t care. I had to know. I got my phone and ran the calculation. She was absolutely correct. I came back in with astonishment written all over my face. It occurred to me that I was freely naked in front of her. For a moment I thought about picking up my robe, but it was too late. She could see everything. My tiny breasts. My thin body. My hairy pussy. Man I’m glad she was just as unkept as me.

“See, there’s someone inside me who just does math. Not just one person...lots of people. Grab one of those books and open to a page. Any page.”

Emma kept a small library in the bath because of course she did. I grabbed the Complete Mark Twain and randomly opened to a page.

“Okay,” I said. “Mark Twain, page 135.”

“Pap warn’t in a good humor” she began in a southern drawl. “—so he was his natural self. He said he was down town, and everything was going wrong.”

She was right. Maybe she was a space alien or a robot.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Someone else in my head knows those books by memory. I’m just listening to what they tell me.”

I believed her now. And I believed her when she said she’d never told a soul, except one. No one had ever put this trust in me about anything. And when I thought about it, I’d never trusted anyone else as much as trusted her.

I put the book back and walked over to her. I didn’t display any modesty this time, keeping my hands at my side so she could see my naked body freely. I saw her look at me as I walked towards her, exposed, raw....trusting. I went behind her and held her in my arms. I pressed my face close to hers.

“Even if I am captured and tortured, I will never speak of what you’ve told me. Your secrets are safe with me. I swear it.”

She let me hold her a while and then she turned to face me. She was crying. Happy tears though. And then we kissed.

This wasn’t just a kiss-kiss though. It wasn’t passionate, or lustful. It was deep and meaningful, and it was her way...and my way, of sealing this pact we’d made. It was a kiss of love, true friendship, and ultimately, of complete trust of one another.

I went back around the the tub and got in again.

Emma continued. “I knew I was different when I was about 5 years old. And I also realized about that time that I should do everything in my power to hide that. I’d read about what happens to smart kids...they often have shitty, unhappy lives; they get alienated from their friends, and grow up lonely, unless of course, they kill themselves when they’re young. Whenever I read about some kid who graduates from Harvard when they’re 12 I just imagine the awful life they must endure. So I started dumbing myself down. Smart but not scary-smart. A—’s. Needing help on homework. Having a subject that I struggled with. That kind of thing. Meanwhile I’d planned my own studies, languages, math, literature, economics...I just kept it hidden. That’s when I started getting stressed. I could hide my smarts, but I couldn’t hide the effects the subterfuge was having on me.”

She scooted forward and started massaging my leg again; working the calf now. Maybe one of her personalities was a massage therapist. Deep sigh.

“So about in the middle of my Junior year, my parents sent me to this therapist to see what the dealio was. And she asked me a lot of questions to try and figure out why I was so stressed, and I did everything I could to convince her that I was just this normal kid who was just a little stressed about normal school stuff. “Oh school is so hard!” “Oh, I wish I had a boyfriend!” “Oh I’m so tall and big!” Now keep in mind, I made a point not to excel at school...I mean I did good, but not so good that they would send me away to some genius school or something. Anyway, she decided that the best way to get me to relax and to open up to her was to hypnotize me. I had just turned 18 when this was happening. I’ll never forget this. She had this big leather divan with a super fluffy comforter. The room was all dark and leathery and cozy. She didn’t call it hypnosis though...she called it “guided meditation”. And I was okay with that. I didn’t think it could do any harm. And so she hypnotized me. She set up this metronome with a light shining on it that would reflect in the brass ticker. And then she started talking...very low...very steady. Talking about focusing about on the metronome, focusing on her voice, focusing on my breathing...and I remembered thinking..wait...this is hypnosis...she’s hypnotizing me, but that’s okay, I’m going to PRETEND this going to work and I will fool her into thinking that I could relax...but it worked for real, and exceedingly well. I mean, I fell hard. I remember her soft words filling my head and this weird compulsion to do exactly what she was telling me to do. I remember my body growing numb and my mind detaching itself from my control. It was like a new personality forming. One that was so susceptible to hypnosis that we had no choice but to fall deeply under. It was odd...I could still think and reason, but I couldn’t get my body to obey what my conscious mind was telling it to. I remember getting panicked...I tried to move my arms and legs and they wouldn’t obey me. And I think she knew how deeply I fell. She must have. She ran this scenario with me...she had me imagine that I had been injected with truth serum and that I had to answer her questions truthfully. She knew I had been hiding something and she drew all the secrets out of me. I remember answering her questions and being horrified that I was revealing my secrets to her. I told her how smart I was. I spoke fluent French, Russian, and Cantonese for her. I did impossibly hard math equations for her. And each time, I felt like I was betraying myself. I kept trying to wake myself up, I kept trying to stop myself from talking but I couldn’t. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t, I felt like a prisoner in my own body which was no longer under my control. I felt helpless.”

