[Fiction] Trust/Fall 2.4

Okay, I swear I’m not going to fall into the habit of making the fourth part of each chapter the lewd part.

If you missed the previous installments, check here!

I tossed my keys on the counter and glanced back at Vivian. “Well, here it is. Don’t judge.”

She smiled as she hung her coat on the rack by the door and looked around the place. I blushed a bit and made myself busy in the kitchenette. I hadn’t really intended for dinner to lead to- actually, no, that would be a lie. I had very much intended dinner to lead to something else. I just hadn’t expected that we’d be coming here. The place was less immaculate than I would have liked: dishes in the sink, discarded outfits near my dresser, underwear on the top of the laundry bin, etc.

Vivian had followed me into the kitchenette and I gasped a little as her arms slid around my waist and her lips pressed against the back of my neck. “No judgement. Promise. I like seeing where you live, Zoe. I like knowing more about you.”

I could feel my cheeks burning scarlet as my pulse quickened just having her this close. “You do?” I said as I closed my eyes and leaned back against her. I smiled as I pulled her arms tight around me and indulged in her embrace.

“Of course,” she said as she let her mouth wander up until she was whispering into my ear. “It lets me know just how to get into that pretty little mind of yours.”

I laughed and turned my head, my lips meeting her cheek. And then our lips came together and for a moment I lost myself in the taste of her. After the kiss broke she smiled that dangerous little smile of hers, kissed me once on the cheek, and whispered something else into my ear, something I didn’t quite hear.

My body felt as though something inside was starting to unwind. A knot of heat twisted and radiated out through my chest. A moment ago, I had been gently leaning against Vivian, luxuriating in her attention. Now, I was clutching at her, clinging to her, desperate. Her arms tightened around me and she kissed the top of my head. “Shhhh…I’ve got you, kitten.”

And then she said that word again. My body arched, sweat beaded my brow, half formed sounds tumbled from my lips. And again. If not from her arms I would have tumbled to the floor. My legs were weak, my thighs clenched helplessly. Again, I half heard syllables falling from her lips. And I came with her kissing my ear. My whole body shook as I cried out in mindless, inarticulate bliss. And the whole time she held me close.

Finally, she gently let me go. Still unable to stand, she helped me slide awkwardly down the length of her until I was on my knees on the floor. With one hand she gently but firmly guided my chin to look up at her.

“Now, are you going to stop worrying about disappointing me?”

“Yes” I managed, barely a gasp.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mistress”

[Update] A Kind of Milestone

I don’t remember exactly how old I was. But I do remember I was in highschool and where I was living at the time. Like most kids I had seen mind control in cartoons and I had a fascination with stage magic and hypnosis from a pretty young age. So in some ways it’s kind of surprising I didn’t find the Erotic Mind Control Story Archive (EMCSA) sooner.

When I did though? It opened up entirely new realms of the fetish to me. It showed me so many thing that my young mind was probably unprepared for. And, importantly it let me know that I wasn’t alone in having this particular fascination. Fast forward to today and it’s still a major source of erotic entertainment for me. Even more than that, it’s how I met my two best friends. So it’s probably safe to say that it changed my life in some ways.

Which brings us to today. Earlier this week I finally managed to get my act together and submit one of my stories to the Archive. And it came out as part of today’s update. A Kind of Magic, originally serialized here on the blog, was my first successful attempt to write mind control erotica. And I’m really proud that it’s out in the world, I like to think that past me would be appropriately impressed.

[Fiction] Trust/Fall 2.3

Did someone say montage?

If you missed the previous installment, please click here!

I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and stared across the counter at a hyperactive barista who had just rattled through way too many options way too fast. “Uh…cappuccino? An extra shot of espresso. Mmm…make that two shots,” I managed. As I dumped just a little extra sugar into the rich brown bliss, the aroma of coffee triggered memories of Vivian’s lipstick and her soft, genially predatory smile.

“So in a population approximating a normal distribution, which is our go to assumption for all randomly selected sample populations, some individuals will have an acute response while others may have no apparent response. Now, you can’t assume that…” I flexed my fingers and tried to focus. I loved this stuff but the professor was making it hopelessly dry and dull. Why do some people have voices that just kind of fail at captivating the human brain? Now, Viv’s voice, well I could listen to that for hours.

