The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sophia and I were unwinding in bed in the Oxford Hotel. I was trying to resume my story to her, but she was drifting off.

“I had to work into this from several angles. No one wanted to tell me how that casino offer worked. One of the first things that I realized from their stories and some more detail that they shared is that the management really did not want to offer those personalized prizes. That’s why they kept steering customers to the immediate gratification. If someone was easily manipulated, they would respond to the front room slots’ appetite for more and more spins of the wheels. A higher level of interest and they would find themselves in the Ultra-Platinum Room, where electronic dreams would turn into reality.”

“What about the entries on those data screens?!!” Sophia insisted on answers, in spite of her sleep-laden eyes and tired limbs. “I can understand the customers who were there being ready for action in the Ultra room, but the casino promised something from other people who were not there. Whoever the winners selected....!?!”

“Okay. What I did when I went to Reno was to figure that part out. They were offering something costly, difficult to obtain, and it was something no one wanted to talk about. I came up with the idea of going through the system myself.”

“You did what?” My lover had resolved not to be jealous in our peculiar, but satisfying, relationship, but every now and then one or the other of us slipped into that feeling.

“No one was going to tell me anything, so I went myself.”

“Couldn’t it have been dangerous?” She was wide awake for a few minutes.

“Perhaps if I indicated that I was going to rock the boat. If I had the chance, I could talk my way out of a problem, I supposed.” It was not a clearly safe situation, but I had dealt with clearly dangerous people before. Besides, I was beginning to feel sure of the hypothesis that I was developing—I just needed to test it.

“There was one part of my plan that I was not certain of. I was going to be spending Joe Martinez’ money, so I could get a lot of cracks at the prizes. Assuming that I could win one of the “data terminal” prizes, whose name should I type in?”

“Mine?” Sophia asked that in a tone that veered between hopefulness and offense.

“No, I thought of that. But it wouldn’t prove anything much. And if the two of us were involved, the casino operators or their contractor might have guessed that they were being investigated.

“I was thinking that I might have nominated Madeline Tremont, the international studies coordinator from back at the university. She had been giving me signals that I might be on the Tres Grande Vitesse track with her—especially after she had noticed how well satisfied the Wu twins from her program had been after my relaxation sessions with them. They had been behind, and now they were able to relax and understood so much! But she had turned against me for self-protection when the trouble with the Dean started. She would have been a tough cookie for them to chew on.”

“I didn’t think you would use sex for revenge,” chided Sophia. She was still a bit edgy about where this was going.

“I think I’m past that. I needed to nominate someone who would enjoy having sex, but had a reason to not pick me.” I hoped that sounded acceptable.

“Anyway,” I continued, “Fawn Ramirez took care of the matter.”

“Fawn...???” Sophia interrupted. “Related to Joe?”

“The young woman who I met on the plane to Reno. No, the name was just a coincidence.”

“You didn’t mention her before!” Sophia interjected.

“No, I was trying to keep this story straight. It was simpler not to mention her till now.”

“Uh huh,” she paused, and then laughed, while drilling me with a knowing look.

“It was just a random thing, we were seated next to each other, with an empty seat between. We had a good conversation. Some laughs, learned a lot across our huge age gap. I was mainly thinking of learning some background that might help me understand Carol’s story.”

Sophia’s hand grazed lazily over my tummy to my reviving penis.

“You’re sure you weren’t reverting to your former, naughty ways with co-eds?”

“It could have gone that way, but you know that I’ve been trying to stay at arms length from them. As you can imagine, this was an emergency.”

Sophia laughed uproariously. Somehow, I was losing credibility faster than ever.

“An emergency? I just thought it was some little thing that came up. Like now.” With a knowing glance, she curled over me to draw my semi-erection into her lips. With each skillful caress through her lips, I grew harder. Enveloped in her luscious curves, it was easy to find my story and Fawn fading away, as I concentrated myself into her.

A bit later, she lolled back with a confident smile, enjoying admitting the thought that she had captured the excitement that had been generated by the women in my story.

“They’re out there somewhere,” she whispered when I asked if the story was bothering her, “and I’m here taking pleasure with you.” She caressed my exhausted member and kissed me sweetly on the cheeks at the same time.

“And my business contacts will thank you, too....” she purred, placing her hand over her mons. “I can feel you melting into me now.”

