The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I don’t know why I’m here for a man I barely remember, trying to look solemn dressed in my only black suit. My mother didn’t bother to come. When he left us fifteen years ago, when I was just four, she was all-in on being done with him. She said, “I don’t know who that is,” when the call came in, but I’m pretty sure her red eyes were from crying. Being a kid, I didn’t get any chance at closure. I hoped my being here would help to achieve some semblance of that, but I’m surrounded by his family, not mine. Strangers, all of them. He had an entire life that I wasn’t a part of and all being here does is make that all the more apparent. All the more painful. His widow looks not that much younger than me. Apparently, she was his third wife. They had met just a few years ago. He left his second wife and their three kids to be with her. My father had a habit of abandoning people. I feel a little less singled out knowing this.

At least it’s a nice day out. It helped that the invitation came with a plane ticket to get me here to California from my East Coast college and a week’s worth of a hotel stay. Back East, fall is already turning to Winter. Everyone is bundling up and here I am breaking a sweat standing outside in a cemetery on a green hill overlooking a freeway as the sun shines down from a cloudless sky.

When the ceremony ends, everyone drops a handful of dirt into the hole they’ve buried my father in. I try to picture his face, but can’t. Every memory of him is hazy at best. I’ll remember this dirt in my hand and the deep redwood of the casket more than I’ll remember the man.

As I’m walking back down the hill and loading up my Uber app, an older man comes up to me, and asks, “Wyatt, right?”

“Yeah.”

He holds out his hand. “I’m Sebastian Martinez, your father’s lawyer. I arranged your travel. Has everything been alright?”

“That all depends on your definition of alright, Mr. Martinez.”

“Right. Of course. Are you going to the wake?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know that I’m wanted there. I’m reasonably sure I’m not, really.”

“Hmm. Why don’t I give you a ride back to your hotel?”

“Thank you.”

The first few minutes of the car ride are spent in silence. The lawyer finally breaks that. “I don’t know if you’re expecting any sort of inheritance in terms of money—”

“I honestly didn’t know what to expect at all. I was surprised by the plane ticket and hotel room. I know almost nothing about my father. My mother preferred it that way.”

The lawyer nods earnestly. “What would you like to know?”

“Well, I’d like to know why he abandoned us, but I think that answer is buried in the ground right now.”

“Maybe.” The lawyer says in response. “I don’t know that I have all that much good news for you. Despite the fortune your father amassed, all of that has been designated to the families he built here. It was by my personal request to the family that your travel was paid for and they begrudgingly complied.”

“Thank you for that.”

“I wish it were more. I really do.”

We pull into the hotel parking lot and as I reach for the door handle to leave this man and this trip behind, he stops me. “There is one thing I have for you.” He holds a manila envelope out to me. “I have no idea what’s inside. Your father gave me very specific instructions that this should get to you informally, without the rest of the family’s knowledge, and that no one but you should break the seal. I hope whatever’s inside helps in some way.”

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I take the envelope. “And this.”

I grip the envelope in my hand as I walk through the lobby, ride up the elevator, and arrive at my room. Not knowing what’s inside, but feeling something weighty shifting with motion. I’m not keen on opening it in public, but curiosity burns me the whole time. As soon as the hotel room door closes behind me, I tear into it. I hear something plunk down to the floor as I pull out a few pages of loose-leaf paper. This is, I guess, what my father’s handwriting looks like. Barely legible. We have that in common. I look around the floor and find an odd-looking coin that must’ve been responsible for the heft of the envelope. While I’ve never seen a coin like it, and it looks like it’s incredibly old, it still shines like it was minted yesterday.

I read the note—

Dear Wyatt,

If you’re reading this, death has taken me and I can finally come clean to you, my firstborn son. I did not choose to leave you and your mother. That choice was made for me. This is something that I’m sure you’ll doubt as you read it, but I know that you will come to understand more clearly due to your newfound ownership of the Flipping Coin. While there are other magical coins in the world, and Lord knows I’ve come across a few of them, there are none like the Flipping Coin. I won it in a flip. One big piece of advice I have for you, never gamble more than you’re willing to lose. Never gamble your happiness and never gamble the Flipping Coin itself. I was foolish in my youth and I gambled my life with you and your mom. That is why I’ve been absent and these words, only passed along to you now, are the only ones you’ll ever get from me. You are hopefully old enough, kind enough, and smart enough to use this wisely. I’m not saying don’t have fun—this coin’s purpose is fun—just understand that everything, EVERYTHING has a cost.

