The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1: The finding

“Goddamn it!” I thought as I wiped yet another spider web off my face. “I’m getting too fucking old for this shit.”

I was on my belly, squirming my way through a crawl space that seemed to go on forever.

“How many times did they add on to this house?” I mumbled to no one in particular, particularly because there was no one else there.

If you are unfamiliar with crawl spaces, let me tell you that they are either damp or dusty to the point of distraction, and every time someone adds on to their house they scab the two foundations together and knock an access hole from the old crawl space to the new in order to run the duct work. Usually just big enough for the duct work. Meaning, to get from one area to the other was always a tight squeeze.

This crawl space was of the damp variety and I had already been through three such access holes and since the last foundation wall I went through was made up of field stones I guessed this part of the house to be about 100 yrs old. I considered this verified by what had to be a hundred year buildup of spider webs and bug carcasses. I had been passing from the newest area of the house to the oldest and the older it got, the smaller the crawl space.

In case you are wondering why I was in a crawl space, I occasionally work in them.

My job is installing burglar and fire alarm systems. Running wires through homes entails a lot of attic and/or crawl space work. Both are a pain in the ass for someone my size. I am 6′1″ and weigh about 225 lbs. I am not fat, don’t have a gut or anything, but I do not have the fat to muscle ration I would really like. I am usually just too damned tired after work to work out so I am stuck with a small spare tire.

Hell, let me just tell you all about myself and get that part over with—I am 45 yrs old, married, 2 boys (teenagers now) and just a normal blue-collar guy. I had retired from the Marine Corps 5 yrs ago and took a job installing fire and burglar alarm systems in homes. I make about $1200 a month from my Marine pension, $15.00 an hour at this job and my wife makes $8.00 an hour as a clerk at Wal-Mart. I work as much overtime as I can get and volunteer for Saturday jobs whenever they come up. We usually bring in just over $3000 a month after taxes, health insurance 401k’s and other deductions. Between the mortgage, car payments, insurance, various credit cards and other household bills we barely have enough for groceries. Seemed like I always had enough, but just enough. There was never any extra.

Enough whining—back to the story.

This installation hadn’t been too bad until now. The house was sort of out in the sticks and seemed to have started life as a small cabin on a lake. As the value of lake property went up so did the size of the house. The crawl spaces in the newer areas were actually pretty big, but there was one door down at this end of the house and the wire was already pushed down through the door jamb, all I had to do was get it and get out of here.

The ground had gone from damp to muddy as I finally reached the wall where the wire should be. I took my bearings, moved to where I should find it, twisted as best I could to my side and reached up into some insulation that looked to be about 50 yrs old. I found the wire, pulled on it and it came pretty easily. At least that ditzy woman hadn’t closed the door on the wire.

The floor joists ran perpendicular to the way I had to go so I started drilling holes so I wouldn’t have to come back and staple it up after I had it pulled to length. (I know, I could just let it lay, but I take more pride in my work than that.) About half way through - just when I started to notice the dampness soaking through my coat (as I was now on my back) and my mouth, nose and eyes were all suffering from the effects of the mud falling off my drill and the dust falling out of the floor joists—I saw what seemed to be an access hatch. I got my bearings again and I realized that it would be in the small closet in the master bedroom, which back when this was a newer house would have been the living room. I had checked that, looking for an easier way to get to this wire, and there was no hatch on the upper side, at least they hadn’t accommodated it when they laid down the hardwood floor. It was just something else to irritate me.

As I was drilling holes in the joists passing this old hatch the drill bit hit something that rang like metal as it broke through the wood. I wiggled around to see what happened and saw that someone had nailed a two-by-twelve board between the joists in order to form a small shelf. It was set back about 8 inches from the hatch opening and I figured one could have easily opened the hatch and reached down to the shelf, but no one would have seen it without dropping down into the space.

Reaching up into the spider webs (ick) I felt a metallic object. I pulled it out. It looked like an old brass gravy boat or cream pitcher of some kind (at least that’s what it looked like to me).

Now this is part I am sort of ashamed of. I don’t usually steal things. In fact I hadn’t stolen anything since I was 14. But I was dirty, wet, cold, tired and pissed. I’d been busting my ass 5-6 days a week and still struggling to make ends meet. I knew that the owners of this house had just bought it as part of an estate sale and while technically they now also owned this, they didn’t know it. I thought I could polish it up and maybe get $50 or $60 on E-Bay for this “antique.”