I tensed and arched my hips up off of my bed. One hand sliding slickly between my legs, the other busily toying with my left breast. I didn’t even try to be quiet. Sweat shimmered across my skin and my bangs clung to my forehead. My breath came quick and ragged as I felt my body build to the climax I needed. With an inarticulate scream that might have been a curse of pleasure, my orgasm took me, wrenching and wonderful. I collapsed back exhausted and laughing. Shaking my head that what had pushed me over the edge were thoughts of her.

Jacques smiled as they held a clove cigarillo between lips painted a dark, vibrant green and triumphantly put their last domino down on the rickety table. “Boom. I win.” They preened and blew a smoke ring up towards the awning protecting us from drizzle. “I- uh…hey, Zoe? You look a little distracted. Wait…did you let me win?” Their eyes narrowed in melodramatic suspicion. I just smiled, shook my head, and asked: “Hey, do you know whether Vivian has plans for Saturday?”

I carefully clipped my nails, trimmed away dead cuticle, filed, and lotioned. The cold clammy feeling of a mask from some beauty company or other pervaded my face and I silently prayed to the fickle goddesses of beauty shop freebies that this thing was actually good for my complexion. A little later I painted my finger and toenails. And a little after that I went back and fixed all the mistakes I’d made the first time. I needed to look my best.

I listened to the sound of light rain and stared into the full-length mirror. This was the third outfit I had tried on and I still wasn’t completely happy with it. Traffic had been bad coming back from class, and the clock was ticking down. This wasn’t the time to be indecisive. But no matter how much I thought that I couldn’t help it. I wanted to wow her.

Look, what I’m saying is: I had a crush.

[Fiction] Trust/Fall 2.2

Chapter 2 continues!

If you missed the previous section, please click here!

What was wrong with me? I hugged a pillow tight to my chest and curled around it. The second week of classes started tomorrow. I needed my head in a good place. I needed sleep. But my head was bouncing up and down between happy memories of the time I’d spent with Vivian and freaking out at the sheer irresponsibility of it. Like, seriously: I had met this beautiful older woman at a kink club, gone home with her a couple hours after meeting her, let her hypnotize and fuck me, and spent the next day having waffles and hitting the mall with her roommate/adopted child. It didn’t feel real. It felt like I was luck not to have wound up raped or murdered.

What the hell had I been thinking? It wasn’t that it was bad, far from it. It was something I had fantasized about. But it was unplanned, unexpected, and clashed hard with my self-image. I curled up tighter and buried my face in the pillow, tears flowing. I had done something, I had enjoyed it. Why was I so worried about what it said about me? It had been such an amazing high to be so unrestrained, and now I was in for a long drop. And I felt like I knew what might be waiting for me at the bottom.

There have never been enough words to describe how bad I feel about being me. I am much better about it now than I was back then, and I still struggle. But my past self? Well, she was just fucked. Basically, the combination of never being okay in her body, plus the way she was socialized as a kid, plus the way her parents had treated her when she left (I still haven’t forgiven them, not completely), all added up to an emotional mess that made for one hell of a dark night of the soul. I can still remember what it was like to be stuck in that loop, rushing from one horrible topic to another, heaping on more internalized misogyny and abuse.

It went sort of like this:

I was a sexual freak. (I mean, true, I’m just proud of it now.)

Vivian was only playing with me. (Thanks Jacques. Thanks. I know you were trying to help, but seriously, fuck you.)

There was no way she could actually like me. (This one was harder to shake.)

There was no way anyone could like me. (What a melodrama queen.)

My body was disgusting, and no one could actually find me sexy. (Lies.)

I would never be the woman I wanted to be. (More lies.)

I was a sexual freak. (Second verse, same as the first.)

And then, something went blip.

I fumbled for my phone and wiped my face. It was Vivian.

“Hey, Zoe, just checking in. Sorry I had to rush out this morning. Thank you for this weekend. I’d like to see you again. Soon?”

I smiled and began to type.