The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Daisy sat in place, looking back at Steffi. Steffi was looking at her too, in the way that made Daisy want to shrink under her own skin.

They’d eaten dinner together in the nook off Steffi’s kitchen, but that had been almost an hour ago, now. Since they’d finished the meal, and Steffi had cleared the plates, they’d been sitting across Steffi’s small circular table, looking at each other in silence.

Daisy thought she knew what Steffi expected of her that night, and she didn’t think she wanted to give it. Steffi was expecting the same thing from her which she expected of Daisy every night, and Daisy never wanted to give it. She had never given it so far— she was as determined to keep her streak this night as she was on all nights. She wasn’t going to give it.

“I’m tired of waiting, Daisy,” Steffi said, breaking the silence between them. Simple, concise and to the point, the way Steffi tended to be. But she’d never admitted this out loud, before. The two of them had been dancing around the topic for months.

“It’s not going to be tonight,” Daisy answered, stiffly. She hoped that would be the end of the conversation.

Steffi shifted forward in her chair, though, and Daisy could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t ready to drop the topic. Not tonight.

“You said you would surrender yourself to me,” she said, as if Daisy needed reminding. “You said you would give yourself over to me, and let me have complete control of you. But the moment of your surrender has never come. I wash over you with my methods, and still it doesn’t come. Why did you agree if you had no intention of actually following through on the agreement?”

“I agreed because I thought it was something I could give,” Daisy clarified. “But every night when I reach the point of giving it— giving in,” she added— and in saying the second phrase, she let herself indulge for just that second in the taste of the words. Let herself sink into them, sag in around them— a secret, stolen delight for just that second. One second in which to live in the fantasy of giving in; to taste it only briefly in the naming of it.

Then she resumed her spoken train of thought.

“When I reach that point every night, I turn back,” Daisy said. “Because I thought that I could give that kind of unconditional surrender, but when the time comes each night for you to tempt me to it, I find it is not something that I can give. I don’t have it in me… each night when you ask me, I can’t stand the idea… you’re just going to sweep me away, into nothing. I’ll fall under your power, and I won’t ever come back up to the surface. And I just— can’t. I can’t let go of myself, of my own autonomy. I can’t.”

Steffi had watched through all of Daisy’s unexpected confession, but there was no hint on her face as to her inner thoughts. Maybe the confession had not been unexpected from Steffi’s perspective, but it had been unexpected for Daisy. She’d thought she didn’t want to talk about this. Instead, she’d found she had much to say about it, though she hadn’t realized until she’d been in the middle of speaking, with the words already pouring out of her.

“Well, you can rescind your offer,” Steffi suggested, after a moment. “If you really can’t, we don’t need to keep up the pretense anymore— don’t need to keep pretending that someday you will. We don’t need to keep seeing each other at all. You come over night after night, but if you want to be free to go, you’re free. You don’t need to come back tomorrow night. We can break our arrangement, and go our separate ways— and say nothing else about it. Tell me now— and then it’s done.”

Daisy bit down on her lower lip. She couldn’t do that either, and she knew it— she couldn’t rescind on their agreement, couldn’t leave Steffi behind forever. But she was equally incapable of making good on it. She was stuck.

“I don’t want to rescind,” Daisy said, after a few more seconds of sharing a gaze with Steffi. “I don’t want to leave and be free of you… but I just… I can’t—”

“Don’t say anything else about it,” Steffi murmured. “You don’t have to. We don’t need to talk about this at all, anymore. Why don’t you come with me, over to the couch?”

It was going to happen again, tonight. Daisy could feel it. It was going to happen the way it happened every night. Steffi would lead her to the precipice, and Daisy would close her eyes, and feel the wind on her face— imagining how that same wind would feel wrapped all around her if she jumped off it, and fell into the oblivion of surrender.

And then Daisy would step back, turn away, and refuse it for another night.

But she would taste it for just that moment of indulgence… she would taste it, for just the second she had her eyes closed. Maybe she was greedy for even small tastes of it, like this. “Lead the way,” she said, simply, and rose from the table to follow Steffi into her main room.

