The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A Game of Cat and Mouse

by Bad Penny

Halfway through her second glass of merlot, Samantha realized her warm glow wasn’t entirely due to the wine. She set her glass down carefully and cast a quick glance around the restaurant. The soft murmur of conversation and muted clinks of silverware washed around her like flowing water. The dim lighting and gentle fragrance of the fresh flowers in the table arrangements added to the lulling atmosphere, making it all too tempting to let her mind drift as she enjoyed the pleasures of her meal. Samantha had to hand it to the person dipping in her mind—he (or she) understood the power of subtlety.

So did she. Samantha smiled and took another sip of wine, using her appreciation of the taste as it burst across her tongue as a screen to hide her true self’s retreat. Her decoy personality flared to life in the outer layers of her mind. Samantha hoped her would-be seducer was not sensitive enough to notice the difference between her and Sami. It would ruin their game.

Sami wasn’t a particularly strong telepath, but she had learned how to shield herself. She had also learned how to have fun, but before she started, she had to identify her playmate. Sami knew she had to be within her (or his) line of sight. The gentle nudges were perfectly timed with the wine.

The couple at the table closest to her was disgustingly absorbed in each other—probably an anniversary. She didn’t have to venture out from behind her shields to pick up on their Special Occasion aura. Their lingering touches were proof enough, as was the fact they were dressed a notch above everyone else. If Sami didn’t have her playmate to worry about, she’d probably watch them more closely. The woman’s dark hair was bound up in an elegant twist, and she wore an obsidian pendant that shifted invitingly along the line of her collarbone every time she tilted her head back to laugh.

Sami didn’t have a way to look surreptitiously at the other tables, so she shifted and gazed out the window. The last of the color was bleeding out of the sky above the bay, and warm yellow lights dotted the hillside and the cityscape. The restaurant provided just enough internal light to reflect off the window, so Sami could see the city spreading out below her, and the ghostly images of the other diners stretching out behind her.

She savored the last few bites of her teriyaki steak medallions and her remaining wine, studying the reflected dining room. Nobody appeared to be watching her, and she did not dare venture beyond her shields to pinpoint her playmate’s location. Given the expertise of the nudges—designed to enhance the giggly effect of the wine—Sami knew the person had some skill. Until she determined the extent of that skill, and the strength behind it, she was best off behind her shields.

Sami settled back after her last bite, considering her options. Even behind her shields, she could feel the warm glow spreading. She licked her lips for one last taste of the wine, sharp, full, and heady. It made her wet.

No, that was another nudge. The slight tingle in her lips? That was the wine. The matching tingle around her nipples? That was another nudge. The rubbery looseness in her arms and legs? That was probably a combination of the wine and the nudges.

She pushed her plate aside. So, her playmate’s skills rivaled her own. Sami wondered if she (or he) had noticed her shields. She had learned long ago to layer her mind, so in the face of a mental assault, she could sacrifice the outer layers of her mind to protect her true self. Most of the time, it was enough. Those who relied on brute force rarely dove deeper once she appeared to submit. This playmate, though, had the potential to be more attentive. She’d have to remain alert.

Her waiter came to clear her plate. “Will you be having the crème brûlée tonight, Ms. Hollow?”

She shifted to face him, using the interruption as an excuse to scan the other tables. “Yes, and coffee please. With cream.”

There, two possibilities. An older woman—forty, possibly forty-five, with a streak of gray in her smooth black hair and a predatory gleam beneath her expression—seemed to be staring either at her or at her neighbor with the inviting obsidian pendant. A younger man—early thirties, russet hair, twitchy hands—looked away quickly. Sami made note of their respective positions, intending to watch them through her dessert.

Her waiter nodded. “Of course.”

She smiled at him. One of the benefits of having a set ritual, and of being a generous tipper, was that the staff at Kingston’s knew her tastes. Sami found her gaze wandering back to the older woman and forced herself to turn back to the window.

The red blur of the taillights of the cars streaking along the freeway curving through the city below was entrancing. Sami watched the ebb and flow with a faint smile. The warm glow spread to her cunt and pulsed in time to the red lights.

