The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A most unusual day

I pulled up to the expansive home of an ex girlfriend while on an out of town business trip, purely out of curiosity since she’d vanished from facebook some time ago, and from my life long before that.

She was a tall buxom gal with rather large breasts, pale skin and short chestnut hair. She had a lot of baggage and it was that baggage that created the circumstances that ended our relationship years ago. Aside from her appearing in the occasional erotic dream I had no contact with her since at least the middle of the 2010’s.

Pure male curiosity had me stop by un-announced to see if she even lived in the neighborhood, or if she had decided to get married and moved away, as she often discussed. She was incessant in her longing for a child, and to continue her career as an interior designer once she found a guy willing to go with that plan. She had a great sense of dignified style, and was particular about her appearance and quite skilled with design software, so I assumed she’d made those dreams come true. I never expected what happened when I knocked on the door.

The once well manicured lawn looked neglected, and the porch had several old faded design magazines fading from the sun. The door opened slowly and I saw her, with a feather duster in one hand, wearing crude stripes of blush on her cheeks, and garish blue eye shadow. That wasn’t the half of it, those long lovely legs of hers were well displayed in a tiny bikini bottom, and her top was simply a t-shirt crudely cut with scissors, exposing the bottom third of her ample breasts, free of support by a bra. Her hair was dyed a red not found in nature, and I I couldn’t help but notice the gaudy pink lip-gloss and the strong strawberry scent even from the door way.

N, N, Nick? She said with some hesitation. She opened the door and let me in, almost as a reflex, rather than intent. She stood passively and rather vacantly, as I looked her over. How she was able to maneuver in sparkly hi heeled pumps and the rest of that get up was a question.

A question answered in a moment by a voice from the other room, bellowing loudly: “Be-atch, who at the fucken door?” A voice uttered. My ex turned quickly and took little steps, clicking those ridiculous hi heels as she answered: “It’s someone I know ma’am, I think.” She had zero confidence in her answer and sounded unsure of herself.

We entered the room where the voice emanated from and what once was well appointed with furniture and art works and ads promoting her business merely held a large leather chair and ottoman, with a large fake sheepskin fleece dog bed, large enough for perhaps a German Shepard. Not a single ad for the design business remained, and all the artwork there previously was gone.

Seated in the leather chair was a rather stunning looking young black woman, with a face like a model, her hair straightened and pulled back, carefully applied make up that looked rather natural, wearing expensive designer jeans and a brand name top. Her arms were trim and fit, with a light coat of sesame oil, and she had a tasteful manicure. Her matching pedicure was noticeable because her well worn but expensive leather sandals with glittering gold straps drew your eyes to them. She had a mimosa in one hand and what appeared to be a small aluminum flashlight in the other. Curious I thought to myself.

My ex walked over to her, still holding the feather duster and stood looking awkward and nervous in front of this much younger woman, it was immediately obvious she was obsequious to the young black woman practically curtseying.

“Did you finish cleaning my bathrooms? Or your dusting, bitch?” inquired the black beauty, before sipping her drink, wearing the expression of exasperation.

My ex answered tentatively. “I, I, I was cleaning Ma’am when the door rang unexpectedly.” She stammered.

The stunning young black woman put her drink down and held out her free hand, touching her fingertips together, pointing upward. My ex immediately kneeled in front of her, arms at her sides. The young ebony beauty asked a question. “Did I tell you to go to the door?” The ex answered timidly “no ma’am.” The ebony beauty spoke again. “Are you forgetting your place here, your place in the world?” she asked. The ex answered again. “no ma’am. I did not forget my place.” She almost whimpered.

The ebony beauty turned on the small flashlight, or what I thought was a flashlight but it produced more of a bright strobe light effect. The exes’ eyes went immediately vacant, her arms went limp at her sides and her jaw went slack. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

The black beauty began a serious of questions, almost an interrogation of the tall, voluptuous pale brunette. “Why are you my inferior?” she asked. The ex responded with an answer I’m sure she had said 1000 times, as there was no hesitation. “I am naturally and genetically your inferior ma’am, submissive and obedient to your god given natural dominance.” She uttered.

The black woman smirked: “Are you content with the natural order now, that you accept my dominance and superiority?”

The ex again replied with what could only have been a very deeply ingrained rehearsed answer. “Yes ma’am I am content accepting your complete dominance over me and your genetic superiority, I am eager to serve and obey your every command. I am capable of nothing else. I exist to please and serve you.”

The beautiful black girl seemed to glow with the affirmation of her dominance over this Amazonian white girl. It was as if she was putting on a show for me, showing off her abilities.

“Show me your proper place bitch, commanded the black woman, as she turned off the flashlight and took a sip of her drink, casually dropping the sandals from her moist feet, and leaned back in the chair, smirking confidently.

