The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Denise exhaled loudly as she fit the key into the lock. It had been crummy day. As she entered the apartment she took off her white nurse’s cap and placed it on the table by the entryway. She turned left into the living room and sank into her chair, a recliner, which had been Harry’s chair before she arrived and claimed it. Denise still had her shared apartment, but spent most, almost all, of her nights here at Harry’s. It was a much nicer apartment for one thing, larger, roomier, she didn’t have to share it with the girls and most of all, it was nice being catered to.

Harry’s head popped out from around the wall to the kitchen.

“Hey babe” he said “want a beer?”

Denise reclined back into the cushions. “OH, yes.”

Harry returned with a can of ale and a can opener, he wore a frilly pink and white apron over his dress shirt and tie. Denise liked the way he looked; it was just silly enough for her tastes. Harry punctured both sides of the can and handed it to Denise, then knelt by her side. “Dinner will be ready soon “he said “Can I get you anything else.

“No” she leaned back and took a long appreciative sip of ale. “But you can massage my feet.”

Harry carefully unlaced first one then the other of her crepe soled white shoes. He pressed his fingertips into the sole of her left foot, massaging gently, but firmly.

“Tough day he asked.

Denise nodded. “Dr. Teitlebaum is brilliant” she sighed “or at least he will tell you so, again and again. He talks to me and all the other nurses like we are idiots. The new resident spends most of his time trying to look up our skirts and checking out our breasts. He hit on Doris today” Denise took a contemplative sip of beer. “Not that I think Doris minded so much.” For that matter, she reflected, there had been times when Denise didn’t mind a doctor’s advances herself.

She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and sighed in contentment as Harry ran his thumbs down the center of her right foot, to the exact right spot. She spent a lot on her feet at work, consequentially; over the past months she had carefully taught Harry how to massage her feet. She hardly ever had to punish him for doing it wrong anymore.

Harry continued to press on and rub her feet. He liked her feet. Harry leaned forward, and with a glance at her, kissed one foot, then the other. Never in a million years would Harry have predicted that he would find himself on his knees, in a pink apron kissing the feet of a lounging woman. He mentally shrugged because never in a billion years would he have predicted how much he would enjoy it. He even found the heavy, sweat smell, with its hint of leather from her shoes, arousing. He was getting horny right then. He looked up at her, lounging back, relaxed above him, eyes closed.

Slowly, lovingly, he kissed his way up the bottom of her foot, then her shin. She reached over to the end table next to her and pulled out a cigarette. Harry kissed his way up until his face was between her legs, his busy hands massaging her thighs.

Hearing no protests from Denise, Harry nibbled at the inside of Denise’s thigh. He was close enough to smell the intoxicating aroma of her sex. He smiled to himself; she was aroused as he was. The knowledge gave him a strange sense of accomplishment. She had done so much for him. He loved the way she tasted, adored the hearty, musky tang of her scent. He simply adored her, Harry reflected, as he reached up and with a practiced hand undid the snaps of her garter belt. He chuckled softly to himself. That practiced ease with a woman’s underclothes was just another thing he had to thank Denise for.

Denise smiled at Harry’s chuckle as she lit her cigarette. It was a strange thing; she had fantasized for years about having a man at her mercy. She would make him the whipping boy for every man who had stood her up, treated her badly; every man who had used her for sex, although in her most quiet moments, she acknowledged that she had only used them for sex herself. That, of course, had no effect on her fantasies. She had dreamed in great detail of how she would torment, punish, humiliate this hypothetical man. Now she had Harry in exactly that position, and somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Well, not much anyway, there were a few things, like the apron.

Harry finished with her garter straps and she lifted her ass up, taking the cue he pulled her panties down and off her feet. Harry leaned forward and gently kissed her pussy. He paused and inhaled as though savoring a fine vintage. He ran his tongue down along her nether lips, then back up, his questing tongue licked into her as deeply as he could. Denise arched her back in pleasure, and took a long drag from her cigarette; her exhalation was long and trailed off into a delicate moan. “Oh yeah” she sighed “Good boy!”

As Harry continued to probe her, she continued to moan. Denise had the presence of mind to place her cigarette on the lip of the ashtray. She gasped as Harry found her clit. Soon she was writhing in her chair. Harry was licking her now in long sweet strokes. A minute later, moaning, she grabbed Harry by the back of his head, grinding herself into his tongue his lips his face. Her lower lip was clenched between her teeth, a look of concentration on her face. Then her body was writhing and jumping as she came.

Harry sat back on his heels with a satisfied, slightly smug smile. Denise, laying back and catching her breath thought he looked charming. “I better get dinner before it burns. “He said.

