tagMind ControlThe Addicted Natural Ch. 16

The Addicted Natural Ch. 16


Chapter 16 – The White Witch of Walden – Summary and Conclusion


"You shouldn't be wasting your night with me, Master. The doctor said you can't make love to me. You should spend the evening with Brenda or Willie!"

I stretched out on my side next to her naked form and trailed a fingertip over the expanse of her distended belly. Pregnancy had really taken a toll on her, but then, I guess it does with most women. Brenda had made it a daily ritual to rub lotion into her stomach and breasts in an effort to keep the stretch marks at a minimum. Even so, a single mark had appeared, starting at her navel and extending almost all the way to her cunt. Her "innie" had become an "outie." But the most dramatic difference was her breasts; those glorious breasts. They were large and swollen now, and they sagged under the added weight. Her areolas were twice as large as they normally were, and they'd turned a deep, chocolate brown. She was pale from the time she'd spent in the hospital, and the incision on her side was very evident. They'd used glue instead of stitches to close the wound; a relatively recent thing in the wonderful world of surgery, I guess. I traced the new scar.

"Does it hurt?"

"It itches like crazy."

I laughed, and then turned thoughtful and sober. I suppose I'd better just come right out with it and get this over with.

"Dee, I need to talk with you about Willie's husband …."

Her eyes widened in shock, and she started back. She searched my face for some clue to what I wanted to know, and then suddenly her face dissolved into a mask of utter despair. Tears immediately flooded her eyes and she put her hand to her mouth.

"Hey, don't cry," I urged, "I just want to talk …."

"You KNOW!" she wailed. "Willie told you! I … I'm sorry! I didn't mean to kill him!" She sobbed. "No, that's not true … I DID mean to do it. I did it, and then I was GLAD I did it! Oh, I'm so EVIL!" She turned her face into the pillow.

"Stop this!" I insisted. Why did I always feel so worthless when a woman cried? "You DID NOT kill him. The tree killed him!"

She looked up at me and went on as if I hadn't spoken. "He was such a … a … terrible man! Did you know he was HIV positive? He'd had it for almost two years, and he was on medication; but he still kept having sex with women! Fortunately, they were almost all prostitutes, and they wouldn't screw him unless he wore a rubber. But he was going to do it to Willie! He planned to, just as soon as he had a million dollars! He hated her! He hated the way she made him feel all the time; the way she made him want her all the time. He was going to do it to her without any protection! He was an AWFUL man!"

I was shocked into a long moment of silence. "How did you know that?"

She looked guilty. "I can … I can go inside a person if I want to. I did that to him after he'd hit you; and threw Brenda down; and kicked Maxine; and he was going to hit ME, too. So I went inside of him, and then I knew what HE knew, and I said 'Bad Rudy! Why are you always so BAD? You're such a bad boy, Rudy!' just like his mother always said; in just the same tone of voice she used all the time. And, boy did that get him! You should have SEEN his eyes, Master. He was terrified! The big bully! And I did it again, too, later in the week. He was going to hit Willie again, but I made him stop! 'Such a BAD BOY, Rudy!'"

I was totally shocked. Dee was losing it; mentally as well as emotionally. I was suddenly very concerned about her, and my expression must have conveyed that.

"Don't look at me that way, Master," she said, the tears coming again. "Please don't think I'm crazy!" She pulled away from me and tried to get up out of the bed, which concerned me even more; so I held her tightly to me and she finally started sobbing into my shoulder. I stroked her hair and thought hard. Maybe if I was more placating about this psychic shit …. I finally decided to take that tack.

"Dee, I'm not faulting you for killing Dee's husband," I said gently.

She looked up at me through her tears. "You're not?"

"No, not at all. The guy had it coming. What concerns me is that you did it without consulting ME. I am your Master. You must never, ever use such powers without first consulting me."

"But I WAS," she said earnestly. "Or I was TRYING to. I was telling you all about it that afternoon, but the storm came too quickly to let me finish! Then, when I found out I couldn't make Willie move out from under the tree, there wasn't time! I used HIM to do it … and then I just made him stay there. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time …."