When Steffi seated herself on the couch, Daisy seated herself there beside her. Daisy sat, looking straight ahead, but Steffi inclined to her, shifting her body sideways so that she was facing towards her. Looking at her— Daisy could feel Steffi looking at her, even though she was looking ahead, making her overtures towards resistance.

“You are stuck, aren’t you?” Steffi asked, with almost a hint of sympathy in her voice. She raised her hand— only visible in Daisy’s peripheral vision— and ran it down gently along the side of her face. Then raised it again, to stroke lightly down over the surface of Daisy’s hair. “You don’t need to answer— or think about that,” Steffi added, after a second. She passed her hand back down over Daisy’s head again; falling into a repetitive, soothing rhythm.

“You don’t need to think about anything.” Steffi was still stroking at her hair. Daisy felt like she was being petted; a little bit of her hard, resistant exterior softened under the motion. But she still kept her eyes facing straight ahead. “Just listen to me for a little while— just let me touch you like this.”

A soft sound escaped Daisy which she had not intended to make— Steffi’s touch was comforting, and had drawn it out of her. Daisy was still facing ahead, and not towards Steffi, but under Steffi’s touch, she was becoming looser. Softer. Sinking back into the couch, as if she might be planning to take a nap there. As if her body were getting ready to go to sleep right where she sat; making itself more comfortable so that it could.

“I’ll let you,” Daisy said, softly. She felt soft, as she said it. “Just for a minute, I’ll—”

“Good, that’s it,” Steffi encouraged. “Just let me keep touching you… just listen to my voice…” Steffi trailed into silence for a second, before she picked the thread of her speech back up. “You offered me your surrender, but it’s a frightening thing to give, I know. You’re used to being the one in control; you admitted it before. You’re used to having your own autonomy— complete autonomy. You don’t want to let go of it; don’t want to let go of yourself, of everything you’ve been. I can understand that.”

Daisy was feeling drowsier. Steffi’s touch and voice together were lulling her into a partial rest… it felt so… light. So… peaceful… Steffi may as well have taken her by the hand and pulled her by it down a cliffside path, because Daisy knew she’d be back standing on the edge of surrender in no time at all.

“But this doesn’t need to be rushed,” Steffi added. “Nothing about it needs to be rushed. There will come a time when you’re ready to let go. When you’re ready to give in to me. And if you haven’t gotten there yet, it only means that I haven’t sweetened it enough for you to want to. Just give me a little more time to convince you— you’ll get there.”

Daisy was feeling drowsy now— really drowsy. But even so, she had an objection she was too tired to speak. The idea that Steffi had just expressed— that Daisy’s hesitancy was somehow as a result of Steffi’s failure to convince her— that idea was wrong. Daisy’s hesitancy was only because of her own stubbornness— it had nothing to do with Steffi.

Maybe Steffi didn’t know it— but Daisy was tempted. She was tempted every night. Here she was, again— on the edge. And here, again, she savored the feeling.

Her savoring was well-timed, because just as she was doing it, Steffi was changing up her petting pattern. She left one hand on Daisy’s hair, brushing gently over it, but her other hand was suddenly in Daisy’s lap, resting against her pussy, on the outside of Daisy’s skirt.

Daisy was drowsy enough that her breathing did not speed up to register this change, but inside, Daisy was very aware of Steffi’s hand there. She could feel the first licks of fire heating her up.

Steffi was still petting over Daisy’s hair with her other hand. But with her lower hand, she slipped down along the surface of Daisy’s skirt, until her fingers were brushing the part of Daisy’s leg that extended past the skirt’s hem. The touch was burning when it landed there, and Steffi wasted no time in running her fingers up Daisy’s leg, coming between the inside of Daisy’s skirt and her upper leg to keep spreading that burning touch on Daisy’s skin.

The feeling, though it burned with heat, did not wake Daisy up or make her feel alert. Daisy was standing on the edge of oblivion, as ever; and so, so sleepy still under the repetitive petting of Steffi’s upper hand on her hair.