“Screw dinner” Denise said returning his smile “No, come here and screw me!” Harry climbed up the chair onto her. Their mouths met in passion and need her hands on each side of his face. Harry moved his body and easily slid into Denise, who was wet with her own juices and Harry’s saliva. Denise allowed herself to sink into the soft cushions of the couch. To let herself melt and mold around Harry’s thrusting body until she was pushing violently desperately back as he pushed down into her. “Oh, yeah…” she moaned, eyes closed “Good boy, Harry! Good boy!” It seemed to drive Harry t an even higher level as he fucked into her franticly. Then Denise was cumming, cumming again and as she arched her back upward she murmured “Cum on, cum for me Harry.” And he did, violently gloriously. As they lay there in the aftermath, Denise enjoying the feel of Harry still on her, the warmth and closeness she thought “who cares about dinner”. She might not even spank him for ruining it…

Three days later Harry was at his desk when his intercom rang. It was Cathy, his boss’ secretary. “He’d like to see you, Harry.” She said.

Harry hit the button “I’ll be right there.” He replied. Harry’s stomach lurched. What could his boss want he wondered? He hadn’t screwed up in a while.

As he entered Roger Talbot’s office, Harry nervously pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Talbot sat at his desk, fiddling with his pipe. “Sit down Harry” he said gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Talbot glanced at the pack of luckys in Harry’s hand. He appeared thoughtful.

“Smoke em if you got em.” Talbot said. He picked up a lighter discretely engraved with the Marine Corps logo.

Harry regarded Roger Talbot. He was a tall man, heavily built. His large horn rim glasses were pressed tightly on his face. His hair was cut in that type of crew cut referred to as a “mighty fine”. His three buttoned suit jacket was tightly buttoned. Everything about Talbot was tightly buttoned, totally controlled. The sparingly used pipe was his only vice. He didn’t drink, gamble or cheat on his wife. His smiles were closely rationed, his habits precise. Harry had often heard him speak of his two children, but had no idea what their names were. Talbot always referred to them only as “my boy” or “my girl”. He seemed to strive for a life that was totally predictable, obsessively normal.

Some of the guys liked to comment about just how tightly he seemed to live his life. They jokingly wondered if Talbot penciled into his schedule “fuck the wife on Thursday”. By a chance remark some time ago Harry learned Talbot had been a captain at the Chosin resevior. So Harry understood, he’d known, knew men like Talbot. It was just Talbot’s way of getting by, to cope, make it through. He was one of those guys who feared that if he relaxed, even for a moment, his white knuckled grip on things, he would never get it back and might spend the rest of his life screaming, or crying which was far worse.

Harry had never spoken to Talbot about Heartbreak Ridge, never spoken to anyone about, really. But, it occurred to him that Talbot would have access to his personnel records, would know of his affiliation with the Ninth and about the medal. From there he could tell the dates of Harry’s service and would know; would know and understand what had happened in those hills to the Ninth. He abruptly recognized Talbot’s long suffering patience with Harry’s job performance for what it was; the sympathy of a former denizen of one circle of hell for a former denizen of another.

Harry’s musings were interrupted by the realization that Talbot was regarding him with narrow, contemplative eyes. Harry recognized that look; it was one that Harry’s own face had worn when regarding a replacement NCO to his unit. It was an attempt to read a man’s soul; would he fit in with the unit, would the guys follow him, would he be more of a worry than usual, would he break on the firing line? Harry felt uneasy as he puffed on his cigarette.

After a long moment Talbot spoke through the haze of smoke.

“Harry” he said “I’ve noticed you work over the past few months and I have to say I am impressed.”

Harry felt his shoulders relax, he exhaled smoke and tension.

Talbot gave him the ghost of a smile. “You have really turned it around.”

“Thanks Roger.” Harry smiled ‘Amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for you.”

Talbot looked at him, vaguely confused. “Yes, of course.” He said. He paused then went on. “Harry you know that Gene Laarson is leaving us soon. I want you to take his position.”

Harry blinked in surprise.

“It’s more work and responsibility and more money of course. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes Roger” Harry nodded. “I think I can.”

Roger nodded. “Keep on working the way you have and you will be fine.” He stood and Harry followed suit. Talbot stepped around the desk extended his hand which Harry shook. “We have Gene for another week or so. I’ve already talked to him. Starting tomorrow I want you to sit with him so he can train you.” Talbot regarded him. “Good luck, harry, do well and this could be the first step for you.” He nodded. “I think you’ve turned a corner.”

Harry walked out of the office smiling. A promotion and he knew who he had to thank for it—Denise.

