The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sunday was another typical summer day in the Washington area. By 9:30 in the morning the temperature was 85 degrees and the humidity was 97 percent. You get used to it when you live here long enough, but that doesn’t mean you ever get to like it. We were prepared, though. We had two huge coolers full of iced down beer and sodas ready to go, and the pool was freshly cleaned. We knew we’d be using it extensively that day.

The cookout was a lunch affair. Guests started arriving around 11:00, most of them in bathing suits already, and hit the pool in short order. Helen and I prepared food and set up a self-service buffet table, then changed into our own bathing suits for a sociable dip.

By two o’clock the afternoon sun and the near toxic air quality were getting to people, and the party had dwindled down to just Helen, Larry, Peg and me. We were beating the worst of the heat by staying mostly underwater. Our pool is an odd style, almost like a hotel pool. There is a big kidney-shaped section deep enough for adults to swim and dive in, and set into the bend is a smaller, shallow part that was designed to be a kiddy pool but works equally well as a sitting-around tub for adults. There are no jets like a real spa would have, but the recirculating pump does generate a soothing current. A brick patio surrounds the pool on all sides, and a redwood privacy fence around the whole back yard gives the pool area an open but intimate feel.

The four of us were sitting in the shallow part, talking and joking and sipping beer, when the doorbell rang. Not wanting to slog sopping wet through the house, I climbed out of the pool and went to the front most corner of the fence. “Come on around to the right,” I told the unseen caller. “We’re in back.”

“Coming.” The voice was female, young and familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. Then I saw a blonde head following the fence and I knew who it had to be.

“Hi, Kym,” I greeted her as I opened the gate. She was dressed in a simple white dress and boat shoes. “Glad you could make it.”

She smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “Me too. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“No problem. To tell the truth, I’d forgotten that we invited you. We’ve already put the leftover food away, but if you’re hungry we can fix you up in no time.”

Larry and Peg stood up when we turned the corner to the pool area. Peg looked at Kym curiously. “Have we met somewhere?” she asked.

“Allow me,” I said. “Larry and Peg, this is Kym. She works at Intimate Adventures.”

“Oh, of course,” Larry replied. “No wonder you looked so familiar. You’re the receptionist, aren’t you?”

“That’s me,” Kym confirmed. Just then Helen came out from the kitchen and greeted Kym with a cold beer and a sandwich, which she accepted gratefully. “I have something for you too, Helen.” She produced a small, shiny gift bag tied shut with a sparkling ribbon.

Helen’s face lit up. “Oooh. Can I open it now?”

“Go ahead.”

Helen carefully untied the shiny ribbon and reached into the bag, pulling out a wad of white tissue paper. Then she took a long look inside and squealed with glee. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”

“What is it?” I asked, but instead of answering me she clutched the bag to her chest and retreated into the house with it. I turned to Kym and repeated the question.

“You’ll find out in a few minutes,” she assured me. The rest of us stayed in the pool while Kym ate her sandwich, waiting for Helen to come back out. I was starting to wonder where she was when I heard her voice from inside the house.

“Ready or not, here I come!” The patio curtain moved and there was Helen standing in the doorway. She wore only a gleaming white string bikini, tied in bows at the sides with a triangle top that clung provocatively to her tits. Seeing that she had our complete attention, she turned around and showed us the narrow strip of fabric covering her crack. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Well? What do you think?”

Despite having a really nice body, Helen has always tended toward modest, one-piece suits. Standing there in that skimpy little bikini, though, she looked damn good to me. “You look great, honey. Two thumbs way, way up.”

“Hey, that’s not your thumb!” Larry joked, pointing to my swim trunks. No, I didn’t have a lump in my shorts, but I knew if Helen wore that suit into the water I would. Every time Helen moved the tiny patches of cloth would shimmer, drawing my eye back to her body. Not just my eye either, although Peg didn’t seem to mind how Larry watched.

Helen stopped posing and turned back to Kym. “Can I actually swim in it?” she asked.