Sami drew in a sharp breath. The nudge to let her mind drift had slipped right in, and she hadn’t noticed. Her playmate was too good. She took a steadying breath and retreated further behind her shields. Two layers down. She’d give her playmate one more, and then she’d have to decide—submit or make a stand?

Any other night, she’d probably submit. It was safer and certainly more fun. She had no objections to one-night stands or brief little flings, which is what these things always ended up being. But these nights at Kingston’s were her own, and she resented the intrusion.

She thought there should be a rule—if you wanted a quick fuck, tinker with someone on the prowl at a bar or club. She certainly prowled enough, and yes, it was fun to tinker. Hell, it got her as worked up as her target. Sometimes more.

But there was a time and a place for everything, and this was her time.

Her waiter came back with her crème brûlée and coffee. Sami added the cream and cupped the delicate mug in her hands, letting the heat cut through the warm glow of her playmate’s nudges. Her first sip strengthened her resolve. Forget about having fun. She’d give her playmate one more layer, and then she’d show her (or him) what she thought about the intrusion.

The decision made her first bite of the crème brûlée that much sweeter. She took her time with her dessert, keeping an eye on the reflections of her two potential playmates.

The couple next to her paid their bill and left, giggling and holding hands. Sami twisted to watch them weave between the tables with what she hoped was a sappy smile. The younger man with the twitchy hands paid them no mind. The older woman met Sami’s eyes briefly before looking away.

Sami turned back to her dessert and squeezed her thighs together. Maybe she could reconsider her stance. After all, she hadn’t had to give up another layer yet.

Her waiter left the check at the edge of her table. Sami took a moment to fish out her credit card before concentrating on her dessert again. She finished just as her waiter returned with the slip for her signature. She left her customary tip and cast one more glance out the window as she took the last few sips of her coffee.

Neither of her potential playmates looked up at her as she left the restaurant. Sami paused outside the door, tilting her head back to enjoy the faint salty tang drifting up from the bay. The night air was pleasant—not too hot, not too cool, not too humid—and it stripped away some of the influence of her playmate’s mental nudges. She felt pleasantly full and satisfied as she started over the bridge towards her neighborhood.

The homes around Kingston’s were built in the 1920s and ‘30s, and the area had retained its quaint charm with old-fashioned streetlights and, in some places, cobblestone streets. Sami enjoyed the walk to and from Kingston’s as much as she enjoyed her meals. Few places gave her the same sense of history. Purchasing her home had stretched her uncomfortably thin those first few years, but it had been worth it.

Sami smiled. The loose rubbery feeling in her limbs made her feel so relaxed, and the faint hint of lilac in the air was so soothing. She giggled and licked her lips, tasting a faint echo of her merlot.

Her giggle faded. That wasn’t right. If anything, she should taste the coffee.

So, her playmate was following her. She retreated another layer into her mind and crossed the street. She couldn’t tell if she had given away the location of her house, but in case she hadn’t, she had no intention of leading her playmate home. The local park would do just fine for a confrontation.

During the day, the park was home to squealing kids playing tag or crawling over the playground set. In the afternoon and evenings, it was home to teenagers, who snuck into the bushes to get high, make out, or both. At night, though, it was usually empty, thanks in large part to periodic patrols by the neighborhood watch.

Sami settled into one of the swings. Yes, the park would do just fine. She waited.

A giggling couple entered the park. Sami stilled her slight swinging and held her breath. They didn’t seem to notice her. Her breath caught as they passed under streetlamp flanking the entrance. It was the disgustingly absorbed couple, the one likely celebrating their anniversary. Had they been...?

They collapsed onto a bench in the far corner of the park, laughing and pawing at each other. Their voices barely carried over to Sami as they began making out in earnest. She smiled. No. They hadn’t been tinkering. They were just—

“Recapturing their youth.”

Sami startled at the deep voice. Warm hands folded over her grip on the swing’s chains, and an equally warm chest pressed against her back.

“They’re high school sweethearts. Married fifteen years. Used to make out on that very bench.”

Sami tried to pull away, but the grip on her hands tightened. She was jerked back down into the swing.

“But you would have figured that out if I didn’t interfere, hmmm?”

She kicked blindly behind her. Her assailant caught her legs between his. She stilled, letting her fear bubble up through all the layers of her mind. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, pleased by the faint tremor in her voice.

