The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As David Stilton stood outside St. Felicity’s Church, he hoped that the grey clouds looming above would hold it in. A burst of rain could ruin his suit, not that he had anything else left to ruin.

But he wasn’t miserable, excited actually, for today he was gambling on his dream coming true. Cost enough, around £5000, paid in a last act of desperation.

Today if all went to plan, his wife would come back to him.

“Sit down David,” said Caroline “I’ve got some bad news.”

Not perturbed, David sat himself down on the sofa. Normally bad news amounted to a broken washing machine or a scratched car. Whatever, he could take another tug on the wallet.

“I’m gay,” said his wife of five years.

He laughed, snorted really, thinking at first it was a joke but as her worried expression didn’t change, certain things fell into place.

Like the time when she’d mutter how hot that particular actress was but give a ‘meh’ to the hunky co-star and of course in the bedroom she always seemed to be less eager then him.

“You’re gay,” he numbly repeated.

“Born gay, die gay and can never change that fact, I’m so sorry.”

He let his eyes go out of focus, for looking at his wife was too painful.

“I mean you know what my parents are like, forceful, demanding, begging for grandkids. In my family homosexuality was one of those things that occurred in the wider world, never thought I’d have it.”

His knuckles tightened, his mouth dried, and after a fashion David rose and staggered from home to the nearest pub. In a haze he drank enough to numb the pain trickling through his scalp.

“When did you find out?” he had asked his wife.

“Remember Delia?”

Delia was her tennis partner, her best friend.

“Hanging out with her would be the highlight of my week, I mean I’d practically run to meet her, feeling so insanely happy at having such a good friend.”

She gulped.

“It was last Saturday, after we finished having coffee and as I watched her walk to her car, this single thought flashed through my mind “My god, I’m in love with this woman.””

He fell from his stool and hammered his fists onto the panelled floor, drawing the ire of the bar staff and the amusement of the patrons.

David shifted on one foot then the other and glanced up at the solid gothic outline of St. Felicity’s. It was ironic that a gay wedding was going to take place within, when only ten years ago there had been protests over the parish refusing to allow such a ceremony.

Well it was proof that things change.

“You can’t change her,” Annabelle droned on “She’s gay and no amount of sulking can ever alter that fact.”

A hungover David was slumped on his kitchen counter whilst a prairie oyster sat in front of him, untouched. His sister, the practical Annabelle was lecturing him as was her habit. Sometimes finding the right words of advice, sometimes saying entirely the wrong thing.

Annabelle loved giving her speeches and David knowing from experience, just kept his mouth shut. One saving grace of her lectures was that she gave them only once.

“You think it’s hard for you?” she said “Trust me it’s harder for her. You’re straight, you don’t know what an advantage that is. Being gay means people will shun her or she could get fired from her job and there’s places on the planet she’ll never venture for fear of being thrown in jail or killed. I’m not joking.”

David rubbed the balls of his dried eyes, trying to get use to the jackhammer splitting open his skull.

“It’s not as if she’s stopped caring about you,” Annabelle went on “She’s been ringing us up. asking if you’re alright. Anyway, this may sound callous, but she can be replaced. You can move on and get it right the second time, find a woman who’s super straight.”

The guests were arriving now, David forced a grimace as Delia, dressed in a white tux fluttered past. She nodded curtly to him, but he swore her eyes twinkle, almost in glee or triumph.

Could he ever like or even tolerate the woman who stole his wife? When he saw her, all he could think in a fist tightening way was that she was the one waking up in bed with his wife. HIS wife.

Two years since their divorce, David received the wedding invitation with total and utter incredulity. Asking a man to attend his ex-wife’s wedding? How was that a good idea?

He said yes of course, all because he wanted to feel something rather than a prevailing numbness. Maybe he wanted to feel angry or wretched when he arrived at the pre-wedding shower. God knows he felt both when he saw Caroline and Delia sitting side by side, occasionally giving each other’s hand a quick squeeze or a peck on the cheek and most painfully of all, that look, of glowing adoration in Caroline’s eyes.

She was utterly in love with the other woman, David could see that, hell the dumbest, densest idiot could see that from ten miles.

