Monday, October 26, 2015

Halloween Party (hypnoerotica)

Halloween in college was different, it turned out. No help from her parents, difficult to go anywhere but a thrift store, no money or desire to buy anything complicated.

Her best friend, Kelsey, was a sophomore, and had done the whole process before. Kelsey had introduced her to drinking, too... and fraternity parties, and weed... Kelsey knew her way around a lot of things and seemed to love sharing everything with her.

So it should not have been much of a surprise when she approached Miranda one night in her dorm.

"What are you gonna be for Halloween?"

"Oh, I dunno. Haven't gotten there yet. Do you already have plans?"

"Yeah, I wanted to hit up Jimmy and his friends. Also, he's making a booze run that night so we'll have our vodka." She winked, and Miranda gave a small smile. Miranda liked her quite a bit but the two were really opposites; Kelsey was fun and adventurous and energetic, and like a perfect cliche Miranda was boring and embarrassingly inexperienced. With a lot of things.

Not the least of which being Jimmy, but that's an entirely separate story.

The two of them worked surprisingly well together as friends, enjoying each other's company and banter. And Kelsey took pride in being a "mentor", as she liked to refer to it. Miranda usually preferred the term "bad influence".

Miranda was curious about Halloween; Kelsey clearly already had everything planned out.

"Well, what were you thinking of being?"

Kelsey giggled and looked at her without skipping a beat.


Something felt like it took the air right from her chest and held her by the pussy.

What the fucking... Nope, no time to even begin to analyze why that statement from her best friend -- a girl --

She swallowed everything.

"O-oh?" Her tongue felt thick.

Kelsey nodded and played with part of her hair.

"Yeah, like a Manchurian Candidate type thing! Easy costume, you know?"

Kelsey tried to steady her voice for a joke.

"So when you wake up, you'll try to kill someone?"

"No, silly! I'm a girl." As though that explained it.

Miranda shrugged at her. Kelsey gave that warm, oh-you're-so-cute-when-you're-clueless smile.

"Haven't you seen Mean Girls? Halloween is an excuse for girls to be sexy," she explained. Miranda was starting to feel dread and arousal in the pit of her stomach.

"Uh huh..."

"Well I was thinking," Kelsey said, "we could do a sort of joint costume? Where you had the trigger for me -- I've got this queen of diamonds card, like the movie -- and some time during the party you'd show it to me!"

Oh god.

"And when you're... triggered?"

Kelsey winked. "I want to keep that to be a surprise! But it'll totally be hot."

Miranda wanted to hide, or curl up, or beg to ask what it would be. She stayed silent and nodded and forced a smile.

Before she could even think.

"Alright, sure."

Kelsey beamed, so upbeat, and reached into her pocket to fish out... a playing card, extending her hand to give it to her.

Miranda took it with trembling fingers.

Queen of diamonds.

Kelsey was talking and she sounded so excited, but Miranda wasn't hearing her. When she left for the night after a few minutes, Miranda... Miranda *masturbated*.


How could she be doing this? How could she want this? This sick, hot little fantasy she barely even knew was there was something she began to obsess over.

The internet told her there were a lot of people who shared her desires. Stories, pictures, even audio files with the intent to... brainwash... unwitting listeners into... mindless drones...

Her brain stuttered over the thoughts. It took every ounce of willpower not to try them out. Miranda wanted to leave fantasy as fantasy.

And yet it felt impossible with the looming thought of Kelsey going wide-eyed and blank at the sight of that card in just a couple days...

But it wasn't real. This wasn't real. This was just a Halloween costume.

...of a girl, losing her will and self at the sight of a card...

...she didn't even know what Kelsey was going to *do* when she was triggered...

She fumbled with her belt and pushed her hand down her pants for the second time that day.


She swore off masturbating after the crippling guilt that came from that last orgasm. This was her *friend*, not some porn. It was ridiculous to think about her like this.

She didn't even know if it was wanting to see Kelsey like that, or if she was jealous that it was Kelsey instead of her.

Regardless... she shoved those thoughts down inside of her, and the tingle that went with them.