Steffi had gotten her hand all the way up the length of Daisy’s leg, leaving the ghost of sensation in her trail, and now she had shifted her hand around to cup Daisy’s pussy over her underwear. Daisy stayed the same, according to external view. She was still limp on the couch, with half-lidded eyes, growing drowsier, and drowsier… but the feeling of desire was waking up inside her, and physically, her body was eager for Steffi to shift her lower hand again, to give more concrete touch.

As if reading her mind, Steffi moved again, brushing the part of Daisy’s lower lips that rested just beneath the band of her underwear— and Daisy felt herself grow limper. Steffi’s touch was hot, burning, as Daisy had already noticed: but now it seemed to Daisy that it was hot enough to melt her from her freeze of indecision. Or that it would be, if Steffi were able to go on touching her.

She wasn’t sure where it would lead, if she let Steffi go on. If she stopped her right now, Daisy could be sure that her resistance would remain intact. But if she let Steffi go on, she couldn’t have that same assurance. Steffi touching her like this made her want to melt completely. The abyss of oblivion was right in front of her— if she only leaned forward—

She snatched herself back. She wrestled up out of the drowsy feeling, to get to the point of being coherent enough for speech. “I told you I’d let you for a minute, Steffi— I’d allow it for a minute, but now—”

“It’s been a minute,” Steffi provided for her. She did not move against Daisy’s pussy again, but still kept her other hand petting. “You can withdraw now, if you like; refuse me. If you really want me to stop now, then I’ve completely failed at convincing you. But… are you sure… you aren’t just the slightest bit eager… for me to slip underneath?”

Steffi was cheating— tracing patterns with her fingers on the surface of Daisy’s underwear now. Patterns that Daisy could feel through the fabric.

Daisy swallowed— there. There, now her breathing had picked up to reflect the consequences of Steffi’s touch.

“It feels good to be petted, doesn’t it? It feels good when I pet you— feels good anywhere I do it. So don’t you want me to do it here?”

Steffi was stroking along one of Daisy’s lower lips from a side angle— still through the fabric, still not quite touching down on skin unfiltered. Daisy almost wanted her to— even though she knew she’d be risking her resistance more dangerously than she had ever done before.

“Just—” Daisy licked her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. “Just— for a minute—”

Steffi’s fingers crept beneath the band, and touched down on Daisy’s pussy, chasing another exhalation out of her.

“That feels better, doesn’t it?” Steffi prompted— she was still petting Daisy’s hair, but now Steffi’s fingers danced along Daisy’s slit in a wonderful sequel to the tracing she’d first done on the surface of her underwear. “You were craving this… now you’ve got it. Just appreciate it— just for this minute—”

Steffi’s creeping fingers found Daisy’s clit, and Daisy twitched slightly off the couch. She was rolling it, now. Rolling it against the pad of her thumb with the guidance of her other digits.

Daisy bit down on her lip again, a moan climbing into her throat but getting no further than coming out of her as a vague humming.

Steffi was rolling patiently— still passing her other hand along Daisy’s hair. The drowsiness was slipping in around the edges again, giving the room a faint tunnel vision effect. Daisy was on the edge, swaying on the edge as if she might fall at any moment. She was clearly already losing her balance. That stubbornness of hers— the stubbornness she wrapped around herself like a cloak; it was melting. Maybe it had been made of ice, after all— it was melting now, melting down under Steffi’s hot touch. And she was on the edge and swaying there… if she lost her balance she would fall right into oblivion… fall right into surrender, and keep falling through it with no end.

Wouldn’t it feel like this when it happened? Wouldn’t it feel like this, only more? So much warm, shifting pleasure… rumbling pleasure, from far back in her deeper places, shaking the surface? It would feel like this, and keep feeling like this, and what this already was felt so good… Daisy wanted to keep feeling it… she was swaying… she was swaying… if she wasn’t careful she was going to lose her balance and fall in.

At last, Steffi’s upper hand dropped to join her lower one at Daisy’s core. With that hand, she kept rolling her, but with the hand she joined to its task, she went back to stroking along Daisy’s slit— then teasing at her entrance.