She stopped massaging me and looked out at the night sky.

“When she woke me up I started crying and begged her not to tell anyone. And I mean begged...on the ground with my arms around her legs pleading to keep my secret. She agreed...but as long as I continued therapy with her. I was overjoyed and relieved at this arrangement. But I was also terrified. I mean, my life had always been about being in control, and with her, I was giving up that control. I was also scared at how easily she could hypnotize me. Every week I would try to psyche myself up to resist her, but all she had to do was look at me, snap her fingers, say, “Emma sleep.” and I would be out.

A worried look fell across Emma’s face. I could tell she was reliving something tough for her, and something she’d never told anyone about.I swam across the tub and circled behind her. Wedging myself between her and the edge of the tub. I cradled her, as best I could. Her body floated outward and I held her head on my lap. I kissed the top of her head. I wanted to project as much love and trust as I possibly could.

Emma continued.

“The weird thing is that it was kind of helping. I was less stressed. I mean, just by having someone I could share my secret with...that was big help. But I was still scared. Scared of this loss of control...I think that’s how I came to fetishize it. At least I that’s what I thought what was happening. I started having dreams. Intense sex dreams...sometimes I would I dream I was hypnotized and made to do all sorts of things against my will...other times I would hypnotize people and make them my slaves. And I’d have them do some really fucked up stuff. Soon all my waking sex fantasies were also hypnosis oriented as well. It felt like this new personality was living inside me. ‘Evil Sex Hypnotist Emma’ I called her. Seeing Dr. Stein got really weird. I mean, I’d be scared to see her, but I’d also be really turned on at the same time. Eventually it got to the point where I just entering her office would trigger a post-hypnotic command. She didn’t have to say anything. I would just walk to the couch, lie down, and fall into a deep hypnotic trance. And every time it felt so fucking good. Just before I would sink to blackness I remember feeling so incredibly wet.”

“Do you think she knew?” I asked. “About your fetish?”

“She must have. I couldn’t hide anything from that woman. I started to suspect it was also her fetish as well. I remember this one time...she woke me up after a session and she seemed...different...slightly disheveled. And usually I remembered what happened in our sessions. Or most of them anyway. There were always some blank spaces. This time though...I couldn’t remember anything. Plus there was this scent in the air...like sex. I thought it was me. I mean, I got so wet during these sessions. Then I wondered maybe she had masturbated while I was out.”

“Ew.”

“No...it wasn’t like that. I mean..I dwelled on the idea and it really turned me on. I mean, I pictured her, hypnotizing me, and then making me pleasure her...”

Emma slipped a hand between her legs and started to rub absent-mindedly. The bubbles hid my view, but I could see her arm gently moving back and forth. I wanted to touch myself as well, but I didn’t want to let go of Emma.

“Do you think that actually happened?”

Emma continued. “I didn’t think so. I thought it was just my imagination. But at this point my trances were total blanks to me. Complete amnesia. I used to have some idea of what was happening, but now from the time she took me down to the time she woke me up were complete lost time. So guess what I did?”

“You recorded it?”

“Exactly. Mostly it was just curiosity. Part of it was to give me some juicy masturbation fuel. I could only imagine how how it would be to watch myself be put under.”

“So what happened?”

Emma was silent a moment. Still gently rubbing herself. Remembering.

“I bought a lipstick camera. I sewed it into my purse. Absolutely invisible. So I showed up for my appointment...and as soon as I walked in the door, I lost all memory. My next thoughts were waking up on the couch. I looked around. My purse was on the floor near the couch. The camera was facing towards me, so I probably got some footage, I figured. I had no idea what was actually happening.”

Emma moved my arm so it was covering her breast and squeezed so I could hold her tighter.

“I got home and loaded the footage on my computer. I saw the purse POV waiting in Dr. Stein’s outer office. Dr. Stein came out and asked me to come in. I walked in...and went into a trance. I put the purse down by the couch. On the camera I could see the bottom of my cape, my boots and most of Dr. Stein. For a moment I just stood there. Legs together. Not moving... waiting. Then Dr. Stein spoke:

“Why don’t you get more comfortable, Emma?”

“Yes, Dr. Stein.” I heard myself respond. My voice was placid...very calm.

“The next thing I saw was my cape falling to the ground around my boots. Then my boots coming off. Then my shirt. And so on. Eventually I saw my panties and my bra fall on top of my cape. And I then I just stood there. And Dr. Stein looked me over...I saw her feel up her breasts and lick her lips. Then she got undressed. Completely nude. She looked pretty good for late 30s. Full figured. Wide hips, big breasts. She began to tweak her nipples and she slipped a hand between her legs.”