Kym nodded. “Oh, definitely. I’ve got one just like it and I’ve never had a problem with it. In fact, I’m wearing it now.” That was when I realized that what had looked to me like a dress was actually a cover-up. Kym reached into the deep front pocket of her outfit, pulled out a rubber band, and proceeded to bind her long platinum hair into a tight cluster that sat just off her neck. Then she popped the snaps on the front of her wrap and slipped it off, revealing a magnificent young body in a powder blue bikini exactly the same style as Helen’s. “See? We’re even the same size.” They were, for the most part, but Kym has slightly bigger tits than Helen does. From our vantage point in the smaller pool we could see the bottom curves of Kym’s tits as they strained against the fabric.

All three of us stared shamelessly as Helen and Kym shed their footwear and dove into the large pool. Kym was a natural swimmer, fast and graceful, switching smoothly from breaststroke to backstroke to butterfly. Helen circled the pool with a lazy backstroke, letting the sun sparkle off her wet skin and watching me with a lusty look. We continued to ogle in silence until the girls swam up to the partition dividing the small wading pool from the big one. In one joint motion they dipped down to the neck and then pushed up, clearing the water and deftly swinging their legs over the partition to land sitting on its top edge. The sight of all that water sliding off all that exposed skin was almost a religious experience. I was glad the swirling water made it difficult to get a good look at my swim trunks, because they were tenting badly.

“Did you miss me?” Helen asked sweetly, sliding off the divider into the wading pool and snuggling up to me. Her hand quietly reached down and squeezed my cock through the baggy shorts, but she didn’t say anything.

I was going to answer, but my brain vapor-locked when I noticed that instead of joining us in the wading pool, Kym was crawling along the top of the divider and around the edge of the pool. Even Helen stopped talking and watched the girl in silent appreciation. When she reached where Larry and Peg were sitting, Kym placed her head between them and whispered something. My friends’ faces blanked for a split second, then they nodded and seemed to be fine. Seeming satisfied, Kym slid into the space between me and Larry, then crossed the pool. She sat facing us, letting her head fall back and stretching her arms out along the divider, which afforded us guys an irresistible view of her rack. “You have a wonderful house, Bob. So quiet and private. You and Helen must be very happy here.”

“Those are the benefits of an older neighborhood,” I explained. “The houses in this neighborhood are on much bigger lots than they use nowadays. It’s easy to have quiet when your neighbor’s house is 50 feet away instead of 10. And it’s a lot easier to relax in your back yard when it isn’t butted up against someone else’s front yard.”

“Truly spoken,” Larry chimed in. He and Peg had lived in a flag lot in one of those modern cramped developments for eight years and had the devil of a time getting rid of the place when they couldn’t take it anymore. Anyone who has ever lived in a place where the main view out the front window is someone else’s back window understands how great it is to have some land around your house.

“This pool is unbelievable,” Kym continued. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“Actually, we lucked out,” I said. “The previous owners had it built, and then got transferred and had to sell. There was a major drought that year, and the pool ended up dragging down the sale price instead of holding it up. Upkeep isn’t too bad as long as we keep it covered in the off seasons.”

Larry stirred. “Speaking of homes .”

Peg finished the thought: “. We probably ought to get back to ours. It was great meeting you, Kym.”

Larry and Peg dried off and changed, then we said our goodbyes on the back porch and they left through the gate. When I got back to the pool area Helen and Kym were sitting together in the shallow part looking thick as thieves. “What are you two planning?” I asked with mock suspicion.

“Just a little good clean fun,” Helen answered. “Why don’t you come here and help us up?”

They didn’t need my help to climb out of the pool, but both women were holding up their hands, so I went along with it. Grabbing each by a forearm, I gave them a good strong tug to help them bound out of the pool, once again getting a generous eyeful of glistening wet skin for my trouble.

