The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Renee kept her eyes closed, focusing only on her breathing and her tone as she pictured the audience sitting in front of her, looking at her, enraptured, waiting for her to sing. As she expelled the air from her lungs, singing her way up a simple scale, she opened her eyes. The audience wasn’t there. Not yet. For now, she was standing in front of the mirror in her dressing room, waiting for tonight’s performance to begin. She always got the pre-show jitters, but her voice was perfect. Of course it was. She’d worked so hard to be in this position: prima donna of the London opera, singing in front of a huge audience every single evening at the Royal Opera House. She worked hard every day to ensure she stayed there. She was prima donna because she was the best. For Renee, that thought contained no arrogance or boastfulness. It was just a fact. She wasn’t the best because she was special. She was the best because she had some talent, and because she worked harder than anyone else. Thinking of herself as the best was equal parts a reminder to work hard and a reward for the hard work she’d already done. She deserved a reward, she felt, after everything she’d given up.

Continuing her vocal warm-ups, so familiar she could do them in her sleep, Renee looked at herself in the mirror. She looked perfect too, although she couldn’t take credit for that. That was all down to the makeup and costume people. They ensured her pale blonde hair flowed down her neck in rich curls, and her makeup brought out her brilliant blue eyes. They also did their best to flatter her physique, although that was a harder and more thankless task, at least to Renee’s mind. She’d never liked being short.

Her warm-ups were interrupted by a knock at the door. Renee recognized the knock as that of Jacob, the stage manager. She frowned. She hadn’t been expecting the ten minute warning for quite a while. Had she lost track of time? That was unlike her. “What is it?” she called out.

“Renee.” She recognized Jacob’s gruff voice through the door. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Renee’s frown grew deeper. That wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be disturbed like that before a show, not for anyone. She needed to focus. “What the hell, Jacob? You know you’re not supposed to bring anyone back to see me.” Even in the opera world, there were creepy fans and asshole journalists to be on guard against. Jacob was normally so good at keeping them all at bay. “Who is it?”

“She…” Renee could have sworn Jacob sounded faintly embarrassed. “She said it’s important, and she said she’s your girlfriend. And… well… it’s…”

“I know who it is.” Renee let out a very, very long sigh. There was only person in the world who would be stupid enough and audacious enough to lie like that. “You can come in, Chiara.”

The door to her dressing room opened and a tall, rake-thin woman with long, dark, silky-smooth hair waltzed into the room. Renee had to fight to keep an even expression on her face. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with Chiara right before a show. Seeing her ex-girlfriend made her feel all kinds of complicated things. She’d considered telling her to go away, but she knew Chiara was the kind of woman who never gave up once she set her mind to something, and never did anything important unless she’d firmly set her mind on it. The best way to get this off her mind so she could focus on her performance was to hear Chiara out now and make sure it was all over and done with, whatever ‘it’ was, before the curtain rose.

Once the door swung shut behind her, Chiara started speaking in her melodic, chocolate-rich Italian accent. “It’s so good to see you again, my songbird. I—”

“Don’t call me that,” Renee snapped. She was already regretting allowing Chiara to come in. That one word—‘songbird’—had been like a knife to her heart. It wasn’t just an offhand term of endearment. It was their word. It was Renee’s title, or at least it had been. Until just a month or two ago, she’d been Chiara’s songbird. Chiara was more than just her ex-girlfriend. She was her ex-mistress. Chiara had been her dominant, and Renee, Chiara’s submissive. Their relationship had been wonderfully intense, loving and kinky—until it had ended. Breaking up with Chiara was the hardest thing Renee had ever done. She’d shed more tears than she’d ever thought possible. Being called ‘songbird’ again, her songbird, was enough to conjure up all kinds difficult emotions she’d failed to properly bury.

“I’m sorry,” Chiara said. The expression in her eyes was unreadable, but it contained more than a little sadness. Renee hated that seeing her like that made her feel sad too. “I just…”

“What do you want, Chiara?” Renee interrupted. “What are you even doing, coming here like this? You know how this works, you know I have to be on stage soon. You know I need this time.”

Chiara was just as acquainted with the world of opera as Renee. She was a composer. That was how they’d first met. Chiara was no less a star than Renee, albeit in a different way. She was famous for the boldness and experimentation of her compositions, and Renee had found them being introduced at a party in Milan. They’d hit it off instantly, talking and laughing together all night in their own little world, ignoring everyone else. Neither one of them had asked the other out properly. They’d both just known that they were together. It had felt so right. The kink came naturally too. Chiara had such incredibly, irrepressible energy. Being in a room with her was like being in a room with a hurricane, and Renee had loved being swept up by her. Chiara had given her love, structure, and the sweet bliss of submission.