The rules are simple. Heads or tails. You name what you get if you win, your opponent names what they get if they win. Try as best as you can to name first. The coin won’t let you wager something that isn’t relatively equal, so it helps if you set the stakes going in. I lost you by naming second. They set too high a stake for anything else. Learn from my mistake. It can control you as much as you control it. If you use this correctly, and the odds fall in your favor, you can live a life unlike anything you can dream of. Dream big, my son.

Your father,

Carl Turner

I can’t help but think that my father is not only a creep, but a louse, trying to sell me a barrel of shit to explain his own failings.

“Sure thing, ‘dad.’”

I pass the coin back and forth, from hand to hand.

“You know what? We’ll play it your way. Heads I believe everything in this note, tails I don’t.”

I flip the coin into the air. It lands on my hand, I put it on top of my other hand, and then reveal that it has come up—HEADS.

I believe him. My doubts have been obliterated. I don’t even understand how I could even have them previously. With this newfound perspective of good faith, I read the note again.

This coin could change everything in my life. I’ll need practice.

The Flipping Coin in hand, I head back down to the lobby and look for someone to chat up and engage in a flip.

I see a businessman approaching the hotel restaurant. I approach. “Excuse me, sir, could I interest you in a wager?”

“I really don’t have time to—” He starts.

I interrupt, holding the coin up in his view. “Heads, you buy my dinner and tails…”

“You buy mine,” he says with a smile.

I flip the coin up into the air. I reveal it to be—TAILS.

“What are you eating?”

He invites me to join him. We sit. We talk. I tell him why I’m in town. He says he’s in town looking at some potential property purchases. We finish our meals. When the check comes, my hand darts out to hastily grab it.

“I feel bad. What with why you’re in town and all…” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“You don’t understand. I have to buy your dinner.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “Can I leave the tip?”

I search inside and realize that apparently, he can. I grateful for the help because he didn’t hold back—appetizer, salad, surf and turf, dessert—you’d think it was his last meal on Earth. This really hammers home the idea of only betting what you’re willing to lose.

The businessman sees me moving the coin around in my fingers. “That for sale?”

“No. It’s all my father left me.”

“You want to wager on it? Heads you give me the coin and tails…”

Inside, I desperately want to say “no,” but the words, the wager, cannot be silenced. “You give me fifty thousand dollars.”

He nods.

I mechanically flip the coin into the air, my entire body acting seemingly without the input of my mind. I breathe a huge sigh of relief when it presents—TAILS.

“Seems like you’re getting that money you spent on dinner back and more! I have to run up to my room and grab a check. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

I’m now fifty grand richer, but I almost lost the coin. I couldn’t help myself. There clearly are rules my father didn’t outline in his note. Was it because he started the wager? Was it because the coin was out or could be seen? I’m afraid of all the things I don’t know. More practice is clearly needed.

After a couple of minutes pass, our waitress returns with my credit card receipt. “My friend was going to leave you a generous tip but, as it turns out, he now owes me fifty thousand dollars, so I’ll be leaving you a generous tip.”

She nearly chokes. “Fifty thousand dollars? For what?”

“Just a wager.”

“Just a wager?!? Wow. I wish that kind of money would just fall in my lap.”

I look her over. She’s pretty. A bright, natural red head that appears to be hiding a pretty killer body. I bet when she’s out with friends and not in her simple, plain white dress blouse and black slacks she’s an absolute knockout. I’d love to get a look at her wearing a lot less clothing. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh,” She says. “I don’t know…”

I pull the coin up into view. “Heads I give you that fifty thousand dollars and tails…”

“I lose the ability to wear a bra,” she blurts.

I look at her for a beat to see if she’s serious. She’s blushing, but she nods.

I flip the coin up and—TAILS.

It’s obvious now that, under her white work blouse, she no longer wears a bra. I get a much better view of the curve of her breasts and the imprint of her nipples is easily seen.

