The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It started at the gym. I was nearing the end of my workout and had just moved on to the incline board to do a set of sit ups when she came over. I’d noticed her several times before—with that body, it’d be difficult not to. Usually, she’d do a circuit on the machines in the back of the studio, and then I’d see her later, talking one guy or another as they walked out of the main room of the gym together. I’d nicknamed her “bodysuit girl” in that way that you tend to name people you see around your life but never actually approach. The name reflected her outfit—whenever I saw her in the gym she was dressed the same way—in a skin tight brown bodysuit. It was one piece, with a shiny silver zipper down the front, from the neck to her midriff. She was about five foot five, with smooth, straight, brown hair, and a wicked smile. Her skin was smooth, buttery tan, and glistened with the sweat from her workout.

I was aware of her presence as she watched my first set of sit ups. When I finished, I laid back, and put my head on the board. I was still catching my breath when she took a step forward, stood over me, and began to talk.

“Hi,” she said. “You’re doing that wrong. Do you want to know how to really work your abs?”

She was gorgeous.

“Sure” I replied, between breaths.

“The whole trick with sit ups is to do them slowly. No matter how slowly you do them, you can always do them even more slowly. Then you’ll really feel them burn.”

In a slightly bewildered voice, I got out an “Ok. Thanks.” and began my second set. She immediately moved to the foot of the inclined board and stood above me, affording me a view of her chest. I continued my repetitions.

“No!” she barked, “Slower.”

I slowed down.

“No. Even slower,” came her reply. I obeyed, and it seemed like time stood still as I made my way through the next crunch.

“Slower.” she kept repeating, and each time she said it, I felt my myself growing firmer. “Breath through it,” she said, and I did.

I continued my set, my abs not the only part of me now burning.

When I laid back down (“Slower” she said again.) I could see that the clasp on the zipper on her body suit was lower now, at her breastbone, and her glistening breasts were starting to push out the top. When I was fully on my back, she leaned further over, and her breasts bulged out a bit more. I was fully hard now.

“Very good” she said, extending a hand to help me up.

“Um, thanks” was all I could manage.

“You look tired,” she said. “All done with your workout?” I nodded a yes.

“Follow me.” she said, and it was all I could do to follow her into the locker area.

She passed the regular locker rooms and entered the doorway of one of the training rooms they have in the back. “Come on in,” she said, smiling now, “I won’t bite”.

She motioned for me to sit on the table, and as I did, she shut the door behind us. And then she pulled the zipper on her bodysuit all the way down to her navel. Her pert breasts bounced free, glistening with sweat. I could smell her. I was hard as a rock and alone with this beautiful stranger.

“Mmmm,” she moaned as she began to slowly massage her nipples.

“Now,” she said, looking straight at me with her soft eyes, “I want you stroke yourself.”

Sheepishly, I complied, and she resumed her massage and her moaning. Her right hand was massaging her breast as her left now moved toward her midsection. As her moaning grew louder, I let go of myself.

And she stopped. She looked at me again. She looked straight through me.

“No.” she said, “If you want me to continue, you must continue.”

My hand made it’s way back to my pants, and she resumed her dance. In a moment, she was out of her bodysuit entirely, naked before me.

My pace quickened.

“No,” she said again, “Not yet. Slower”.

And I slowed my stroking.

“Slower” she said, as she moved the fingers on her left hand into herself.

“Not yet. Slower” she said, as she explored every inch of her body.

Each time I heard her say slower, I complied. Between each of her moans, “Slower.”

I pulling myself from base to stem now. She looked at me and said, softly, “Soon. But only when I say so.” and I knew it to be true.

“Slower.” I stroked, knowing that I was in her power.

“Slower,” she said, “feel your balls slowly contracting.”

She began to moan more loudly.

“Slower,” she said, “and I will let you come soon.”

“Come for me. Release now.” she said, and I did.

And she turned away from me, dressed in her bodysuit again, and quietly left the room.

I didn’t see her again for a while, but them, one day, there she was again. I was back at the gym, going through my workout, when I saw her in the corner of the room. Still in her bodysuit, still nicely cut, and still able to get me excited just at the mere thought of her. I put her out of my mind and moved over to the bench press. I laid on my back, and focused on the task at hand. I was in the middle of my second set, when chest started to burn. I closed my eyes and focused that much harder on the weights. “Five more reps” I told myself. Eyes closed, focused on the task at hand “Four more”.

“Slower.” I heard a voice say.

Without thinking, my arms slowed, and I grew hard.

“Slower” I heard again. I opened my eyes and there she was, standing behind the head of the table. I put the weight down on the crossbars above me and I blushed. Here I was, in a public gym, flat on my back, pitching a tent for all the world to see. I was nervous.

“Slower” she said, and my breathing slowed. “Get up” she said, and I did. “Come with me” she said, and I did. This woman—I didn’t know her name, just her scent, and yet now my body was hers. I followed her to the back again, towards the trainers room. I was hard again, and I ached. This time, when we entered the training room, we weren’t alone—there was another woman her. She was blond, young, and had smile that made me hurt even more. She was naked.

The woman who brought me here looked back at me after locking the door behind us. Then she looked at the other woman and kissed her, hard on the mouth. She slipped out of her bodysuit. “Stroke now” she said, looking through me, and I did.

The two women began to explore each other. They kissed, they fondled.

Bodysuit girl looked at me and said “Slower”, and then she got down on her knees and began to eat the other women, who moaned softly. She ran her tongue everywhere, and while her hands worked the other woman’s tight ass.

Then she paused. “Not yet” she said to me, before trading places with her friend.

Now she was in ecstasy, as her friend worked her over.

“Keep stroking, but not yet.” She said, as they continued to lick and fondle every inch of each other.

And then, just as quickly as this began, they both stood straight up. “Now stop.” she said, looking through me again. And I did. “Go, and do not come.” she said, and pointed to the door.

I hit the men’s locker room and raced home in record time. And then I started to masturbate again. And I couldn’t come.

Dinnertime, and I couldn’t come.

The evening news on TV, and I couldn’t come.

Leno’s monologue, the end of the day, and still I was wide awake, and I couldn’t come.

The phone rang and I picked it up.

“Slower” said her voice, and my hardness hurt even more. “Stroke” said her voice, and I did.

“Now,” she said, “you can only come when I say so.” And I knew it to be true. And I stroked. “No matter how hot the woman, no matter how many, or how willing, only when I say so.”

I continued to stroke. It hurt so much now.

“Slower” she drawled.

“Now,” she said, “I’m going to demonstrate this to you, and let you come soon.”

“Slower”

“You may come in five...”

I continued to stroke, one hand on the phone, the other on myself.

“..slower... four...”

I felt myself tighten.

“...three...”

Tighter now, on the edge of control.

“...slower... two...”

Tighter now, on the edge of sanity, her voice my only release.

“One. Come for me.”

And I did, harder than ever before, as the telephone cracked the noise of a dead line.