Year 2 of Spell… B-O-U-N-D’s Femdom Hypnosis and Mind Control 55 Words Stories Challenge. The stories in this post were written between August 1st and August 31st.
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Party Night
“What a migraine…” Jeremy mumbled.
“Party night?” Oliver inquired.
“Not sure.”
“Ah… hangover.”
“I do recall being hung at some point.”
“Are those rope marks on your wrists?”
“I guess.”
“It looks like you have a kinky side after all.”
“That’s what Darla said…” he drifted off, eyes defocusing.
Hypnotic BDSM was her favorite cocktail.
Another month begins, and the challenge continues. Work kept me pretty busy, but the real star of the show was the hours I spent fighting a migraine. Don’t know the reasons that caused it, but used the fact as the basis for today’s entry. Would you appreciate such a combination?
The Routine
Every day, before lunch, she sent him an e-mail saying:
“You are mine to command.”
And every day, before lunch, he replied:
“Always, Mistress.”
Every day was the same, the perfect routine, scrumptious meal for a well-trained submissive mind.
And then, one day, communications failed, the Internet collapsed…
… and his screen was drenched in blood.
A horror story. It’s not meant to be pretty, it’s not meant to be funny, it’s not meant to make your libido run wild. It’s a horror story, pure and simple, a piece about patterns, pre-established sequences and what might happen if, for unexpected reasons, they fall apart. Mind-control is a fluid concept here but routines have a way of conditioning one’s thoughts and actions so… I love horror stories so when the idea came to me, I had to write it.
Inner Voice
“You need to write a story in fifty-five words.”
“I know.”
“It must have female dominance and mind control at its core.”
“True.”
“The four preceding lines had a total of twenty-three words.”
“Really?”
“You’ve reached thirty-eight now.”
“Okay.”
“Only thirteen left.”
“Huh?”
“Eleven.”
“Sneaky countdown, huh?”
“Perhaps. Seven.”
“Six?”
“Just finish already.”
“Yes, Muse.”
This one is silly. After yesterday’s slice of horror, I just had to make fun of myself, and so I did.
No Lies Detected
“Have you ever been mind-controlled?” a disembodied voice asked.
“Never,” Quentin replied.
“Are you telling the truth right now?”
“Of course.”
“The machine agrees. You’re dismissed.”
“Finally!”
He left the room in a hurry, happy to be free.
“It’s amazing how he beat the polygraph,” Kendra commented.
“I call it a job well-done,” Lana smirked.
19th-century Indian clergyman Swami Vivekananda once wrote: “Truth can be stated in a thousand different ways, yet each one can be true.” However, this piece has got nothing to do with it, I just wanted to write it down.
Okay, I lied. Or did I? Truth is hard to ascertain sometimes, especially if there’s mind-fuckery involved.