The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

CH. 1

The funny thing is, it probably wouldn’t have turned out to be the worst night of Heather’s young life if I hadn’t been in such a good mood!

All I wanted was to have a drink or two and hang out and watch the crowd at a new nightclub. I had no intention of using my abilities on anyone. Frankly, I was just too relaxed to do much of anything. The only exertion I planned on was convincing the line of people waiting to get in and the doorman that of course I should just go right in.

I looked around the club—it was a nice big open place, with a huge dance floor. I liked the lighting a lot. Some parts were pretty brightly lit, others were very dark. It’s nice to have that choice.

I thought about getting a table, but a look around told me that getting a waitress would be impossible. So I joined the half-line half-mob waiting to bother the bartenders. The wait wasn’t that long, and when I finally got up to the bar and got a bartender’s attention, I happened to notice that the woman standing next to me was very very pretty. ‘What the heck,’ I thought, ‘I’m in a good mood. I’ll get hers too.’

“Whiskey-coke for me,” I told the bartender, then sorta waved at the woman, “and whatever she wants.” I smiled a friendly smile as she turned to look at me.

“Fuck off,” she said mildly. I blinked and felt my head jerk back a little in surprise.

“Just wanted to get your drink. Wasn’t even planning on bothering you.” I said a little defensively. She threw a little sneer at me and turned her nose up. I shrugged at the bartender, surprised, amused, and a little bit angry.

“Ok, just the whiskey-coke.”

I got my drink and found an empty little table, sat and looked around again. I already knew I was looking for her. I spotted her easily—she was a tall woman with a lot of brunette hair piled and curled on top of her head—sitting with two other pretty woman not far from the dance floor. I took a sip (already knowing it would be my last drink of the evening—alcohol screws up my ability) and slipped stealthily into her mind.

Her name was Heather. She was 25, a college grad with an entry-level management job and a bright future. She was smart, confident, competent, and had more than a little bit of bitch in her. She had a semi-serious boyfriend/ lover, but she thought he was a lot more serious about it than she was. Sexually, her history was almost depressingly normal. A handful of boyfriends along the way, a few of whom she’d slept with, two of whom convinced her to at least do a little bit of licking. Nothing unusual showed up, even in her fantasies.

I smiled evilly to myself. It didn’t matter in the least what she had been. Tonight she would be whatever I wanted her to be—and I was angry at her, and decided to avenge myself (petty, I know, but I’m no saint!). I drained the last of my drink and walked over to the three women.

All three looked up at me like I was crazy. There was nothing but ice radiating from the table. Heather spoke up.

“I thought I told you to fuck off,” she said, and her friends laughed. One patted her shoulder. I just shook my head slowly.

“Is that any way to talk to me?” I asked quietly, and in a flash I took her over.

There are a lot of ways I can control a person. In Heather’s case, what I did was very simple. I didn’t do anything at all to her—I just buried her ‘real’ personality beneath a new one, one of my choosing. In this case (surprise!) that personality was a sex-crazed slut who was completely submissive and obedient to me. Heather—the ‘real’ Heather—would try to act and react, but everything would be filtered through her new personality. Heather would try to say, for example, ‘go away’—but it would probably come out of her mouth as ‘you really make me hot’ or something like that. And she would do absolutely anything I commanded her to do!

Heather tried to say something, her eyes wide with shock, but her mouth just moved noiselessly. Her other friend noticed.

“Heather, are you...” she started to say, but I interuppted—being deliberately rude.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” I snarled at her. She was so surprised at being spoken to this way (most guys are intimidated by pretty girls; plus they don’t want to offend them just in case...) that all she could do was make little ‘uh!’ sounds for a moment. That was all the time I needed. I put a hand possessively on Heather’s shoulder.

“Say goodnight to your friends, Heather. It’s time to go.”

There was disbelief in her eyes, but Heather stood up, said ‘see you later’ to her friends, and started to leave. One of the other women jumped up.

“WHAT is going on Heather?” she demanded. I couldn’t help but grin.

“Yea Heather,” I mocked, “why don’t you tell them what’s going on?”

Heather stammered a little. “I-I’m going to leave with this stranger and...and fuck him anyway he desires.”

I grabbed her arm and hustled her out of there before her friends even managed to close their mouths.

CH. 2

We got into my car and I turned on the dome light and looked into her eyes. I could see it, underneath...fear and desperation and pleading...but only because I knew what to look for. Anyone else looking would have seen an expression that screamed ‘fuck me.’ I peeked into her mind, mostly to make sure the control was working perfectly, and in there I could also sense the fear and confusion. I smiled brazenly at her.

“Listen up, bitch,” I began, and I was pleased to see the way her hips twitched when I called her a bitch. The ‘slut’ part of her personality loved that!