Even the businessman seems to notice this when he returns with a check in hand. He hands me the check, but his eyes are on our waitress the whole time. “I didn’t know your full name so I wrote it out to ‘cash.’ Don’t lose it.”

I put it into my wallet. “I won’t.”

The businessman finally looks me in the eyes when he shakes my hand. “Don’t suppose you want to go double or nothing?”

I just smile and shake my head. He walks away, giving the waitress a smile and nod.

“What about with me?”

“What?”

“Double or nothing with me… I don’t know if I can keep this job if I can’t wear a bra and, you know, bills must be paid. Tuition ain’t cheap.”

I smile at her. “I don’t know. I like the look.”

“Oh,” she says, “I can tell that you do, Wyatt.”

“You know my name?”

“It’s on your credit card.”

“Oh. Oh yeah.” I look down at the receipt to get her name. “Tracy.”

“So…”

I pull out the coin. She sees it and smiles. I begin the wager, “Heads you can wear a bra again and tails…”

“I lose the ability to wear panties.”

The words seem to surprise her. Her eyes go wide.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I say, “it’s come up tails the last three times. That streak is bound to end eventually.”

She nods, nervously. I toss the coin. TAILS.

My underwear-free waitress looks genuinely shocked. She tries to find a comfortable position for her new state, constantly shifting around.

“Double or nothing?”

“I don’t think—”

“I can’t live like this.” She points to her body. “You have to give me a chance.” She spies the coin in my hand. “Heads I can wear a bra and panties again and tails…”

I see a bit of the warning in dad’s note. Her eyes plead needy, bordering on out of control. Don’t bet what you can’t lose. It’s not like it’s even in my control anymore as the coin feeds me what to say—the even side of this wager. “You’re the kind of girl who likes not wearing a bra and panties.”

She laughs. “Well, either way, problem solved, right?”

“Right.”

I flip the coin. TAILS.

Not everything about Tracy changes, but enough to be visually noticeable. Her entire posture feels body positive, thrusting her chest forward with pride. Her sensible black flats are now two-inch high heels. Her makeup, previously minimal and professional, now perfectly highlights her features for a sultry, minx look.

“You staying here?” she asks, even her voice seems a little lower, slower… sexier.

“Yeah. Room 231.”

“I’m off in fifteen. I’ll be in Room 231 in sixteen.” She sashays away, hips swinging in an almost hypnotic manner.

I rush up to my room to hide all the clothes that I’ve randomly thrown about then take a moment to brush my teeth and gargle some mouthwash. It feels like an eternity, but the knock comes at the door and I nearly trip over my feet to get to it and open it.

She struts through the door, already unbuttoning her blouse before the door closes behind her. She’s walking directly towards the bed. I feel like my feet have been rooted to the floor where I stand. I just can’t believe this is happening. She removes her top and lets it fall to the floor. I see the perfect curve of her back sloping gently into her pants. She stops, looks over her shoulder, and asks, “You ready to fuck, Wyatt?”

Her pants come down and I see that her perfect curve extends the length of her body. I rush over to her. She grips the back of my head and forces a tongue into my mouth. She pulls away. “You’re wearing too much.”

She undoes my belt and yanks it so hard from the loops I feel like she’s about to beat me with it. (And I’m not even sure if that’s a good or bad thing at this point.) I take off my tie and start to unbutton my dress shirt, but before I can finish that, she’s pulled my pants and boxers down to the ground.

“Mmm,” she moans. “I see it’s my turn for dessert.”

She drops to her knees and starts to lick up and down my shaft, periodically looking up so that I can see her eyes. She wraps a hand around it and starts stroking, then takes me into her mouth and throat, pumping away. Her constant moaning vibrates up and down my cock and before long, I feel like I’m going to blow. I can tell she knows this, because she increases her speed, and just before I cum, she pulls away so I squirt my load all over her tits. She looks down at a dribble hanging off her puffy pink nipple. “That won’t do. That won’t do at all.” She looks directly into my eyes and says, “You know I don’t like wearing anything on my titties.” She hoists the offending breast up so that she can suck my juices off her nipple. She gives equal attention to both breasts, making sure there’s nothing left, but they’re left gleaming from her mouth.

