The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Little Billy Jensen tried to ignore his parents as they walked off into the mall. He attempted to put them out of mind, but being a little kid, he was far too caught up in Mom and Dad’s world not to notice the constant bickering.

They’d been fighting all the time lately. Each seemed to have something bad to say about the other and Billy was feeling caught in the middle. He turned and watched the line of children winding up to Santa. He smiled back at his big brother Calvin.

At least Calvin looked out for him. He was always there to watch Billy when the parents were fighting. And they fought battles in the past few months. Being just a kid, Billy wasn’t sure just what the main problems were, only that they seemed to involve his mother more than his father. He’d gleamed that much from overhearing conversations Daddy had with Calvin. Whatever the case was, Billy wished they’d just get along. It was supposed to be a fun time of year, not a sad one.

As the line progressed, Billy slowly forgot about his parents and their problems. They were off somewhere in the mall and he was here to have fun, not think bad thoughts. Santa knew if little boys were thinking bad thoughts. He’d been assured of that by everyone. He just hoped Santa wouldn’t detect anything when he finally got up to his lap.

“HO, HO, HO!” Santa shouted, nearly frightening Billy with the intensity. “Come on up here little boy.”

Billy made his way nervously up the red carpet path, passing the two friendly looking elves. Now that he’d finally reached this moment, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. He stood on wobbly legs, lip quivering as he stared up at the menacing large man in the red suit. He almost turned and fled when the unexpected happened.

“Don’t be afraid Billy. Come on up, tell Santa what you want.”

Billy wasn’t a baby anymore. He knew that Santa Claus in malls was probably only his helpers, not the real deal. But this was the first one to ever guess his name correctly before he even got up to him. How did he know that?

“Come on, Billy. It’s alright. You’ve been having a rough year at home huh?” Santa said. He patted his knee.

“Um... yes sir.” Billy said. He lowered his eyes, realizing he must not have been hiding his thoughts enough. Santa probably knew everything. Trudging up to Santa’s knees, Billy looked up just in time to see large arms grabbing him and swooshing him up into the man’s lap.

“Billy, this is a cheerful time of year, a time for smiles, not frowns. Now, why don’t you tell me what all you’d like this Christmas?”

Billy let the overly jolly man cheer him up. He happily shared the many toys and games he wanted, the video games, even the big boy bicycle he’d been dreaming about. Everything was going great until he was getting ready to leave. He’d said his pitch, asked for all he could want. Then Santa leaned down close, a twinkle flashing from the darks of his eyes.

“Tell me, Billy. What is it that makes you so sad inside?”

Billy wasn’t even sure why he did it, why he opened his mouth and what came out came out. But he did, and it felt good to get it all out.

“Mommy and Daddy are always fighting. They get really loud sometimes and I don’t sleep that well.”

Santa looked out at the crowd, then down at Billy. “They aren’t here?”

Billy looked out and found his brother. “Nope, they went off to shop I think, but they were mostly just fighting.”

“That’s sad to hear, Billy. It really is. Do you know why they fight?”

Billy looked down at his feet, kicking them slightly as he slumped on Santa’s leg. “Yeah... I think so. Daddy says Mommy has a smart mouth. Says that’s what messes everything up.”

Santa rubbed a dark-gloved finger under Billy’s chin and lifted it to face him. He smiled. “Billy, this is the time of magic and wonder. So I’m going to offer you one wish, but only for someone else in your family. Just tell me what that wish is. After all, you’ve been a very good boy this year.”

Santa’s cheeks were flushed, rosy red and friendly. Billy knew somehow, he just knew, that this wasn’t one of the helpers. This was the real deal. He thought about his family, about what he could wish for. Then he grinned.

“I wish Mommy didn’t have such a smart mouth. That way she’d get along and be friendly to Daddy.”

Santa lifted Billy up and sat him on the floor, looking down at him. “Good boy, Billy. That was a very unselfish wish. Now run off and play with your brother. By the time you see your mommy next, I promise you her smart mouth will be long gone.”

Billy grinned from ear to ear. He felt a warmth inside him as bright as the season was meant to be. He waved and ran off to find Calvin.

Elsewhere in the Mall

“Cammie, come on, give it a rest. I picked the kids up on time. You can lay off.”

“Dale, I told you picking them up on time once doesn’t make you father of the year. They just...”

Dale rolled his eyes, trying to find somewhere in this store to focus that wasn’t reminding him he was in a lingerie shop. There was a strange silence that actually soothed what had been a building headache. He looked over at his wife.

“They just what?” He asked.

Cammie was holding up a bra, simply staring at it. She blinked and looked over at Dale. “They just need... more... attention from their father.” She nearly whispered.

Dale was about to ask if something else was wrong, a question he had beaten into his brain was stupid stupid stupid when it concerned Cammie, but one which at the moment was all he could think of. Before he could speak, she turned, holding the bra up against her blouse.

“Like whadaya think of this?” Cammie asked, giggling.

Dale took a moment, just knowing this was a trick. It was a trick. It had to be. There was another argument just waiting to be had here.