I lay there and thought some more. "What would you do if you found out there was someone in the world that I really, really hated?" I asked. "Someone I wouldn't mind seeing dead. If you found out about that, what would you do?"

She didn't hesitate. "I take care of him for you. I can DO that."

"Wrong answer," I scolded seriously. "Care to try again?"

She searched my face for a moment, and then lowered her eyes submissively. "I'd come to you and ask what you want me to do," she said meekly.

"Very good," I told her. "You must never, ever act without coming to me and asking first. From now on, it will be MY decision."

She didn't look up. "There is a time when I must disobey," she said.

Another shock. "What?"

"If something is about to happen to you, something sudden, I will protect you. If there's not time, I'll act. I must. I can't let anything happen to you."

I smiled. "That's a little far-fetched, isn't it?"

"It happened to Daddy," she said. "Bang. He was dead. I won't let something like that happen to you. I couldn't."

I sighed. "Okay, that one exception."

She raised herself on one elbow and looked at me. "And Brenda … and Willie. Can I still do it with them? Please? They LIKE it! It's … fun! Please?"

"Okay, okay. But those are the ONLY exceptions. Period. Understand?"

She hugged me. "Yes, Master!"

I held her for a long minute, thinking. Should I seek psychological counseling? But I couldn't! Our little ménage-a-quatro was utterly unexplainable. And it wasn't just Dee! Brenda and Willie actually believed in all this psychic shit, too. Coincidence and mass hysteria could explain practically EVERYTHING that had happened to us in the past few weeks, but there didn't seem to be any way to convince the girls of that. Finally, I just decided to let the whole thing go. On with our lives. Back to normal again. Crazy. Weird. Normal.

I pushed her back onto her back. "And now, I'll reward you for passing your little quiz in slavery 101 with a treat. Are you ready for sleepy-sex?"

"Really?" she gasped. "But I thought we couldn't …."

"That is no concern of yours," I said seriously. "Look into my eyes, Dee. Deeply, deeply into my eyes. Relax. Relax, my love. Just relax and look deep … deep. So relaxed. That's it. Let the sleepiness come. So sleepy now. And so heavy. So very, very heavy." She was going under very quickly. Well, not quite under.

This was a type of sex that Brenda and I had discovered early in our life together. I'm not sure exactly how I'd stumbled upon the concept, but Brenda had really loved it; so much, in fact, that I had saved it for special occasions. Once every couple of months, usually. And while Brenda had enjoyed it, Dee absolutely craved it.

She was very, very close to her trance now. "So very, very heavy," I intoned. "So very, very sleepy. You know what's going to happen now, don't you, Dee?" She made a little squeak of a moan. "You know that you can't go to sleep without me telling you to. You know that you can't move, can't speak …. You're soooo sleepy. So heavy. So tired." Her mouth hung slack, her eyes flat and drowsy and drooping. I rose to sit next to her on the bed. I began caressing her gently, stroking her belly, her sides, her breasts. "So helpless. Poor Dee. She's so sleepy; so heavy; so very, very helpless." I reached down and positioned her legs far apart. I pressed her arms by her sides. She remained exactly how I placed her. Her eyes were blank behind drooping lids, but I knew very well that she could hear every word, feel every touch. I began stroking her hairless pussy. Her breathing quickened, but she didn't make a sound.

This was the point that I usually mounted her. The ultimate rape. She would be like a rag doll in my arms, completely limp, completely helpless. It was ultimately like using a date rape drug, only my willing participant would be acutely aware of her situation, and would remember every touch, feeling, emotion. But in this case, I'd have to settle for sex without penetration. Doctor's orders.

"You're very wet, Dee. Are you still horny all the time? Like you told the doctor in his office? He laughed at you, you know. Silly Dee. Horny Dee. Always so horny. And now, you're helpless, too. You're so sleepy, but you know you won't sleep until you cum. You know you won't be fully under the hypnotic trance that you crave until your body overpowers your mind, and you cum." I began rolling a fat, brown nipple between my thumb and forefinger while I started rubbing her clit hard with the flat of my hand. "Such a helpless little girl. So very, very helpless …."

She began to shake all over, then she convulsed slightly several times, her arms and legs still motionless and pressed into the bed. Finally, the orgasm faded, and as it did, her eyes finally closed. I sat up and looked at her.