I recalled that Sophia had read about the benefits of going ahead and enjoying our pleasing sex when she needed its physical magic; she especially loved to visualize the sweet effects on her disposition as my softening fluid soaked into her. When I was away, she still found ways to have my help with that. She would call room service for a glass of sherry, and then sit down in her robe with one of my old case files that was not yet ready for the Web, ostensibly to help me edit it. When I would return and find her marker, we would find ourselves discussing the case. I could tell where she had dropped the binder in her haste to grab her vibrator. And when we reached that point in our discussion, just as we did tonight, she felt that her clit had reached walnut size, and that even as I insisted that her reading my cases should not make her so horny, she was.

As I lay with Sophia, I began to remember Fawn again. It was so different with her, almost as though she was on the other side of the world from Sophia. She yearned for intimacy outside her family, her body was lithe and her lovemaking athletic. She had barely thought about how to hold me—she was used to having her boyfriend clutching her. But I am getting ahead of the story.

“So you met Fawn on the plane, eh?” Sophia nudged me to get me started on my story again.

“Yes, we talked about the usual things.”

“Like sex?” Sophia was teasing me again.

“No, not at first.” I paused. Sophia pursed her lips in a kissing gesture.

“Continue...!” she cajoled. I began to describe what I had learned. Sophia began to fall asleep.

“Fawn lives in Portland with her mom, but her dad lives in Reno. She was on her way to spend some time with him. She was just starting on summer vacation from Mt. Hood Community College. She’s taking some business courses, but has decided to study Psychology and transfer to one of the big state schools. I got the impression that she is pretty bright, but was just now finding a direction in her life.

“And she has a secret.” Sophia raised an eyebrow.

“She likes older men?”

“Not any more or any less than any other category. She likes to gamble. She slips away from dad’s place while he is at work, and hits the casinos in mid-morning. She’s under 21, but it’s the usual... she looks older, and she has a cute smile, and perky breasts....”

“Okay! I get it!” Sophia feigned horror. “Just don’t ask me when I could last make a security man melt.”

“Anyway, that angle kind of interested me. It brought me back to the case that I was working on, so I invited her to drop by the casino hotel that I would be staying in. We would just meet and have coffee and find out a bit more about her career ideas, and I would share some thoughts on her ideas.”

Sophia teased me with a knowing look, but I could see that this was making sense to her, even in her drowsy state. She was catching where I was going.

“That night, I spent some time checking out the lay of the land, so to speak. I went out to the Casino de Amour and waited at the bus stop across the street. Timed it so that I just missed one bus and had the full wait. It’s a busy place. A lot of singles went in... mostly couples came out. I went back to the hotel and made a few calls, enjoyed the view from the window over the city, and hit the rack. It was a rack, too. I think the casino uses stiff mattresses so that people won’t want to go to bed—they’ll keep playing the slots into the night.” Sophia nodded.

“Fawn came by in the morning. It was tough carrying out the plan that I had worked out for her.” Sophia looked more and more interested as I continued, as if ready to awake fully again.

“As we spoke, I could feel the draw developing between us. The tough part was that for the first time in such a situation, I had to convince her that having sex with me was not going to be a good thing. The casino has a nice little replica of a coffee house, just one of their many theme spots, and that early it was not too full. We were able to talk quietly, our heads leaned together to keep our voices from carrying.

“Her favorite show is ‘Undressed’ on MTV, I learned that and it made it harder for me! She had chosen a coquettish look for this morning, modeled on what she had seen on the late night program. Her black bra with the embroidery was bigger than the tight sleeveless sweater that she wore. That was just to get past the security guards, she assured me, as she smiled and tilted her breasts enthusiastically in my direction.

“She wanted to talk about how our subconscious minds are so interesting, the way that they think about things that WE WOULD never DO. I had to agree with that. But my conscious mind was about to do something that my subconscious told me I was crazy to try.

“Fawn,” I reached out and took her hand, “just relax for a moment.” She smiled, and willingly placed her warm hand in mine. As I took it, I let her fingers graze against my palm, and then held her arm with my left hand, her hand relaxing in my grip. She glowed with her expectations, frozen in our paused handshake, her mind opening for my suggestions. My penis pressed against its cloth restraints, sensing its moistening goal a few inches away in her designer panties.