“We’re going to buy you a new outfit. Then a couple of very special presents. Then we’re going to go to a party.” Her eyes were wide with what would have been fear but looked like delight. “While we’re running our errands, I expect my slut to keep her mouth shut.” Heather nodded automatically and vigorously. “I don’t want to hear anything unless I tell you to say something. I already know your personality sucks” and at this her brows knitted, just for a second, and in her mind she howled with rage, “but you do have an okay body. I guess that’s worth something.”

I stopped and studied her for a moment. Heather was trembling all over, still bravely fighting my control. I almost laughed.

“You still don’t fully believe that I have total control over you—do you Heather?” I asked, and let her up for a moment. She struggled to speak.

“I’ll fight you,” she choked out. I couldn’t help but scoff.

I took a long, slow look at my victim. She was very pretty and very tall—almost my height, and I’m six feet even. She was wearing black slacks and a dark red blouse that might have been silk. Her legs were long and slender, her chest was pretty impressive, and her brown eyes (even filled with fear) were very attractive.

“Are you wearing a bra?” I asked. Heather nodded once.

“Take it off,” I said mildly, and without hesitation her hands went under her blouse, and she squirmed around on the front seat until she pulled a lacy red bra out of one of her sleeves.

“How big are your tits?” I asked. “36 C” came the quiet answer.

“Show me your tits, slut.” I said firmly. She grabbed the bottom of her blouse and began to lift. I took a deep breath at the sight of her firm lovely globes, and hit her with a mental blast of great arousal—so great she made a shocked little sound.

“You like showing off your big tits, don’t you whore? It makes you feel hot—doesn’t it?” I demanded. Again, she nodded, but I wasn’t going to let her off that easy.

“Say it!” I snarled.

“I-I like showing off my tits,” she said, the sultryness returning to her voice as I shoved her ‘old’ personality back into the background.

“Before this night is over,” I said, starting the car and pulling out of the parking space, “you will show your tits—and much much more—to many different guys. Isn’t that exciting?” I taunted. The ‘slut’ part of Heather—the part I had created—nodded happily. The real Heather, trapped in the depths of her mind, howled in outrage and fear.

“Give your nipples one pinch—one HARD pinch—then pull your blouse back down,” I ordered, and watched as she grabbed her stiff nubs between her fingers and yanked at them until she moaned. Then she straightened her blouse, her aroused nipples clearly visible through the thin tight fabric. It was time to hit the mall!

CH. 3

I grabbed Heather’s hand and all but dragged her through the mall, her body smiling automatically at every halfway cute guy she saw. We walked past a lingerie store (for the moment) and wandered through a couple of women’s clothing stores, but nothing caught my eye. Finally, in a window display, I saw a wonderfully slutty little red dress.

“What size are you?” I asked and she responded “Six.”

In we went. A bored saleslady wandered our way.

“Kin I help you?” she said like a recording. I smiled.

“Yes, my friend here would like to see the red hooker dress.” I pointed in the direction of the display “in a size four.” Heather tried to look at me with surprise, but all she could do was nod. The saleswoman’s eyes widened a bit. She also looked Heather up and down once.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try a little bigger? Five maybe?” she asked Heather, but the poor girl just shook her head, a bimbo smile involuntarily plastered across her face. Off went the clerk, and I whispered to Heather to try very very hard to squeeze into the dress when it came, and also to skip the underwear. Down beneath my implanted personality, she shrieked and fought desperately to free herself from her mental prison. I reached out and gave her a pat on the ass as the saleswoman reappeared, and Heather automatically squirmed back at my hand in spite of the woman’s disapproving scowl.

The saleswoman handed her the dress. “Hurry up and try it on sweety,” I said gently, and she beamed at me and all but skipped off to the changing room, her expression and body language so completely screaming ‘airhead bimbo’ that it was almost a parody. I smiled innocently at the clerk.

“She just loves to buy new clothes,” I said as if that explained everything. The woman wasn’t about to blow the commission on this dress, but I peeked into her mind and was amused to discover she wasn’t sure who repelled her more, me or Heather.

My playmate was back in less than five minutes, her body spilling out of the red dress in every direction. It was a size too small for her (at least!) but in a slutty way it looked great! I turned to the saleswoman again.

“She’s gonna want to wear it out of here.” I began, and the clerk started to say something, but I just barreled on “so we’ll need to buy a wrap or a long coat or something to walk through the mall in.” I finished, and she nodded emotionlessly, although I think I heard her sigh a little.

“What do you think?” Heather bubbled, wiggling up to us and doing a quick pirouette that made the dress ride up just enough to make it obvious she was bare-assed beneath. I chuckled.

“It looks great on you. You look great!” I praised, and her face lit up. “But...” I started, amused by the way her expression changed as she hung on my every word, “those shoes will never do.”

