I am serializing my current novel, Discipline and Reward, one chapter per week on the Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive. There are currently 10 chapters posted.
Check it out!
Chapter 1 Excerpt:
I saw the pain on Eevan’s face as he began. “Jovan,” he said, so serious, and stopped as if searching for words. And then...I knew.I knew Navya loved him. I knew he loved Navya. I knew they were going to share a home and a life and children, and that this is what he had come here to tell me. In that moment I hated my brother. It was the boulder, not him, that had taken my life from me, but he had been more than happy to step into my place. I wanted to kill him. No, I wanted to be him. A stabbing pain blossomed behind my eyes, and I passed out.When I awoke, I sat up, but something was different. I looked down at my two perfect feet, attached to a larger and more muscular body than the one I knew. I felt the full beard on my previously boyish face. And then I saw...me.The other me had also fallen unconscious, but was wakening. My other self looked up at me, clearly confused. “Jovan?” he asked. It was the last thing my brother had said to me before we blacked out. And even in that higher, reedier voice, my voice, I knew it was my brother, speaking to me with my lips, looking at me with my eyes. And I was looking right back at him, with his eyes. I was still confused but I remembered my pain, my anger. Eevan had the life that I wanted. Eevan had the life that I deserved. But now...now I was Eevan. Grabbing my frail and crippled former body, I looked my older brother in the eye and threw him off of that cliff.
Chapter 2 Excerpt:
Briefly she considers making a break for it, running for the front door, or even to the balcony door to leap to her death. But I plant the next seed, the first one that is fully-formed sense memory. In her head she hears me whisper, «“Discipline”»She begins to shudder uncontrollably, but at last gets a grip and murmurs, “How may I serve yo—”“What? I can’t hear you.”Angrily, her head comes up to look me in the eye. “How may I serve you, My Lord?““Such attitude. Do you need more discipline?”“NOOO! No, My Lord.” Shaking again, she takes longer to tamp down her terror, but she does. Forehead to floor again, she says, clearly, evenly, meekly, “How may I serve you, My Lord?”“Get me a beer, bitch.”Frozen, for a second, she had thought she might get...a reward. «Cynthia! Pull yourself together. It’s just a dream. You don’t really belong to this anim- “Discipline”»With an audible squeak she rises to her feet and runs for the kitchen. The bottles are right on the top shelf of the refrigerator. She hurries back out to the couch and holds the beer out for me to take.I look up at her. “Is that anyway for a servant to present something to her Lord?” Inside her head: «“Discipline”». She did it herself that time. I smother a smile.Falling to her suddenly weak knees, she catches herself with her free hand and rights herself. One hand holding the bottle, one hand under it, she stutters, “Y-your beer, My Lord.”
Chapter 3 Excerpt:
After the meeting, the Wraith asks her to stay behind in the war room and help with some strategic planning. Such a request is not unusual; her long centuries of military experience among the Amazons have made her quite the expert at strategy and tactics of both defensive preparedness and organized combat.However, as the last of the other heroes teleports back to Earth, the Wraith approaches her with an attitude that has much more in common with multi-billionaire captain of industry, Blake Warren, than with the terror of the Carthage City underworld. “Cynthia, what’s wrong? You’re a key leader in this team, and today you weren’t really here.““It’s nothing really, Blake...Don’t worry about it. You’re right. I’ve got a lot on my mind, but I’ll deal with it.”“You’re sure...”“Positive...Look, you said you wanted to talk strategy, and I do have some strategy ideas. About the Betelgeusean threat. Let me look at Power Man’s reconnaissance report, and I’ll try to have something back to you tomorrow.”“Well...alright then,” he says. A brief flurry of tapping on his wristpad and then, “It’s in your mailbox now, Cynthia. Thank you.”Soon she feels the full-body tingle of the alien teleporter technology sending her back home, and she catches one last glimpse of Blake Warren, with a look of concern on his face. He wants to comfort her, shelter her, ease her troubles. «Uuugh. MEN!» She is more than a match for the Wraith, physically and mentally. And they BOTH know it. «But he’s trying to do the stupid “male protector” thing just the same.» She is no longer insulted by such treatment as she often was when she first left the Queendom. «It’s not his fault. He’s just a man. He was raised in Man’s World. He can’t help trying to be—what’s the word?—“chivalrous”.» She sighs. «But it’s still annoying.»
