The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We went to Crossfire, just like we do every Friday. The place to chill, unwind, dress in latex and lace, and people-watch. Or people-interact, if you felt like it. I wasn’t feeling like it. I wanted to sit at our usual booth in the corner closest to the entrance, to drink a few gin and tonics, then go home and masturbate to fantasies of the most gorgeous girls at the bars.

I suppose that’s the problem with preferring VR domination to RL relationships – not going home with pretty girls. No, the real root of the problem, since I’m being honest here, is that I just don’t trust myself.

Mike, on the other hand. Well, he’s not my type and I’m not his, therefore he’s safe. Plus he’s funny, intelligent, cute enough to get the straight girls looking our way occasionally (brown tousled curls, dark soulful boyish eyes with crinkles at the corners, tall and thin without looking underfed, I could go on if you really wanted me to) but not so desperate to go home with a guy that he would abandon me for another pretty face.

Tonight didn’t seem all that different: usual table, usual drinks, usual light banter between the two of us. Until Mr. Right walked in the door and Mike stopped mid-sentence just to stare in adoration. I glanced up at the guy. Blond, closely shaved head. Reminded me of whats-his-name in “Trainspotting.” “Too bad he’s straight,” I thought to myself. Mike didn’t seem to care which way the man was bent, just interested in soaking him up.

Mr. Right headed to the bar, ordered a drink, and propped a cowboy-booted foot on the rail while he waited. My initial impression proved right, he was checking out the girls and, by the look of it, he and I had similar tastes. I heard Mike sigh and I turned to him with a sympathetic face.

“All the good ones are taken or straight. I’m never going to find my own boyfriend, am I?”

“I don’t know about that, sweets. You’ve been lucky in finding boyfriends so far. It’s just that you’ve had to toss them all back. You’ve got high standards.”

“There’s no way I’d toss that guy back into the dating pool if he were gay.”

“You’ve seen him for a few moments, haven’t even talked to the guy, and you’re head over heels! Let me get you another drink while I think of a suitable way to sympathise with you,” I said wryly as I slid out of my seat. I sauntered over to the bar, stood next to Mr. Right For Mike, and ordered another round of gin and tonics.

“Sapphire, please, extra lime,” I added.

“Another gin drinker,” mused a deep mellow voice. I favored my quarry with a slight smile and a nod, then turned back to watch the bartender. Can’t look too interested, I told myself. Every straight guy likes a chase, right?

“Who you drinking with?” he asked.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t the type to like a chase. I turned toward him a little more, trying to think of how to flirt with a guy. I mean, I watch these girls do it all the time, right? I should be able to do it. So I smiled as innocently as I could and only glanced into his eyes for a moment before looking at the bartop.

“Just my friend, Mike.”

The bartender came back with three gin and tonics. Mr. Right picked up the third and raised his glass to me, “To urban tastes,” he said. “What the hell does that mean,” I thought, but pretended to be impressed, letting his glass clink against mine.

“Care to join us? It isn’t often I get to sit with two cute guys,” I simpered, trying not to puke. But his eyes lit up. He followed behind while I tried signalling to Mike, “Behave! I caught him for you, now you get to take over.” I don’t think Mike understood what I was trying to say and his eyes looked like, “Bitch! You’re fucking gay and you’re picking up a straight guy! What the fuck?”

“Mike, this is, uh,” I turned to Mr Right.

“Hi, Mike, I’m Alex,” he said smoothly, holding out his hand. Mike shook it.

“Hi, Alex. Uh, have a seat,” Mike managed to mumble. Alex sat between us and I took one sip of my fresh drink before I excused myself to the Lady’s room. I try to avoid the bathroom after I accidentally made two straight girls suck and lick my nipples while they explored each other’s cunts with their fingers. I mean, I was drunk. It wasn’t my fault!

