The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That night, Trish came home upset from the funeral. She didn’t cry—she’d done all her crying weeks ago when she first found out her grandma had passed away—but she looked emotionally drained. She put her coat on the entryway hook and plopped down on the couch next to me. “Babe...I hate that you couldn’t be there...”

“I know,” I said, kissing her forehead. “Me, too. Just one of those things.”

She nodded and cuddled up into my arms. “Yeah, I know. But that creep Joey was there...” Joey was a 19-year-old kid Trisha grew up with, who she never liked. He stayed in touch because he always had a crush on Trisha, but as much as he creeped her out, she was always too nice to reject him outright. “He actually tried hitting on me...at a funeral...”

“Wow,” I said, not really surprised. “That’s a dick move.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I just...need a drink.”

“Or...” I said. I did want to be there for her, but by now, I’d reasoned that as long as she believed what I told her, it would be helping. “You’ve always been more relaxed by giving me a blowjob than by drinking, so that might help.” That was, of course, completely false. In fact, the one time she’d ever given me oral, she hated it. But if she believed it relaxed her...maybe it would, and I’d help both of us at the same time.

“You’re right,” she said, as she began to unzip my jeans. Knowing the power I was exerting had me already hard with arousal. “It’s not like I cried at the funeral anyway. I just...I don’t know.” She pulled out my cock and lowered her lips to it. As she bobbed up and down, I fought the urge to pull her into me. Like I said, I really did want her to feel better, so I couldn’t just be super aggressive, even if I could easily convince her that it helps.

Apparently, she took the relaxation tip very well, because she fell asleep with my cock still in her mouth. I gently and lovingly fucked her face for a few minutes, then pulled out and carried her into my bed. I undressed her, then undressed myself, and crawled under the covers with her. There was nothing better than skin-to-skin contact, which is something we didn’t have often, since she usually put on a nightie between sex and sleep. I drifted off to sleep with her in my arms, kissing her neck sweetly.

“Hank, why am I naked?” I woke up to her stern but curious question. My eyes half-opened, I said, “Because you love sleeping naked.”

“Oh...heh, right. I know that, I just...” I could almost see her brain trying to make sense of things. “I just don’t remember getting undressed last night.”

“Yeah, I did it for you,” I said. “You fell asleep while you were blowing me.” I opened my eyes all the way.

“Oh!” she said, smiling. “Right, okay, that makes sense. That does always relax me. And speaking of relaxing...thanks. For being there for me last night.”

“No problem, babe,” I answered. “I’m just glad to see you’re happier today.”

Her smile grew. “I am. And I’m glad about it, too.” Huh...I’d have to be careful with that kind of phrasing. “So, I took off the entire weekend for the funeral, which means we have today to ourselves. What do you want to do with our rare quality time?” Maybe I should have been concerned about her grin the day after a family member’s funeral, but if she was happy, that was a good thing, right?

“I don’t know,” I said, stretching mid-sentence. “Maybe just chill out at home?” I hugged her tight, then let go, and she giggled.

“You’re so boring,” she mocked. “What’s the point of living twenty minutes away from the city if we’re not going to take advantage of it?”

“Because I hate shopping?” I offered.

“But you love me, so I’ll make you a deal: you come with me shopping, and I won’t kick your ass in Call of Duty tonight. Deal?” She was only half-joking; the number of head shots my girl could pull off was unimaginable sometimes.

“I’m going to need something more than that...something more phallically satisfying,” I joked. I chuckled, but apparently, that didn’t matter, as she said, “Okay, fine; after all the shopping, we can do that thing I usually only let you do on your birthday.” She slowly stroked my dick under the covers as she said this, turning my existing morning wood into morning steel.

“You...have a deal,” I said, and I rolled her under me and kissed her deeply. “But if we’re going into the city, I’m going to need a shower first.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying you smell or anything, but strangers won’t enjoy your man-musk as much as I do right now.” I rolled my eyes, climbed out of bed, and turned on the shower.

Most of the day was pretty normal. Boring, since I cared as much about clothes as I did about how long it takes each blade of grass to grow on a Chia Pet’s head, but normal. I didn’t lie about anything, so there was nothing for her to believe which she shouldn’t have. I considered helping her by getting her clothes for free, but I knew she’d have questions about that, and I wasn’t prepared to spin a web of lies to cover up my newly obtained powers. And of course, no one could know about them; I’ve seen enough TV shows to know I don’t want to wind up in a government black-ops site somewhere.

That evening, we’d found a little bar-and-grill place in the city and got ourselves a simple dinner. Trisha took a bit of her burger and commented, “So, you’ve been very well-behaved today. That’s a pleasant surprise.”

“Did you just say I’m a good boy in fancier words?”

She chuckled. “Maybe. But I’ll admit, I expected you to complain the entire time, make up some story about why you had to leave, or something.”

“Maybe I just think lying can be...too powerful.” I recalled the breakup conversation the night before.

“Wow, that’s deep,” she said, wiping ketchup off her lips with a napkin. “Since when are you so philosophical?”

“Since yesterday.”