Chapter 4 Excerpt:
I can hardly wait for Cynthia to fall asleep. Shortly after midnight, more than an hour after lying down naked on her bedroom floor, she finally does. Her dreams are the usual miasma, and I am still waiting for my moment. In one odd scene, I am naked and prostrate before her, but I beg to serve her in her voice, and she commands me to fuck her in my voice. I almost take that one, but decide to let it slide. Wrong image. Scene after scene slides by. Betegeusean triumvirate as the Three Stooges. Power Man and Greased Lighting in flagrante delicto (Power Man, oddly, on the receiving end). Yadda, yadda, yadda. Soon a historical scene, a story from her mother’s knee about how Heracles had conquered and enslaved the Amazons. She sees her mother, Queen Hyppolyta of the Amazons, naked and prostrate before Heracles, head down, ass up, arms outstretched, begging in Cynthia’s voice, “How may I serve you, My Lord?". Now it’s time.In the penthouse, Cynthia lies before me. As she awakens, she begins to leave her pose, but then she freezes as my musk permeates her rousing mind. She hesitates and then decides. Resuming the pose of perfect submission, she humbly entreats me, “How may I serve you, my Lord?” Good. Very good. Let the games begin.“Not now, baby bitch, I’m busy,” I murmur, not unkindly.She is doesn’t know what to do! «He’s busy? Too busy to be fucking slaved over? “Discipline”» She visibly flinches as I drop the seed, but then calms herself, «No. No. Wrong attitude.»
Chapter 5 Excerpt:
Her fight for her own freedom ultimately ends with a whimper, and she puts it from her thoughts. Now she has the rest of her day before her. She is feeling refreshed, alert, alive. «Ready to kick some supervillain ass!»Time to plant a seed. «“Think of it as homework for next time.“» Now let’s see what sort of internal debate this kicks off.
- Point: «He said I had an “incompetent mouth”! If I don’t-»
- Counterpoint: «Oh Zeus’s Lightning, Cynthia. IT’S JUST A DREAM!»
- Point: «But it’s a dream with “DISCIPLINE”. He said, “Only bad slaves make excuses.” I can’t ignore this. He’ll PUNISH me!»
- Counterpoint: «Um. Okay, look, can we at least “time box” this...fellatio research? I’m still a superheroine; I need to spend SOME time on some superheroics.»
- Point: «Two hours, MAX!»
And thus Majestic Woman’s laptop is introduced to internet porn. I’m very helpful with my seed thoughts for googling. Three hours later, she feels as if she has barely scratched the surface of the complicated subject of cocksucking. She has taken down some notes that seem to cover the basics:
- work up some spit. saliva = lubrication
- lips over teeth. teeth on penis -> BAD
- tongue action -> stimulate glans (head), work underside, lick balls (before? during?)
- suction: seal lips (conflict w/ tongue action? alternate?)
- deep throat=all the way in! HE’S TOO BIG!!! “suppress gag reflex” WTF?! It bends UP, not down! more flexible than it looks??
- eye contact
- more from D/s “subbie” blogger on “face-fucking”: “If he grabs your head and starts thrusting, DON’T FREAK OUT! It DOESN’T necessarily mean that you screwed up or that he’s punishing you. It probably just means that he’s asserting his dominance, taking control. That’s what we want, right, ladies? OTOH, he might be punishing you. Have you been a naughty girl? Communication is important.”