Okay, it was. I should know better than to go beyond my two drink maximum, but that was after Mallory broke up with me online and I was really pissed and you know how easy it is to think you can drown your sorrows in alcohol and sex slaves. And anyway, I erased their memories and everything so it’s like it didn’t happen, right? Well, I know, it’s not right. That’s why I feel bad and try to avoid the bathroom. It’s too easy to let myself lose control there with the girls so vulnerable in those bathroom stalls, underwear down around their ankles (if they’re wearing any) and adjusting their faces in the mirror. The way they look at themselves just screams, “Dominate me so I know I’m an okay person and people want me!”

Ahem. So, anyway, I ostensibly left in order to let Mike and Alex get to know each other a little better. Alex would find out Mike was gay because that’s usually the first sentence to come out of Mike’s mouth, even when his mother took him to last year’s Southern Baptist chicken bar-b-que. Then Alex will think it’s okay to hit on me. Then what?

I looked at myself in the mirror above the sinks. Black hair in a bob with straight bangs, no-rim tiny glasses, black lace choker above a black latex bustier. My black lipstick and eyeliner didn’t need any fixing up. I didn’t really stand out this evening, compared to what other women were wearing, but it was a domme outfit, so Alex should know at least what position I like to take even if he couldn’t tell what kind of partner I like to have under me. Which led me to believe that he was at least curious about subbing. I arched an eyebrow at my reflection while an evil idea came into my head. See, I told you visiting the bathroom was something I ought to avoid.

It didn’t matter, I was going to do it. Probably. If Mike wanted it. Maybe. Okay, definitely. Even if it meant I had to control Mike, too. ‘Cause it was something different. Totally different, considering it involved men. I frowned at myself. I couldn’t blame it on being drunk this time. Or on emotional difficulties with my online slaves. All ten of them were being perfectly good girls lately and I had to resort to making them spank themselves just for fun since it wasn’t for punishment. Okay, I’m getting side-tracked. What I mean is, I take full responsibility for using my naturally-endowed abilities to Mike’s benefit. Even if he didn’t happen to see it that way initially.

I licked my lips in anticipation. I mean, really, wouldn’t you? Even if it wasn’t your type of sex? Just the idea of making them do it, dominating them even if you weren’t planning on fucking them yourself. Excuse me, I’ve got to take a break from typing.

So anyway, I sauntered back toward the table (sauntering is my best walk. There’s also strutting, striding, and tip-toeing, but sauntering works best in a bar, I find) to see the two boys engaged in a heated discussion. They were looking intently at each other. I stopped at the bar and ordered a shot of tequila with a Corona chaser. No, Corona’s not my most favorite beer, either, but it’s best for tequila, don’t you think?

First I turned to the girl on my right. She was pretty enough and her outfit low-cut enough. And she was into girls, too, so it didn’t take much thought to make her bare her left nipple to me. A little lemon, a little salt... I tossed back the shot, licked the salty citrus juice off her nipple, gave her a little bite that she giggled at, then let her put her breast away while I took a swig of my beer. If I’m going to be bad tonight—for the greater good, of course—I might as well let the alcohol make me all bad. The girl I used was looking up at me in adoration. I ignored her. I needed to think about the way men fit together. What was I going to do with two boys?

The girl tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her, impatient.

“What?” I asked in my best Hypno-domme voice.

Her eyes widened in fear and lust and I almost forgot about the guys at my table.

“Um, nothing,” she said, lowering her eyes. I lifted her head with a gloved forefinger under her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

“If you had the nerve to bother me, at least have the guts to tell me what you wanted to say,” I said softly.

“Um, I just was hoping... maybe... maybe you’d, um, lick the other one?”

“No, I won’t. But thanks for asking,” I replied as kindly as I could. Which wasn’t much, I’ll admit. I’m just not a nice person. I’m a mean person with a nice person’s conscience.

“Okay,” she whispered. I was still touching the soft underside of her chin with my finger. I had to force myself to let her go and get back to the job at hand: men. I glanced at the table where my quarry—I mean, my friend and his new acquaintance, were getting along. Still into some sort of serious discussion, though neither of the looked upset. Just really into each other. Could it be we were both wrong about Alex’s orientation? I delved into his mind. Nope, he was straight. Just open about sexuality and not at all put off by Mike’s obvious attraction. Flattered, even.