Kelsey was her best friend. They'd go to this stupid party, get drunk, get it over with, and everything would go back to normal.

As long as she didn't think about this anymore, in that way, she would be absolved.

The two had decided to grab a late dinner at the dining room, so Miranda grabbed her bag and headed to Kelsey's room.

The door, usually open, was shut.

"Kelsey? You there?"

No answer. Was she taking a nap or something? Jeez, Miranda had told her how over sleeping would ruin her for class the next day --

When she knocked, the door pushed open, not having been fully closed.

"Hey, Kels--"

She stopped short. Kelsey's computer screen, facing her, was taken up by a whirl of color, spinning ever inwards, and Kelsey... was staring at it, headphones over her ears, wordless, not even noticing her.

Her heart almost fucking stopped.

Miranda bolted. Shut the door behind her. Walked briskly back to her dorm room. Closed her own door.

*-- sitting staring blankly dripping at the spiral --*

Her pussy throbbed helplessly at the image burned into her brain.

*-- brainwashing herself --*

No. No, there was no way. No way this was real. This was absurd. She felt like she was going to be sick, she was so fucking turned on.

A knock at the door allowed her no time to process, again.

She considered not answering it, but she had already gotten up to open it.


Miranda almost moaned, or screamed.

Kelsey smiled triumphantly.

"Well, well, how the tables turn," she said, "usually you have to drag *me* out of bed!"

...She literally hadn't heard or seen her.

Miranda was dumbfounded. She didn't know if she was relieved, or terrified, or...

"I- I knocked but you didn't answer."

*because you were busy --*

Kelsey frowned, confused. "Well that's odd. I've been in all night. Oh well. Ready for dinner?"

Shaky, Miranda nodded, and tried to forget about the girl she saw in front of that computer screen.

The girl she had dinner with was the same old lively Kelsey, babbling on about her professors and homework and the party Miranda had missed last night.

She got back to her dorm.

The party was tomorrow.

Queen of diamonds sat innocently on her desk.

Miranda masturbated.


The next day was a shaky blur. She wondered if it was all some disturbing dream. But every memory was so vivid, each time she even approached them they consumed her with shame, fear, guilt, *craving*...

7 pm came. It was time to go.

Kelsey wasn't dressed in anything terribly revealing, just her usual party fare. A tight black tank, skin-hugging jeans, and heels. Miranda wore a nice sweater. She wondered suddenly if Kelsey was going to strip.

...In front of everyone, mindlessly revealing more and more skin, mouth hanging open as she --

*Please,* she begged her brain. *Please stop.*

"Ready to go?" Kelsey grinned wickedly at her.

She nodded.

This was it. They bundled up for the walk -- it was a chilly October -- and Miranda wanted desperately to forget to bring the playing card but ended up shoving it with clammy hands into her pocket.

They trekked across campus to Jimmy's dorm. Kelsey told him that most of Kappa whatever would be there too and that the party was definitely going to be lively.

When they arrived, the small room was packed and almost everyone was in costume. Some of the guys were dressed as members of the football team, others had animal head masks (an amusing, if odd fad on campus recently) and one was a toilet paper mummy, with material he had surely gotten from the dormitory bathroom.

Miranda watched her sidle up to Jimmy for a flirtatious hug. She smiled a little to herself. Kelsey never changed. Even brainwashed.


If she was drunk this might be easier, so the two of them hit the bottle of vodka until the room was spinning.

"You need to show me the card." Whispered in her ear. Setting her on fire.

"I'm scared," she confessed quietly, drunkenly.

Kelsey grinned. "Why? It'll be soooooo fun..."

Did she really not know? Or did she know and... no... There was cluelessness in her words... but such a drive behind them...

*You're going to go away,* she wanted to say.

*I'm scared that I want to see that,* she wanted to say.

*I'm scared that I want...*

But Kelsey was up to something else.

"Hey guys," she announced, slurring a bit. Miranda wanted to slap a hand over her mouth but sat frozen.

"Guys. Can you guess my costume?!"

The room focused on them. Blood thundered in Miranda's ears. She wasn't listening to the shouts and guesses. No one knew but them.