- NEED TO PRACTICE!! with a dildo? with a MAN!? :—P
- big rubber monster
This last note, I must add, was in reference to a short video she saw online. It starts with a woman holding something jammed down her throat. Slowly she draws it out until you can see that the object is a two foot long translucent pink rubber dildo. As she wrote the note, mentally christening it with the acronym “BRM”, she thought to herself, «If I could deep throat THAT, I could take anything My Lord can throw at me.»Looking at her notes she starts to get nervous. This is beginning to snowball. She is already an hour outside of her time box, and she is nowhere near ready to “turn in her homework” to her Dream Lord. «“Only bad slaves make excuses”...“Discipline”» No, those are not seeds from me. She did that all by herself.«That’s it then. The whole day is shot. I’ve got to be ready to face Him.» She needs to come up with a plan and execute it, right now! She seizes upon the goal of swallowing the BRM. I’m impressed; she has barely even touched man meat to her lips before and she already wants to try out for the Cocksucking Olympic Team!
Chapter 6 Excerpt:
She turns her attention back to the dough, kneading it somehow more coquettishly. Standing behind her, I reach up under her apron and cup her breasts. I begin squeezing them in time with her own squeezes on the bread dough. She moans and leans back into me. I bend down and begin nibbling her neck. She moans again, louder and begins to lose her rhythm.“Something smells amazing in here,” I whisper in her ear.“I NNNNNGGGHH I love to cook...My Lord!““Yeah,” I breathe, “I guess the food smells okay too. Bend over.”She has just enough presence of mind to sweep the dough out of the way, but there’s nothing she can do about the thick coating of flour all over the counter in front of her. Arms, hair, apron, and side of face all are painted with fine white powder as I slide into her warm wet pussy.Slowly, gently, I push my cock all the way to the base and say “cum”. She does, loudly and vigorously. Slowly I withdraw until only the tip is still inside. Her moan causes a small cloud of flour to swirl atop the counter.Slowly back in until scrotum meets pelvic bone. “Cum.” New orgasm washes over still-twitching old.Slowly out. Slowly in. “Cum.”And so on and so on. For next 12 minutes and 43 seconds, Cynthia’s universe explodes over and over and over again, until finally I grunt “Cum” for the last time and add my explosion to her own.“Well, I guess you better get back to work.”Through loud ragged breaths and a long groan she finally gets out a coherent “Yes, My Lord.”“I hope I didn’t ruin the bread.”“No, ha, WHEEZ, hah My Lord. It nnnnnnneeded to sit hah and rise for hah a while anyway.““Okay.” And I’m gone. Back to the game. I’ve knocked her world off its axis, but clearly to me it was just a pleasant distraction.
Chapter 7 Excerpt:
She hears the key in the door and bends over, head to floor, ass to sky, arms to me. “Welcome home, My Lord. How may I serve you?”I drop my gym bag on the floor and say, “Clean my shoes, bitch.”“Yes, My Lord.” Inside her head, for the first time in her two and a half millennia, she echoes the disappointment of women throughout the ages, «He didn’t even notice!» But it is fleeting. She shakes it off.“Less talk, more action.”She clearly understands by now that she should interpret most commands from me in the most humiliating way possible. So she rejects her own disappointment and crawls to me and my muddy shoes.But before she starts, she’s determined to surprise me. She knows she has to lick my shoes clean, but first she kisses them, repeatedly, lovingly, soft little kisses interspersed with sultry affirmations: “I missed you”, “I was so lost without you”, “I felt so alone”, “I need you so much”. This gradually gives way to moaning, caressing licks. She is romancing my shoes as she eats their filth. She has not only swallowed her pride, she’s digested and eliminated it. Without pride there is no humiliation, only humility. She has turned an mortifying symbol of slavery into an incredible turn-on; we both feel it. I want to pick her up and ravish her where she stands...but not yet.