"Where are you, Dee?"

"I'm in my bed, in my wonderful room, Master."

I smiled. "And you can still feel the orgasm, can't you, Dee? Feel the afterglow of that strong, powerful orgasm."

Her smile broadened. "Yes."

"That wonderful, tingling, glowing feeling will follow you, will stay with you, even after I wake you up. You will feel it in your sleep, tonight in bed with me. It will be with you when you have nice dreams. It won't fade until morning."


"And you won't feel anxious about your powers, now that we've established guidelines, will you, Dee?"

The smile didn't fade. "There's nothing to feel anxious about," she said. "I know the rules now. And you forgave me about Willie's husband." A little frown. "Didn't you?"

I sighed. Mass hysteria. "Yes, I forgive you." I thought a moment. "When I awaken you, I know that you're not going to be satisfied until you satisfy ME." She frowned. "But how?" I continued thoughtfully. "How can you do that?"

"I could use my mouth!" she answered immediately. "I could slide to the edge of the bed and lie on my back and let my head hang back over the edge, and you could push your cock right down my throat, just the way you like, and you could come! Couldn't you?"

"Well, I guess we could do that."

And she smiled again. Dee really has a very nice smile.


My Dear Professor Fielding,

If you read this letter in its entirety, you will learn how to break all hypnotic connections I have maintained with your lovely wife. Forever.

(In Show Biz, that sentence would be referred to as the "hook." You see, I have a very personal, very selfish reason for you to read this. It was my great fear that when you realized who had written this letter, and knowing your great animosity toward me, you would simply discard it unread. I fear I am beyond your trust, but I must have your attention in this matter. It could be one of life and death … namely mine.)

If I am to do this properly, I'm afraid I must bare my soul to you. Not a pretty sight, a bared soul. Especially mine. Still, not everything in life is pretty. Whether you find the following tolerable or not, I urge you to peruse it all the way through.

My first "Natural" was my lovely wife, Jennifer. The first time I laid eyes on Suzy, my second Natural, I just seemed to KNOW how easy it would be to enslave her. She's the breadwinner in the family, by the way. With a little drug-induced hypnosis on my part, I was able to get a couple of the senior partners in the CPA firm she worked for to give her more opportunities, more chances, more responsibilities. Now, she's a senior partner herself in one of the biggest accounting firms on the east coast. Including bonuses and stock options, she pulled down seven figures last year. Oddly, she has sought out the part of "lowest slave" in our household. She lives to serve. Humiliation excites her. Does the pattern sound familiar, Professor?

And, oh by the way; congratulations! WELL DONE! I mean, Diana Darlingshire! Did you know that she was in last year's Who's Who? One of the 100 richest women in America! Not a mention of her this year, though. Just seems to have fallen off the planet. Not even a mention on Google in the past twelve months. It would be a real mystery, if anyone cared. It seems nobody does.

Anyway, back to our story. In the past six years, I've enslaved 19 Naturals, three of which I've kept for myself (I'll get to the third girl in my household soon. She's the reason I'm writing). Let me tell you what ALL the Naturals have in common.

First, I've slept with them all. I felt that I deserved this little treat. After all, I had THEIR best interests at heart. But I'll get into that in a moment.

Next, they were all very introverted. Nervous. Shy. Self-conscious. Unable to maintain eye contact unless specifically told to do so. Some were very intelligent, some were not. Some were into women's issues, others were conservative and traditional. But all were what I'd call "easily led." They took instructions quickly and without question.

I hypnotized each one of them without their consent. A few, once they realized what was happening to them, resisted; but in every case, they were too far gone to fight. They all succumbed. And they all went DEEP! Much, much deeper than the normal female subjects I encountered in my shows. After awhile, I wasn't even nervous about it, and I took them hypnotically even in public, just as I did with Brenda. It was ridiculously easy.

In each case, I made the girl believe that she had incurred a deep addiction to hypnosis. This addiction seems to take on slightly different characteristics in each one. Some appear to have an actual, physical need for it. Others seem to "remember" it the next time their Master tells them to "look into his eyes." In any case, the addiction seems to cement the Master/Slave relationship in the mind of the girl. You must remember that this concept is a very pleasant one for a Natural.