To my great surprise, the girls didn’t let go of my hands once they were clear of the pool. Instead, they each grabbed me high on the arms and started dragging me backward. I started to protest, backpedaling frantically in an attempt to keep my balance. “What’s going on here? What are you doing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Kym promised. My heels struck a metal object—the foot bar of a chaise lounge. We have a pair of them; big, sturdy pieces of furniture with tubular steel frames and thick cushions of dense foam. Still holding me by the elbows and armpits, the girls hoisted me up easily and set me down on the lounge. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. The girls exchanged a look and then, in perfect unison, reached behind them and pulled out the knots on their bikini tops at the back and the neck. Without hesitation they picked up the upper strings and pulled the tops away from their bodies, leaving me with the very difficult choice of which set of tits to gawk at first. I started with Helen’s but moved quickly to Kym’s since they were a new sight to me. God, were they nice. Teardrop shape, full but in exact proportion to her shoulders and waist, perfect as only nature can do. Both sets of nipples were engorged and standing proud.

While I was sitting passively admiring the display, the girls were busy. Before I knew what was happening, each had wound her bikini top around one of my wrists and tied a quick knot to hold it. They leaned over me together, each one pressing a tit into a side of my face, as they lifted my arms straight up. Suddenly I realized what they were doing—in five seconds flat my hands were securely tied to the top of the chaise lounge’s steel frame. The wet bikini straps worked as well as any twine or cord would have, with the added advantage of keeping me distracted until it was too late to escape. “Hey!” I shouted, but those delicious pillows in my face muffled the sound.

After making sure I couldn’t free my arms, the girls stepped back to the foot of the lounge. Still moving as one, they tugged at the strings on their bikini bottoms, catching them as they tried to fall to the deck. Not saying a word, they each bent over a foot and used the bottoms to secure my ankles to the lounge frame. Once satisfied that I was thoroughly bound, they stopped to admire their handiwork.

Kym nodded approvingly. “Nicely done, Helen.”

“Why thank you, Kym,” my wife answered with exaggerated courtesy. “Is it just me, or is something still wrong with this picture?” They both studied me, looking up and down my body repeatedly. I’d had fantasies about something like this happening, but the reality was frightening. The more they looked, the more afraid I became. I knew Helen wouldn’t do anything to hurt or humiliate me, but Kym was an unknown factor. How far would she go, and would Helen go along?

“I know what it is,” Helen concluded. “He’s overdressed.”

“I believe you’re right.” They each grabbed a leg of my swim trunks and tried to pull them down, but they were wet and tended to cling. The eight-inch trailer hitch in front didn’t help things either. After struggling with them for a minute, Helen had an idea and sprinted back into the house. She emerged again a few seconds later, still stark naked, and held up a long, gleaming pair of sewing scissors. Grinning wickedly, she slid the open scissors up the leg of my trunks, deliberately letting the lower jaw rub against my leg. In three quick strokes she had cut completely through the side seam of my suit, including the elastic waistband.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Helen told me. “You needed new trunks anyway.” She handed the scissors to Kym, who repeated the cut on the other side. Grasping the loose front fabric, they pulled together and the trunks came off as easily as a disposable diaper, releasing my cock to sway in the breeze.

Kym whistled softly and pointed to my cock. “Very impressive, Bob. Why, that looks good enough to eat.”

Eat?

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Helen mused, studying my cock. “It’s been a long time since I’ve tried that, though.”

Kym seemed surprised. “Really? Why?”

“He doesn’t really like it that much,” Helen answered.

“Say what?” I exclaimed.

“Well, you’ve never asked for it,” Helen retorted. “The one time I started to give you head you asked me to stop right away.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but I really had no idea what to say. The truth was I never asked her to go down on me because I knew I wasn’t prepared to do the same for her. I ended up stammering, “Yeah, I did . but . I mean . well . never mind.”

Kym let out an exaggerated laugh. “Well, he’s at our mercy now. Let’s blow his mind wide open, shall we?” Kym’s remark caused a lump to rise in my throat. Then I was startled to recognize that underneath the fear lurked a small but growing sense of anticipation. Was I starting to get off on this?

Helen started forward, but hesitated. “I’m a little rusty,” she admitted tentatively.

“Would you like me to start? Maybe give you some pointers?”

“That would be great!”

“My pleasure.”