“Fawn, I can provide you with good career advice, but even as your hand drops away to your side, you are going to realize that we should go our separate ways and never see each other again.” I paused, as she was looking at me like a deer caught in headlights. “And the more that you think about that, the more that you will want to enjoy other parts of your life.” I gently released her hand.

“She looked confused for a moment, but as she thought about what I had said, it seemed to soak in. She started to quietly cry, and two blue-haired ladies from Nebraska gave me a dirty look. I held her hand. We said nothing for a bit, and then it was as if we were two adults talking about career choices some more. She brightened up, and as we parted, the whole issue seemed to have vanished.

“The worst part,” I told Sophia, “was that I had just done what people would say was the right thing, and I felt terrible about it. We were one elevator button and a cardkey away from a beautiful day in my room.”

“Then I suppose that I should be proud of you, huh?” She leaned over and kissed me. “But, somehow, I think there is something more to her than that.”

“Yes, I’ll come back to Fawn.”

“And what did you do when you got back to your room after that?” Sophia was needling me again.

“Well, I did pull out that picture you gave me.”

“The one in the green satin?” Sophia smiled and I nodded.

“But I decided to save it for that night. I had worked out my plans for visiting the Casino de Amour as a customer. Hopefully, as a satisfied customer. I spent a little time getting my credit card balance cleared out, with some of the advance from Joe Martinez. Then I took a nap.”

“Dream anything interesting?”

“As a matter of fact, I dreamt that you were asking me if I had dreamt anything interesting! All I could come up with was that I had laid there wondering if Fawn’s panties were coordinated with her bra, and you kept pressing me for more details.” I affected a disapproving look for her.

“You didn’t fantasize anything about her? Really?”

“Nope. You’re the girl of my dreams.” Now we were caressing each other. My hand strayed down over Sophia’s tummy.

“Richard, you haven’t even gotten into the casino yet, and I’m horny again.” I nodded slightly, but my attention had shifted to her eager sex. I knelt over her, kissing my way over her breasts, letting the needs of her nipples stop me for a bit, then taking my way on down between her lips. She sighed as she felt my tongue circling closer and closer and closer to her clit. She trembled in my arms, and at the same time, I felt the steel coil winding inside her, the strong will that made her such a success in business, focusing on the moment when I would take her into my lips.

Sophia shifted her hips to ease the entry of my two fingers, dancing first at the lips of her vagina, then stroking, teasing, moving first in a frolic and then in earnest search for her spot. Capturing it at last, I drew her pearl into my lips and began to pleasure her from both sides at once. Familiar as we were with each other, I coaxed her onward in her free fall toward the kaleidoscope that she later revealed had spun before her. In our embrace, I could feel the pressure building through her, and as her sweet sighs grew lower pitched, her well-exercised muscles clenched my stroking fingers. Had I been inside her, I would have been a goner, but now instead I was enjoying being the man with the key who would release the woman within her.

Gasping for breath, she arched her back, pushing herself hard against my lips, tugging away from and plunging up toward my fingers. She inched toward the precipice.

Suddenly, she was over the edge, falling in my arms, her body safe and her mind freed of all petty restraints. When the tremors had died down, she seemed to float with me, that is, her body was there on the madly rumpled bed, but her spirit was somewhere else. I pulled the sheet up over us as she cooled off, and found myself looking down at her. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Go ahead with your case....” she murmured, falling deep asleep with the last word. I felt a rush of adoration wash over me.

“Wow!” I thought to myself, “I must be falling in love with her.” It was a thought that I had evaded for so many years that there was no effort. It’s not that I had not loved, it’s just that it had been generic, rather than being devoted to one person. A long, long time ago, Meg and I had a wonderful relationship that could have blossomed with time together, but that had run its course. Now, Sophia reclining in my arms so trustingly as I led her through her spinning kaleidoscope, was having a profound affect on me. I even began to think jealous thoughts for a moment. After all, I had not really asked her much about what she did at night on some of her long business trips.

Compulsively, I tried to think of an antidote, and of course the Casino de Amour case was perfect for that. I went into it thinking it was as far from Amour as a man or woman could get. Now, I lay awake reviewing that eventful night. And how would I tell Sophia what had happened there? Should I tell her? You tell me!

