The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I knocked on Meg’s door at 8pm sharp. I had a feeling it was a good idea to be prompt.

Butterflies ran through my stomach when she opened the door. “Right on time!” she said, grinning. “I like a guy who takes direction well.”

Man, she was beautiful. My dream girl. “Um, hi,” I said. Smooth as ever.

“Have a seat on the couch,” she said, ushering me in and waving towards the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, OJ, Coke...”

“Coke’s fine,” I called as she disappeared into the kitchen. I started to sit down, and noticed through the open door of her bedroom a pair of panties on the floor next to the hamper.

Were those the ones? Hadn’t I put them away? I remembered masturbating in the morning in her bedroom, holding her panties, and I froze, and blushed, and was still standing there blushing and interrupted in half-sit when Meg came back into the room with two glasses.

She followed the direction of my gaze and then turned back as she set the glasses on the table, smiling. I blushed more deeply, but her eyes were so beautiful.

“I meant to tell you how much I loved having you here this morning. I’m sorry I had to leave so early, but I hope you were comfortable here after I left. I... kinda liked the idea of you lying in my bed after I was gone, maybe smelling the scent of my body on the sheets...”

I drew in a quick breath. I pretty much had done that, and it was utterly sexy. Her eyes were all I could look at as she sat down next to me on the couch.

“I just had ten different things to do, you know how that is? All before 9 a.m.”

I nodded. I could smell the undefinable scent of her breath as she spoke. My heart was racing.

“So I went and ate a bit, and then seven different people came up to talk to me about six different projects and by five...”

Her eyes were my world.

“Four... three... two...”

—

I felt a tap on my forehead and opened my eyes. Blinked. My lips were wet. And Meg’s face was very close to mine.

I could smell her breath. It smelled wonderful.

“Sorry, I have to go pee!” she said, grimacing in mock dismay as she stood up from my lap. “Get me some more water while I’m gone.”

“Yes, Meg,” I said immediately, and blushed. The idea of doing a service for her seemed utterly sexy. I took her glass from the coffee table and went into the kitchen to see if this was a water-pitcher or a tap-water household.

Water pitcher. Meg was back on the couch by the time I was done refilling the pitcher, putting it back in the fridge, and bearing the water glass back to the living room. I handed the glass to her.

She didn’t take it. “Shouldn’t you be on your knees when you’re serving me?” she asked with a wicked smile.

I grinned but realized I was also blushing. Damn. That actually sounded really sexy when she said it. And she was still looking at me. I blushed more.

Her look changed. “Kneel,” she said firmly.

“Yes, Meg,” I replied, and instantly sank to my knees, holding the glass up to her.

Still looking into my eyes (I couldn’t look away), she took the glass from me, sipped some water from it, and set it on the table. She leaned forward until I could taste her breath, and she licked her lips. “I like having you fetch and carry for me.” She looked down at my lips. “You’re fun to use.”

Slowly she licked my upper lip. Then she leaned back again.

I shivered.

“Come sit next to me,” she said, patting the couch. I complied.

“Now,...” she said, and whispered something in my ear.

—

I was writing out an assignment for detention. I’d been very bad in class. Mostly because my teacher was totally hot, and I was too distracted ogling her body, trying to peek up her skirt and fantasizing about things I’d like to do with her to pay her proper attention in class. So she’d held me after class to make sure I paid her proper attention.

“I love it when Meg uses me,” I wrote. She told me that each time I wrote it, it became more true. Of course she was right—all of her lessons were important truths for me to absorb, and I knew that even when I wasn’t consciously paying attention, some part of me was drinking in her every word. But it was really hard to pay attention to the words when she was sitting on the desk in front of mine, watching me with those incredible eyes, leaning forward so I could see the shape of her breasts through her t-shirt and the way her hard nipples poked through the thin fabric, just inviting me to kiss them...

“Keep writing,” she said sternly.

“Yes, Meg,” I responded, and bent back to my paper.

I love it when Meg uses me.

I love it when Meg uses me.

I love it when Meg uses me...