Grabbing a nearby towel, Kym folded it neatly and dropped it on the brick floor, using it as a cushion as she knelt down by the side of the chaise lounge. She took on the persona of an X-rated Martha Stewart, addressing Helen in a friendly, professional tone.

“Most of the fun with this dish is in the preparation,” she began. “Here we have an excellent specimen. You can see here that you have plenty of extension,” she continued, running a fingertip up my twitching shaft, “and very impressive thickness.” Wiping her finger on the very tip of my cock, she picked up a drop of oozing fluid and tasted it. “Nice flavor and consistency, too.” Helen was nodding and watching calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have a strange woman playing with her husband’s cock.

“Now how you approach this depends on what you are looking to get out of it,” Kym continued. “If you just want a quick snack you can skip most of the preparation and go straight for the payoff, like this.” Forming her lips into a big O, she rose up and then dove down into my lap, taking about two thirds of my length into her mouth. Her lips closed on the shaft and she sucked hard, stroking the underside of my shaft with her tongue. I let out an involuntary groan as Kym pulled off. “The important thing is to keep your throat relaxed and take it easy,” she instructed. “The more you relax your throat, the more you can take at one time. Why don’t you try it now?”

“Okay.” Putting down a towel as Kym had done, Helen kneeled on the other side of the lounge. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and plunged it down over my rod, getting a little less than half way down.

Kym was ready to provide coaching. “Good, Helen. Now make believe it’s a giant drinking straw sticking out of a milkshake and suck. You have to suck really, really hard to get the ice cream to come through.” Helen was an apt pupil; she sucked fiercely, sending shivers up and down my body. “Very good, Helen, you are a natural at this. Try running your tongue along the bottom a little bit while you work.” Oh my god, she’s doing it I thought, reeling from the sensation. I couldn’t move my limbs much, but my pelvis was free enough to start rising up to meet Helen, a sure sign that I was about to come. Touching my wife on the shoulder, Kym quickly interceded. “That’s enough, Helen. It’s time to learn another important technique—how to keep the juice from squirting out too early. Watch.” Making an ‘OK’ sign with her left hand, she pushed down firmly at the base of my cock and held it there. In a few seconds that any-moment-now feeling subsided and my hips became still again. The girl knows more about dicks than I do, I said to myself. “Why don’t you practice that a couple of times, Helen? Try some more sucking. When you feel his hips flexing or when he starts to twitch, pull off and press down like I did for about ten seconds. If you do it well, it’ll drive him bonkers.”

Helen went down on me again, this time taking me a little deeper into her mouth, and started sucking and running her tongue along my shaft. I felt the tide rising again and so did she, pulling off at the last second and pressing down on the base of my cock the way Kym had, pulling me back from the edge. All I could do was groan in frustration while she repeated the sequence time after time. Somewhere along the line my fear vanished only to be replaced by a raw animal hunger; all of my thought processes shut down while wave after wave of intense sexual pleasure pulsed through me. At first my arms and legs strained against the restraints, but I quickly discovered that every proof of my helplessness only inflamed me more. Eventually I abandoned all resistance and just surrendered to the sweet agony.

“Okay, Helen, I think you’ve mastered that approach. What shall we do next?”

“Hmm,” Helen replied, thinking. “Why don’t you show me the sensitive spots?”

“Certainly,” the younger girl replied. “First, of course, is the top. This whole area here is very sensitive, especially right on the tip.” As she explained, she traced the outline of my throbbing head with a fingertip. “Also along the edges here. There’s a line running down the underside of the stalk, right here, which is also very sensitive.” She wasn’t kidding. More groans escaped my lips as I felt her fingernail raking down the underside of the shaft. “There is a similar but even more sensitive seam right down here, in the middle of the root ball.” I twitched and strained as Kym’s fingernail traced the centerline between my balls, prompting her to press against my groin again to keep me from coming. “Notice how far back that goes, Helen? The further back you touch it, the more sensitive it is. And if you really want to drive him wild, apply just a little bit of pressure right here.”

I’m still not sure what she touched, but I felt it from head to toe. Forget moaning, I howled in ecstasy. This time Kym held her fingers against the base of my rod for almost a full minute, giving me plenty of time to calm down again before Helen took her turn.