My experience on the front end of the Casino de Amour was pretty similar to what Crystal and Carol had described. Punch a few buttons, and a trackball emerged for me to guide. Armed with Joe Martinez’ cash, I began working the no-armed bandits in the front room of the casino. Soon, I was enjoying the stimulation of the plugged-in, turned-on devices. It was getting easier and easier to understand the fascination with this new level of gaming. Around me, others were plunking in the coins, swiping credit cards, shoveling tokens around in plastic cups.

I particularly began to notice the sharply dressed African-American woman at the next machine. She must have sat down there while I was absorbed in some detail. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the panel doors on her machine opening, and the phallic joystick rising to its erect position. She must have been in her 40’s, reasonably slim, and quite nonchalant as she slipped the Nipple Teasers into her expensive blouse. She was not intimidated by catching me looking sideways at her, and she laughed when I lost money on a bad move on my machine while watching her slide the vaginal unit from its pouch and down the front of her skirt.

Later on, as the intensity of play increased, I noticed her loosening her blouse at about the same time as I paused to unbutton my shirt. Her mint-green bra was framed perfectly in her deeply-opened collar, contrasting perfectly against her chocolate skin. She just grinned at me and returned to her game.

It was hard to think apart from the game, but it occurred to me that she was doing the same thing that I was—clocking up points to try and get past the offers of the orgasm of a lifetime from the machine to something else.

A crowd began to gather as passers-by realized that both of us were going to the high point totals. Just as Carol and Crystal had told me, the bystanders began offering advice. Some of them wanted to see the woman and me both get off on the machines right there. I could see her attractive smile growing wider as her machine tempted her to give in before hitting the big score. One of them knew a way that we could link our machines, and “play” with each other. A few, with big imaginations, rooted for us to get to the Ultra-Platinum Club. Nobody thought of either of us going to the screen that would let us select a third-party somewhere out in the world as our sex partner.

They grew restless now, as more of Joe Martinez’ hard-earned cash went into my machine. I went past the Ultra-Platinum level, triggering a strobe light and electronic trumpets.

“Hey, mister! You can stop there!” Someone in the crowd thought I was making a mistake. Here, he was probably thinking, is an idiot who could be headed for the Ultra-Platinum room right now, and instead he is clocking up more points.

I brought up the data entry screen.

“Awwww... shit.... fucking s.o.b....” The crowd behind me grew angry as I studied the point requirements.

“Fling” I muttered, “only 5 credits.” I typed in a name at that level: F-A-W-N R-A-M-I-R-E-Z. I added what personal information I knew about her, then returned to playing the machine.

Someone behind me was busy doing simple arithmetic. Over at the next machine, I saw the strobe light go off and heard the piercing electronic trumpets. The crowd turned its attention to the African-American woman. She studied the screen carefully.

“Yes!!! She knows how to do it” Someone shouted out gleefully, as she clicked on the steps to qualify for the club entry. They looked at me disapprovingly, clucking their tongues... and then stopped in dead silence.

While they were watching her, I had accumulated enough more points to also qualify for the club. What went on in the next few minutes was a surprise to me, and full of new experiences for both of us.

As if gliding on ice, an evening-gowned hostess appeared with our passes for the Ultra-Platinum Club. She led us through the admiring crowd, and I was struck by the way that this Black woman carried herself. I realized that she understood how silly this was, too—we had won only because we had lost more money in the machines than most of these people could get their hands on. Now we were being treated like royalty.

Doors hissed open, and our guide stepped back at the entrance to the richly furnished lounge, as though she was not permitted to go further. She motioned for us to step inside.

For a moment we stopped. The skimpily dressed attendant at the tv monitors was watching one screen with rapt attention, rubbing her palms rhythmically against her thighs as she focused on the closed circuit scene. Now she was licking her lips.

I turned to look at the other guest.

“We haven’t been introduced. I’m Richard.”

“Yes, Professor, I know. I’m Sherrie.” She smiled.

I about fell over. She half-motioned for me not to say anything. The nubile young woman behind the counter looked up at us.

“Oh! Excuse me. I got busy there. Are you together?”

“Uh... no...” Sherrie said. “Actually, I just kind of want to look around.”

“Me, too...” I added.

“Fine, but you have to change into playclothes, though. You might change your mind.” She grinned at them. “You’re sure you’re not together?”