Had to be an adult about this, Caroline was her own woman, she wasn’t his anymore. So, David wore the mask of laid back, totally cool guy who had gotten over his ex-wife, happy she had found someone else. Drank a little more than necessary but kept smiling to whomever talk to him. Only when he dashed to the toilets did he drop the act.

Fuck, fuck, she didn’t love him anymore! Moved on, happier, better off without him! Christ!

Walking out of the lavatory after half an hour of misery, David spied Caroline standing alone at the end of the corridor, her mobile against her ear. Hanging back, he slipped into an alcove and listened.

“I can’t explain it mum,” she was saying “I know how you feel but I can’t lie. Walking up to the alter, seeing David smiling at me. All I felt was this gnawing sense of guilt. I mean even then I knew I wasn’t in love with him. Sure, I was fond of him and liked him a little, but it wasn’t love. Why did I do it? Because you wanted me to. I think you and Dad liked him more than me, felt he was respectable, and you know what dad’s like. He’s still not coming to the wedding, is he? I’m sorry that’s his problem. I’m not apologising for who I am. I’m a lesbian and if he can’t accept it then we’ve got nothing to talk about.”

David spied the white limousine, appearing at the top of Morven Street. Inside sat Caroline.

He held his breath as the car pulled in just by the curb.

“Something similar happened to me,” said Jeff, David’s colleague and drinking pal “You know I had a girlfriend first year of college? Christ she was amazing let me tell you. Anyhow I get word my best friend is fucking my girlfriend behind my back and she decides she likes him more. That hurts!”

Jeff sipped his pint before thumping the mug on the beermat.

“Funny thing,” he went on “years later, I get myself a wedding invite from those two. Probably as a joke, cause c’mon why else would you invite your cuckolded ex? So anyhow I wipe my ass with the invite and send that back!”

He snorted at his wit, but David didn’t join in.

“C’mon buddy,” said Jeff “If going to her wedding’s too much just stay home. What’s so special about Caroline anyhow?”

David gave up trying to maintain his composure and let it all burst loose in a sob of despair.

“Goddamnit!” he cried out “don’t you see Jeff? Can’t anyone tell? I’m still in love with her.”

The barman, twisting a towel in a mug made no secret that he was eavesdropping. Jeff shot the man a warning and the curious barkeep pottered off elsewhere.

“I thought I could move on,” said David “but meeting her, hanging out with her first year of college. Holding her in my arms and just talking. Don’t you know how wonderful it all was. Best days of my life!”

David choked down another mouthful of ale.

“Every day I wake up and for a brief second I think she’s lying next to me but then I realise I’m all alone and this feeling of utter awfulness washes over me. Goddamnit Jeff, I can’t move on. What can I do?”

He sobbed loudly, two years should have given him time to recover but if anything, the pain had gotten worse….

Jeff stared at his weeping friend before he grimaced, “You know, you could always cheat.”

“What?”

“Well…” Jeff chose his words carefully “I know a guy.”

“A guy?”

“A special kind of guy. A woman lost her arm in a motorcycle accident, saw this guy and her arm grew back. Another dude found out his daughter was mentally retarded, and this guy gave his daughter a genius level IQ. I swear to God that’s what happened.”

“Faith healer,” David snorted “you’re always falling for some scam artist, aren’t you?”

“This is real, trust me man,” said Jeff simply “Hell I can introduce you two tonight.”

Well David had nothing better to do.

So, rising from their seats, they walked outside, whilst Jeff ordered a taxi. David moped in his own private world as the car sped from the office district, towards the dismal docklands. A place littered with potholes, broken bottles and graffiti.

After paying the driver the pair walked through the streets, turning from one grimy alley after another before coming towards a stale dingy building. David was critical of course, and as he and Jeff walked up to the rusty front door, he wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

This was the house of the special guy, the guy who’d fix all his problems?

Jeff had raised his fist as if to knock…

“Yes?” called out a man’s voice from within.

David flinched, wondering if some hidden cameras were watching or if the owner of the voice had exceptionally good hearing.

“Oh no,” the voice boomed “I just have supernatural abilities.”

What? Could the man read minds?

“Of course I can David,” answered the voice “come on in and tell me your problem.”

And the door opened by itself revealing…well David blinked in disbelief as he saw what he thought was utterly impossible: a sunny open plain way larger than its’ small cramped exterior.