Somehow the pattern of stroking felt the same as the pattern Steffi had been passing over her hair. That same, patient repetition, only now it was being traced over her most sensitive nerves, setting them completely on fire. The heat Daisy had noticed before was nothing compared to this heat, which it had turned into.

The tunnel vision grew more extreme… the rest of the room seemed to be falling away from her. It felt so good— it felt so good— now all Daisy could see was the gap of darkness before her— she wanted to fall in… she knew she was supposed to resist, knew that she always did resist, but that yawning blackness looked so inviting, and she was shaking so badly, losing the ability to keep herself back from it. She could feel that ability draining away— melting away, under each repeating, co-ordinated motion of Steffi’s hands.

Steffi was stroking Daisy, petting Daisy, tweaking Daisy— and then, keeping Daisy’s clit rolling under one hand’s ministrations, with the other she was teasing at Daisy’s entrance with pulls, and quick strokes.

Daisy was going to melt— or Daisy had melted down so much that one strike would shatter the ice that remained— break her forever, and then she knew, in her mind, she would give out and fall in to that void— that abyss— that darkness. And fall and fall— and the falling would feel just like this— it would always feel just exactly like this; so maybe some piece of her would stay perpetually in this moment, no matter where else Daisy’s awareness went or whatever it was she went on to feel.

This moment was already heaven— so that idea sounded fine to her.

Daisy waited for the strike that would break the last of her— waited almost impatiently now. This would be her last chance to turn back, and she knew it. But to turn back, she’d have to fight her way out from this pleasure coating her. She’d have to break through that surface, have to force alertness back into place inside her and make her clouding vision clarify.

She would have to do all that just to be able to speak again… and then she’d have to follow through with the chore of speaking itself, all only to tell Steffi she wanted her stop— when she didn’t even really want that. Daisy would have to go through all that work, in order to turn back— and her only reward would be Steffi actually stopping. And that would mean an end to this delicious pressure, this wonderful repeating sensation of Steffi’s touch… she didn’t want it to end… this time, finally, she was ready to fall into surrender… if only Steffi would give her a last push to do it…

Steffi, again, in perfect attunement to Daisy’s own thoughts, did exactly what Daisy had been hoping for. The moment in which Daisy felt perfectly ready to lose herself and give in to Steffi’s control was the moment in which Steffi slipped several fingers into Daisy’s eager pussy.

The pleasure of being filled when her body was so craving it— that pleasure was so powerful within her, and she was already so destabilized from Steffi’s coaxing touches. She was so destabilized, in fact, that it only took that last push of Steffi’s fingers slipping into her for Daisy to fall.

She had already been prepared for it, had by this point even been waiting to do it. So when Steffi gave her the physical cue— she let go. She tipped forward off the edge she’d been teetering on, and started her endless plummet. The ice that had remained even after all the rest of it had melted shattered under that one strike, and fell away. She’d been set free from her own resistance… she’d been freed… she’d been liberated of the responsibility for her own autonomy. She was Steffi’s, now, completely— and Steffi could decide what to do with her. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

The feeling of falling and falling transformed after awhile. If there was no end to a fall— if there was no ground miles below waiting for her to crash into it, then after a certain point, didn’t falling become flying? Didn’t it become flying, and stay that way?

As far as Daisy was concerned, it did. The pleasure and the freedom had given her wings that could support her indefinitely. She was light as air, floating up above everything— her mind was even too light for a thought to come into it, and weight it back down. Thoughts couldn’t get to her up here.

Steffi was still pleasuring her, with repeating touches that seemed to recur cyclically, forming patterns still as she’d been doing all along. Each touch only seemed to make Daisy feel lighter… made her feel more pleasure, made her feel more free… so she could fly higher still… when she’d thought, before she fell, that the feeling she’d been tasting would only go on and keep getting more vivd, she’d been right.

Steffi had shifted her position, so she could be kissing Daisy as she went on touching her. “You’ve fallen under permanently, now, haven’t you? I convinced you— and you let go for me. I can see the difference in you… I can feel that the last of your resistance has fallen away.”