“Boys,” I said as I closed in on them, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” as I interrupted. They both politely denied that I was any problem and I saw hope flare up in Alex’s eyes. Yes, he was looking for adventure and was hoping I’d show it to him. I suppose I would be, wouldn’t I?

“What have you two been discussing?” I asked. Mike stuck his tongue out at me when Alex answered, “We were talking about the history of the bar and how nice it is that people of all orientations have a place like this to talk and get to know others better.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, “What have you learned so far, then?” I leaned in towards him and placed a latex-gloved hand over his. He was too busy looking at my gloved hand to reply, so Mike piped up, “He learned that you’re into women, Isobelle,” and stuck out his tongue again. He just wasn’t getting it. Didn’t I describe him as “intelligent” earlier? Well, his cock must have been thinking for him, because all that radiated out of him was jealousy. The shot of tequila made me curl my lip at him and fan his jealous flame a little more.

“Well, girls are my speciality, but every once in a while a man catches my fancy.” I smiled at Alex and he smiled back with slightly unfocused eyes. I glanced at the tabletop and the many empty glasses. He’d consumed more alcohol while I was gone. “Why don’t we continue this conversation at my place? Both of you.” I tried to let Mike catch on by himself but it wasn’t working.

“Mike, I want to give him to you,” I thought to him. His eyes widened. Mike knew what I was capable of but only in an objective sense. He’d never seen what I could do to other people and I hadn’t ever sent thoughts to him except once, when I wanted help changing a flat tire in the middle of the freeway.

Alex was nodding in agreement and I could feel the blood rushing to his penis. “Too easy,” I thought to myself. Maybe I like women because they’re more challenging. Well, no, they’re not. Not with my powers. I just find them really yummy.

Mike threw me a frightened look and shook his head, “I don’t want it,” he thought back, nearly yelling.

“Yes you do,” I said aloud.

“What?” Alex asked. He turned to look at Mike. “If Mike doesn’t want to go that’s fine, right?” he asked.

“No, I like Mike and I’m not done hanging out with him this evening,” I replied aloud while I thought to Mike, “Come with us. Or I’ll make you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he countered as evenly as he could, “You’re my friend and you promised.”

“That was years ago and tonight I’ve had too much to drink. Come on, let me make him love you. Or at least fuck you.”

Our silent conversation continued in that vein for about five minutes while I managed to simultaneously discuss travel options with Alex. Mike just sat there, silently railing at me and my flexible ethics. Finally I said, “Alex, go get your car. You can drive me home since Mike drove me here.” I glared at Mike, pretending to be angry. I was betting maybe the thought of forcing him wouldn’t work as well as the thought of me having Alex all to myself. I was right. That flare of jealousy welled up again in his eyes and he stood rapidly.

“I will come, after all, Isobelle.”

“Oh? Well, if you must. Alex and I will meet you there.” I turned and headed out the door right behind Alex, who wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to Mike, his future lover. I’d make him pay for that. I love Mike like the brother I never had.

My “brother” grabbed my arm just as I was outside. I turned to face him.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“To you? You should be asking me, ‘Why are you doing this to him for me?’” I replied.

“That’s exactly what I meant. I thought you were controlling yourself.”

“I’m letting off steam and helping you out at the same time,” I tried to explain.

“No you’re not. You’re revelling in this absolute control crap that you’ve got. To you, Alex’s nothing but a toy. I don’t see him like that. I don’t want a man you’d have to mess with.”

“You’ll change your mind tonight and it won’t be because I change it for you,” I promised, “I’ve read his mind and I know what he wants. He just doesn’t know he wants it,” I lied. I lied, yes, but just a little. Well, maybe more than a little.

“Really?” Mike asked, his eyes searching mine. I tried to look as innocent and helpful as I could. He must have decided to trust me, because there was a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“Really,” I finally replied as Alex’s car drew up from around the corner. Mike released my arm and I stepped toward the car.

“See you there,” I called gaily as I entered the passenger seat and gathered my black lace train up around my calf-high black leather boots.