“You’re a fair person, right, Wyatt?”

I nod.

She stands, she puts me between her and the bed, then shoves me down onto it.

She straddles me and slowly works her way up my body until her pussy is right above my mouth. “Prove it.”

She lowers her pussy down onto me and I start to kiss it. She grinds against my mouth, a small shudder every now and then. She reaches back and starts to play with my dick, gently stroking it at first, and then, when it shows renewed life, gripping it firmly.

“Do you want to be inside me?” she asks.

I nod into her pussy.

“Make me cum.”

I lick and tongue like my life depended on it, her stroking hand urging me on. I reach up and pinch a nipple and she screams, “I’m cumming!” Her juices coat my mouth. Her grinding slows, only stopping when she works her body back down mine. She stops just above my firm cock, making sure to look me in the eyes and seductively smile, before she takes every inch in. She bounces up and down like a cheerleader on crack. I thumb her clit and she bounces even harder. I can tell we’re both on the verge and we play each other like it’s a game of who’ll blink first. The efforts reward in a shared orgasm as she screams again and I grunt.

Spent, our sweaty bodies intertwine as I hold her and we both drift off to some well-earned sleep.

I wake and she’s no longer in bed with me. At first, I assume she had to leave. I slowly stretch and sit up and that’s when I see her. She’s clothed again and kneeling on the ground at the door, her hands cupped and raised above her head.

Still naked, I approach her and ask, “What are you doing?”

“The Flipping Coin can never be taken. The Flipping Coin must always be won.” Her voice is distant, mechanical. Her face and body, unmoving.

“Tracy, what did you do?”

“I wagered I could take the Flipping Coin. I lost because the Flipping Coin must always be won. The transgression must be punished.”

“It’s okay. No harm, no foul. I’ll just take the coin back and we’re good.”

Her head turns towards me, eyes filled with rage. “The transgression must be PUNISHED!”

“Okay, okay.” I think for a bit. “Tracy has to clean my room… naked.”

“The PUNISHMENT must match the transgression.”

“I don’t know what would—”

“The PUNISHMENT must match the transgression.” She repeats and raises the coin higher.

I take the coin from her hands and the words flood out of my mouth. “Tracy, you are mine now, body and soul. What I say is your absolute truth. What I want, your absolute need. My happiness is your happiness. My sadness is your pain.”

I shudder.

I look down to see Tracy prostrated below me.

I understand she’s “mine,” but have no idea what that actually means. The coin is warm in my hand. Tracy speaks, while it’s her voice and neither distant nor mechanical, I can tell they’re not her words. “I am what you say I am. I do what you tell me to do.”

“Tracy, you’re my girlfriend.”

Tracy stands and wraps her arms around me. “You are too sweet, Wyatt.”

“Maybe I wasn’t done. You’re a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets.”

She purrs like a kitten. “Go on…”

“You’re going to get your nipples pierced as soon as you can.”

She opens her shirt to reveal pierced nipples. In response to my confusion, “I am what you say I am.”

“Well, then… You will never get sick. You will always have this flawless body. You will always be happy.” Tears start to form in her eyes, so I repeat. “You will always be happy.”

“I am happy. You’re just so, so kind. I think I understand the power you have over me better than you do, but you’re still being kind.”

“The Flipping Coin wants you punished, I don’t. I don’t want a slave… Why did you try to take the coin anyway?”

“I wanted to see what I could do with it. Lesson learned.”

“Fair enough. Button back up and go about your life as you would have before our paths crossed” She starts to button up and reaches for the door handle. “…But give me your number. I might feel a need to punish you every now and then. I promise it will be fun for the both of us.”

She walks over to the nightstand and writes out her number on a piece of hotel stationery. She hands this to me. “So… I’m your girlfriend, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t cheat on me.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But I don’t want to.” She leans in and whispers in my ear. “Control has always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Boy are you in for it now.”

“Boy,” she starts then leans in to give me the kind of kiss that you’d remember on your death bed, “are YOU in for it now.”

The door closes behind her and I think about today.

I’ve got fifty thousand dollars.

I’ve got a magical coin.

And I’ve got a magical girlfriend.

Not bad for day one.