Emma had started breathing hard and I could feel her nipples hardening under my forearm. I could feel the rhythm of her own stroking and her body would press into me. I felt my own arousal rising and I pressed her harder into me. I kept wanting to move my arm so I could grab her breast proper, but I was still afraid. She continued.

“Then she spoke to me. “Emma,”she said,” Did you masturbate last night? Or did you have a sexy dream?” “Both.” I replied. She seemed pleased by this and she began to stroke herself faster. She leaned back on her desk and spread her legs.

“Tell me about your masturbation, Emma. Did you look at any porn or did you fantasize?”

“I heard myself reply: “I fantasized, Dr. Stein.”

“What did you fantasize about, Emma?”

“I fantasized about you, Dr. Stein”

That really turned her on. “Tell me more, Emma. What did we do in this fantasy? Tell me everything.”

“I imagined we were at your office. You held my face in your hand and made me look deep into your eyes. We would breathe in and out together while we just looked at each other...and then we started to blink together, perfectly in synch...and you blinks became slower, and slower, and then my eyes just could not open any more, and I felt myself swaying forward into your arms...then you told me to relax deeper and deeper into your arms, to hear only your voice and that I would feel great pleasure whenever I did what you told me to do.”

Emma trailed off. I think she was starting to go into trance just from the memory of being hypnotized.

“Emma?” I caressed her face. “Are you still with me Emma?”

I felt her awaken.

“Sorry,” she said. “Thinking about watching that video....it kind of brings me back there. I mean...yeah I was totally violated...but you have no idea how incredibly fucking hot it is to me. Watching myself being controlled by someone...there is no version of me that would have ever allowed that...to give up control like that....even if I had no conscious memory of it...just knowing it happened...and now....”

She trailed off. I felt another leap of trust coming. I held her tighter again. I pressed my breasts into her back as I cupped her own. It had occurred to me this was the first time I’d ever felt another woman’s breasts. So big and squishy...not like mine at all. I understood the appeal to men. I really began to wonder if maybe I was a lesbian. Or at least bi-sexual. A bit confusing.

She reached back caressed the side of my face. I held her hand. The one she’d been masturbating with.

She continued.

“Now...now there is another in me. Emma the Hypnotic Submissive. Sort of the counter-point to Wicked Sex Hypnotist Emma, though my friends have only witnessed the latter. No one knows, except for Dr. Stein I suppose, knows how badly I want to be hypnotized, to be made to obey, to do the things to me that I do to my friends.”

“Have you thought about telling them?” I asked.

“I have.” she said. “I’ve thought about telling them everything. Not just my hypnosis fantasies but this whole multiple personality thing I keep to myself but....I’m afraid it would change things. They’ve known me so long...they have this idea of me and I don’t know what would happen if I changed. I mean, I love them and all, but there’s like I said, I have problems with trust...”

She grew quiet and we stayed like that for a while. Little me holding big her.

After a time she turned, gave me a quick kiss and said, “Come on. It’s time for bed.”

We got out of the tub and dried off. All my shame was gone. I let her dry me and feel my body. She let me do the same to her.

She took my hand and we walked back into her bedroom. She pulled back the covers and let me climb in. The sheets were soft and the blankets were warm. She climbed in after me and snuggled close. Now she was the big spoon.

Soon she began to nuzzle my neck. It was so sensual. So loving. I turned and faced her. We stared at one another for a bit. She ran her hand through my hair.

And then we made love.

It was as close to what I’d imagined making love would be from all the books I’d read and movies I’d seen. Lots of kissing. Lots of hand work. And it was very slow and easy. And gentle. At one point she climbed on top of me and positioned herself between my legs the way a man would, and gently rubbed her sex up and down against mine. She gave me deep, passionate kisses and I did my best to return her passion.

Eventually the rubbing and the excitement began to overwhelm me and I began to quiver as an orgasm overtook me. She muffled my moans with her mouth and I think my excitement sent her over the edge as well and I felt her tremble above me. I think she may have been crying.

As we settled in to sleep, I became the little spoon again. I felt her breasts on my back, the heat from the sex on my ass, her breath on my neck, and I could feel her heartbeat getting slower.

“Liz,” she said. “Is it too early to tell you that I love you?”

I kissed her hand. “Emma, I am yours heart and soul. I’m not afraid of that word. I love you.”

She kissed my neck. “I love you too.”

And as I drifted off to sleep, I thought about this odd arc we were on. I thought about that day in the cafeteria, when she came in and saved me, and that night with her friends, and then in the car. I thought about this girl who was so determined to save me, and to give me love, and to give me pleasure and who now trusted me to give her all those things back.

I began to wonder what it would be like to hypnotize Emma. To have her under my control. To make her my thrall.

I snuggled back into her and felt her hold me closer.