And now for the important point: each one of them was either already in a position of emotional "slavery," or was well on her way. All I can say is that they are BORN to be slaves. It appears to be their destiny. Even my wife, Jennifer. It pains me to admit that she was once enslaved by a pimp in New York City for almost two years before I met her. He was apparently killed in a gang-related incident, and in the ensuing confusion, Jen and a friend ran away to the Catskills, where I met her. But I KNOW in my heart that if I hadn't come along, she would have gravitated to another man who would have used her for purposes of prostitution.

So, try to see it from my point of view. I can look across the room at a pretty girl, and I somehow KNOW that she is either now, or soon will be, a sex slave. I also KNOW that I can intervene, through hypnosis, and guide this girl toward a man who will not only control her to her heart's content, but will also respect and protect her. As I traveled around with my act, I would not only look for Naturals, I would also look for prospective Masters. Several were college instructors, such as yourself, but others were professional men: engineers, financial managers, laborers. The bars are full of lonely men, and often, they're very good men. Once I take a girl to one of them, I judge his reaction and react accordingly. You see, I can easily make ANY Natural love ANY man. And I mean true love, here. In twenty or thirty minutes, she will be so deeply, passionately, overwhelmingly in love with him, that she will gladly give herself to him, body and soul. Forever. He will be a Master that she will love. And THAT is the best possible gift I could ever give her. As for the men, I simply give them a few simple instructions on hypnosis, and leave them to their own devices.

(YOU have been my lone failure in this department. I have never had a prospective Master treat me in such a way. But then, I underestimated the facts in your case. Brenda was obviously very much in love with you long before I showed up on the scene. You were obviously very much in love with her. Strange you'd never taken her out ….)

I've place all of my girls (except for my own three) with the types of men I've described; and so far there have been only three failures. That's MUCH better than the national average when it comes to broken marriages. In one case, my choice of gentlemen Masters had turned to drink and had severely beaten the girl on several occasions. In another, the man had left his "slave" for another woman; and in the third case, the guy and succumbed to the temptation of an easy buck by using his girl, night after night, as a high-priced hooker. In each case, I went back and got the lady in question, easily put her back into my absolute power; and then I took her to the cops. I had her swear out a complaint resulting in a restraining order, and finally, I drove her at least two states away, where I changed her name and placed her with another chosen Master.

I do not dabble lightly in the affairs of my girls once they have been "placed." For example, in no fewer than eight of the couples, the Masters have decided to use their unique situations to dabble in a little "alternative sex," such as wife-swapping, threesomes, watching while letting friends do it with her, etc, etc. I consider such matters to be private affairs, and I would never think of interfering unless the well being of my girls is directly affected.

Which leads to the question, of course: how do I KNOW about all these things? You, of course, have already stumbled upon that answer; and to your credit, you are the ONLY Master to have done so. During a certain week of the month, each Natural has been programmed to write me an email and "report in," so to speak. If there is no opportunity to write during her assigned week (she may be on vacation, for example), she will simply wait until the next monthly cycle. She will have no memory of contacting me. If she is interrupted in her assignment, she will simple delete the message and try again later, again losing any memory of what she is doing, or why.

In every case, she must report any significant changes her household has experienced in the past month. She obviously keeps me up to date on her address, and more importantly, on her relationship with her Master. And (I guess I'll bare my soul all the way here), she is required to describe her most memorable sexual experience during the period. I have kept these emails in a set of binders on my den, and I must say that they are a constant source of entertainment and amusement. For example, your idea of "sleepy sex" has become a regular part of our sexual repertoire here in New York. I wouldn't mind sharing some of the other great ideas that have come my way. Write me, if you want. (But somehow I don't think you will.)

And finally, I come to the last thing that Naturals seem to have in common. Now, hold on to your hat here. I know you're going to want to throw up your hands in disgust and stop reading this, but PLEASE don't. Not yet.

I swear that these girls appear to have some sort of psychic ability. It seems to be different in every case. I can't account for it. I don't understand it. I can only report to you what I have observed with my own two eyes.

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