“He seems to like this,” Helen observed, watching my face while she traced the edges of my head. “What if I do this?” Making a circle with her thumb and forefinger, she encircled my cock at the head and ran the circle up and down it a couple of times, which brought forth several more gasps from me. “That’s a keeper. Oh, have you tried this one?” Looking up at Kym, Helen started running her fingertips from base to tip the way she does, sending exquisite shivers through my body.

“Very creative,” Kym noted with approval. “Do you mind if I try that one?”

“Please, be my guest.” A few seconds to cool off, and then Kym’s fingernails were dragging across my aching cock. I thought for sure I was going to go into orbit.

“So,” Kym asked, “Would you care to finish him off?”

“Not just yet,” Helen answered. “I want to play with him some more first.”

“Do I get a vote in this?” I interjected. They ignored me.

Kym turned back to Helen. “What’s his specialty?”

Hefting her tits in both hands, Helen answered right away. “Boobs. He’s great with boobs. He can take you to heaven without ever touching you below the waist. Bob, show Kym how well you handle boobs.”

I pulled at my bonds but they still wouldn’t budge. “That’s going to be difficult,” I pointed out. Kym responded by standing up and moving toward the back of the chaise lounge, putting her tit neatly in the palm of my hand. What else could I do? I went to work on the offered tit, squeezing and stroking and frigging the nipple as much as my bonds would allow. I got quite a reaction from Kym. She relaxed and sighed, then started to hum. “Mmmmm . mmmmm . that’s so nice . you are so right, Helen, he really does have great hands.”

“He uses his mouth well too,” Helen added. “Try it.”

Kym leaned over a little more and put a hard, erect nipple into my mouth. I sucked gently and tickled the tip with my tongue while I listened to Kym’s hums turn into soft moans. The smell of her arousal was strong, sweetening every breath I took. I knew I was getting to her, and that knowledge started having an increasingly powerful effect on me. From somewhere behind Kym, I heard Helen’s voice. “I think I’m ready to finish him off now.”

“I’ll get out of your way, then.” With a sense of reluctance, Kym pulled her tit away from my face.

“Nonsense,” Helen corrected. “As you were, please.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kym leaned over me and put her nipple back in my mouth, pulling my head to her with her left hand. Her chest blocked my view of Helen, but when I felt a warm, soft pair of lips close around my cock I knew what she was up to. All I could do was keep sucking and hang on as she ran her tongue up and down the shaft, sending shivers up my spine. Kym pressed me closer and I picked up the pace as I felt my own pulse racing, teasing Kym’s nipple while I sucked harder on her breast. Kym and I were both moaning freely, and I guess Helen would have been too but her mouth was full. My cock, having endured a good half hour or more of repeated teasing by these women, felt like it was four feet long and solid steel. I felt fingers running up and down my balls, tracing the seam, and then suddenly I saw stars. My whole body tensed with the power of the orgasm. I tried to breathe but my mouth was full of Kym’s tit so I ended up sucking even harder, hard enough to make her gasp. Helen’s mouth stayed locked around my twitching shaft, draining me. I zoned out for a few seconds—or maybe it was a few minutes—and came back just in time to see Helen standing over me, wiping her mouth.

“Tasty, too,” she said in her best Lucille Ball voice. “Just like candy.”

I was too exhausted to laugh. Kym laughed enough for both of us, then started walking around me toward Helen. I could see the glint of moisture running down the inside of the girl’s thighs.

“What shall we do next?” Helen asked.

“A little surprise for you, I think.” Kym stood behind Helen, snaked her arms inside of Helen’s and held firm. She placed her mouth near Helen’s right ear and whispered something. Instantly I saw Helen’s eyes go blank and slam shut. Her head fell back onto Kym’s shoulder as the rest of her body sagged. Kym held Helen up and carefully eased her limp body onto the other chaise lounge.

“You look like you’ve had some practice handling unconscious people,” I remarked. Sure, it was lame, but I couldn’t think of anything better.

