The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With a confident smile on my face, I slid into the dimly lit club. Hidden amongst the regular establishments, down an unmarked alleyway, and past the discolored sandstone archway was a plain door. What exactly was behind that particular door was one of Cairo’s best secrets. A nightclub, where denizens who embraced the more pure, darker side of human nature would gather, to drink, socialize, and find the more interesting sort of people that you couldn’t meet in everyday society. While there wasn’t any ‘official’ name to the club, most insiders’s tended to call it ‘Bast’s Paradise’, or ‘The Closed Club’. This was the start of it all.

My thin hands ran down the soft swell of my breasts, across the trim stomach I’d trained into firm submission, and to my thighs. Just past the hem of my short black skirt, I felt the smooth silky embrace of my stockings, and I reveled in it. I knew I looked good. I knew I looked hot. But my prey was very particular. The question wasn’t a matter of looking hot. The question was would I draw her attention? Then the next question was would I draw it the right way? I knew what I was doing was dangerous, but I also knew I had little choice.

Pushing past the heavy oak door, I greeted the doorkeeper with a sensual smile. His muscular bulk moved, stepped in front of the archway into the club, and he crossed his arms, looking down at me. Lightly, I brushed my fingertips down his bulky chest, and gave him a little girlish, sensual smile. “You will let me in, won’t you?” I purred, softly. My slim body slid against his, and I savored the feel of my silk-wrapped legs as the slid down against the back of his.

I have to give him credit; he wasn’t as easily swayed from his post, as most would be. He gave me a faint, bare smile, but otherwise stayed between the door well and I. “I don’t have you on my list,” he said, simply, quietly. “You’re going to have to leave.”

I pouted, slightly, and withdrew from him. “Are you sure?” I asked, quietly, tilting my head. His posture stiffened; as if he saw the grin I was keeping within, hoping that he would give the answer he did.

“No one gets in, without explicit permission. And you don’t have it,” he said, simply.

Lightly, I touched his forehead with a harmless gesture. The pout on my face turned to a sultry grin of utter confidence, and I withdrew my fingertip. He groaned, the bulge in his pants confirming that my work was indeed successful. Few could resist what I gave them.

Unlike Him, my touch wouldn’t last more than a minute, or two. But, it would last long enough. Smirking, I folded my slender arms beneath my breasts, enhancing them, my nipples poking out of the thin black fabric that contained them. Watching me, he fell back, onto the floor, a small spot of wetness appearing on his hips, as he merely groaned, and shifted, unable to think, unable to do, unable to do anything but orgasm, over, and over again, his glossy eyes fixated on me.

He could only groan again, a soft mewl of protest from the huge, bulking muscular man, as this little one sauntered past him, into the club. I had attitude. Everything was going as planned. Alright, girl. You’re in. Now for the really exciting part.

Squinting my eyes, I easily found my prey. I felt my pussy twitch, in anticipation. The silk encasing my legs caused them to ache to be touched, licked, fondled, and my nipples stiffened, their hard points pushing through the single layer of silken fabric of my dress, as soon as I saw her.

She was singing. It wasn’t just notes, it wasn’t just perfect pitch, and emotion. It was—something else. Pure.

I felt my pussy twitch again, and I suspected that if I didn’t sit down, my legs would give out under me. Only one table was unoccupied, and I moved to sit in it. I didn’t, or couldn’t, notice if anyone in the club was watching me or not; I was transfixed.

I thought I was hot. She was scalding. Long, flowing black hair lay down across her back, down to the middle of her back, glistening off what little light there was in the club. She wore a one piece snow-white dress that only was fastened at the front of her waist, and at the top of her breasts, a diamond shape cut into the front showing off her intoxicating dark skin, and flatness of her stomach, even the almost hypnotic gold glitter of the ring in her navel. The dress only covered her nipples, the undersides and curves of her succulent breasts displayed openly, eye bait for anyone who saw them. The thin white fabric flared like a billowing cloak around her bare shapely dark legs, and her feet were encased in matching white sandals, wrapped around, and around her perfectly arched ankles. Made for kissing. I could see why I’d been sent here. Anyone else would have already given in, crawling to her in desperate need.

I wasn’t just twitching, now. I was dripping. Aching. I could smell my own musk, and it just made me even headier. I didn’t care if anyone else around me noticed or not.

She was singing.

Floating. Hot. Aching. Twitching. Fucktoy. Animal lust. Mate.

I concentrated, and closed my eyes, breathing rapidly, though the heady rush was still swamping my thoughts. A soft moan beside me caused me to turn, and I saw a young woman, dressed in simple white robes laying back on a table, her fingers were stroking her engorged clit, and delving into her shaven snatch. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and it almost seemed I felt as she did. My toes curled, as hers did, and my chest thrust out, as her own did. I...