She looked down at her feet (so did the saleslady), frowning at the black slip on shoes (pumps, I think they’re called) with a low heel. I addressed the saleswoman.

“Where can she buy a pair of red heels that will...complement that dress?” I asked, and with obvious distaste she named a store.

“Great! Thank you!” I over-acted. “Stay here.” Quickly, I walked over a couple of departments and picked out a maroon spring coat that would come down almost to Heather’s knees. It would be a little too warm for the night, but at least she wouldn’t get arrested!

I returned to Heather, amused to see that she was in exactly the same place as she had been. I walked with her to the counter and dropped the coat in front of the clerk. “Heather, pay the nice lady. I’ll be right outside on that bench,” I finished, pointing and then turning to go. I stayed in the store mentally, however, just in case the clerk took it in her head to try to give Heather some kind of annoying lecture or something, and because it was amusing to ‘watch’ Heather struggle so desperately to say something—anything—about her predicament to the woman, and fail completely. I also liked the inner anguish as she pulled out her credit card. I/we knew how much credit she had left, and I knew that we would go right up to that amount before we were through.

Heather came out and I led her to the lingerie store. I quickly scooped up a three-pack of cheap red thongs, and in a mock display of generosity paid for them myself. As we walked out of the store I handed her the bag.

“Go to the ladies and put on a pair,” I instructed “and then toss the rest in the trash.” She nodded and strutted off, hips swinging. She was back momentarily, and I noted that the small concession to her modesty of being allowed to wear ANY panties calmed her imprisoned ‘real’ self considerably. Hand in hand, I guided her to the shoe store. We were immediately greeted by a very friendly and enthusiastic young guy.

“Hello! How can I help you today?” he said with a very genuine smile, barely allowing the vision in red next to me to distract him from his job. I was impressed by his ambition. Heather nodded and smiled flirtatiously, complete with a little bit of a blush and a giggle.

“She needs a pair of heels—red heels—to go with this dress.” I said, and with a bit of a flourish Heather whisked off her coat and handed it to me, revealing her new dress. “We have a party to go to.” I told the guy, and he nodded, rubbing his hands together.

“Follow me,” he said, offering Heather his arm. She took it with both hands and pressed herself against him, making the poor guy more than a bit uncomfortable. He looked helplessly at me, and I smiled reassuringly. On the shelves, a pair of heels with spaghetti straps caught my eye. They weren’t quite the same red as the dress, but fairly close, and the heels were about four inches—better than I expected!

“Those,” I said simply. Heather sat down and gave the guy quite a show as he first measured her little feet, then a few minutes later delicately slipped Heather’s new shoes on her feet. She opened and closed her knees several times, exposing her creamy upper thighs and barely-covered mound to his gaze, which got bolder each time he peeked. Finally, her new shoes were all buckled up, and she got to her feet a bit unsteadily. She wasn’t used to heels that were quite THIS high!

“Perfect!” I exclaimed, and she beamed. “Honey, those shoes make your legs and butt look GREAT!” Heather giggled vacuously and actually looked back over her shoulder like she was trying to leer at her own ass. The shoe guy didn’t know whether to laugh or ask Heather for her number! Again, I waited outside while she bought the shoes—$400!! She was paying for being a bitch to me in more ways than one!

“We’re all done at the mall,” I announced when we got out of the store, Heather’s old shoes in a trash can and the new red ‘fuck-me’ heels on her feet. “Time to go and really have some fun!”

Finally, it was back to the car, Heather horribly ashamed at how slutty she looked and acted, but walking with as much wiggle and jiggle as an exotic dancer working a crowd, and drawing some appreciative glances. In heels that high, it was impossible for her to walk any way but slowly and sultrily, her legs seeming to go on forever below the tiny dress and coat, and her fine ass twitching seductively.

As we got into the car I couldn’t keep a huge grin off my face. I knew EXACTLY where I wanted to go next!

CH. 4

About half a mile down the road, and in the direction of my final destination, was a little mini-mall that featured one of those new type adult bookstores—they sell the same magazines, videos, sex toys, etc. as the old ones, but they have carpeting on the floor and you don’t feel like you need to be de-loused when you walk out. Heather was shuddering internally as I parked, terrified of what was in store for her next.

“Come along, my pretty little slut,” I said mildly, opening my door, and was rewarded with a very sexy smile. There were maybe ten people inside, all guys except for two college age girls who were together, and three employees—two women and a really big guy. That was okay though. I didn’t plan on causing any trouble.

I stopped just inside the door, my hands on my hips, and surveyed the scene. Heather clung to my right arm ‘Nancying’ me. (’Nancying’ is a term I kind of invented. It just means she was looking at me with the same wide-eyed breathless awe as Nancy Reagan when she looked at Ron. Remember? She’d sort of clasp her hands together and just look THRILLED to even be in his presence. And that’s exactly how Heather appeared to be looking at me.)