I worked my way out of the crawl bringing that wire to join the rest of the wire bundle that I would then pull up to where the alarm panel was located. I stuffed the antique into my coat right before I left the crawl space and headed for my truck. While cleaning the mud and spider webs off my face and out of my hair I slipped it under the seat and went back to finish the installation.

The rest of the day went fairly well. I only hurt myself three times and only once requiring a band-aid. Overall I liked my job but I am not the most graceful person, especially around tools.

As I often did during my longer drives home I reflected a bit about where I was in my life. I knew that I had no one to blame for my situation except myself. I could have gone to college and followed a much more lucrative career path. But when I was young, partying and chasing girls was so much more important. I finally found myself homeless in Florida in the early 80’s and that was when I joined the Marines. That got me off the street and they really turned me around physically. I was pretty skinny and pathetic when I joined. After a couple of years as a grunt I retrained into an electronics repair specialty. With that going for me I landed in this job when I had retired. It wasn’t so bad, but I wish my wife didn’t have to work to help out.

On the plus side, had I not gone the way I had, I never would have met the woman I just referred to, Maria.

I had met Maria in Japan during my first assignment there. She is from the Philippines and as far as I am concerned that country harbors some of the most beautiful women in the world. She was 19 and a knock out when we were married, but now, after almost 20 yrs of marriage and giving birth and breast-feeding 2 boys she was showing the wear and tear.

Don’t get me wrong. I love her as much or more now than when we married. Her face is still drop-dead gorgeous, but she does have a bit of a paunch she was never really able to get rid of after the boys were born and her tits aren’t as self-buoyant as they used to be. But she is still very attractive and I catch guys looking at her all the time. The best part about Maria is her libido. She actually has a hard time sleeping if we don’t have sex—though, that can get a bit tiresome at my age. Up until a few years ago if you had said that there would come a day when I would rather read in bed than fuck, I would have said you were nuts.

Without Maria I wouldn’t have Craig and Tim. Craig is 17 and Tim is 14. And they are pretty good kids. They take martial arts and do decent in school. I am proud of them because so far they seem to have avoided the drugs and booze that led me down some paths I now wish I had avoided. I would prefer they did better in school or at least had a better attitude about it.

Focusing on the positive had me feeling a bit better by the time I pulled into the driveway. I went inside, greeted the family and ate dinner.

When I came out of the shower that night Maria was waiting for me in bed. She had slipped a porno movie into the VCR while I showered and now looked at me expectantly. I moved down between her legs and tried not to notice the negative aspects of her body.

What I focused on was her wonderful pussy. It is small and pink and never smells or tastes bad. Her lips are a slightly darker brown than her skin and the edges of them are just a little darker than that. When I spread the lips it looks as though she has applied hi-liter around her pussy.

I started a slow licking up and down just the way she likes it. Every time I got to the top I would cut back and forth across her clit once or twice and then lick back down the length of her pussy. As soon as she began to get really warmed up I flattened my tongue against her pussy and moved it in small circles while my upper lip rubbed her clit. It didn’t talk long before she was coming and had raised her ass off the bed and locked her legs around my neck. I kept pressure on her pussy until she relaxed and then a gentle licking brought her down slowly.

“Okay,” she said, “now its my turn.”

I climbed up the bed and lay on my back. Another great thing about Maria was that to her sex was a very giving thing. When she came she considered it giving me her orgasm and vice verse. Likewise she considered a blowjob as me allowing her to enjoy my cock and me eating her pussy her allowing me to enjoy it. And I did. And she certainly enjoyed my dick.

Her being small, we had developed a very nice position for a blowjob. She would sit Indian style and I would lay back with my butt in her lap. My legs to either side of her meant her tits were sandwiched between my legs and my balls sandwiched between her tits. With my nuts so encased she would suck on my cock, and, while she couldn’t actually deep throat, she could get it in pretty deep. She had great technique, which included her tongue in constant motion on the part of my dick in her mouth while her lips slid up and down. She had also learned to reach up and manipulate my nipples while doing this. She would do this for me most nights when she had her period. She never let me come in her mouth but she would hold my cock and lick it while I shot onto my stomach. I was a lucky man to have a wife who, when she got PMS, just got hornier.