My ex crawled on her knees and laid on her back at the woman’s feet, with her arms at her sides. While the ebony beauty sipped the mimosa she placed the soles of her feet on the ex’s face and rubbed them, back and forth. The ex half whimpered and half moaned in ecstasy and the much younger woman cleaned the perspiration off her feet onto her face.

Then the commanding black beauty moved her feet to the rather large breasts of her submissive using her long toes to pull back the threadbare half shirt and rub her feet all over the now erect nipples of her submissive. The ex moaned and whimpered quietly not daring to thrust her pelvis she so obviously wanted to do.

The dominant black girl spoke again. “How long you been my submissive little bitch?” The ex answered ”From the first moment I met you ma’am, and for as long as I can remember, I know nothing else, ma’am.” She whimpered.

The ebony beauty turned to me while she kept teasing her ‘pet’, wiping her feet off on her. “She always had it in her, she just needed a strong hand and will to take total command of her, to train her, to redesign her mind and shape it like so much clay. She just had her kid and was freshly divorced when I showed up to decorate my then tiny apartment.”

She said, then laughed and took a sip of her drink. “I knew by her answers to my decorating questions she was extremely suggestible, and her will was not as strong as mine. I decided right then and there I’d rather live in this big ole house with my own servant, and get my pussy licked whenever I said the word.” She continued.

“Yo bitch, lick the feet of your betters.” She barked at the ex, who rolled over to a kneeling position, and began to eagerly lap at the tops of the black girl’s feet occasionally looking up for approval from her better.

The black beauty laughed again at her victory. I asked nonchalantly: ‘So, where’s the kid?’ The ebony mistress answered: “He lives at his grandma’s house, the bitch’s momma don’t approve of her daughter’s ‘lifestyle’, being as she’s not only submissive to me like my pet, but she’ll lick the pussy of any of my black goddess friends if I tell her too. Shit, there ain’t nothing she won’t do when I demand it. Even if it humiliates the bitch it turns her on more than it does anything else.’ She snickered.

She turned to the statuesque white girl who was licking the tops of her feet. “Won’t you? You dumb bitch?” the ex answered immediately, “yes ma’am, I love to lick the pussies of my betters, your friends, it’s all I’m good for ma’am. It’s my natural place.”

The ebony beauty positioned her feet so only the moist soles were available now and snapped her fingers. “Lick the bottoms clean now, show me you know your place” she commanded. The ex diligently lapped at the pale soles of the much stronger willed woman, who gave her another command. “clean my sandals too bitch.’ The ex complied eagerly. Then abruptly the fine young black woman blurted:

“Suggestible bitch” was all she had to say. The ex’s expression went immediately blank, she hovered motionlessly kneeling, arms at her sides, waiting for instructions from the dominant black woman who was more or less her owner.

“You have no memory of any man you ever knew, or had interest in, just like you have no memory of any occupation except obedient bitch for your betters. You ain’t gonna recognize the man in the room when I tell you stand up. You gonna keep doing everything I tell you to do, and be turned on by it cause I’m telling you. You gonna be nonchalant and shit if he asks you why you love being my submissive bitch.”

The ebony beauty slipped her beautiful feet into her expensive well worn leather sandals, and stood up with her hands on her waist assuming a dominant pose. She winked at me and squeezed the cheeks of the woman kneeling before her, so the lip gloss coated mouth opened like a automaton. The ex stared upward at her black dominatrix as the black beauty allowed a large spittle to slowly cascade from her lips and fall into the helpless woman’s mouth. She then pushed the ex away from her and off balance, and the ex fell to the ground writhing in pure pleasure at the gift her better had just given her.

While many might be aghast, I admit I had an almost painful erection, watching the pure control this ebony beauty had.

I asked a question when it appeared the ex looked in my direction, seeing me but not really recognizing me.

‘So, how did this come to pass? How did you end up as the maid here?’ I asked, waiting for an answer. The ex looked at me as she’d look at any man she did not know. “I only remember I knew there was something special about my owner the first time I saw her, and every word she said felt like it echoed from inside my head. I never felt as free as I feel now, only having to do what I am told by my betters, submitting naturally to the one who allowed me to give her the control she deserved. Her natural dominance makes me feel instantly submissive and obedient. She lets me be at my rightful place beneath her, as her maid, as her servant. My only skill set is to submissively obey her and give her complete control. I have no desire to do anything but serve and obey my betters, this IS my natural place.” She said, smiling and lucidly.

“Well sir, I think it’s time for you to go now, You’d do well to forget about her as she has forgotten about you.” Said the ebony beauty, as a quizzical look came across the ex’s face, not really understanding. The ebony beauty unbuttoned her jeans and exposed just the cheeks of her smooth ass. Without saying a word to her, the ex crawled on her knees and began to gently kiss the cheeks she was presented with, ignoring my presence as I walked toward the door.

It was indeed a most unusual day.