Kelsey gleefully told them all that they were wrong and kept looking sideways at her. Expectant.

"Here's a hint," the girl said, and stared at Miranda.

Fuck. Goddamn it... There was no time left... she was so drunk...

She pleaded with her eyes, but Kelsey only flicked her gaze to her pocket.

*It'll be over soon...*

She pulled out the card, trembling, and flashed it in front of Kelsey's face.

The smile fell. The girl's eyes glazed. Time slowed down. Miranda's cunt screamed. Her heart pounded.

Kelsey looked her squarely in the eye, but her gaze was focused *behind her*.

That look was so, so fucking hot.

"That's this slut's trigger," she murmured, toneless.

Miranda wanted to die. This wasn't happening. The room around them was hushed and tense. She tried to ignore them. God she was going to explode...

She rose almost mechanically and walked towards her. There was whooping and cheers in the room, a bunch of drunk frat boys wanting some lesbian action, and it looked like they were going to get it but god, they had no idea what was going on here, no clue why Kelsey was so fucking silent as she came in to touch -- her -- shoulder -- and -- lips --

Warm, feminine breath on her cheek, lips dragging towards her own, and Miranda was dead frozen too, terrified and turned on... Mourning the loss of her friend but so blazingly attracted to the automaton in her place... Wanting so desperately...

Her lips were so soft and so hot and she moaned and the room faded away even as the cheering reached a crescendo.

"K-Kelsey..." *You can stop this now, stop the act, PLEASE --*

"Kelsey is gone," the girl whispered, and kissed her again, and Miranda damn near came on the spot.

She had never wanted anything so badly in her life.

The moment seemed to last forever, and when Kelsey pulled away, she looked at Miranda with the most empty eyes, and *smiled*.

"I'll make you a drone too," she breathed.

Miranda choked, cheeks on fire, pussy throbbing.



*Because I...*

"Kiss me and let go of your will..."

Her eyes nearly rolled up, the room forgotten, the cheering unheard.

All that mattered were those lips and that brainless, blank girl that they were attached to...

Miranda leaned in...

...and gave in...

...and forgot.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Power (scene log feat. cckitten)

(This one... Is a true story. What did YOU do last night?)


Words have power. The simplest phrases can turn the tone of an experience in a moment.

As she is touching my breasts, caressing me as we lay in bed together, I find a very clear desire in my head, sharp and cutting through the late-night haze.

And in that moment, I am overcome with the sense of power to take what I want.

"I want you to be *obsessed* with my pleasure."

She is not expecting it; I feel her body twist and convulse against me and the thrill of it hummed in my belly like a drug. I can't stop. I don't want to. Ever.

"My pleasure is the single important thing to you right now. Giving me pleasure is so deeply ingrained as a part of you. Feeling my responses and reactions is what you were *made* for."

Her touch is becoming more and more desperate. I'm getting off on how much I can twist her will. So is she.

"Everything about this experience of giving me pleasure fulfills and satisfies the deepest parts of you. You were made to please me. You were always meant to please me."

She is shaking, a little. Her fingers are becoming more enthusiastic. She's struggling to keep it feeling good for me with so much intensity in her own mind. I know all of this without words.

"The best part is that this is a learning process, learning how to better bring me pleasure. A learning process with moments of extreme intensity, and moments of a more quiet, slow burn... That ebb and flow is just so perfect and embeds itself inside of you so you can better focus on pleasing me..."

This forces her to stay in the experience even when I stop talking to enjoy the pleasure she is bringing me.

...I am fucking close. I can't stop strings of words from coming out to bend her further.

But I know tonight I won't get there without her mouth.

I grab her head and shove her whole body down the bed and between my thighs. She is breathing heavy on my cunt, so excited.

Her tongue is so very sweet...

I'm going to cum from my favorite toy tonight

My favorite toy that wants nothing more than to give me pleasure

...That I will make to later BE NOTHING but giving me pleasure

"My orgasm is what you live for right now," I tell her, and that's it, she's slowing to my favorite tease with her tongue, "Because my orgasm is the most perfect way of giving me pleasure and that is the most important thing for you... And when it comes you will feel it in your whole being..."

