The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

She is kneeling in front of him—in front of me.

“I will show you how I want you to be,” he states. Mister Talv’s voice is strong and calm and commanding and it has a pleasing resonance in his skull.

He has locked each wrist to an ankle; now K. wriggles and twists but cannot escape the kneeling position. He’s well equipped here; just to make sure he adds a spreader bar to her ankles. Back arched, strapped in place, she kneels, and there is no way she is going anywhere.

She gazes at him compliantly, and I stare right back through his eyes. This wasn’t in the suite of dreams, memories, memes, I have gifted her. I wonder how she feels? There is no way to tell directly, from this point of view. But I am pretty sure K. is now independently self-actualizing. She wants to achieve her potential.

“This is how you are,” he says to K. “This is your first natural position, and I want you to remember it.”

He pulls a large metal dildo from a drawer. It’s ridged and fluted—quite a work of art. I can see there is an arsenal of things in there. The dildo seems to come with its own straps.

“Lift,” he orders her. K. strains to lift her rear off the bed. Just enough for him to slide the implement into her; it slips home high and deep. With quick dexterity, he loops the straps around K.’s thighs, left, right, click, clack, and it is securely in place. K. is breathing hard but I can see she is becoming aroused to new and interesting levels.

“Try it,” says Mister Talv. “Experiment. Show me what you’d like to do if that was a real cock, my cock.”

K. shifts experimentally, and gasps, as it shifts inside her. I wish I could be with her right now, in her point of view, but right now there is no contact, no conduit. I drink in her experience with his eyes, and watch her blissful torment unfold.

She begins to ride the device, slowly at first, then faster and faster as she strains to come. Her movements are severely restricted by the bonds at her wrists and ankles, and I can see the desperate frustration in her face as she tries to ride the thing harder—thighs spread, head thrown back, every muscle taut—but there is just not quite enough give in her bonds. Tensing her thighs, and straining to spread herself wider, she can inch the thing in and out just a little.

(She rolls her hips to a deeper Cajun rhythm. She is pleasing to men. Pleasuring men is a … plus meilleure raison d’être, ne est-ce pas?)

She twists and squirms on her fulcrum, seeking the elusive ne plus ultra. Every thrust brings her hotter, wetter, closer. Never close enough.

K. is kneeling, panting, writhing, pinioned on the unforgiving metal cock. She licks her lips.

He moves towards her and her mouth opens wider to receive him. She wriggles in her bonds, locked tight in position, and I can see her straining to feel the dildo move inside her.

Her mouth closes around Mister Talv’s cock, and begins to match the constrained rhythm of her hips.

Contact and I shift point of view. K.’s on fire; the bounded movement against the heavy thrust of the dildo is achingly tangible. Every tiny shift brings a new wave of almost-but-not-quite orgasm. It is intense.

With mindless instinct, she sucks him.

“Your first natural position—on your knees,” he states. “For my pleasure. Remember this well. Sometimes I will bind you like this. See: the straps are just tight enough to stop the movement you crave, but loose enough to frustrate you. This is by design. My design. Everything is by my design.

“It’s often easier and more memorable for you to take orders like this, and certainly, if you have your mouth full there will be no argument . Correct?”

K.’s mouth bobs, an extra suck of assent, and the movement sends a jolt of arousal through her loins as the dildo shifts again.

“So you agree this is your first natural position?”

Suck. Yes.

“Now. While you are here, with me, I want you to imagine that my cock is in your mouth, all the time. Do not speak without my permission. This is of importance. Do you understand?”

Bob. Yes.

“Good. Sometimes I will order you to take this position, unbound. If you deviate from it in any way, you will be bound, to remind you, and you will be punished. So you will need to practice this—hard. It is not supposed to be easy.”

K. is fellating him harder, faster, and the rolling of her hips is at the very limit of her bonds. Mister Talv’s self-control is excellent, for a man, and although I can feel he is close, he pulls away from her.

I shift back to his point of view just in time.

He unlocks her wrists from her ankles and removes the metal dildo. She still wears the spreader bar. Despite his throbbing erection, he feels calm and in control. His thoughts are focused.

This woman will be entirely mine, thinks Mister Talv. She will beg to be used. She wants this.

“Stand,” he orders. K. stands, a little shakily.

“Good girl,” he says. “That is step one. Now we consider step two.”

He orders her to bend over, legs wide apart but straight, and then she arches her back and looks at him over her shoulder. Awaiting instructions.

“Legs straighter,” he orders.

K.’s looking at me over her shoulder, ass in the air and wide open to the world. Her pussy is quivering.

“This is going to be your second natural position,” orders Mister Talv. “I want you to learn it thoroughly. Put your hands behind your back.”

She instinctively complies, almost falling, but finding a renewed balance somehow.

Mister Talv sees a living orgasm. Flexible, too; feet apart, legs ramrod straight, but bent almost double at the waist. He has her hold that position, the tension in her legs and back making her tremble with effort. Twice she nearly relaxes out of it, but a whack on the ass soon sets her straight. Staring ahead, she holds the position while he toys with a nipple. He tweaks it and I feel her shudder under his hand, but she holds position. He’s getting hard again. He is in control.

“Slut,” he adds.

“Slut,” I think.

“Slut,” breathes K.

He cuffs her hands behind her back. I can tell he is not satisfied with the spread of her legs; he widens the spreader bar at her ankles a notch, then another, until he is happy.

“In your second natural position, I may decide to whip you,” says Mister Talv. “Or I may decide to take you. In any way I see fit. Or, I may decide anything I wish. You are open to me in every way.”

She raises her head slightly, questioning.

I notice her mouth is at the exact height of his cock. K.’s lips are parted. It’s almost as if she can’t stop herself. She holds the position, legs astride, mouth open, awaiting instructions.