I heard a zipper, and looked up without moving my head, to see her hands at the fly of her jeans. “Keep writing,” she said again.

“Yes, Meg.”

I love it when Meg uses me...

“If you were really a good boy, you’d stay focused on your assignment instead of needing to keep looking up here trying to sneak a peek at my thighs. Those are very important lessons you’re writing out, and it’s a good thing they’re going straight into your subconscious, while your conscious mind is totally occupied fantasizing about my breasts, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Meg. I mean... um...”

“Keep writing.”

“Yes, Meg.” I love it when Meg uses me...

“A really good boy wouldn’t even notice that I’m taking off my pants now. He’d keep his eyes on the page, even if he couldn’t think of anything at all but what my panties look like. Even if his naughty imagination was filled with fantasies, curiousity begging to be satisfied. Keep writing.”

“Yes, Meg.” I love it when Meg uses me...

“It’s that naughty imagination that gets you into trouble, you know. Ohh... I bet you’re imagining what I’m doing now, too. Mmmm. Ohhh! Keep writing.”

“Yes, Meg.” I love it when Meg uses me...

“And those—mmmmmm—naughty impulses always give you away. What color are my panties?”

I looked up before I could stop myself. She had one leg on the floor and one stretched out along the top of the desk, and her jeans were crumpled at her feet. One of her hands was inside the waistband of her black satin underwear and she was moving it slowly. I looked down quickly, but she saw me looking anyway.

”Bad boy!”

“Yes, Meg.” I love it when Meg uses me...

“Ohh, you’ll have to be punished most severely for that! Come here.”

“Yes, Meg.” I stood and walked over to her before I could think about it. “But...”

“Oh, you’ll still have to write them out. One thousand lines. But you’re still writing them, right now. You can see that, in your mind’s eye, can’t you?”

“Yes, Meg.” I could see it. I was still sitting at the desk, writing my lines. I love it when Meg uses me...

“And while your mind is doing that, you don’t need your body right now. So I’m going to use it.”

I love it when Meg uses me.

“Lie down. Wait—over there.” She pointed me to a bed, and I went over to it. “On your back.” I lay down.

She came and sat on the bed next to me. It was hard to make the effort to look at her, but she turned my head so that I was looking into her eyes. Those incredible eyes...

“Now since your mind is elsewhere, it’s very hard to move your body anymore. In fact you may find it getting very stiff. Stiff and rigid for me, John.”

She was right. My whole body was frozen. I couldn’t even seem to wonder about it. All I could do was keep looking in her eyes.

I love it when Meg uses me...

“So stiff and rigid you’re like a piece of furniture.” She bent down to get something out of my sight, then came back up and slid on top of me. She lay along my body, on her back, her ass pressed against my hard cock through my jeans. She spread her legs slightly, rubbing her bare thighs against the outsides of my clothed ones.

“You’re my furniture, John. I’m using you as a piece of furniture.”

I love it when Meg uses me...

I thought I was saying “Yes, Meg,” but my mouth was stiff and rigid and didn’t seem to be moving. I was still writing, though. I love it when Meg uses me. I love it when Meg uses me. There was a loud buzzing noise as the vibrator she’d grabbed from the bedside table turned on. I love it when Meg uses me. She bucked her hips and ground her ass against my cock. I love it when Meg uses me. She moaned and grabbed my arm with her free hand as she got closer to coming. I love it when Meg uses me. Her fingers tightened on my arm. I love it when Meg uses me. She dug her fingers in tight and pressed into my crotch and shivered and cried out, “OHHHHHHhhhhh...”

I love it when Meg uses me.

After a few minutes of silence, she rolled over and kissed my forehead. “What a terribly sexy mattress you make! My mattress. Mmmmm. Now you keep writing, but you’re going to do it in your sleep. You’re going to go to sleep now, curled up beside me. Your body isn’t quite as stiff, now that you’re my pillow, you can snuggle up against me, that’s right. Mm, yes, like that. Now go to sleep...” she whispered something else in my ear.

I bent to my writing.

I love it when Meg uses me...