I need to stop talking to cum... Starting to lose focus myself... Scratching her neck. Face. Head. Want to hurt her. Want to keep her as engaged as her brain can handle.

"You are keeping yourself in trance for me with your own tongue... Focusing on that rhythm... on the feeling that gives me... until you bring me to that point..."

So, so fucking good.

And eventually, she got her reward. The most important thing in her world for that moment.

My control, my pleasure, my training, my orgasm.


cc will have instructions to read this, and potentially other things I give her periodically to remind her of her place. She *will* be trained into my personal pleasure toy. And training never ends...

Monday, October 5, 2015

...In the Window (short erotica)

"Excuse me, how much for your mind?"

Caroline jumped. The question came from a woman behind her; tall and curvy, in a loose sweater and tight jeans. Not the usual attire for a kink club, but Caroline was a little grateful for that, because she wasn't yet used to being in a place with so many people in so many various states of undress.

She gave a nervous giggle. The woman was still waiting with a patient smile.

"I, er. Well, I'm not sure it's for sale. I have to admit though, I've never been approached with that line..." She trailed off, and thankfully the music in the club thumped over her words to cover her stutter.

*Nor by another woman,* she finished in her head.

The woman laughed.

"That is a shame. To both," she added, pointedly making eye contact.

Caroline had to look down from it for a moment. Thankfully, the woman extended her hand for her to shake.

"I'm Hannah," she said. "Haven't seen you around here before."

Caroline shook it: it was a soft grip but she was surprised that there were calluses on her hand.

"It's my first time at... a place like... here." She was tripping all over herself like she was a teenager again. This was awful. She shouldn't have gotten dressed up in those garters she found in a novelty store last week... The revealing clothing was not helping her confidence.

Hannah never stopped smiling.

"Enjoying yourself?"

She tried to smile back.

"I think so. It's all a bit..."


Caroline finally made eye contact. The woman's face was difficult to read.


The expression turned warm again.

"I hope not too much. You'll get used to it, but you should enjoy it while it's still nerve-wracking. You'll miss that feeling someday."

"Oh, maybe." Caroline thought on that for a moment. It did make quite a bit of sense. "Thank you."

The woman *winked*, and Caroline blushed, like it was a scripted scene from a movie. "Anytime."

*Didn't you want to ask...*

"Oh!" It jumped to her head -- the curious pick-up line. "Why did you ask if, um..."

"It's how I flirt," beamed Hannah, proudly. "Besides, you looked like you wanted someone to take it off your hands for a little while. Over thinking isn't great for nerves, you know."

"I- hah, well, maybe."

"Was I wrong?"

Caroline pondered. "How would I know?"

Hannah fixed her with a stare. "Good question."

This was getting a little too intense. There was heat in her cheeks. And between her legs. This was becoming very confusing, very quickly.

She cleared her throat and tried to lighten the mood.

"Besides, I think if I sold my mind to you, the payment would become moot if I was just..."

She flushed further with what was about to come out of her mouth.

Hannah prompted, emphasizing the word: "*Brainless?*"

Caroline moaned softly; she didn't mean to, but this woman's voice had just suddenly stroked her cunt so perfectly...

She was still staring. She looked *predatory*. Caroline wanted to moan at that too. She couldn't look away. She wanted to apologize, and excuse herself (*to fucking rub herself off at home for a week*) but she couldn't make her voice say it.

Silence. Her throat was dry. Finally...


Hannah was quick.

"Because I intrigue you. Because when you think of me, you *wonder*. Because your pussy is starting to think for you."

*What did I do...*

"But..." The woman's expression softened, "if it's not for sale, then I suppose it's not something you have to worry about."

Caroline felt like she was standing in a daze. Her cunt was throbbing. Head was reeling. Did she miss her chance?


Hannah checked her watch and cut her off.

"It is a shame, Caroline. And I hate to cut our chat short, as I have enjoyed it *very* much..." -- Caroline swallowed hard at that -- "But I must attend to a previous purchase of mine -- oh, here it is."