“I simply mean they won’t notice us, though they would have noticed you eventually and would have provided an explanation. They look gorgeous together, don’t they?” He lowered his voice to a purr and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Almost as gorgeous as we’ll look together.”

Sami felt herself nodding. She retreated deeper, cursing herself for not being more alert. How had he managed to slip under her shields?

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” He let go of her hands and trailed light fingers down her back.

His touch sent a wet jolt straight to her cunt. She squirmed. Her shields faltered, and Sami felt a brief stab of panic as she curled down as far as Samantha would let her go in her mind. One more touch and—

He kissed the back of her neck. She whimpered as his heat washed through her, sweeping away her shields, her resistance, most of her mind’s layers.

He guided her out of the swing and over to the low fence surrounding the play area. Every time she tried to turn, he kept her facing forward with firm hands.

“None of that, now,” he said the third time. “Here.” He guided her hands to the top of the fence and bent her over. “Steady yourself.”

“I don’t—” She gasped as he ran his hands around her waist to undo her slacks. He worked them off in a cool rustle of fabric, then did the same with her panties.

The suddenness of the cool air on her slick thighs made her shiver. He made a pleased sound as he began teasing her with slow fingers. She found herself breathing in clipped, quick pants, felt herself flush as he slid his other hand beneath her shirt and began toying with her breasts.

“That’s it, lovely, just like that.” He pressed against her, and she could feel his hardness press between her cheeks through the soft fabric of his pants.

She moaned and squirmed against it.

His breathing matched hers, hot against the back of her neck. He kissed along the back of her shoulder, up behind her ear.

“How did you—” Sami groaned as he changed the angle of his fingers, hitting her just right. “In Kingston’s?” she finished.

“Talent.” He nipped at her earlobe. “You have some, too.”

“Some,” she admitted, clenching around his fingers.

“I—ahh—thought you caught me. Had to divert your attention.”

Sami recalled the woman with the streak of gray, feeling a slight pang of regret. She had looked like someone who would taste delicious.

Though this man’s hands felt pretty delicious. She thrust her hips, trying to get the right kind of friction. And to think she had considered them twitchy!

“Why?” she asked, whimpering as he withdrew his hands. She heard him fumble with his belt and zipper.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and he pressed against her again, teasing her slit with his cock.

Sami felt her flush deepen. She’d been called adorable, perky, and vivacious, but beautiful was a new one. She had no idea she could get so squishy over a compliment.

He entered her with a slow, deep stroke. Sami groaned and arched against him, clutching the top of the fence. Fuck, he felt good!

He set a perfect pace, changing the angle of his thrusts so sometimes he was shallow, sometimes deep, and always maddening. He circled her clit with his fingers, bringing her right off to the edge before backing off. She growled at him.

“Have to—shit,” he gasped as she squeezed, “make it last.”

“Tease,” she said between gritted teeth.

He chuckled. It thrummed through her, and then she was coming, arching back against him with a strangled cry. He gave one more deep thrust, and then Sami felt him coming, too.

He slumped against her for a moment, panting. Her legs trembled, barely able to hold her weight, and even her arms felt weak. She smiled as he withdrew.

“That was...” his voice, shaky, trailed off.

Samantha stood and stepped delicately out of the tangle of cloth around her ankles. Shock fluttered across her would-be seducer’s face as she launched her true self out of the deepest layer of her mind and slid under his lowered defenses.

“Silly boy,” Samantha said in her husky alto. She pushed him back and guided him to the ground, straddling his hips.

His eyes widened as she slid along him. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, taking a moment to admire his firm muscles, hardening nipples, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Such a pretty, silly boy.

A low moan carried over from across the park. Samantha looked up at the couple on the far bench. The wife settled on her husband’s lap, letting out a breathy sigh that barely carried across the park as her husband nuzzled her breasts. Samantha chuckled and sent a little nudge their way. She’d love to watch them fuck as she rode her boy’s cock, and since he was too exhausted to fight her, she’d have enough energy to ensure their privacy.

Samantha smiled and extended her reach deeper into his mind to make him hard again. She peeled off her shirt and bra and brought his hands to her breasts. “Let me show you what I really like.”