Mister Talv walks behind her. I feel his hard cock push into tight, hot, wetness. K. trembles and moans and moves her hips to take him deeper. I can see it is hard for her to keep her legs straight, but keep them straight she does, and the roll of her pelvis is exquisite pleasure on his cock. He grabs her hips and pushes deep and hard. If she could open wider for him, I believe she would.

K. is gasping harder by the second. “Please,” she moans, “Please make me come.”

He stops, and slaps her ass hard. He pulls out.

“Wrong,” barks Mister Talv. “You have some learning to do.”

K.’s eyes widen and her ass squirms as he thrusts a large vibrator deep into her pussy and holds it there, just the hilt showing. He can actually see her pussy tightening around it. He cranks the thing onto a deep vibe setting and lets go. I watch the end of it vibrating as she grips it harder, and then he walks round to face her. The slut—K.—is breathing hard.

There is no Contact. I can’t help her. I watch from his point of view, fascinated.

“You don’t get to ask,” he says. “You come at my whim. Do you understand?”

K. nods.

“Hold that position, and hold that vibe in,” orders Mister Talv, knowing it will be a challenge. No straps, this time, just her pussy’s own tight grip.

The girl is positively oozing wetness. He can see her clenching her belly and buttocks to try to keep hold of the vibe.

“Good girl. But there’s one more thing I need you need to learn today.”

He’s got another dildo to hand. He shows it to K. and she watches as he oils the shaft of the thing. It’s smaller, but not by much, and slightly ribbed.

Of course, I know exactly what’s coming, but this is outside her ken…

As he begins to push at her clenched ass, first gently and then harder, K. stifles a shriek. She squirms, desperately trying to escape its pressure, and as he lays a hand on her ass to steady his target—Contact—I switch.

Just in time. I give her a blast of 17th Century Unnamed Catamite to So-and-So’s Privy Councillor (the names escape me, but trust me, it’s true). Her ass opens as if born to, and the dildo slides in smooth and true. Doubly impaled, she comes at once, at last, fast and hard. She shudders in position, but holds. The shafts of both implements quiver in situ.

I feel what she feels: completely dominated by this man. Controlled.

Her instinct: Obéissance.

I have excelled myself.

As he enters her welcoming mouth, I switch back to Mister Talv’s point of view. What he sees is a triply penetrated slut with exceptional positional control. He is secretly very pleased with his find—her—and with himself. He is wondering if she will be able to keep the dildos in. I wonder this too—especially faced with the challenge of sucking him off at the same time.

Amazingly, she does. I am tempted to jump back to her, but I’m enjoying myself far too much, and as he comes in her mouth I glory again in the simple needs of men.

Then I’m back with K.

“Stay,” he commands. We hear him rummaging in some section of his arsenal. I want to turn around and have a look, but K.’s locked resolutely in position, concentrating on holding these dildos inside her, per instructions. Bent double, she doesn’t budge. She’s gone submissive to the max. I feel the tension in her thighs and calves. Nothing I can do.

“Remember, this is your second natural position. It requires discipline. Practice it. I will give you something to help you learn.”

The soft but firm feeling of a leather belt fastened around K.’s waist, and the click of a lock. A strap suddenly tightening between her legs. A pull, tighter, and it’s clear these straps have a steel band inside them. One tug, and the ribbed dildo slides further inside, opening her wider still, and K. stretches herself to accommodate it. Another click. The big vibe is still going strong, and we’re locked up tight, still in position.

“You can stand up now,” he says.

As K. straightens, the dildos make themselves felt in new and unexpected ways. She wriggles, still handcuffed, still spread at the ankles, trying to get comfortable. There is no position that doesn’t deliver stimulation. I am impressed. He unbuckles the spreader at her ankles, and unlocks the cuffs. K. shakes circulation back into her hands.

He does not unlock the belt.

He waves a key at her.

“Now listen.” he says. “This is for, how shall we say this, training purposes. Realistically, you can get the belt off if you want, if you can bear the embarrassment of asking someone else to do it... in which case I guarantee you will never see me again. Or—you can come back tomorrow evening and you can show me how you have learned. Make a case for yourself. Good case, I will listen. Good times. Bad case, I won’t. Not so good times. Now get dressed and go.”

K., locked in a double dildo trance, says: “Yes. My cunt is warm and wet and hungry.” And then she adds, almost an afterthought: “Mon cul est fermé. My ass is tight, but yearns to open to you.”

“Cul? So you talk filthy French, do you?” he says, amused. “Bon. See, I do too. Moi aussi. Un peut. I am a citizen of the world. Ne pas oublier: t’es une esclave-chienne en chaleur. Tu es ma propriété. Bien?”

K. thrills to his words. A flurry of irresistible muscle memory, and she rolls her hips slightly on the dildos. There is, as expected, just enough movement to make it interesting, but too little give to deliver.

“A slave-bitch in heat, she recites in her head. “Your property.”

Oh, how she wants more.

“Please … won’t you unlock this and take me again before I go?” She is almost begging him.

He smiles. “I think not. Remember, you don’t get to ask. Come back tomorrow and I will, let’s say, ah, expliquer les termes et conditions. Now say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” says K., eyes down and desperately conscious of the pulsating thing between her legs, and the tightness of the belt securing her. She wonders how she will get through the next 24 hours.

“Thank you, Mister Talv,” he orders, tweaking a nipple.

“Thank you, Mister Talv.”

“Good girl,” he says.

“Good girl,” we think, as one.

“One more thing,” says Mister Talv. He holds up a round steel collar. It looks heavy and well crafted, and very like the one I have seen in his memories. The metal glints in the soft light of his apartment.

“When you come back tomorrow, be aware that there is much more for you to learn. I look forward to seeing you then.”

Such riches to add to my treasure store of memes.