A girl, fully nude, was crawling towards her on hands and knees, and wrapped herself around Hannah's legs. Hannah ran fingers through the girl's hair, and tilted her chin up to look at her: Caroline saw utter bliss in those eyes, purest happiness and pleasure, with wet lines from her mouth -- ...drool...

"It was really nice to meet you, Caroline. If you change your mind..." Hannah grinned wickedly, and untangled herself from the girl to walk off. "You know where to find me."

Caroline knew.

A Watched Pot (short erotica)

Drooling mess of a body, throbbing pussy, muscles in her ass trying desperately to hump her against something. But there was only the hard chair under her, and while it created a deliciously wanton and self-degrading image, her pussy found no relief as it tried to seemingly seek the screen in front of her.

Not that it appeared to matter to the girl; muscles tensing and body churning without end.

He was fucking hard up watching her. His balls tingled at the thought of finally ripping those clothes off of her, satisfying his dick in that burning cunt, but she wasn't done yet.

No use in ruining the whole meal when there's only ten minutes left on the oven.

This was his favorite part. He loved the thrill of the chase; which pick-up line to use, which bar to hit, where to park the van and equipment. He loved knowing that some of the girls he took would sleep with him willingly, and yet he still broke them before he used them. He loved the ones that struggled, too; overpowering a creature weaker than him, because in the end, he was a catch and release kind of guy, and after they were free, his girls had the memory span to match the metaphor.

But this... He gave his cock a few hard tugs to ease off the ache. Oh, this was his favorite. Alone with his thoughts while he watched another dumb bitch be stripped to the essence of the animal that she truly was. Anticipating the end of the stimulating brainwave pulses and tape on the screen, where she would be so weak and stupid that all she can do will be to crawl to him, leaking fluids all over the floor, not even smart enough to speak anymore, just offering her holes.

Shamelessly. Unaware of her own humiliation. As any dumb animal is. As they all were before and all will be after.

His dick throbbed, seeking gratification, and he played with the head, lost in the paradise of his own thoughts. Eyes half lidded, watching the girl before him, who was becoming less and less of a girl by the second, and more and more of a masturbatory aid. Visual and auditory porn now, fleshlight soon...

The last thirty seconds on the tape was always the longest for him, and he knew that if she was even remotely aware of what was to come, it would be for her, too.

Jealousy Essay (4/15)

I am not poly.

This may seem odd, since I am in a relationship with two people, but I firmly believe it is true.

I am monogamous, I just happen to be in a triad.

It is a closed triad, which helps. I certainly couldn't handle an open relationship. I even have struggles dealing with play outside of my relationship, including feeling guilty when I play with others.

I am very prone to jealousy.

This is hard to admit and harder to deal with. I love both of my partners dearly. I want them to be happy. Logically, I want them to be happy with each other, because wouldn't that make them the most happy?

Emotionally, it is a different story.

I have "jealousy moments" everywhere. If they don't exist, I conveniently make them up. Oh, is that rope out of place? Did I wake up and hear them having sex? Please don't let me walk in on them as I get home from work...

Why should I react negatively to something that makes the people I care about happy?

Almost everywhere I look, people say that jealousy stems from insecurity. Personally I do not understand that or identify with it. I feel incredibly secure. I am not going anywhere. They are never going to get tired of me. They love me very very much. These are firm beliefs I hold true. I am lucky, because these "securities" do not waver or falter, ever.

So what is the fear? I will admit that I have a "thing" with feeling special, unique, and important. Is the fear about losing that? Maybe. A lot of jealousy moments have stemmed from that thought process. "But I thought xyz was unique to our relationship." "We just went to Friendly's, why did you go on your date there?" "But you and I *just* did a rope scene..."

The funny thing is that it is both a blessing and a curse to love a couple. On the one hand, they are both there for you if you need support. On the other, jealousy is almost always hitting from both directions.

They did needles = "why did he want to put needles in her instead of me?" and "why did she want his needles instead of mine?"

These are not thought processes I am proud of. They are also not logical. But they do hurt, even as I work through them and process them every single time.