“Uh, would you like it if we were together?” Sherrie asked.

“Oh, yes, but you don’t have to be. But, like, the Chamber Master, he likes it, because he says that the Gaming Commission and the Liquor Commission never send couples, cause it’s too personal. I mean, for them, they get too involved or something. They’re the reason that you have to change into the gowns that you’ll find in your changing rooms.”

Sherrie laughed, and segued perfectly into agreement with Miss Nubile.

“We were just kidding you. Richard and I are together. Does that make you feel better?”

Miss Nubile laughed in relief. “Oh, of course it doesn’t really matter. But here’s a card with your dressing room number on it. It’s a double. Number 9 is way down that hall—it’s a busy night. Oh, and here is a ‘just-looking’ pack for each of you. Please follow the instructions printed on the wrapper.”

The door hissed behind us and a thin blonde in her late 20’s came in, looking a bit edgy. A guy who could have been a football linebacker clumped in next. It was busy. We headed down the hall toward the end.

The room was decorated in neutral tones, and heated to a degree that made the idea of taking our clothes off seem like a good one. Pleasantly vague music came from somewhere. We dithered for a minute or two, reading the instructions on each other’s ‘just-looking’ packs, mispronouncing the French and German translations and trying to identify all the different Asian alphabets.

“Ahem....” I finally cleared my throat. We were not getting anywhere. “It sounds funny, because I have been with naked women a few times, but I’m not used to sharing a dressing room with one.”

“That’s okay,” Sherrie chuckled, “I have four brothers, and we grew up in a little farm house. You won’t see a naked woman here, but you’re welcome to watch.”

With that, she began an fascinating series of contortions, something that I have always wondered how women do, which resulted in her ending up in the issued long, flowing, sleeveless white gown. Her mint-green bra went on the top shelf of her clothing locker, along with her hosiery, all without me seeing more than a flash of extra chocolate. Then she turned slightly away from me, and in the blink of an eye, the mint-green of her panties joined the top shelf. She popped open the little pouch that was included in her ‘just-looking’ package, and reversed her sleight of hand to tug the issued panties up to snug at her waist.

“Well, now you go ahead and do it.” She grinned at me.

I was hopeless in this situation. I just turned away from her, and stripped off my clothes. Before pulling the gown over me, I slipped the issued jock strap up my legs and tucked myself in. That was easier than I might have imagined, because the situation was not as sexy as it sounds. Why did Sherrie know who I was? What would happen next?

What did happen next was that Sherrie teasingly murmured “nice butt for an old man” and slapped me playfully on the rear. I turned around and saw that she was watching me, presumably for the whole time. I grabbed my gown from the peg, and pulled it hastily down over my jock-protected penis.

With a frisky step, she led me back down the hall, toward the inner doors of the Ultra-Platinum Club. We were joined partway by the nervous blonde.

“I heard you say you were ‘just-looking’ and that’s me, too. Can I stick with you for a bit?” She looked appealingly at Sherrie and me.

“Sure, yeah,” we agreed. Why not?

The inner doors whooshed open, and we entered a long hallway. I realized only later that the slightly-perfumed air was probably a part of the entire set-up, perhaps laded with pheromenes; what I knew then was that the edgy blonde had begun to relax, and that I had begun to notice just how sexy both she and Sherrie were.

With the sleeveless gown, Sherrie still projected a confident sweep as she walked down ahead of us into a series of curving corridors. Her breasts were firm enough to hold the gown out in an attractive line, and with the sleeveless cut, enough of her breasts were visible from the side to make one think of further possibilities. In fact, her appearance made me think of drawings of ancient Egyptian goddesses. That whole effect was enhanced by her decision to keep wearing the gold necklace that she had worn into the casino. I wondered how she got along with cats.

The blonde, Susannah was her name, I learned, was only wearing one piece of jewelry that I could see—a wedding band. As we walked, her story spilled out. Married without enough thought, feeling trapped, not wanting to be unfaithful, and suddenly this opportunity—in Reno at a convention—for a risque evening, but of course, no sex planned.

Suddenly the corridor opened out at what turned out to be the performance floor level of an amphitheater. Ahead of us, people were standing, noses pressed against the glass of what at first looked like an upscale hockey arena. These fans, though, were not excited by goals being scored—I could see that they were intertwining in couples or groups as they watched whatever it was.