“Oh, I get it...” she said, suddenly more serious. “The funeral has you all pondering mortality and the depth of life and the meaning of everything. I feel that way, too, a little. It’s a good thing, I think, but you can’t let it weigh you down too much. You have to be happier today than you were yesterday, you know?”

“Yeah...” I said. “Definitely.”

“Well, I’ll definitely cheer you up when we get home tonight,” she said, and winked. I can’t remember the last time she actually winked at me—it might have been when we first met and she was still flirting to court me.

“About that...” I started. I felt bad about manipulating her into it, but I had only told her I wanted something more; she was the one who supplied the idea. Maybe I shouldn’t let her go through with it...but maybe she wanted it. Maybe those birthday escapades were secretly a desire of hers, too, and I had just given her an excuse to do it without the natal celebrations.

Before I had finished contemplating everything, the waitress came by our table to check up on us. “Can I get you anything else? Or just the check?”

“Well,” I said, “it’s my birthday, so can I get a free cupcake or something?”

“Sure,” she said, smiling. “I’ll be right back.”

Trisha looked at me, confused. “I thought your birthday was two months ago? Wow, I guess tonight is more appropriate than I thought!”

“No no, babe, I only told her that to get the free cup...cake...” It suddenly occurred to me that although I’d been speaking to the waitress, Trisha still believed what I had said. It didn’t matter who I spoke to, if I said something, everyone would believe it. So if I said something to Trisha just now, then everyone who heard it would believe it was true...

“Oh, okay,” Trish said, smiling again. “So much for ‘lying is too powerful’.”

“It’s just a cupcake, babe.”

“I know, I’m just teasing you,” she giggled.

But she was right. Lying was very powerful...more powerful than I had thought. And if I had half the power I believed right now, then maybe I could...but I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t abuse it. I should use it for good, or at least neutral, endeavors. On the other hand, if it wouldn’t hurt anyone...

“One sec, Trish,” I said, and I stood up and headed to the podium by the entryway. You know, where they have the little microphone to announce a party’s name when their table is ready? An announcement that can be heard everywhere in the restaurant...

I grabbed the mic. “Sir, you can’t—” “Yes, I can.” “Okay.” I pressed the little button to turn the microphone on and spoke into it clearly. “This restaurant allows public nudity and public sex, and everyone here came tonight because they’re okay with that.” Then I returned to my table.

“Hank, what was that about?” Trish asked immediately. “Why did you just get on the mic and tell everyone what they already knew?”

“No reason,” I dismissed. “But I was thinking...why wait until we get home to finish the deal? It would be better just to do it right now, right here, especially since you love public sex. That’s why you picked this place.” Yeah, manipulative, but there’s no way this power wouldn’t be, so why not get something out of it?

“You’re right,” she said, and her warm smile turned into a sultry grin. She stood up and, very slowly, unbuttoned her shirt one at a time, winding her body like a professional dancer. I realized she was putting on a show not only for me, but for everyone else in the building who as watching her. After all...she loved public sex. She threw her blouse onto her chair, then unbuttoned her jeans, but I was growing impatient.

I pulled her pants, my pants, and her panties down all at the same time, bent her over the table, and shoved my cock into her asshole without hesitation. She screamed. “OW! Hank, there’s no lube, be gentle!” I whispered in her ear, “It’s better when it hurts,” and began pounding her anally with no slowing. “You’re—ow!—right, bab—ow!” Was this rape? Possibly. But she liked it, I knew she did, so maybe not? I’m pretty sure this moment was when I entered my morally gray phase, and I don’t think I ever left it.

As I continued fucking her ass, and she continued yelling—both in pain and begging for more—I peered around the room. Everyone was watching us, and though no one added to the show, a few people had their hands conspicuously hidden under their tables. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, which hurt her a bit, which turned her on more. “Oh, God, yes!” she yelled. I would be surprised if she even knew she was in public anymore at that point, she was so lost in her pleasure.

Finally, I came in her asshole, and she came as well. I pulled out, and with my senses returning to me, I knew that she needed emotional support. Even then I knew I potentially had raped her, or at the least helped her discover two new fetishes within two minutes of each other; she’d need support while she processed. So I pulled both our pants up, helped her get her shirt back on, and motioned for her to sit on my lap. I held her tightly, gave her sweet kisses on her neck, lips, and forehead, and told her I loved her. Again, that was never a lie, no matter how selfish I could be sometimes.

“That was...” she whispered, catching her breath. “I don’t know. So good. And so...different.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely different,” I agreed.

“We should do this again sometime,” she suggested. “Not right away,” she clarified quickly, “but sometime.”

“That...sounds like a plan.”

As we left the restaurant, I got on the microphone and made sure to let everyone know the restaurant no longer allowed nudity or public sex. I figured I should clean that up before it got out of hand, and I had only needed them to believe the lie long enough for Trish and I to get off there. Speaking of cleanup, Trish had paid a trip to the restroom to clean herself up before we left, as did I. Despite the complete absurdity of what had just happened, she was happy, I was happy, no one got hurt...so I hadn’t done anything wrong, right?