On the way home harry stood looking in the store window. He had stopped here before and contemplated the contents of the window several times. He decided today was THE day. He walked up, opened the door and went in…

Denise was wiped as she opened the door. It had been a crummy day. A patient vomited all over the front of her uniform (better adjust THAT medication); the head nurse had dressed her down for something that wasn’t her fault, and there was a rumor going around that the new resident was doing her. She didn’t know why people always liked to talk about her, but it seemed like they did. Now, not only was she getting suggestive leers from the orderlies but Doris was suddenly mad at her. Which she reflected Doris should know better, the intern wasn’t her type, besides men didn’t “do” Denise, she “did” men. Additionally, she thought, she had taken herself out of circulation, well at least for now.

On top of all this, she hardly ever got to do hypo- therapy anymore. Thank God for Harry, if it wasn’t for her frequent practice with him she would be concerned that her skills were getting rusty

So all in all she was happy to be home. Her feet hurt, she just wanted to relax and have dinner. From where she stood in the hall she could see into the kitchen. She frowned, the table was made up with a fancy cloth, there was an un-lit candle in the middle of it. Denise walked slowly into the kitchen. Harry smiled broadly at her as she entered. He turned from the counter, a bottle of Chianti and two glasses in his hand. She walked over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Harry put the wine down and set the glasses before the two places at the table. He took out a pack of matches, leaned over and lit the candle.

“What is this about?” Denise gestured to the table.

Harry straightened and smiled mysteriously. “A very special occasion.” He said.

“Which is?” Denise inquired.

“Well I wanted to wait after dinner. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Denise shook her head. “I hate surprises.” She stared at Harry. “So what is it?”

Harry beamed at her. “OK, you insisted” he said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, black box.

“Oh God, no.” Denise thought at the sight of the box. “Not today, I am so not ready for this. Not any day!”

Oblivious to the expression on her face, Harry got down on his knee, opened the box and showed Denise the ring. “Denise” he said formally “Will you marry me.”

Denise looked down at him. She had a real weakness for him when he was on his knees before her. She looked at him, almost sadly. For a moment, just for a moment…

But No! Denise gathered all the hurt and disappointment from all the men in her life, all the pain she had ever had and wrapped it around her like a cloak. She blinked “why?’ She said simply, her mouth a straight line, firmly closed.

Harry looked up at her bewildered. “Because, I love you, and you’ve done so much for me and because…”

“No Harry” Denise cut him off coldly. “Why do you want to ruin this, what we have, why do you want to ruin us?”

Harry stood slowly, which made it easier for Denise, and spoke quietly. “I don’t want to ruin it; I want to make it even better.”

“Better? Better?” Denise laughed. “How does this make it “better”? Tell me Harry” she continued speaking in a low, harsh, tone that was more effective than yelling would ever be. “do you want us to move into the suburbs? Live happily ever after?” Have me quit work to wash your underwear? She laughed even more harshly at the idea. “Can you see me in pearls, Harry; can you just imagine it, at the PTA luncheon?”

“Is that what you want Harry? “ She spoke louder now, loud and hard stepping forward aggressively. “Did you really think I could fit in a white picket fence? Did you think that would make me happy, did you even care?

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” His voice was low, but no less intense. “I don’t want you to change who you are, you can still work…”

“Oh that’s very big of you Harry! You are too damn kind! Do you even know me at all? Have we met Harry?”

Harry looked away, then back at her standing there combatively. “What is it really?” he said

Quietly. What’s going on with you?”

Denise continued like she hadn’t even heard him. “Shall I change my life for you Harry? Be the little woman? The Missus?” She paused for a long moment, then continued in that low, hard voice that was somehow weary too now.

“And then what happens Harry, maybe years from now, maybe not, when you decide to leave? When you are tired of me? When I’m too old for you, or not what you want. What happens to me then?”

Harry shook his head. “That won’t happen.”

Denise stepped even closer, eyes wide in derision. “It will happen! Men always get tired.” She poked him in the chest to emphasis her words. “Men always leave!”

“Not all men.” Harry said quietly.

“Really” Denise said in mock surprise. “Glad to hear your experience is different from mine.” She started to walk away, turned. “But tell me, how many men have YOU fucked.”

“I’m going to my apartment.” With that Denise turned and left. She didn’t come back that night. Harry drank the bottle of Chianti by himself…

Harry sat miserably at his desk late afternoon on the next day. His phone rang, he picked it up.

“Hi Harry” he heard.

“Denise!” Harry all but shouted. “I’m sorry, forget I asked, I…”

“SHHHHHH” Harry could almost hear Denise’s smile over the phone. “I thought about this long and hard last night and I think I have a way to make me certain of you. A way to make this work” She paused “That is if you really want to.”

“I do” he said “Very much, but what…” Harry inquired puzzled.

“Grab a burger tonight after work. I want you at the apartment late.”

“OK, but…”

“No buts” Denise all but purred. “Just do it. Oh and Harry?”

“Yes Denise?”

“I love you.” There was a soft click as she hung up the phone.