A Dream of Extreme Control (part 7) – NSFW

Yes, I know it has been a while since the last installment. But the next part is here now, so on with the disclaimer. This post is Not Safe For Work. This post is only for mature audiences. This post contains part seven of a story with sexual language, naughty words and an extreme level of control by one person of another. (one, two, three, four, five, six) So there is no mistake, I repeat, this story involves an extreme level of control by one person of another. This story is fiction. Reader discretion, as always, is advised.

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“Time to play, lass. Stand up.” He watched her obey. He leaned his mouth to her ear. “Listen carefully,” he said, “Masturbatory slut time, level five.”

He watched as her body responded just as he wanted. He had told her to stand up so he could see her body sink down to a kneeling position as her left hand pushed fingers inside her, and her right hand reached out to stroke his cock. Her breasts flushed and her nipples darkened. She whimpered before once more rubbing her nipples against his legs as she stroked his cock and rubbed it against her face.

As before, the moment he had spoken the trigger command, she had forgotten it. But she knew he had spoken one. And she knew her body was obeying commands he had placed in her mind. She felt her left hand moved down to her hot cunt, and she knew her need to touch herself was triggered by him. But she also knew it was a control she relished.

Before he had begun controlling her this way, she had done many wild things. She had been without control. And there had been times when she had been a true slut. She had seduced men, thrown herself at men, as if she had needed something. What she had needed, she had not known. Not until she had begun to see the futility of her wildness. When she finally had come to beg for control, she had known that she felt unsafe and lost. And she had craved to feel safe and wanted and to belong.

And he had given that to her. He had taken her in. He had given her what she wanted. And so now, in this moment, when she knew she was acting like a slut as his command, she felt desirable and wanted and safe. When she looked up at him, she looked up at him in love and adoration.

And in lust. She wantonly rubbed her achingly stiff nipples against his legs. She leaned to him and rubbed his cock against her face. She felt the warm, stiff flesh against her cheeks and her nose and her eyes and her lips. She moaned as she felt blood pulse in the veins of the cock. She had four fingers from her left hand sliding back and forth inside her. Her thumb rubbed against her clit. Her left hand was thickly coated with the slick juices of her arousal.

He moaned softly as he watched her adore his cock. Her right hand stroked his cock and pushed it over the soft skin of her face. It was almost a worship. It was not a thing he had made her do. The command he had given to her then hypnotized mind was the increased arousal, the slutty rubbing of her nipples against him, and the need for her to masturbate with her left hand while she stroked him with her right. Her rubbing his cock against her face was entirely her own choice.

He watched her face. She was smiling. Her eyes were closed, and she moved her head slowly side to side, as if she wasted to memorize his cock felt against every part of her face. Her skin was soft. It felt like warm silk under his cock. He put his hands into her hair. “Good girl,” he said in a moan. She moaned softly and began to whisper. He had never commanded her to whisper such things. They flowed from her own will and desire. And he thought to himself that never had she seemed more beautiful to him.

When had called her a good girl once again, she moaned and realized how deeply she loved him him for giving her this moment. “Yes,” she began to whisper, “I am your good girl. I am yours. Your girl. I am all wrapped up in your control. I am yours. I know you did not have to take me back. I know you did not have to control me so fully. But I needed you to.” She moaned as she kissed his cock. She continued to rub it against her face as she whispered. “I need this control. I need to be yours. And I love you for letting me yours. I am yours, yours, yours. I am your toy, your plaything, your sex object, your whore, your slut, your sex toy, your sex slave. I am yours. I want to be. I need to be. I have to be. I am yours. Yours. You are Master. I am yours. I love you. I need you. I am yours. Yours, yours, yours.”

She did not know or understand from what deep need the words flowed. But whispering them felt like a release as potent as weeping. And in fact tears were trickling from the corners of her eyes.

He had listened carefully to her whispered words, and he too had tears at the corners of his eyes. What other woman could be as beautiful as this one, he wondered. What other woman could touch him as deeply? None. She was his. And he knew too that he was hers. Not because of the words she had chosen, but because she had spoken them of her own choice. Deep in his control of her, she had unexpectedly whispered the words he had longed to hear. She loved him. She needed him.

As she moved his cock to her mouth, she tasted the first drops of precum from his glans. She wiped the precum on her lips, using the tip of his cock to paint her lips with the slick, glistening fluid. Her cunt was flooded with its own slick fluid. Her body was trembling to need that seemed to make her whole body ache.

“Please,” she began to plead, “make me cum.” She heard her own voice sounding like a little girl begging for a toy. “Please, I need to cum.” Her fingers were pumping inside her relentlessly. Her body shuddered constantly. Her thumb was stroking her clit. She felt like a slut. She could not stop masturbating. She could not stop worshiping his cock. “Please, please, make me cum.”

“You know…” He shuddered. “You know what you need to do to get permission.”

“Yes, Master,” she said. She moaned. She was not sure how she knew, but she did know. Reluctantly, she pulled her face back from his cock. She stared hungrily at the glans. She licked his precum from her lips. Her right hand stroked him faster now. Her mouth was open because she was breathing in gasps. Her cunt was clenched tight on the fingers of her left hand. “Yes,” she whispered. “Mark this girl… yes… oh god… mark this girl as your slut. She is yours.”

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Yes, this story will eventually have a conclusion. But not yet. There is a little bit more to tell. If you like this so far, leave a comment below.

Anyway, thank you all, readers, for stopping by to read my posts. There will be lots more in the new year. And I have not forgotten about that other story I started so long ago. I will return to it and write of other “dreams”. And, of course, I will wax eloquent about politics and social issues and all sorts of other things. In the mean time, have a good weekend, and a merry new year’s eve and day. Be good, students. And, as the wise man once said, if you cannot be good, be careful. Stay safe out there. No driving while intoxicated. See you in 2013.

2 Responses to “A Dream of Extreme Control (part 7) – NSFW”

  1. I hope this story never ends!!! I am so glad to have stumbled upon your blog. The only thing I need now after being fully aroused from your elaborate descriptive words dripping with pleasure as I eagerly toy my swollen clit is for those words to ‘cum’ to be whispered to me. I hope one day I get to exerience this level of control, belonging, discipline, training, longing, lust, desire and love from an equivilent Master. Thankyou you for sharing this with the world.
    Carlie

    • Thank you. I am glad you like the story so much. This story will end at some point, but if you keep being so enthusiastic for more, I might write another story about this or a similar couple.

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