But it couldn’t have lasted.

“I… I came to ask you…” Chiara seemed suddenly hesitant. “I came to ask you to get back together with me.”

“Chiara…” Renee sighed again. “We’ve talked about this. It can’t work.”

“It can!” Chiara insisted fiercely.

“No,” Renee replied through gritted teeth. She really didn’t want this to turn into an argument. Not now. “You… I… we can’t give each other what we want. You want too much of me, and… I want to give it to you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Chiara asked emphatically, gesturing, emotion thick in her voice.

“The problem is, you’re not the only thing in my life!” Renee felt like screaming. It wasn’t the first time she’d explained this to Chiara. “You want me to be your submissive, your slave, to worship and serve you always, and… that sounds amazing. It does. But it’s a fantasy. It can’t work for us. For me. When I tried to give you that, my work and my singing suffered. That’s not OK. And when I put those things first, the way I need to, it… you couldn’t handle it.” They’d started fighting. Arguing in ways that had seemed impossible before. For Renee, it had soured everything. She could sense Chiara resenting her for pulling back at every moment, and their kink had become tainted by a sense of hollowness compared to what they’d had before. Renee hadn’t been able to take it anymore. She couldn’t keep being with Chiara like that, especially because there was always that temptation to run back into her arms and beg her to take everything all over again.

“It’s different now!” Chiara protested.

“No,” Renee repeated. “It isn’t. It won’t be. It hasn’t been long enough for us to change the way we’d need to.”

“Not like that!” Renee found herself seething at the indignation in Chiara’s voice. She had no right to talk to her like that, damn it! “I mean, I’ve thought of a way we can make it work. I can give you what you want, what I want, without taking anything away from your work! Renee, it’s all we ever wanted!”

“You’re not listening!” Renee realized she’d shouted, and forced herself to take a moment to calm down before speaking again. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to hear them fighting. “No. I’m saying no, Chiara. I’ve already said it. I don’t want it anymore.” That was a lie, but Renee wished it wasn’t. “I don’t want you anymore.” An even bigger lie. “Now just… leave. Please. Don’t ever come here like this again.”

“Renee…” Chiara sounded utterly crestfallen. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”

“No!” Renee felt tears welling her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. She couldn’t. She already had her makeup on. She took a deep breath, and decided to be as honest as she possible could. “Chiara, you’re right. That does sound like everything I’ve wanted. But… I don’t believe in it. Not anymore. And I can’t stand how much it’s going to hurt when it doesn’t work out. I wish we could be together… but we can’t. I’m sorry.”

She was expecting Chiara to argue, like she always did. Chiara was willful, and had a temper. But instead, Chiara fell silent and just looked down at the floor, for a long time. Renee found herself, once again, feeling bitterly sorry for her ex. She wondered if she’d finally gotten through to her, if she’d finally made Chiara realize it was over. Chiara didn’t seem sad, though. Not exactly. Instead, she seemed somehow indecisive. She seemed like she was trapped in the midst of making the hardest decision of her life. When she looked up again, her eyes were smoldering with fiery passion. But she didn’t argue, at least not the way Renee had been expecting.

“I’m sorry for coming here like this.” Chiara said abruptly. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t do anything like this ever again. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you!” Renee gushed, although her feelings were strangely mixed.

“But.” Chiara raised one manicured finger. “There is a condition. You have to do just one thing for me, right here, right now.”

“What?”

“I wrote you a song.” Chiara set down her handbag, reached inside, and pulled out several pieces of paper, rolled up and bound with a purple ribbon. “An aria. I wrote it just for you. It’s… special. I want you to sing it for me. If you sing it and you still don’t want to be with me, I can accept it.”

Renee breathed a sigh of relief. That was exactly the kind of melodramatic gesture that Chiara would come up with. And that was all it was—a gesture. It was harmless. This was going to be easier than she’d expected. She’d sing Chiara’s song, and then tell her to leave, and then she’d never have to worry about this kind of thing ever again. Chiara could be selfish, and was willful and persistent to a fault, but Renee had never known her to break her word. Certainly not maliciously.

“Fine,” Renee said, holding out her hand. “Give it here. I’ll sing it for you, if that’s what you want. But it’s not going to change the way I feel.”