Both men walked out onto some kind of roman style pavilion, surrounded on all sides by green fields, silver lakes and rolling hills. Above them the sun beat down whilst only a minute ago David had stared up at a crescent moon.

Impossible, impossible. Like the Tardis or a wormhole? What was going on here?

“Like it?” called out the deep baritone “yes, helps convince customers I’m the real deal.”

At the other end of the pavilion, sat a man upon a marble chair. And as David slowly made his way towards this fellow, he saw how commanding he was. Big, beefy and bald with a moustache and goatee, wearing dark robes which couldn’t conceal his bulging body, and there was no hiding his towering height.

“So, you’re David Stilton,” said the fellow “divorced and still longing for your ex-wife, right?”

David stopped short, amazed at the guy for getting the details correct. Too correct.

The man laughed and leaned forward.

“And what is too correct Mr. Stilton, I’m too convincing to be true, is that it? That’s a no-win situation if I ever heard one. Too convincing or not convincing enough!”

David didn’t laugh back and tried as he looked around, to assure himself that the place in which he stood, too sunny to be his rain sodden town, was nothing except a well heated room and the open fields were just high def screens or something.

“Ah Mr. Stilton, if you don’t believe any of this why come here. Oh, but I’m sorry, it appears I’ve forgotten my manners.”

The man rose from his seat and offered a large paw to which the timid David shook.

“I’m Oliver Crawley, magician and in my own way wish granter if the price is met.”

David swallowed and for the first time spoke to the man.

“Please to um meet you Mr. Crawley, listen I um…”

He glanced over at the silent Jeff who had shoved his hands into his pockets.

“…my friend brought me here in hope that you’d possibly be willing to fix my predicament I mean…”

“Basically” interrupted Jeff “his ex-wife is totally gay and is marrying some other woman.”

“Goodness,” boomed Mr. Crawley “such limited insight, Either you’re gay or straight and nothing in-between!”

He snorted.

“But I suppose I could fix things for you so that your wife runs back into your arms or perhaps help you have a change of heart, so you can to move on.”

David breathed out.

“I need her,” he stated “I can’t live without her and I’ll gladly give my right arm if it means…”

Mr. Crawley held up his hand.

“No mutilations old boy,” he said “no mutilations at all. I don’t want your soul either, no it’s more prosaic than that, for my services I require cash up front, mundane but reasonable and nothing you can’t recover from.”

“How much?”

“Oh say £10,000. That’s my take it or leave it offer.”

David winced, he had been hoping to buy a new car, and a few things for Christmas, plus divorce and alimony meant he wasn’t exactly swimming in it. Oh, sure If he really, really had to he’d pay. It would be a tight squeeze and it was ludicrous to ask him to pay that much and yet…

And yet he stared at the golden fields surrounding him and felt the overwhelming heat. He told himself it was October and he was standing inside a grotty building and yet...

He heard the swaying of grass in the faint breeze. He could smell the wheat and almost taste the dry ground. He wasn’t much of a spiritual man, but he couldn’t deny his own senses.

Still £10,000?

“You know what,” came Jeff’s reassuring voice “I can pinch in, split the deal fifty-fifty.”

“Split it?” said David “You’d pay 5000 for me?”

“Sure,” said Jeff “that’s what friends are for huh? But hey it’s not just for you,” he nodded at the smiling Mr. Crawley “Me and the boys at the gym have been itching to try a little something. If our man here is willing to accommodate, I’ll help you out.”

So, there was some sort of private joke, between Jeff and Mr. Crawley? David could tell that they had talked about something before, some sort of devilish scheme was planned between them.

Whatever, he wanted Caroline back and he was willing to try anything.

“Alright,” he said at last, “I’ll pay.”

And as Caroline stepped out of the limo and locked eyes with him, David had the inkling it had been worth every ha’penny.

Her lips quivered, no other word for it, and she seemed dazed at the sight of him. Ushered along by her maid of honour, Caroline stole another glance from David before disappearing into the church.

David held his breath and hoped that meant what he thought it meant.

Taking his place at the very back of the nave, he watched the couple at the altar, Delia was pleased as all hell, whilst poor old Caroline never a great actress, squirmed and seemed agitated.

People were going to put it down to nerves, but David noted her fists tightening, her fingers wriggling, her fast breathing, all these signs told him she really didn’t want to be there.