But tonight she was intent on getting fucked. So after sucking me for a while she got up and straddled me. Her tight little pussy smoothly engulfed my rigid cock. As was usual, within a few seconds of impaling herself she had another small orgasm. She worked her pussy around on my dick and I made it throb and jump inside her pussy in the way I knew she liked.

I liked it with her on top because her tits took on the shape they enjoyed years ago. I played with them while she moved on top of me and the hotter she got the rougher I got. She didn’t like it rough until she was really worked up and then it really sent her if I pinched her nipples (not real hard but hard enough) or bit her lip. I saw her eyes start to lose focus while my thumbs were rolling her nipples.

Her hands on my shoulders began to squeeze almost painfully and I knew she was about to have a big one. Her movements became faster. I reached around and grabbed her ass. She never did develop a fat ass, for which I was also grateful since I have always been an ass man.

“I’m coming!” She kept saying over and over between moans.

I laid one finger across her asshole and that triggered the orgasm.

“OH! I’m mmmmmmm!” She moaned as it hit her and she held her breath for a long time. Her body went rigid and she squeezed my shoulders. Her head was thrown back and she was trying not to make too much noise. She finally dropped her head forward and her body relaxed as she collapsed onto me. She started nuzzling my neck murmuring, “I love you, that felt so good. How do you do that to me?”

“Because I love you.” I said.

She always asks those questions and I always give those answers.

“Is that all I get tonight or do you want more?” I asked her this because some nights she wants a few more like that one.

“That’s it,” she pants, “I’m finished.” She rolled over onto her back.

I rolled with her and ended up in the missionary position. I stroked slowly enjoying the soft friction of her pussy. She crossed her arms with her tits trapped between them, pushing them up. Her hands caressed my chest while I stroked. She moved her hips slightly and I could feel her bearing down on my cock with her pussy muscles. This added to her enjoyment as well and I can usually count on one or two more orgasms while I build up to my own. When she had an orgasm her pussy would grab my cock like a fist. This time it was her second orgasm that sent me over the edge and I slowed my pace to try and prolong it. Finally I rammed into her as deep as I could go and shot my cum into her awaiting pussy. She pulled me down into a hard embrace, both of us declaring our love for the other.

After I rolled off of her she went into the bathroom to clean up. This was all very pleasant, I mused, but it is the same thing every night, except for the actual number of orgasms Maria has, the script never varies.

She came back to bed and we snuggled up together. Her breathing told me she was asleep and I was about to slip off myself when I remembered the object under my truck seat. I carefully got out of bed and headed for the garage.

I got it from under the seat and took it down to my workshop in my basement. Under the bright light of my workbench I saw that the brass had actually survived quite well. I had anticipated a lot of elbow grease with polishing compounds but there only seemed to be a little tarnish. As I wiped off more of the grime I realized that it was far too shiny to be brass.

Shit, I wasn’t too worried about unloading a hot brass knick-knack, but this was gold!

I also realized that it wasn’t a gravy boat or cream pitcher either. It was an old-fashioned oil lamp.

I continued cleaning it and just as I was finishing it became very warm to the touch and a little trickle of smoke came out of the spout. I set it down quickly and reached for the small fire extinguisher I keep by my workbench (I told you I’m not all that graceful).

The trickle quickly became a stream. But it didn’t behave as you would expect smoke to behave. Instead of spreading out across the ceiling it coalesced into a ball. Finally the smoke stopped coming out. The ball elongated into an egg shape and then the top of the egg started to look like a head. Shoulders appeared then arms and a torso. The smoky shape then solidified into the upper half of a man.

He looked sort of like Mr. Clean. In fact he looked exactly like Mr. Clean, t-shirt, ear ring and all, which I would have considered odd had he not materialized out of smoke and was right now half a body floating in my workshop on a cushion of that same coherent smoke. Those two items took precedent in my “isn’t that odd” thought process.

Just as I was about to ask what the hell was going on I realized that I knew exactly what was going on. I knew what he was, what he was going to say and what I was expected to do. I also knew that it was impossible. It suddenly dawned on me what was really going on. I had to be...

“You are not dreaming.” He said, calmly. “I am what I appear to be.”

“Okay,” I managed, “what... do you think... that I think... you appear to be.” I still didn’t believe it.