Chiara didn’t say anything, just put the scroll in Renee’s hand. Renee whipped off the ribbon and unfurled the pages, and started looking at the sheet music. It was an aria, a piece for just one, female voice, and it was in Italian, like most of Chiara’s compositions. That wasn’t a problem. But as she read over the music more and more, she noticed something strange. The melody line was… wrong. No, not wrong. But very very unusual. The movements, the rhythm, the note progressions and the key changes—none of it was conventional. At first she couldn’t imagine it sounding anything other than cacophonous, but as she ran through a few bars in her head, it made a surprising amount of sense.

“Where did you come up with this?” Renee murmured to herself.

“I wanted to try something new. Something that’s never been done before.” Chiara sounded proud. “I used cutting-edge psychological research as a reference. Evidence suggests that certain mathematical and harmonic patterns, embedded in music, can bypass surface-level thinking completely and evoke incredibly powerful thoughts and emotions, no matter what. If I’m right, it’ll be groundbreaking.”

Renee stared at her incredulously for a moment. “Right,” she said finally. It sounded ridiculous to her, but it was exactly the sort of thing Chiara would do. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Renee stepped back from Chiara, holding the sheet music aloft in front of her and standing up perfectly straight, her body perfectly positioned to let her sing her heart out and project her presence across a stage. Scanning the music and lyrics one more time, she began to sing. Her tempo was slow at first, as she grappled with the unfamiliar melody, but her voice quickly gained strength. As much as she was only doing this to get rid of Chiara, her pride wouldn’t let her give anything other than a flawless performance. To her surprise, while the song was unlike any of the classical forms Renee was familiar with and was just as experimental as Chiara had claimed, it was strangely intuitive. Renee found the words and the tones rising to her lips with little effort. It felt as though the song was flowing through her, a feeling Renee usually only attained after hours upon hours of exhausting practice. It was a struggle for her not to admire Chiara’s skill and boldness as a composer.

She raised her voice as the song reached its first chorus, and quickly found she was losing herself to the music. She didn’t need to concentrate on the technical aspects; the emotion of it was enough to guide her. Renee felt each note, each lyric, before she sang it, barely needing to read the sheet music at all, and found herself getting swept up in the raw pathos of the song. It was a love song, of course, a song about the incredible, life-changing power of a bond between two soulmates—all very melodramatic, or so Renee had thought at first. On her first reading she’d dismissed the overtly romantic theme as Chiara’s plaintively obvious way of trying to convince her to give her another chance, but now she found herself embracing it, throwing her heart and soul behind each word she sang. She could never help herself getting caught up in the song, especially when the song was so beautiful and she was giving such a wonderful performance. Pangs of intense emotion started to hit her, coming not just from the song, but from within her. Renee resisted them at first, but she soon realized that there was no reason to suppress or deny her own feelings. Yes, she accepted, she admired Chiara as a composer. Chiara was brilliant. A genius, in fact. But that didn’t change anything between them.

Or did it? It was probably just because she was feeling sentimental from singing about love, but Renee caught herself smiling fondly as she was drawn back to fonder memories. Singing for Chiara was reminding her of all the nights they’d spend together. Often, Chiara had used Renee to test out her newest compositions, scrawling something manically on a sheet of paper, making her sing it, then making some changes and demanding she sing it all over again. Renee had always rolled her eyes and told Chiara off for being such a workaholic, but she’d loved it. It had felt so intimate and nice. She was enjoying being able to feel that again, singing for Chiara once more. Wait, singing for Chiara? No, she was singing to get rid of Chiara, Renee reminded herself. That thought felt sadder than ever.

“Now, it changes,” Chiara instructed. “Sing slower! More rhythmic!”

Renee bristled at the commands, but kept singing. As Chiara had described, the music changed, becoming slower and calmer with long, extended phrases that made Renee take deep, careful breaths. But just like before, there was nothing difficult or frustrating about the singing. It was deeply intuitive, so much so that Renee found herself operating almost automatically, zoning out a little before refocusing herself on what she was doing. She didn’t want to mess up and disappoint Chiara. If Chiara was disappointed, she might not leave; that was the only reason, of course. But Renee didn’t feel too worried about the possibility. She wasn’t going to mess this up. Not only because she never did, but because she could feel that she was in the zone. It was like she could already hear the whole song inside her head, just waiting to come out. When she thought about it like that, it became easier and easier to push out all the confusing distractions and intrusive thoughts and concentrate on nothing but the beautifully soporific music inside her.