My home, if you weren’t able to guess, was a Victorian mansion decorated in gothic sensibility. Black everything, save the restored wooden floors. And whatever wasn’t black was either gold or brocade or both. The exterior was gaily painted with true period colors, however. I didn’t feel like advertising my dark interior to the neighborhood. The white, conventional blinds that were always drawn hid my decorating style and my private activities.

These days those activities weren’t much more than anyone else’s, plus some heavy hours on the internet or on the phone with my slaves. But one never knows. A guest might enter and be in need of some time on the rack or in the iron cage. Wouldn’t want Mr and Mrs Jones next door to have to worry about that sort of thing.

Alex whistled at the view of the exterior as he parked at the curb. Even at night it looks quiet and inviting.

“Musta cost a fortune to restore that baby,” he said then got out and opened the door on my side.

“Such a gentleman,” I murmured, “Yes, restoration was pricey, but worth it. In a few years I’ll be able to sell it for a tidy sum.”

“No doubt,” he agreed.

We were halfway up the walk when Mike parked his car behind Alex’s and trotted up to us. Alex flashed him a smile.

When I opened the front door and turned on the lights Alex joked, “Was that singer from Tusk your interior decorator?”

“You mean Stevie Nicks?” I asked, smiling slightly, “She was in Fleetwood Mac. Well, she did volunteer a few opinions.” I bit my lip to avoid telling him the story about how well she had served me. And I’m biting my lip again, dear reader. Mike was shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“I thought you were out of your gothic phase,” Mike commented.

“With my lips painted black?” I made a fetching moue in his direction, “You’ve got to be joking.”

“No, maybe just hopeful,” he teased. I could tell he was getting more comfortable with my plans—with what he thought my plans were, at least.

“I like it,” Alex said, “It’s totally different than what I’m used to.”

“What are you used to?” Mike asked.

“The usual white and boring apartment with bad pastel watercolor prints and cheap Ikea furniture,” Alex answered.

“I know where you’re coming from,” Mike said sympathetically.

“Sounds like you two have so much in common,” I said.

They smiled at each other and I nudged Alex’s mind in the direction of romance. There was a small flicker in Alex’s eye and I thought there wouldn’t be much work for me after all.

By this time they’d removed their coats and I’d hung them up for them in the entryway. We moved to the living room and I headed to the small bar.

“Drinks, anyone?”

“I’ll have another gin and tonic,” Mike said and he sent a thought my way, “You, young lady, have had enough to drink.”

“Yes, you’re right,” I thought back.

“I’ll have another, too, please,” Alex said.

“Oh, You have such a nice way of saying please, Alex,” I cooed at him as I made the drinks. We chatted for a while about absolutely nothing so I won’t bore you with the details. Finally, around two or so in the morning, the three of us were packed onto the couch. Alex was completely smashed and had his hand on my leg. He was sitting between Mike and I and Mike had his hand on Alex’s thigh. I had no thigh to touch, poor me. But I was getting aroused simply by nudging Alex’s lust toward Mike every time his fingers crept farther up my leg.

When I said something particularly witty Alex took it as a chance to kiss me as a reward. I turned my head so his kiss hit my cheek and he drew back, looking a little confused.

“Now, now, Alex, we’re here to drink and make conversation,” I smiled disarmingly.

“Oh,” he said.

“We can’t exclude Mike, you see, so if you’re going to kiss me you have to kiss him, as well,” I admonished.

“You’re right,” Alex said.

“Why don’t you kiss him on the cheek since that’s where you kissed me,” I suggested. And Alex did just that. I didn’t even have to push him to do it. Mike’s eyes lit up and he laughed.

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that,” he said. Playing the part of the unsuspecting innocent.

“Of course he does. He has to do anything I ask him to, don’t you, Alex?”

“Um, I suppose so, since you’re the domme and everything,” he admitted. Though it looked like his thinking was a little fuzzy. I was debating with myself: take away his alcohol-induced haze and make him aware of being forced into homosexual activity, or let the fog make things a little easier for him. I glanced at Mike, who was grinning at me. Right, no pain for Alex, I told myself. This is for Mike, not for me.