“Umm... fine?” He questioned.

Cammie giggled again, and this time he was sure it was in fact a giggle. He almost managed to convince himself the first time it was a figment of his imagination. But no, here was Cammie Jensen, smart-mouthed independent woman, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Silly, like tell me what you think.”

Dale looked around, wondering where the hidden camera was. Three weeks had gone by since he and his wife weren’t arguing about something, even longer since she asked his opinion on anything, and much longer since she gave him the smile she was giving him now. Something was up.

Cammie looked at the bra, furrowed her brow, and then dropped it. “What the hell am I doing?”

There’s the old Cammie, Dale thought.

She looked over at him. Her eyes flared. “You, you son-of-a...” The words simply left her throat.

Dale was all prepared for some onslaught of new degrading terms, some names, some bitching, but the words seemed to evaporate off her tongue. And was he crazy or did more than that seem to evaporate? He watched his wife closely, her eyes growing wide, mouth dropping, just the least bit of drool forming near her lips.

“Cammie? Are you okay?”

She looked up, grinned, and came running right at him. Dale cowered a bit, preparing to be slapped. He wondered if the owner at the back of the shop could protect him from a mad woman, whether his wife might be slipping off the deep end of the holiday craziness.

“Honeeeeeeey, sweetie pie!” Cammie sighed as she hugged him. Dale pulled back, giving her a look like none before. Something was up. It was definitely up.

Cammie stroked her arms over his shoulders, rubbing his muscles and giggling. She leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek, then bit lightly at his lip. As she pulled away, he looked around, again knowing someone was pranking him.

“Cammie, seriously, what is with you today?”

Cammie looked him in the eyes, then frowned. “I’m not like pretty for you?” She looked around, saw the discarded bra. She was on it in a flash, turning and looking at Dale. “Would this look good on me?

And with that, Dale watched his wife do something he hadn’t seen her do in more than ten years, and even back then it was after a ton of drinks and nowhere near as effective as what she did now. Cammie grabbed her top and lifted it up, holding the blouse so it blocked her face but presented her rather stupendous looking rack quite well.

“So, whadaya think?” She mumbled from behind the shirt.

Dale simply stared at his wife’s tits. He’d almost forgotten she had such large natural wonders. Of course it wasn’t as though he got to enjoy them much anymore. He looked around, this time only making sure he wasn’t being watched. Then he walked forward and boldly placed a hand right on her tits. He pressed in, moving his fingers right down the line of cleavage her bra created. He felt her up, squeezing one then the other, momentarily losing himself.

“Mmm... feels like you think it would look better off me, huh?” Cammie said from behind her held up blouse.

“Fuck yeah.” Dale muttered, no longer thinking about what was causing this rapid mood shift. Then he heard a familiar gasp. And it wasn’t a happy one.

The blouse snapped back down, his hands caught up under it. The eyes looking out from his wife’s face were anything but friendly. “You fucking ass. What kind of slut do you think I am, feeling me up like that?”

“I, but... you, I mean... we were...” Dale stammered, yanking his hands back before she crushed them in her suddenly flailing arms.

“You stupid sexist pig! That’s all I am to you right? I’m just a fucking slut you wanna...”

Again, Cammie’s voice simply faded, the words trailing off into silence. Dale lowered his arms from the defensive stance he’d quickly taken up. He studied Cammie for a moment. Her eyes seemed rather vapid, almost blank. It was as though she were there, but not all there, as though the steam he’d seen coming from her ears had been literally steam and her mind was vanishing with it. The thought actually made him smile for a moment. She always was such a smart mouth. Maybe her being a stupid little bimbo would be fun.

But then that was a fantasy. Something seemed actually wrong with her, and he shouldn’t be fantasizing about anything else.

“Honey, um... Cammie. You there?” He asked.

She shook her head, the very motion making her long dark hair shake out and look somewhat like a shampoo model. “Oh yeah, like I’m here. Was just thinking about things.”

Dale noted the rather giggly quality in her voice. It seemed much different. But more than just that seemed different. She even seemed to have her posture held more firmly, more thrusting of her chest out, a slight cock to her hips. It gave her a very air-headed quality that he momentarily found himself enjoying.

“Thinking about what?” He asked, stepping in front of her, looking around again, and then sliding his hands right back up her shirt.

He grinned, feeling her bra separate as his fingers crawled underneath. He twisted her nipples, pinching and prodding as she answered his question as though nothing unusual were happening.

“Like thinking is sooooo hard, but I was thinking about fucking.” She giggled. The very movement of her chest as she laughed made Dale only grope her more. He’d given up on what was causing these lapses in his wife’s angry nature. He just thought he’d enjoy it while he could. “Isn’t fucking like totally fun and stuff?” She added.

Dale pulled her bra up, so her tits hung freely inside her blouse. He squeezed each one, making little milking motions as he swallowed the nipples in his palms. He loved this, always had. The years had been very kind to her body, even if her body had been less than kind to him recently. Looking up to her face, he noticed her eyes were closed.

“Honey, fucking is very fun. You know that.” Dale said.