“Good,” Chiara murmured. “Listen now. Really hear the music.”

Again, Renee bristled but obeyed. The more she listened, the more she sang, the calmer she felt. She was thankful for the calm. She needed it, after the way Chiara had rattled her nerves by showing up unannounced. Ironically, for the longest time, Chiara had been the only person who’d been able to calm Renee down before an important performance. She’d taken such comfort in the way Chiara, as her owner, seemed to be able to effortlessly make her feel safe and secure and like everything was going to be OK. She didn’t need that anymore. That was what she’d been telling herself ever since she’d broken up with Chiara. She didn’t need it anymore. It was true. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want it so so badly, and right now she wanted it more than ever. She’d give anything to kneel before Chiara again—almost anything. Just not her singing career, and she knew that was what it would end up costing, whatever Chiara pretended.

The song changed again, becoming a song of loss and longing. Renee felt herself succumb to the penetrating sadness. She had to blink back tears. This was beyond the normal feelings she got from singing. What was happening to her? It was like the song was piercing a hole in her heart. She’d never experienced anything like the raw sadness she was feeling at that moment. Maybe Chiara was on to something. Maybe her ‘groundbreaking’ music wasn’t as ridiculous as it had sounded. The more she sang, the worse she felt, to the point that she feared she wasn’t going to be able to keep herself from breaking down into sobs. But she still wasn’t willing to stop. She had to make it through this. She had to.

“It’s OK,” Chiara soothed. Renee hadn’t noticed her take a few steps closer. “You can do this, Renee.”

Somehow, that gave Renee the strength to rally. She hated that Chiara was that person, but it was really comforting to feel like she had someone in her corner for once, instead of just making demands of her or expecting things from her. Chiara had never done that, she realized. Obviously it hadn’t worked out, but Chiara had always supported her, always encouraged her totally selflessly. Renee hadn’t had that feeling of support since they’d broken up. That was another thing she’d sorely missed, without even being conscious of it. This song she was singing was putting her in a reflective mood, and now that she thought about it, ever since leaving Chiara it was like whole parts of her were missing. Had… had she made a mistake? She still didn’t think so. She’d had her reasons, and those reasons hadn’t changed.

“So far, you are perfect,” Chiara said, putting strange butterflies in Renee’s stomach. “But that was only the introduction. It is meant to prepare the audience, to make them exposed and open to the real power of the music.”

Chiara’s words marked yet another shift, this one even more profound. It took Renee a moment to adapt her style of singing to this new movement. It was barely lyrical, the words soaring and stretching into huge, overarching tones that tested the limits of Renee’s range. Each word, each note, each pitch, seemed to flow into the next perfectly naturally. Once again, Renee had to marvel at the beauty of the composition, and she was starting to feel a sense of pride at being a part of the music Chiara had created for her. Was that wrong? She wasn’t sure. Wasn’t that what every singer wanted? To be the vessel for great art? Chiara was certainly a great artist. Renee had no compunctions about admitting that now. It would be childish of her to pretend otherwise.

“Keep going,” Chiara urged. She was standing right beside Renee now, and put a hand on her shoulder. It was only the lightest of touches, but it still made Renee shiver. At Chiara’s urging, Renee raised her voice and strengthened it, and was rewarded when Chiara started to move her hand around, rubbing the back of Renee’s shoulder in a small, relaxing, circular motion.

As she sang on, started to feel the strangest thing: her senses blurring together. The smooth way Chiara was moving her hands was in time with the music, and somehow it felt as though it was part of the music. The vibrations running through Renee, from both Chiara’s hands and Chiara’s song, seemed to go both ways. It was like a kind of synesthesia. She could feel the music in her body, and she could hear Chiara’s touch in the music. Chiara moved behind her, massaging both her shoulders, and the feeling grew even stronger. Renee was entranced by it. It was magical. Feeling this in tune and synchronized with the music was every singer’s greatest dream. Why was she only feeling this now, with Chiara touching her, guiding her? She wasn’t sure, but it felt right.

Renee knew in her heart that this was the best she’d ever sounded. It was the best singing of her life… and she was with Chiara. Chiara had always made her better. That realization felt like a long-lost memory, uncovered from deep within herself. Being Chiara’s pet had made her better. Chiara had given her comfort when no-one else could, allowing her to keep going. Chiara had pushed her to flourish, giving her confidence and courage she’d never had before. Even when they’d fought, even when Renee had left, maybe she’d only been able to do that because of a strength Chiara had taught her. She still knew she’d left for a good reason. Singing was still so important to her, and she wasn’t going to give that up for Chiara’s sake. But wasn’t that what Chiara was trying to show her? That she didn’t have to make any sacrifices to be with her? Maybe she was right.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Chiara whispered. It was like she knew exactly what Renee was thinking, but that didn’t alarm her. When Chiara had been her mistress, she’d always seemed to know that. “You can still be my songbird.”