“You are going to make me say it aren’t you?” He sighed, and then continued in bored voice, “I am the Jinni of the lamp—I am at your command—thank you for freeing me master—you may have three wishes - yada, yada, yada....”

“You don’t have so sarcastic about it,” I said, suddenly a little miffed, “This is the first time I ever saw a Jinni.”

“It always is.” He said, “Shall we get on with it?”

“Not so fast, how does this work?” I was stalling, trying to get my head straight. I thought knew what I was supposed to do but I didn’t want to operate off balance and screw it up.

“How does what work?” He replied. I have always hated people who answer questions with questions. I was acclimating quickly to the situation and my brain was racing.

“This whole, lamp, Jinni, I’m the master and three wishes thing.”

“You possess the lamp, therefore I am yours to command. I have the magical ability to grant you three wishes. You may begin your wishes at any time.” He was becoming a little less snide about the whole thing.

“When you say that you are mine to command,” I said trying not to miss anything, “is that just the wishes?”

“No, you can give me indefinite non-magical commands for as long as you possess the lamp. For example, if you ‘wish’ for a feast, I will conjure the largest most delicious feast you have ever seen. If you command me to prepare you a feast I will do so, however, I will have to do all the preparation in a more mundane manner. I wouldn’t recommend that, I am a horrible cook.”

“So what happens to you after the three wishes?”

“Generally, the possessor of the lamp orders me to return to the lamp, I must obey for the possessor still commands me. The lamp is then discarded for the next person to find.”

“So, I can give the lamp to someone else?”

“No, the lamp must be found by someone, unknown to the previous holder, who has no idea what it is he or she has found. Otherwise the magic will not manifest. There are the rules to the use and dispensation of magic. This is to ensure use of magic is rare and well dispersed thus preventing chaos”

I suddenly realized he was right. I could imagine folks lined up waiting for their turn at the lamp. Everyone would be wishing to be richer and more powerful than the one before him or her. So, I had to be careful, I couldn’t tell anyone about this because they would want the lamp, and giving it to them would do them no good.

“Are there rules about the wishes?”

“For a wish to be considered a wish, it must be a single, concise sentence beginning with the words ‘I wish...’ I will then grant your desire.”

He seemed to be less sarcastic but was still very haughty. I suddenly had a thought about all the Jinni tales I had heard.

“What about you twisting my wish and turning it into something that is really horrible?”

“That is possible,” he replied with a slight grin, “it depends upon how irritated I become with you.”

“And you have to follow my non-magical orders?”

“Yes”

“So, give me a few examples of how you could twist a wish, and I order you to tell the truth.”

“Well,” he began, but he didn’t look happy, “if you were to wish for millions of dollars, I could magically arrange for you to inherit or win the money or I could just make the money disappear from a bank vault and appear here, you would suddenly be in possession of a lot of money you couldn’t explain, and by spending it, some of it would eventually be traced back to the ‘robbery’ and you would go to jail. Another example would be if you wished to be irresistible to women—I could follow the spirit of that wish causing any woman you desired to succumb to your will, or I could grant the wish literally, causing all women to persistently, and possibly violently, pursue you.”

He continued impatiently, “Is that enough? Will you please get on with the wishing and let me return to my lamp.”

“It must be very comfortable in there if you want to go back so badly.”

“It is not. It is cold, dark, cramped—even for my ethereal form - and worse, it is boring. But it is my curse and when you get what you want I will be forced to return until someone else frees me for a short torturous foray into the outside world.”

“One more question,” I said, “how come you look like someone out of a TV commercial?”

“As I was forming I quickly scanned your mind for the language and cultural details I would need in order to communicate with you, I also chose a form from your memory. I could have chosen a form closer to your perceptions of a Jinni,” as he was saying this he morphed from Mr. Clean into the Jinni from Disney’s Aladdin complete with Robin Williams’ voice, then into Barbara Eden in her ‘Jeanie’ outfit and then back into Mr. Clean, “but I dislike stereotypes.” He concluded.

I was realizing many things right about now: First, this was an incredible opportunity; Second, I wasn’t going to ruin it by rushing into these wishes; Third and most important, I was tired and had to work in the morning.

“I tell you what,” I said, “Why don’t you take tonight and tomorrow to look around the ‘outside’ world and I’ll get back to you tomorrow night with the wishes.”

My head was spinning as I returned to bed, and it took a long time to fall asleep.