“Yes,” Daisy said, but it was not like speaking had been before. There was no intention that had come before it— she had not needed to choose to say the word. She had not needed to expend any effort to summon it at all. She hadn’t even had time to look for it; hadn’t even known it was coming. It had appeared of its own accord, without dragging her down from her flying place, or putting words or thoughts into her head at all. It had come entirely independent of Daisy’s input.

Daisy liked it better this way. She didn’t want to lose the lightness. Didn’t want to stop that feeling of soaring which seemed to fill her.

“I knew it.” Steffi fitted the words around and in between the kisses she was still pressing to Daisy’s mouth, and which Daisy was meeting with equal enthusiasm when she placed them there. “Since you belong to me fully now— you’ll do just as I say, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Daisy repeated— or was she speaking at all? Was she only a channel now for words that had nothing to do with her? Words that had some kind of relationship or link to Steffi, and that bypassed her completely?

“Come with me into the bedroom, then,” Steffi said, and her lips were off of Daisy’s— and her hand was out from Daisy’s pussy, her other hand off of Daisy’s clit— but the pleasure in no way reduced.

The words did not resurface from within Daisy, that time, wherever it was that they were hiding inside. Instead, she stood silently when Steffi did it first, and followed her across the main room to Steffi’s bedroom door, and through it, on to Steffi’s bed.

Steffi had gotten herself undressed by the time Daisy was through the door— and when Steffi gave the command, Daisy stripped herself too.

Steffi stretched herself out along the bed, and looked back to Daisy, who was only partially aware of her. The rest of her focus was all wrapped up inside her own mind, going over and winding through that same perpetually repeating experience of flying.

“Put your mouth on me, Daisy,” Steffi instructed— and Daisy’s body was already doing it. Her lips were against Steffi’s clit, suckling at it— her tongue darted out every now and again to lick down the length of her slit. She could feel Steffi’s juices coating her face, streaking on her skin, and licked and sucked more hungrily.

Somehow, Steffi didn’t seem to need to command Daisy to these actions as she had once done. Now, like the words, they seemed to pour out of Daisy freely; she seemed to just know to do them. They had nothing to do with her anymore— nothing to do with the part of her mind she had once used to make decisions. The decisions made her, now. The actions enacted themselves, and she was only along for the ride… drifting… flying… soaring… feeling all the pleasure and freedom of it, feeling it circling through her, growing still more vivid, brighter and still brighter— with no end in sight.

“Shift around, now, Daisy,” Steffi instructed at last. “Line your hips up with me so I can put my mouth on you, too.”

Daisy followed that instruction as easily as a leaf might change direction on a shifting breeze. All movement, all action was so light now— came so easily. Why had she resisted for so long, clung to that hard shell which had kept her weighted down and heavy? It felt so much better to be light now, and drifting. It felt so much better to drift along the breeze of Steffi’s intentions then to try and direct the movements and actions of her body herself.

When Daisy had lined herself up according to Steffi’s request, she lowered her mouth again to Steffi’s mound, and resumed licking and kissing there. She was rewarded for following this direct command— though it already seemed that Steffi needed direct commands less and less the longer Daisy’s state of mind went on. But Daisy was rewarded, with the feeling of Steffi’s mouth against her, licking and teasing at Daisy’s own sensitive places. It made Daisy’s whole body shiver— she could already feel that she was trembling and twitching against Steffi’s mouth.

And yet, though Steffi’s attentions bid the pleasure rise higher in her, Daisy was apart from it. Part of her went with it, part of her rose when the pleasure rose, to follow it.

But part of her kept flying— part of her was wrapped in a constant pleasure which neither lessened nor grew, but went on evenly, perpetually. The pleasure of flying— the pleasure of mental freedom— the pleasure of obedience.

And while the part of her that retained some awareness of the external world would perhaps rise and fall in pleasure, in co-ordination with the physical sensations of her body; the part of her that was flying above it all never would. It would always stay just as it was— free, soaring high. It was a new constant within her.

The knowledge of that brought such satisfaction that it boosted the physical pleasure in Steffi’s body. But it was unnecessary.

Even the constant itself would have been enough.