That word struck Renee like a thunderbolt, so much so that her song faltered as she almost whimpered with longing. But that didn’t break the deep musical trance she was lost in, and she picked up the song again as quickly as she could. She knew that was what Chiara would want.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to choose,” Chiara continued. “That was so foolish of me. I wanted to tell you it was different now, but you wouldn’t listen. So I had to show you.”

Renee nodded. She wished she’d listened at first, but she was glad Chiara had shown her. Spellbound by the music, she was awestruck at the fact that an amazing person like Chiara was so devoted to her. She couldn’t just turn her back on that. She couldn’t imagine wanting that. But could it always be like this? Renee didn’t know. Maybe. Why not? As the wondrous music she was singing weaved its way through her mind, she felt increasingly confident in it. Maybe that was just what Chiara wanted her to feel; at this point, Renee did not doubt the power of her music. But did that matter? Someone making her feel this safe and owned and important and loved was exactly what she’d always wanted.

The music she was singing took yet another turn, into what Renee could somehow sense was the final part of the song. The notes and annotations, written in Chiara’s elaborate handwriting, called for a sharp contrast to the previous section, and Renee found her voice becoming upbeat, tender and warm. Loving. It wasn’t up to her anymore. She wasn’t singing, she was letting the song sing through her. Her voice was Chiara’s now. So was her mind. Chiara’s song was weaving, coiling, spiraling around her head, keeping all her thoughts and feelings wrapped up and under control. It felt amazing. Feeling like her thoughts belonged to someone else, feeling like she didn’t have to be in control of it all, be responsible for anything. It was so freeing.

“Renee,” Chiara breathed, right in her ear. “Close your eyes.”

Renee was confused, but was powerless to refuse or resist. With her eyes closed, she could no longer see the music sheet she was reading from. But that didn’t make any difference. She kept on singing, just as confidently as before. She instinctively knew exactly what would come next, and sure enough, it sounded perfect. Part of Renee was amazed, although to another part of her, it felt perfectly natural that everything would work out exactly as Chiara said it would. With her eyes closed, the effect of the music was even stronger. There was nothing but the music, and it was filled with Chiara’s touch and Chiara’s presence. Renee was overwhelmed by the love she felt.

“Almost over now,” Chiara murmured. “Make it perfect for me.”

Renee was energised by the command, and she put everything into the last few notes of the song, pushing her voice to soaring heights to make Chiara’s song, a song of love and worship, sound as perfect as she knew it should. When the song ended and her voice finally died away, she was left breathing hard from the exertion. But she wasn’t left in silence. Even after she stopped singing, her head was filled with music. The song kept going, inside her, round and round, showing her new movements, new twists and turns, all of them beautiful and loving and bearing Chiara’s creative mark. Renee could only stand there, completely still, entranced by the melody in her head.

“That was perfect. Good girl.” Chiara’s praise set off an incredible burst of happiness in Renee’s head. She felt her face slacken into a vacuous, happy grin. “The song’s inside you now, isn’t it?” Renee nodded. “Good. It’s going to stay that way for a long long time. I poured my heart and soul into that song, and now it’s making you mine. Forever. If it ever starts to fade, I’ll put it back there all over again. Is that OK?”

Renee nodded. She wanted nothing more than to be filled with Chiara’s song. She wanted to belong to her.

“Wonderful.” Chiara planted a kiss on the side of Renee’s neck, and Renee melted. “You’re mine now, OK? This time, it will work out. I know it. You don’t have to choose between singing and serving me anymore. They can be one and the same. My song is within you, and you’ll be thinking of it every time you perform. Every song you sing out there on that stage will be service to me. You can worship me with your voice, with your amazing talent, every single day. And I’ll be so proud of you.”

Renee was nodding over and over again, so deliriously happy that joyful tears were forming in her eyes. Guided by Chiara’s hands she turned around, and found herself looking straight at her love. Her mistress. Her owner. Chiara pulled her in for a kiss, but before their lips touched, she said the words Renee had been longing to hear for so long.

“You’re my songbird again.”