Most embarrassingly, and this is a big one that may explain a few things: I stopped writing a lot because I wanted to keep my fantasies, stories, and experiences all to myself. In my head, if cc read my stories, she would either be jealous herself, or worse, she would find it hot and then she and DaSade would go off and play based on my fantasies.

Isn't that kind of horrible?

I don't know the purpose of this writing. Maybe admitting and putting it on paper will help in some way. Maybe I see this as confessional. The public exposure can allow me to atone.

Mostly I think the world should know that yes, we have an amazing, beautiful, healthy, and communicative relationship... but we have our problems. We do not belong on a pedestal. It terrifies me to think people might see us like that.

We are very happy. We are always growing. But we are not perfect.

(I would love to hear from other mono- or -ish people in nonmono relationships, or even how others deal with jealousy in any sense of the concept.)

Seeking (short erotica) (4/15)

(Woke up, needed to write this.)


**'Seeking: girl who wants to be controlled from the inside out. M4F'**

Hello. I will keep this short. You've read the title already. We both know why you are here.

We want the same thing for different reasons. You want someone to fuck the brains out of your pretty little girly head. I want someone I can use with the intelligence of a sex doll.

I want a girl who is smart enough to know that this is a bad idea but dumb enough to show up anyways.

Let's talk.


Michelle trembled and let her palm sweat on the mouse for a few moments longer before she closed the tab and took some very deep breaths. Her stomach turned with how she needed that. Her brain played over and over in flashes of moments of meeting this man, how that would go...

She sits down, he pulls out a pocketwatch...

He brings her a cup of coffee with that smile of a predator, that smile that says she should have gotten her own cup...

Her head lolls in the passenger seat of his car as her cheek rolls into a puddle of her own drool...

His cock is out

She can barely keep her eyes open but she needs to

Back at his apartment

Ragdoll thrown on the bed

Legs strewn apart

What good is being a girl if a man with a big strong cock can't use her

Too dumb to say no

Too dumb to say yes

Smile plastered on her face as he gets what he wants

Cumming cumming cumming cumming.......


Michelle opened her eyes. Her fingers were soaked and there was a wet spot on the chair. She suppressed the wave of shame and finally shut down her computer for the night.

Maybe tomorrow, she would contact him.

The Naming (10/14)

*The origin of [this][]. Paraphrased through the filter of my memories, but this is the story of how I was named.*


I was told from the start -- middle -- *somewhere* in all of this that at some point he would find a name for me. We had many conversations over the last year or two; some brief and in passing, some querying.

*I do not want one,* I told him the first time, *because that is very long-term and scary.*

He told me that he understood, and that he would wait for if and when the right time came.

*I do not want a slave name,* I told him later, *because I am not a slave.*

He told me that he understood, and that it would not be a name for his slave, because that is not what I am.

*I do not want a name,* I told him finally, *because there is nothing that will fit me properly and permanently, ever.*

He told me that he understood, but at some point he would find one within my true nature.

“Understood, sir,” I said, but I did not believe him.


“I have looked inside you,” he said to me one day, “and it turns out that you were right.”

I did not understand.

“You do not have a name inside you.”

I blinked, and waited.

“I have looked for a long time, waiting for it to make itself clear to me. I have found that none of the names I have called you are your true name. ‘Little girl’, ‘pet’, ‘whore’, ‘sleepingirl’, ‘it’, ‘Clay’...”

A small smile started in my belly and rose to my lips.

“or ‘Angela’...”

As he spoke it, it rang true.

“You do not have a name because you were nothing until I created you. Everything I call you is both relevant and irrelevant. So I am stripping them all away. There is a hole inside of you where your name should be, and I intend to fill it with whatever I see fit.”

I kissed his beard and chest madly, grateful that he had seen right through me enough to find my identity, or lack thereof.

“You were right; no name is permanent enough for your nature because of how you fluctuate. So you will have none; *that* is your true nature.”

“*Yes*, sir.”

...Free at last.


I am nothing; I have no name. Some are used for ease of identification in public, but they mean nothing. When I hear them spoken, I hear how empty they are; meaningless without his intent behind them.

I was taken and given a mantra to remind me of this. I was recognized for what I am. I was unnamed.