“That’s right, sweetie. Would you like to do a few more things for me?” I asked.

“Anything for you. You’re so... hot.”

“That’s so... insightful. Well, it really turns me on when my men fondle each other. Could you do that for me? It would please me so much.” I batted my eyes at him and Alex blushed. I nudged his libido a bit, making him get a little more horny at the thought of fondling Mike.

“For you, yes, Isobelle.”

“You can call me Mistress, Alex.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said fervently, really starting to get excited by what he considered role-playing.

“Well, then, Alex, what are you waiting for?”

I watched him eye Mike nervously. Mike, however, leaned back in his chair like he was ready to be the passive gropee.

“Mike, you should at least return the favor. And you should take the lead. I don’t think Alex quite knows what to do.” Alex had started with a hesitant hand on Mike’s thigh, leaning into him a little. Mike looked at me and then back at Alex. He still didn’t understand the gift I was giving him. Or didn’t believe it.

I found myself amused by Mike’s shyness. He was thirty-five and, considering I’m his closest confidante, you’ve got believe me when I say Mike was an old hand at man on man relationships. Yet somehow he managed to look like he didn’t know what to do with himself, or with Alex.

I had forgotten how hard it was to get stuff done without relying on mental powers. So I gave into it and leaned into both their psyches pretty hard: thou shalt love the man thou art with, thou shalt not worry about the woman in the room, thou shalt engage in hardcore sex that any porno film-maker would be proud of. You know, that sort of thing. So I broke my promise to Mike. Sue me. I mean, really, the boy wasn’t taking advantage of his present!

The result was immediate. No more waiting for me to direct events because I had turned it into Improv Night. A hand here, a hand there, tongues dancing around each other, and soft moans. I debated watching or just leaving them to it. But if I hadn’t stayed to watch there wouldn’t be much of a story for you to read. I watched for your pleasure, really.

“Mike, I love you,” Alex said huskily. Mike was too heavily manipulated by me to be surprised. “I love you, too,” was about all he managed to say between kisses.

“Take off your shirts,” I thought to them. They managed to unbutton and remove their shirts while still sucking face. Good Lord, it was like their lips were glue to each other. If it had been me and one of my girls there would have been enough breath for her to worship me with words every little while. But these two were not interested in talking about what they were doing.

I made my way to the lone barstool and poured myself a glass of water. The boys ignored me completely. Mike had pushed Alex back onto the couch, pressing him down with his left hand against his, Alex’s, shoulder. They gazed into each other’s eyes as Alex stroked Mike’s chest with both hands, lingering around the nipples, and Mike began to unbutton Alex’s fly with one hand. Their moaning actually grew noisier and I was considering looking for the mute button. Penises weren’t even out and they sounded like they were about to come.

Finally Mike got Alex’s cock out. Seen one, seen ‘em all, I say. Yeah, so there’s a little variation, but in terms of how they operate, it’s all the same. Mike’s response was a lot different than mine. He cooed something like, “Fuck, yeah,” and started stroking it with whole-hearted excitement. Alex moaned even louder. I started breathing a little heavy, myself. They were just so into it and I was catching their fever.

Alex’s hands ventured lower and lower until he was massaging Mike’s crotch through his jeans. I was just about to make him unzip them when he finally got around to it himself. It looked like they were so excited about fondling each other that they wouldn’t bother actually removing their jeans. But after a few moments of getting each other slicked up with their own juices Mike took his left hand from Alex’s shoulder and moved off the couch entirely. He knelt and started to remove Alex’s cowboy boots. Then his socks, then his jeans, all of which ended up in an untidy heap on the coffee table. Then there was just the boxer shorts. I approve of boxer shorts. Girls look really cute in them.