Scalding. Fuckable. Dripping. Show her. Let it seep through the dress. Worship.

Again, I shook my head out of the reverie, and re-focused. The growing need passed, though what desire had been planted there was now there, and needed sating. I swallowed, and realized that she’d stopped singing for a good few minutes, and she now sat in the chair across from me.

Watching me.

But I’d seen that trick before. Stealing time was easy. I felt my confidence surge. We were playing in familiar waters, now.

Then her silken voice wrapped around me, like warm blankets. Intoxicated, like honey-wine. “You’re new,” she purred.

My cunt twitched. “N-new?” I asked, becoming unsure again. Still heady. God I wanted her to-

She smiled, quietly, as if reading my thoughts, her bare foot slid over my calf. I almost came, right there. I was shocked, horrified, by my own sudden weakness. And so hot.

“I’ve not seen you before,” she slurred, softly, her eyes hidden in the darkness. “How did you get in?” She asked, curiously. She sounded more amused, then mad.

How did I get in? I blinked, and remembered why it was I came here. Flushing brightly, I couldn’t believe I’d been so easily taken in, especially as how well prepared He’d made me. Summoning that strength He’d taught me, I was suddenly free. But I still ached.

She didn’t seem to notice. I breathed again, heavy, “I bribed your guard,” I managed, trying to get some strength back in my voice. I hoped she wouldn’t notice what she’d done to me. But I knew she knew. And I could hear the soft moans of the other women around us masturbating, twitching against the tables. And I knew she knew that in the back of my mind, right now I wished more than anything I could be one of them too.

A soft sensual hand moved to touch my cheek. She smiled quietly. “What’s you’re name, young one?” I swallowed, as her foot crept up my lower thigh. Musk was heavy in the air, and at that moment, I thought it was all mine.

“Lena,” I mewled back, trying not to squirm. I had to hold my ground. I bit my lower lip, as I realized how needy I’d sounded. So much like the bouncer I’d reduced to mind-fucked bliss, so recently. Please mindfuck me. Please fuck me.

I shook my head again, clearing the loosened webs from my mind. I lost my breath, as her bare foot pressed against my sopping cunt. I swear I heard it squish, as she did. Animal instinct took over, and I arched into the pressure, needfully. My lust was fighting for control, over my training.

Her voice was like the sound of an angelic musical instrument, beautiful, terrible, and compelling. “Would you like to keep coming to my club, Lena?”

It was such an easy question. She arched her foot into my heat, ... my heat? I felt so much like a dog at the moment, an animal. Only He’d made me feel that way before never another—especially not a woman. A bitch in pure heat. “Oh, yes,” I slurred back, my eyes rolling back, trying to remember the task at hand.

“Then your name isn’t Lena, anymore,” she told me, as easily and as simply as if she was telling me the sky was blue.

Offended to the core, “My name is Lena,” as I arched against her foot, so openly. I knew the others were watching us, and my cunt wasn’t the only part of me that was on fire. But that just made it so much more erotic. It spurned me on.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, withdrawing her foot slightly. Her honeydew voice took on a soft, almost reprimanding tone. “Your name is Lassie. My pretty little bitch in heat.”

I opened my mouth to tell her exactly how small a chance of making that sound compelling, but instead of a quick comeback, I moaned, quietly, in soft protest, but I knew it was useless, now.

“Aren’t you?” She lifted her chin with a sharp upward nod of an inch, like a signal she expected me to know.

I barked, and thrust at her foot again. She smiled, approvingly, and pushed against my need again. “Very good, Lassie,” she purred, and I felt a wave of small pleasure wash over my addled mind.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen here. Something was wrong. My cunt twitched again, violently in response to my fight against my own mind. I had training. I had trained. I summoned my mouth to tell her to stop touching me. I summoned my strength, ready to deal with her like I had the bouncer.

She signaled me again with her chin.

I barked again, and came, like I only had cum with Him before. I was so fucking hot. She was scalding. She had set me on fire, and settled back to watch me burn down like a house of summer-dried wood.

When I woke up, I heard hushed, gasped noises about me. Arabic voices buzzed with an undertone of outrage and excitement.

I focused my eyes, and saw through the glassy haze of a window people pointing in mixed emotions. Disbelief, humor, and disgust. My body was cold, and suddenly I realized I was naked; and felt the warm lick of a puppy against my bare leg.

Where was I?! That bitch. I’d pay her back. In more ways than one. As I moved to stand, to get out of that place I was held in place by the collar and leash she’d so kindly tied me up with.

Outside the glass, toothless men pointed and began to laugh. I saw my faint reflection in the dirty glass. Nude. My belly pierced with a golden loop. Heavy leather collar in a color that matched my eyes. My hair had been pulled and bound into twin floppy ‘ears’ on the sides of my head. My ass clenched, tight, around something, and I turned to the side, to note that a fitted butt plug had been pushed in, a collie’s tail jutting out from my rear.