“Carla, it’s going to be better than you ever imagined” A big man, named Jerry, was encouraging, in a blustering way, his little woman. He bullied her into taking one of the theater style seats.

As part of the audience finally sat down, we could see what had caught their eye. In the center of the revolving stage behind the glass, an attractive woman was pleasuring herself. It was someone named “Shelly”—we noticed her name on an electronic sign over the glass divider under the heading “Coming Attractions”.

“Just before you guys got here, she came right over to the glass and made like she was licking the breasts of that woman over there!” A helpful onlooker filled us in on what we had missed. The three of us, soon joined by the football player, stood in awe of the whole scene.

Actually, the newcomer stood in more than awe. Apparently, he did not have an interest in wearing a ‘just-looking’ jock strap. His gown projected outward further and further as he watched Shelly’s skin take on a glow. I noticed him eyeing “just-looking” Susannah.

A musical cue seemed to indicate time for the people by the glass to sit down, and we made our way up into more theater seats the circled this sexual arena. Above the seats, and off to each side of them, we could see curtained boxes, as in an old opera house. We were trying to take everything in, but it was overwhelming. And as we looked back down the aisle stairs that we had just climbed, we saw Carla and Jerry being led by handsome, hooded attendants into the arena where the eagerly sensuous Shelly awaited them. A costumed Chamber Master spoke briefly with them, as if offering final instructions,

I suppose that the complimentary seatback condom dispensers should have been a clue that a lot of the customers did more than just looking. While I had seen live sex shows before in the Orient with Monique Tomas, my Portugese collaborator in the Oporto—Macao ESP Link tests, this felt like something different. It was clear that Carla and Jerry were not professionals, and that Carla was awfully frightened. At first.

Slowly, seductively, Shelly drew them into her, drawing out the inner urges that would convert their energy into the raw sex that began to engulf them. Petite Carla had gone from fear to ferocious lust, and Shelly winked at her catlike, as they understood each other’s needs. Jerry’s desperate entry from Shelly’s rear was only icing on their cake, his urgent pumping keeping the bass line rhythym for their soprano duet.

It must have been when Shelly’s tongue was deep in Carla’s clit that I began to notice the changes happening around me. Susannah and the linebacker were holding hands, and by the time I looked back, they were contorting themselves over the chair arms in an embrace that suggested something by Rodin crossed with Picasso.

Our linebacker acquaintance’s hand slid up Susannah’s slender thigh, pushing the gown out of the way. She gasped as his hand continued unhindered into her tight, blonde curls, pushing aside the tattered remains of the temporary ‘just-looking’ panties, beginning to pleasure her with his huge fingers.

Both Sherrie and I looked at each other in amazement, for different reasons, as it turned out.

“Did you see what happened to her underwear?” I whispered.

“Yeah, I thought that was just happening to me!” Sherrie responded in low, but more seductive tones. “Mine soaked through and dissolved a couple of minutes ago... and it felt wonderfully creamy!”

“You mean there was something in it, some stimulant?”

Beautiful Sherrie responded to my question by grabbing me over the seat arm and French-kissing me. It felt so natural to react in an embrace, and let my hand caress her breasts through the gauzy gown. It was so natural that I barely noticed as the dampness from my penis spread through the ‘just-looking’ jock. And our kissing was noisy enough that I did not hear the slight ripping sound as it gave way, nor did I immediately realize that my previously discretely tucked away self was now a tentpole stabbing outward in my white gown. I did notice the pleasant feeling as some kind of cream coated me from the decomposing jockstrap. I needed to be in Sherrie now!

All around us, couples were eagerly grabbing under the white gowns, flinging them aside, burying their heads under them. We raced up the stairs to the curtained boxes, flipping open curtains on intertwined lovers till we found one unoccupied.

More ancient-Egyptian looking than ever, Sherrie flung off her gown and reclined on the numerous pillows in the box, her gold necklace flashing between her proud, ebony towers. I knelt between her legs, slipping on a condom as she enjoyed the feel of my legs against her restlessly moving thighs. I knelt to kiss her straining nipples, and enjoyed her hoarsely whispered response: “remember, we’re just looking!”

Now, I lay in bed in the Oxford, wondering how WOULD I explain that to Sophia?