One of the female clerks approached, eyeing Heather’s dress, visible under her open coat, rather warily. She gave me the usual spiel, but I don’t think I gave her an ordinary answer.

“Yes, you can help me.” I started. “My pet here needs a new collar, leash, and plug.”

The clerk’s head jerked just a bit, but mostly she did a pretty good job of keeping her composure. Heather tried to scream at me, but all that came out was a breathless, excited ‘Thank you Master!’, which made the clerk’s eyes widen further. I had spoken loud enough for most of the people in the store to hear, and several were staring at Heather and I unabashedly. After a quick bit of whispering, the two other female customers hustled out of the store.

“Certainly,” our helpful sales girl finally managed to croak, “follow me sir, miss.”

We walked to the far end of the smallish store. I quickly pulled a black collar and leash down off the shelf (they didn’t have anything red!), as well as a pair of padded handcuffs just for fun. Heather I mentally sent a few feet further, so she could pick out her own plug. She pulled down a medium-sized one (I didn’t want to injure her!), and gazed at it longingly, rubbing her hand over the outside of the package and licking her lips in a humiliatingly slutty display. Finally, she held it up high for me (and everyone else in the place) to see, and I nodded approvingly. I also noticed that most of the guys weren’t even pretending to be browsing the magazines or videos anymore—they were all just staring at Heather, and then occasionally at me, probably wondering how an ordinary looking guy like me had gotten such a hot babe.

I waved Heather over to the counter, and put all our purchases down. “What’s the damage?”

The clerk totalled it up, and Heather obediently handed over plastic. “Do you have a changing room? Or a bathroom?” I asked while we waited on the computer. “I’m sure someone will want to wear her new...uhhh...clothes?” I looked at both women, unsure of what term I wanted to use, and they shrugged. “Ok, clothes works then. I’m sure she’ll want to wear her new clothes out partying tonight—don’t you pet?”

“Oh yes Master! Thank you!” The clerk frowned at the two of us, and Heather signed the slip.

“There’s a bathroom at the end of the mall—that way” she pointed as Heather took the bag.

“Thanks.” I said, and Heather all but jumped up and down and clapped her hands. I looked around at the guys in the store, and got worried enough at the half-laughing, half-lustful looks on all the faces that I sent out some pretty innocuous ‘calm down’ thoughts just in case anybody got it into their head to try to start a gang-bang. I didn’t blame them a bit though. Heather certainly looked and acted like exactly the kind of girl you’d want if you were going to have a gang-bang. Which was the plan all along.

Out into the mall, and with a pat on her lovely ass I sent her into the ladies. “Put on your collar, put in your buttplug, and bring the leash out to me. You have five minutes.” Heather gulped, nodded, and hurried as quickly as she could in her unfamiliar heels. I found the only available bench and sat down. Three guys had come out of the adult store, and one started in my direction. I changed his mind for him. I was too focused at the moment to improvise with any single guy.

I checked my watch, and got up. I hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave the restroom, so I yelled through the door ‘That’s four minutes Heather! You need to be finishing up in there!”

“I’m trying!” she returned, her voice a strangled moan.

I returned to my bench. Moments later, Heather limped out of the restroom towards me. The plug was very uncomfortable for her. She was an anal virgin, and had had only water for lube, after all. The combination of the heels on her feet and the plug in her ass made her walk something hilarious to see—like a very old lady trying to be sexy is the only way I can describe it. I stood and waited for her, grinning, the leash in my hands. She walked right up to me, and I reached behind her and slipped my hand up under her short dress. Her ass and thong were still a bit wet, so she had at least tried—ah, there! I felt the rubber of the safety handle against her ass. She had gotten it in! I was a little impressed!

“Very good, my slut!” I praised, and she beamed involuntarily. I took half a step back and clipped the leash to her collar, wrapping most of it around my wrist.

“Let’s go to a party!” I said brightly, and tugged her along at a quick pace, forcing her to hurry, knowing she was horribly aware of both how she looked to anyone watching (and there were a couple people in the parking lot who might have seen us) and very aware of the way the plug she was ‘wearing’ shifted about with each stride. Just for the heck of it, I added a little bit of pleasure to that feeling. The ‘real’ Heather was totally humiliated at allowing such a degrading thing to feel erotic. Of course, ‘my’ Heather didn’t need any more help. Just about everything was erotic to her! We got into my car and I reached across the seat, letting my hand dive between her legs. She spread her knees apart and lifted her hips like a good girl, and I gave her mound several hard squeezes through her tiny panties, pleased at how wet she was. Everything was working perfectly. It was time to give some people the thrill of a lifetime.

“NOW you’re ready to PARTY!” I exclaimed loudly. Anyone looking at Heather would have thought she was the happiest bimbo slut in the world.