Her eyes snapped open and there was anger and intelligence once again in every corner. She looked down, raised her hands and clenched them into fists. Slapping his hands away, Cammie nearly growled.

“You fucking bastard. What the hell? I’m not some stupid little bimbo slut you can just cop feels of whenever you like. Dammit Dale. I’m gonna...”

And again it happened. This time Dale could see it. He could see how it worked. Her anger was burning, and yet as it burned, the fuel seemed to be something inside her mind. Something was being used up quicker each time the fuse got lit. Cammie was simplifying with each outburst, her eyes becoming clearer, duller, yet somewhat sexier. She was becoming dumb, he thought.

“Cammie?” He asked. He waved a hand in front of her face. “What are you gonna do?” He asked.

The brunette blinked a few time, looked around, then bit her bottom lip smiling. “I’m gonna let you fuck my brains out!”

She was on him like a cheap whore, clawing at his clothing, reaching hands down inside his pants. Dale had never seen his wife this way, never even dared to imagine her this way. He quickly pulled her to him, reaching beneath her top and finding her already loosened bra. In no time that bra was on the floor. He kicked it aside and walked her over to some nearby changing rooms.

“Fuck me,” Cammie moaned. “Like fuck me stupid!” She giggled uncontrollably.

This time Dale was positive. Something indeed was up, and it was his cock. Had been years since it was this ‘up’ and he wasn’t gonna waste it. His wife spontaneously became a raving slutty bimbo, he planned on living the fantasy out.

In short time, Cammie had lost her panties and was propped up against one wall of the changing room. Dale was behind her plugging away at her tight cunt like it was a nail and he had the hammer. He grabbed Cammie’s tits, squeezing hard, squishing them up and down with every frantic lunge inside her body. He’d never fucked his wife so hard, so deep, or so animal-like. He was mad with lust, and she seemed equally so.

“Oooh... ohhh Daleeee! Oh! Fuck me harder. Fuck my silly brains out!” Cammie screamed, her voice high and more simple sounding than ever before.

Dale couldn’t get enough of this. Here was his smart intelligent wife, the woman who assured him early on just how grateful she was not to be a blonde. And she was acting like the most horny bimbo he’d ever imagined.

“Ohhhh... unghhh...” Dale grunted, grabbing Cammie, fucking into her hard, and filling her pussy with cum. He just kept on cumming, every thought about what they were doing and where making him almost harder as he stuffed his wife with drippy sperm.

Cammie giggled a little, moaned a lot, and lowered her head against the wall. Dale was still holding himself inside her, feeling her cunt grip him in an orgasm that continued pulsating through her core. He breathed heavy, listening to her sighs and giggles. He wasn’t certain it was the Christmas spirit, but something got into Cammie, and he’d just stuffed her stocking.

A little while later, Dale walked arm in arm with Cammie through the mall. They had to get back to the boys. Billy had probably seen Santa by now. The thick crowd of the mall meant people were shoulder to shoulder, pressed up tight in places.

Every now and then, Dale reached up and grabbed hold of Cammie’s tits, giving her a little twist just to remind her who owned her pussy. He loved her as a bimbo. And what came out of her mouth was so much dumber than what used to.

He had to stop and explain the escalators to her midway through the mall. Cammie was still convinced the stairs worked by magic. He also had to stop in the restrooms before reaching the end where Santa was. Cammie accompanied him inside.

For one last fleeting moment the old Cammie returned, shouting as Dale tried to shove her face down on his cock. Of course soon enough her eyes were blankly and greedily looking up at him as she bobbed up and down like a porn star. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. He only hoped the boys wouldn’t mind playing outside for awhile when they got home. Dale realized he had much more giving to bestow on his dim little wife. In fact, he imagined he’d decorate her from head to foot in something white. Maybe it wouldn’t be snow, but hey, it would look seasonal.

When Dale and Cammie finally met the boys, Billy ran up and hugged him. He looked from the smiling face of his dad to the rather tired but grinning expression on his mom’s. “It came true!”

“What came true?” Dale asked.

Calvin shrugged and little Billy just opened his mouth wide, smiling so that all his big boy teeth coming in could be seen. “Nothing Daddy. Just something Santa told me.”

Dale nodded and the four of them began heading to the car. It wasn’t until halfway across the parking lot that Dale blushed a little. His sons both spotted something that could have been rather embarrassing.

“Mom, you got something on the corner of your lip.” Calvin said.

Cammie giggled and flicked her tongue out. “Yummy.” She said, taking in a glob of cum which had escaped.

Before Dale could even speak up, Billy was pointing at his Mommy’s leg. “Gooey!” He said, laughing.

Sure enough cum was running down Cammie’s thighs and showing the beginnings of a trail. Dale quickly coughed. “Um. Yes, your mother and I stopped at the Cinnamon Shack. I guess she was a messy eater.”

Apparently both kids bought the excuse but Dale couldn’t help but get turned on knowing they’d each inadvertently seen what a slutty bimbo Cammie had become. He grinned the whole drive home, imagining how much more they’d be visiting the metaphorical Cinnamon Shack.