dom-plays-with-dolls: dom-plays-with-dolls:This had always been her dream: living with a charming,
dom-plays-with-dolls: dom-plays-with-dolls: This had always been her dream: living with a charming, lovely, powerful man in an extravagant Bavarian castle. And it only came at such a small cost. “Within these walls, you are mine,” he had explained, piercing her naive and awestruck eyes with his own. “There is nothing I will command that you will defy, nothing I will want that you will not satisfy, nothing I will order that you will disobey.” The slightest breeze from an open window rushed against her exposed nipples, causing goose bumps to trickle from her breasts all across her body. They were sore; hickeys, cum, clamp marks, dried wax, and the remains of dripped lipstick coated them like badges of honor. “I will have access to your body whenever I choose,” he had continued. “At the snap of a finger, you should be ready to drop them all at your heels. What you wear underneath these exquisite dresses will be up to me, not you.” She felt saliva build up around her lips, red and pouty and swollen from biting them in aroused anticipation. She tried to bite down on the ball gag in frustrated excitement, but he had since replaced her old plastic one - littered with teeth marks - with a solid metal one. If she needed to teethe in eagerness, she had an assortment of pacifiers all lined up in his room. All she had to do was ask for one, but she knew what such a question would lead to: humiliation play, obedience training, gagging on his cock until her eyes watered. Normally, she reveled in such activities. Not today. Today, all she wanted was to be tranced. Deep. “That being said, I don’t want you to worry about constantly being fucked.” He had been circling her, inspecting his wardrobe choices, her new ball gag in one hand. He stopped in front of her and cupped her tingly, cool breast in his free hand. “No, I’ll let you live your life,” he cooed. “I want that for you. Go outside, explore the city, travel with me, meet friends, have lunches with them. Or stay inside, read books, paint, sleep, do whatever you choose to do. Physically, I want to at least give you the idea of being free.” He walked behind her and placed the ball gag at her lips. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, and the cold ball slid in between her hungry lips. He brushed a few strands of dark hair behind her ear before whispering, “But your mind? That’s always mine.” He nibbled on her ear and felt her entire body spasm in delight. One of his hands reached around and cupped her breast again; he felt it warm up as his thumb massaged the very tip of her erect nipple. “Every word I say is the most important word you’ve ever heard,” he whispered, feeling her shift her weight from one foot to the other as a muffled moan escaped from her throat. “Every thought in your head is mine to shape and control.” As if he had turned off a light switch, her mind immediately stopped creating new thoughts. She watched them all vanish like mist in her head, replaced by nothing but the deep, echoing words of her Master. “Each and every trigger comes front and center when I speak.” As he spoke these words, she saw the memories of all of his most perverted and powerful triggers front and center in her otherwise-blank mind. She saw herself on all fours, drinking from a doggy dish with a collar and leash around her neck; she saw herself chained at the ankles, tip-toeing naked around the castle for his own enjoyment; she saw herself wearing a ridiculous pink dress, frills and bows covering every inch of the silly thing, her hair done up in messy pigtails and far too much make-up on her face, sitting lifelessly on the bed like a ragdoll, cum dribbling out of her mouth and onto her already-messy tits. Most importantly, as she thought back to these triggers, she felt her pussy grown warm, and the smallest trickle of something wet slide down her smooth leg. “My good little hypno-slave…” he cooed. “I am…your…hypno-slave…” she mustered back slowly, sleepily, blissfully blank. “I need to go,” he said to her. Deep in the dark, chained recesses of her conscious mind, she felt her heart ache. “But you will stay here, just like this for me, until I get back. When I do…” He pressed his hand against the thick fabric of her dress; even through all of her expensive layers, he could feel how wet she was growing. “…I’ll make you all mine again.” That was two hours ago. Her feet had grown sore, and she desperately wanted to sit down. Or at least find something to stimulate her mind. TV, a book, the back of a cereal box, anything other than staring out the same dark window. But whenever such thoughts popped into her head, she heard is soothing, dark voice ring gently in her head, silencing all other petty little thoughts: “You will stay here, just like this for me, until I get back. When I do, I’ll make you all mine again.” A fifth trickle of wetness slid down her thigh now. She would wait for him. @hypnosis-slave and I celebrate our anniversary today. This is one of the first stories I wrote for her. I spent so much time on it, longer than it probably seems reading it. I wanted to capture her hypnotic fantasies while simultaneously making it every bit as romantic as it was sexy. Here’s to many more, my doll. -- source link