Chapter 8 Excerpt:
“So, ah, Cynthia, why do you want to take my class. ”“My, um, boyfriend would like me to learn how to dance. Erotically.”A pained look crosses Yasmin’s face. Suddenly she seems to find new significance in the steel collar locked around Cindi’s throat. “Cynthia, when any...conscientious...person teaches ‘sexy’ classes for women, they look for certain...signs. You just threw up the reddest of the red flags I look for. I won’t tell you how to live your life, but I think you need a better boyfriend, not a dance class.”As Yasmin rises sinuously from her seat, Cindi grabs her arm, “Wait, Yasmin, it’s not like that!” «Yes, it is! But...» “He just asked me if I could dance. He didn’t, like, force anything on me. I had to tell him ‘no’; I’ve always been more athletic than artistic. But the thought of dancing for him made me feel so...hot!“Taking her seat again, Yasmin replies, “Well, then. Let’s try this one more time. Cynthia, why do you want to take my class?“Falling all over herself to answer, she blurts, “The first time I dance for him I want to make him cream his shorts!”Yasmin smiles. “Welcome to the class, Cynthia. Please be on time. For the first class any comfortable workout clothes will do, but most students favor yoga pants and tank tops. DON’T wear a sports bra, athletic girl. You’re gonna want things to, uh, move. And we’ll be taking measurements that first class. We want to get them right.” she said, looking unabashedly at Cindi’s chest. “Don’t forget to pay the costume fee, or I swear I’ll make you dance naked.” With a grin the dancing woman departs, back to her day job.
Chapter 9 Excerpt:
“I’m on love, Mamá.”“OH, GODS! NOT ANOTHER MAN LIKE THAT...THAT...” She begins waving her arm dismissively, “SIDNEY!“Now Cindi goes off track. “His name was SIMON, Mother, SIMON TREMAINE. And he was a hero. A brave ‘MAN’.”“He didn’t seem so brave when he knocked down half of Themiscyra.”“His plane crashed into ONE EMPTY BUILDING, not half of town, and the only reason it did that was because the glamour made it look like he was coming down into an open field. WE killed his whole crew; he did nothing to hurt US.”“Even so, you should have left him to his fate. HE WAS A MAN.”“He was a warrior and a hero on the side of the ANGELS, Mother.”“Angels? Are you a Christian now?”“It’s just a metaphor, Mother, and you damn well know it.”“Watch your tone with me, ‘Chosen One’.”“AAARRRRRGH. WHY DO WE DO THIS? EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I don’t want to fight with you, Mamá!““Then don’t tell me you’re in love with a mortal. Show me that you have some brains, Kynthia.”“I’m NOT in love with a mortal.““But you said—”“I’m in love with a GOD.”That stops Hippolyta cold. This is serious business. These people are personally acquainted with Gods. They don’t bandy the term around lightly. Hippolyta pauses and considers her next words...carefully, “Not one of our Gods, I take it?““No, Mother. Not one of ours.”
Chapter 10 Excerpt:
«AHA! This must be the famous “morning wood” I’ve heard so much about!»Slowly she crawls up onto the bed and takes Greg’s member into her mouth.The male echo of Julia’s Aussie accent rises from the other end of the bed, ”OOOOOONNNNNNNNNGGGGGGHHH Annie, we don’t have toime. Master’s gonna swap me out any min—“Cindi, pulls off and looks up suddenly, the nametag on her collar lightly jingling. “Mr. Wolfe, I presume?”Greg is in shock, but manages to return volley, “Ah, Ms. Royal. Pleazhah t’ make your acquaintance. Um, lit’rally.”She grins and goes back to work.Muttering under his breath, he says, “Well, at least bring your wiggly arse over here so OI can NNNNNGGG return the fayvah.“POP “Yes, sir, Mr. Wolfe. Right away!“After she repositions herself they resume again, pleasuring each other. After a few minutes he gives her a sharp slap on the ass. Then, after a moment, he disengages.“Sorry, luv. You don’t know the code, do you.”She grips him at the base and takes her time sliding off. “Code, Mr. Wolfe?”All this “Mr. Wolfe” stuff from one of the mightiest superheroines in the world is making him even stiffer.“Ah, okay then. Shahp smack on the roight cheek is our code for ’cum’.”“Our?”“Annette’s and moine. When moy mouth is, um, otherwoise occupoied.”“Oh, sorry. Won’t miss it again!”“No, you won’t,” he says with a smile giving her another identical whack.Cindi falls off her own elbows as the orgasm hits her, but then goes straight back to work on his woodie.
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