“Just a bit,” she agreed. There was an extra sway in her hips as she approached me again. Something about that sway, and the way she had rendered Helen unconscious with just a word, brought my cock back to life.

“What happens now?” I asked nervously, knowing she could do anything she wanted to with me, part of me hoping she would.

For answer, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, then whispered something that put my lights out. The last sensation I remember was the feel of something wet, warm, and strong pressing down over my cock.

When I opened my eyes again, Kym was gone. Helen was still asleep in the other lounge. My hands and feet were free. The two bikinis had been left on a patio table between the chairs, but the white cover-up and boat shoes were gone. Looking at the bikinis gave me an idea.

“Wake up, Helen.”

My wife’s eyes fluttered open and focused slowly on my face. She noticed right away that her arms were up over her head and tried to put them down. It only took her a second to realize why they wouldn’t move.

“You didn’t!”

“Of course I did. Turnabout is fair play.”

Grimacing, Helen pulled hard trying to slip out of the bonds. I’d taken the precaution of wetting the bikini parts before using them again, though, so they were not about to slide by. Trying her level best to project calm, she looked right at me and said, “Okay, you’ve made your point. Now let me go.”

“Sure thing,” I replied with an evil glint in my eye. “But let’s have a little fun first, shall we?” Helen strained against the bonds again, which put a really nice arc in her back; her tits stood out beautifully, just begging to be handled. The nipples were already hard, too. I grabbed one tit in each hand and just gave a good squeeze. Helen threw her head back and groaned.

“Do you want me to stop?” I teased, squeezing them again.

“No . No . NOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Can I really send you to heaven without touching you below the waist?”

“Yes .” she gasped. I gave her a few more squeezes, then rolled the nipples between my fingers. “Yes . YES . YOU’RE DOING IT . NOWWWW!” Her whole body tensed and tried to rise off the chaise lounge as she climaxed; I thought for a second that she might hurt herself and made a move toward the bonds on her wrists. Helen saw me and breathed out, “No . it’s okay . don’t .” She was still riding the tail end of her orgasm. Finally her body relaxed, although she continued to breathe heavily.

“Was that good?” I asked, gently stroking her body with my hand. She was too out of breath to answer, but she did give me a blissful nod. “Let’s see what else we can do.”

Moving to the foot end of the lounge, I parted Helen’s legs and nudged them aside. I hadn’t tied her at the ankles, only the wrists, but her body was so spent she made no effort to stop me. I crawled forward into position, stalking my prey. At just above the knee, I started planting little kisses on the inside of her left leg, working my way up the thigh. Each kiss got me a moan from Helen, and as I moved higher she opened her legs more to make room for me.

For the third time that week I had my face within striking distance of Helen’s pussy. This time I felt no uncertainty, no reluctance. She was already dripping in juices; I swabbed some up with my finger and tasted it. The taste and the smell combined to get me seriously aroused. Pushing my face further into the sweetness, I traced the outer edges of her slit with my tongue and felt Helen shudder and gasp. I changed directions and got the same reaction. Emboldened, I started working the inner lips, then turned my attention to the middle. Putting my tongue between the inner lips, I worked straight down until I felt the little nub I was looking for. The second I touched it Helen howled with delight; I felt her powerful thighs tightening around my head. My tongue started circling the button and Helen went over the edge into another full-body orgasm. I held on for the ride, trying to keep my tongue on the button, continuing to stimulate her. I wanted to see how long we could keep it up. At some point I became dimly aware that I was having another orgasm myself, shooting semen all over the vinyl cushion.

An eternity later, I finally pulled back and let Helen come back to Earth. She clenched and released a few more times and then crumpled. She was barely conscious of me as I untied her wrists and massaged the chafed areas.

I picked up a damp towel to clean my face and a small plastic bottle fell off the table. It was sunscreen, SPF 50, but it wasn’t our brand. Left nothing to chance, did you Kym? I thought.

We retired to the house for a good long nap and had leftover party food for dinner. After dinner we watched the Madeline tape one last time, sitting naked on the sofa. When it was over we just sat there and cuddled, amazed to find ourselves so comfortable with the bizarre events of the day.