The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tristan

I focused intensely on the soldering iron in my hand, making precise connections on the small circuit board. The smell of hot metal and flux filled my nostrils—a familiar, comforting scent that helped me concentrate. Portia stood behind me, her hands working gentle circles into my shoulders, easing tension I hadn’t realized was there. I usually felt very uneasy about being touched, but something about her made me feel so at ease.

“I’m genuinely impressed by your work, Tristan,” she said, her voice soft near my ear. “I’m impressed by how you taught yourself how to do this in a week. Though I keep wondering… Am I that impressed because you own me, or would I be that impressed anyway? It’s hard to tell.” Her fingers found a knot in my left shoulder and worked it methodically. “I’m feeling nervous about what we’re doing, but also pleased beyond words that I can be here for you, helping you solve this puzzle.”

I nodded slightly, acknowledging her words while keeping my eyes on the delicate connection I was making. I enjoyed the clarity of her communication. This had been refreshing. But for now, I was excited about solving this puzzle, this challenge that had consumed my thoughts for days.

“I’m scared,” she continued, her voice dropping lower. “Scared of who I’ll be once I’m not yours anymore. I feel like I’m in conflict, going against my programming but also doing exactly what I’m programmed to do by helping you. Does that make sense?”

I didn’t respond verbally, simply nodding, too focused on the final connections. Her massage felt wonderful, easing the tension in my neck and shoulders that had been building up over the last few days.

With a final touch of the soldering iron, I completed the circuit. “Done,” I said simply, setting down the tool and inspecting my work.

Portia leaned over my shoulder to look, her curls brushing against my cheek. Her expression was conflicted as she studied the small device, but then she turned me around in my chair, smiling as she gently held my face between her hands.

“Right now, I’m thinking about how unfair it would be if you never had me again,” she said, her fingers working at the buttons of her blouse, revealing smooth brown skin underneath. “But if that’s what’s going to happen, if this works, then I think you should enjoy me one more time before we give it a go.”

My breath caught as she slipped the blouse from her shoulders. The logical part of my brain noted the symmetry of her collarbones, the mathematical perfection of her curves, while another part, a part I’d only recently discovered, simply wanted to touch her.

“I want to feel you against me,” she said, guiding my hands to her waist. “I’m thinking about how your skin feels on mine, how your breathing changes when I touch you here. But more than that, I’m thinking about how good I can make you feel. How I’m a tool designed to pleasure you.” Her hand slid down my chest. “I’m remembering the first time, how nervous you were, and how much you’ve enjoyed me teaching you.”

She helped me out of my clothes with practiced efficiency, narrating each thought as it came to her. “I’m excited now, feeling you respond to me. I like knowing I can do this to you, make your heart race, make your pupils dilate.” She pressed her naked body against mine as we moved to the bed. “I’m thinking about how much you’ll miss this if it works, but also how reassuring it is that this is what you want.”

Her lips traced a path down my chest, her hands guiding mine to her breasts. “Touch me here,” she murmured. “I like the pressure of your fingers, the way your thumbs circle. I’m getting wet thinking about what comes next.”

I followed her instructions carefully, cataloging her responses, noting what made her breath catch or her back arch. This was data I was starting to understand, cause and effect, action and reaction.

“I want you inside me now,” she whispered, positioning herself above me. “I’m thinking about how perfectly we fit together, how your body responds to mine.” She sank down slowly, enveloping me in wet heat. “I’m memorizing this feeling, storing it away, hoping I’ll still cherish it, no matter what.”

She moved with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving mine. “I’m watching your face, seeing the pleasure build. I’m feeling you twitch inside me when I contract these muscles.” She demonstrated, making me gasp. “I’m balancing on the edge of my own pleasure, wanting to make this last.”

Her movements became more urgent, her narration more fragmented. “I’m close, thinking about how good you feel, wondering if this is our last time, loving how your hands feel on my hips—”

The sensations overwhelmed my ability to process them analytically. There was only Portia, her body moving against mine, her voice in my ear telling me exactly what she wanted, what she felt. When release came, it was more intense than I’d ever experienced, my body arching off the bed as pleasure short-circuited my thoughts.

Afterward, she lay beside me, her head on my chest, still narrating. “I’m feeling satisfied, a little sad, a little hopeful. I’m wondering what happens next. I’m glad we did this, whatever comes.”

I stroked her hair, finding comfort in its precise spiral pattern. “Thank you,” I said, the words inadequate but all I could manage.

She smiled up at me, understanding as always. “You’re welcome. Are you ready to try it now?”

I nodded, sitting back behind my laptop, staring at the lines of codes as I inspected them one last time. Something caught my attention.

“Anything wrong?” Portia asked.

I tilted my head. “Just a small mistake. Fixing it now. We’ll need to recompile everything, though.”

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice soft, almost relieved. “We’ve got all night.”