Alex tugged them off himself and revealed his crotch in all its manly glory. I’d like to say I wasn’t impressed, but Mike was salivating and immediately started giving Alex head and that turned me on. His cheeks caved in with the suction and from time to time he took it out of his mouth completely in order to cover it with a dozen licks and kisses, running his teeth over its length, eliciting sharp growls from the man he was pleasuring. Alex’s contribution was ejaculations to the tune of, “Oh, yeah, baby, suck my cock!” and other such things to let Mike know he was doing a good job. In fact, Mike looked so single-minded and determined that I was starting to think he’d make me a good slave. I considered masturbating to that thought but decided to try to remain objective so I could tell you everything that happened.

Mike decided it wasn’t fair that Alex was the only naked one so he stood and stripped faster than you can say “John Henry.” He stood there looking down at Alex wearing naught but the lust in his eyes. Alex stared right back, then let his gaze travel down Mike’s rock-hard six pack (not even I knew he kept himself in such good shape) to rest on his penis. Which was incredibly large.

Alex started to look a little frightened but Mike smiled and said, “I want you to fuck me.” He knelt, legs on either side of Alex’s, and leaned in to start up the kissing again. Their cocks rubbed against each other and they started moaning again and I sipped my water in an effort to stay cool, but with my other hand I couldn’t help tracing patterns between my thighs. I was as turned on by the power of making a straight boy bent as I thought I would be.

Finally, by some signal I couldn’t catch, they decided it was time to actually engage each other. Mike rose his ass up and used one hand to guide Alex’s cock against his asshole. Then he sank down with excruciating slowness. It was torture to watch simply because I myself have no patience once I’m ready to let a girl serve me intimately. But the look on Alex’s face was simply sublime: lust, need, excitement, desire, and, almost, fainting. As if he couldn’t believe his good luck.

Mike rode him with a concentrated air, as if he was recording the experience so he could review it later at his leisure. His steady up-and-down motion didn’t vary, his thighs kept him perfectly steady, and his eyes were locked onto Alex, measuring his responses to every muscle movement. It looked like Mike would be able to ride him forever. Meanwhile, Alex was giving Mike a handjob in time with their fucking. The amount of pre-come Mike was producing was pretty amazing, not that I have a whole lot of experience to judge that sort of thing.

Eventually, Alex reached his apex and let out the loudest cry yet and his hips bucked up into Mike’s. Mike, in turn, ground himself against Alex, willing him to come as hard as he could. When Alex’s body went limp and he closed his eyes, Mike bent down to nibble in his ear and coo encouraging words. Alex’s hand never stopped working on Mike’s cock, however, until he, too, came, spilling his seed all over Alex’s chest. Alex rubbed it over his nipples and ribs, then lifted a finger to his mouth to taste it, looking into Mike’s eyes all the while and moaning like his orgasm had done nothing to lessen his desire.

It was nice to see the two getting along so well. I almost shed a romantic tear. Instead, I willed them to notice me once again. They turned beet red and started to stumble out apologies for fucking on my living room couch. I silenced them with a wave.

I was just about to make them each take turns going down on me but Mike was coming down from his post-orgasm high and was starting to look at me suspiciously. I remembered my long-standing promise to him and started to feel just the littlest bit guilty. It was probably best to get them out of there as soon as possible.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it, boys?” I asked with a wry smile. They nodded their heads like repentant little teenagers. “Why don’t you two just go home, now. I’ve had enough for one night and you two need your sleep if you’re going to keep on like that.”

“Take him home with you,” I thought to Mike and Mike nodded tiredly. I watched them get dressed. They could hardly keep their hands off each other. And they way they looked into each other’s eyes made me think yet another true love match had been made on earth. The first matchmaking I’d ever done and it was a success! With a little mental domination, of course. I dug my nails in my palms to keep from dominating them again, at that thought. I’d just have to e-mail Luisa and “chat” with her a bit.

I led them back to the entranceway and handed them their coats, smiling. I don’t think they even noticed.

“It was lovely meeting you, Alex. I hope you’ll come out with Mike and I next week when we head to Crossfire.” I wasn’t trying to be subtle, because that’s just not my style. But Mike’s face turned red and Alex laughed.

“I’ll be coming out, all right,” he said.