Please remember, he thought, their time spent together, talking about their dreams and hopes. Could she forget how much love he gave her? How she once told him seeing him happy made her happy, how she felt if she heard a good joke or saw something on TV the experience wasn’t complete unless she shared it with him.

Or when he told her how much he loved her, and she beamed back. Was it all just a lie?

Delia had finished saying her vows and the priest turned to Caroline.

“Repeat after me,” he said to her “I Caroline.”

“I Caroline,” she repeated, her voice an awkward stammer.

“Take thee Delia.”

“Take thee David.”

A gasp from the crowd. Delia staggered back as if someone had slammed a fist right into her belly. Caroline spun around, looked into the audience, spotted David and without a moment of hesitation she hitched up her dress and tore down the aisle.

Leaping into her husband’s open arms, Caroline feverishly kissed him.

“Oh David, I’m so sorry” she wept “I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, please forgive me.”

“I do,” he whispered to her “I do.”

Against the backdrop of gasps and open jaws, the pair sped out from the church. Yelling out to a passing taxi, they leapt inside, and Caroline then flung herself over David.

“I love you,” she gasped “oh David, I love you so much it hurts. I don’t know what I was thinking, running off with another woman but you’re the one I want. I want to live the rest of my life with you and have your children and everything. When I saw you standing there I realized I never stopped loving you.”

David cracked up a little then. So gratefully for Jeff and Mr. Crawley for fixing his problem. He knew too that his life was going to be the way it should have always been.

The funny thing was, the wedding crowd didn’t follow the runaway couple, rather no sooner when David and Caroline cleared the threshold of the church that someone else entered the building.

A host of guys actually, all of them wafted the harden frat-bro mentality that should have made them sworn enemies to the lesbian throng, but something wasn’t right.

Jeff, wearing a red baseball cap and a tight polo shirt, smiled at the crowd of distressed dykes, knowing that Oliver Crawley’s magic had extended beyond Caroline. He watched a militant lesbian, blush as a hulking cowboy marched towards her, the maid of honour went giddy as she was swept up in the arms of some blue eyed, black haired hunk, and soon all the gay women surrendered as the men made their desires known. Some tore off their dresses, others hastily pulled down their trousers and in no time at all, they were kneeling or lying on the ground, salivating at the large cocks on display.

“No!” screamed Delia at the fully-fledged orgy commencing in the church “this was supposed to be my wedding, the happiest day of my life, what are you all doing?”

Jeff grinned as he strode forward and grunted “Hey woman!”

The statement made something in Delia’s reptile brain snap and she spun round at this command.

“What?” she spat but her face flushed red giving away her growing desire.

“Shut up!” snorted Jeff as he grabbed her and crushed her womanly body against his masculine frame.

It was too much for her, wasn’t it? The manly scent, the take charge no bullshit attitude, his sheer maleness overpowered her, and the former lesbian melted in his tight embrace.

Life was never better.

It was like having your most cherished dream, the one you had given up as dead suddenly come true.

David awoke each day to see his devoted wife smiling back at him. Like falling in love all over again.

Lying on the sofa together or holding hands. Enjoying each other’s company even more than before.

The sex was thrilling too, no longer was Caroline a reluctant love maker, rather she was as eager and insatiable as David, she called his name, dug her toes into the mattress as he shot his load home.

The lesbian in her was defeated, only heterosexuality remained, and thank God for that.

And what a pleasure it was to see his wife’s formerly flat belly slowly rise as their first baby was on its way.

He and Caroline were going to live happily ever after, after all.

Oliver Crawley smiled as he finished reading the generous thank you card sent by David Stilton and felt the approving glow of another mission successfully completed.

“Just doing my duty,” he remarked as he placed the card upon the windowsill with the others.

“Say Oliver,” asked a silver bearded companion sitting to his right “just what spell did you cast to make a whole crowd of lesbians as straight as arrows.”

Mr. Crawley bit his lip before replying “it’s quite simple, I call it the placebo.”

Silence as the other man stared at him before bursting out into laughter.

“Of course,” chortled his friend “the boys acted as tough and as manly as they could and any woman, no matter how gay, broke down and flung themselves at the feet of their masters. Oh please!”

“Well why not?” said Mr. Crawley as he sipped his tea “why not?”