Fuming, and burning with hatred, humiliation, and ... I denied myself that my cunt was heatedly twitching ... I untied the leash. I had to get out of there. I had to get somewhere safe. I had to ... No! You’re stronger than that! I scolded myself.

My anger wouldn’t be sated by the run. I pushed past the door of the empty shop I’d been dumped in. Sweltering heat lit my face afire, from the anger, and my current situation as I pushed past the mob of men and women. Rough, unknown hands groped my skin, my breasts. Tugged on my tail. My legs buckled, and I almost came right there.

My mind swarmed, and I knew that if I was ever going to recapture myself, I had to get back to the hotel. He certainly wouldn’t come to save a little bitch in heat like me. Oh, God. The warm moistness of a small little dribble trickled down my bare thigh, as I ducked into an alleyway, a group of men close behind. It wasn’t hard to guess their intentions.

I opened my mouth, to warn them off, and only grew more infuriated when all that came out was a loud, “Woof!” My knees buckeled again as another orgasm rippled through my mind, my body, and I whimpered helplessly. They took it as an invitation to advance. Only with the greatest control did I keep my trembling hands from my newly shaven cunt.

I closed my eyes, and concentrated. It was my only hope. The first man that came upon me I grabbed, fiercely with my hand. The demonstration was effective enough. His friends watched him bucking to the ground in orgasmic, inhuman bliss, and turned and ran. Stealing his robe, I put it about myself. I took several slow breaths. I shook the cobwebs from my head. I’d underestimated my prey, and now I was paying for it.

Slowly, calculatingly, each step purposefull, I made my way back to my room, forcing my thoughts away from the instincts she’d driven into my loins.

Once there, on the pillow, I found a note.

‘Go home, Lassie’

Hissing, I crumpled it up, and tossed it in the trash. The longing in my loins was slowly burning away, my anger, my frustration, my hatred replacing it. Taking the necessary precautions, I secured the line, and made a call.

When the other end picked up, I spoke, the rage clearly present in my voice.

“I’ve met her.”

The low chuckle on the other end infuriated me even more. “I know. You were quite entertaining, child,” He mused quietly. “She broke your defenses rather easily. You were over-confident. Though I must admit, I am rather impressed with your canine impersonations. Commendable.”

My anger boiled over. “I know she did,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

The other voice paused, calculating, “Perhaps I should send another to handle this. One more—capable?”

My anger quelled, somewhat. I knew if I was brought back, or didn’t handle this, I wouldn’t get another chance to get out for quite awhile. And I’d be worse off than before. Gathering my strength, I calmed, and said stiffly, “She just caught me off guard. Next time she won’t. I’ll have her right where we want her.”

There was silence.

I didn’t know what else to say. But the quiet was too discomforting, “I swear it to you, “I said, finally.

Still, bleak, and utter silence. I could hear a soft female moan in the background. I knew He was listening. It only infuriated more, because I recognized that soft moan, and I knew exactly what was taking place.

Clenching my fist, I swore to myself, then said into the phone, “I’ll be her damned Lassie, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Fine. You didn’t tell me it was going to be like this, though, you prick.”

I gasped, as suddenly I was alone. My connection was gone, pulled, violently and harshly. I collapsed, my stomach suddenly twisting, and wrenching. I felt violently ill. That bastard. I wasn’t floating, any longer. I was falling.

Empty. Blackness. Plummeting. Sick. Alone. Cold. Fruitless. Scared. Desperate.

Weakly, I pulled myself back to the phone, trembling. The cruel voice on the phone mused, “Is that anyway to talk to your father?”

Gulping, I shook my head, “N-no,” she answered, quickly. I needed.

“Is that anyway to talk to your Master?”

“N-no,” I sniffed.

“Then grow up. And learn to handle this on your own. And maybe, just maybe,” he said, stiffly, “I might let you have another taste, ... if you are convincing. Remember, child. I will be watching.”

I shuddered, even as I balled my fist, and heard the click of the phone. I’d handle it, all right.

I sank back on the bed, and felt a sharp push against my backside. Reaching back behind, my face burned as I realized the tail was still there. My fury had masked the physical sensation in my ass. My cunt was still sopping from this morning. My musk was like a beacon to my mindfucked head. It twitched, as I pulled the silken fibers of the tail around, to soak it up. I couldn’t help myself.

That seemed right and wrong, all at once. I simmered in anger at His last calculated handling of me. Even realizing that the livid shame was still distracting me, I was shocked to catch my fingers massaging my sex.

I couldn’t help myself. I pulled the tail tighter between my legs. It wedged its furry length in my sopping snatch. I wasn’t just hot. I was scalding...