Author’s note: This little story, which ended up much longer than intended, is inspired by the attached image, of course. But it’s also informed by a scene I had the pleasure of playing out with a partner of mine. But it’s further informed by the wish-fulfillment of wondering what might have happened if that person and I had stayed together.
The consolation of being a writer is, when you fuck things up in real life—or, at least, when they don’t turn out the way you expected—you can always try to do better on the page.
“Is this… this what you wanted?”
He realized his mouth was hanging open. “I… oh, yes. God. Yes. You’re… so gorgeous.”
She blushed and tried to hide behind the tangles of her hair. She was glad to have the refuge of submission to retreat into, tipping her chin down to look at the floor.
“I’m glad my body pleases you, Master.”
Her words, the sound of her voice, the sight of her aroused him ’til he was almost panting. He was in complete control of her—his lover, his pet, his goddess—but he hadn’t banked on how hard it would be to control his own desire.
She wondered if he wanted her to slide her dress the rest of the way off. It wouldn’t be easy. It would be awkward, rolling onto her hip, then her butt, tugging the fabric over the heels; hardly the demure sexy plaything she wanted to be for him—but then she remembered to close her eyes, and focus on letting her mind drift back into the trance he’d placed her in…
Her lips turned in a dreamy smile. She didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to think. That was the gift he’d given her while she sat in the chair and let him hypnotize her; that was his present to celebrate two years together: she got to be her Master’s obedient slave.
He watched, rapt, as she sighed and her body melted more fluidly into the delicious pose that was at once so submissive yet teased and tormented his hindbrain with her curves. It took all his self-control to instruct his slave instead of simply stripping his too-tight trousers off and taking her right there on the floor like the brainless mammal part of him demanded to be.
This was his gift to her, though: that she could serve him. That her too-active, worry-prone mind could go on vacation for the evening, with the help of hypnosis, and she could be a beautiful, mindless wind-up doll carrying out his orders.
The fact that fantasy turned him on more than anything was icing on the cake, but was turning out to be troublesome: he owed her more than just his eager, thrusting member even though he knew he had only to demand she present any of her holes and she would willingly obey.
It wasn’t time for sexual abandon, not yet. He thought of something else he could have her do.
“Sweetie… you’re being such a good girl for me. For Master. An obedient slave for Master. Repeat that.”
Her eyes, heavy-lidded as she sank back into trance, stayed fixed on the floor.
“Yes Master,” she said. “I’m an obedient slave for Master. Obedient slave for Master. An obedient slave for Master. An obedient…”
He was squirming with the desire to touch himself. She was so incredibly sexy like this. Better-than-naked with the little shiny strip of fabric bunched around her thighs and the lace-up heels strapped to her feet. So sexy, displaying herself for him. She was all his. All his. His obedient slave… His obedient…
He realized he was just thinking the words she was saying and laughed at himself: which one of them was supposed to be hypnotized, exactly?
The warm throb of relaxation and pleasure built inside her as she repeated the mantra Master gave her. It felt more and more natural, and more and more sexy, to be locked in this submissive pose, her lips forming around the words, unable to move, unable to think, perfectly obedient, perfectly pleasing to the one who owned and controlled her. Her pussy was humming, and an idle thought drifted in and out of her hazy mind that if he didn’t fuck her or tell her to touch herself soon she was going to go crazy.
But she was only an obedient slave to Master’s will, and that thought both intensified the heat and took her away from herself, drifting deeper into a place where she was content to await his commands.
Time swirled by until she felt his fingers in her hair, stroking lovingly, and then getting a good handful near the roots so he could pull her head firmly back. Her eyes rolled back as the physical control layered on top of the bondage he’d placed in her mind, and when she felt the tip of his cock against her lips, the fact that she wanted so badly to engulf him with her mouth but couldn’t move an inch until he allowed it just felt incredible.
She was dripping now, and—as he started to fuck her mouth, praising what a good girl, a good slave she was—she drifted up, up, up out of her body, into a strange cloudy ethereal plane of utter pleasure.
“Baby?” He said, wiping a trace of drool from her lip, stroking her cheek. “Babydoll? Come back to me now, that’s right. Such a good girl. Come all the way back now.”
His cum was dripping into the valley between her breasts—she’d told him the idea of him cumming on her body turned her on—and he wanted to take her to bed. He stroked her hair, her face, bent down and kissed her adoringly as she climbed slowly out of trance, her tongue working in confused circles against his.
“How are you feeling?”
It took her a long time to answer. She was feeling a lot of things: the bliss of hypnosis, the throb of arousal that hadn’t abated, the stiffness in her back and the tingling in her legs and feet. She decided smiling and murmuring would adequately communicate that she was a very happy pet indeed.
He walked around her and rubbed her shoulders, making her groan, “Fuuuuck!”
“Feeling a little tight?”
“Ohhhh, Christ. I… Do you still want me on my knees? Cos I’m not sure I can get up anyway.”
They laughed, but then he made a concerned sound and got on one knee beside her.
“Poor thing. Your legs are probably asleep! Can you stand?”
Leaning heavily against him, she did. But her legs wobbled beneath her.
“If I could lose these shoes, I think maybe that would help.”
“Mmm. You look so good in them…” He snickered, and squeezed her. “But, of course, baby.” He knelt again and untied the heels, letting her lean on him as he helped her take them off—it was all she could do to lift her feet. When he stood again, she melted into his arms, hugging him tight.
“Can we just stand here for the rest of the night? I’m not sure I can walk.”
“I’ve decided to take you to bed and either ravish you or immediately fall asleep, not sure which.”
She giggled. “It’s up to you, Master. Your wish is my command. Can you… help me walk?”
“I’ll do you one better, since you’ve been such a good slave for me.” He ducked down and encircled her carefully in his arms. “Fireman carry!”
She flailed and smacked him ineffectually as she carried her to the bedroom. “You’re a caveman! A monster!”
“And yet,” he said, laying her carefully on the bed. He squeezed her breasts and then sat next to her to disrobe. “You’re my obedient slave. So what does that say about you?”
She muttered grumpily as she wriggled under the covers. He found her ass under the blankets and squeezed. “Hey!
“You’re a monster. But you’re mine. And I’m yours. So come over here, baby, and I’ll give you your anniversary present.”