The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gail awoke with a start, her body once again sweaty and hot, as were the satin sheets on her bed. Another erotic dream, like the night before, and the night before that.

Since Gail and her partner Lydia had paid a visit to the mysterious owners of Sublime Cab Rides, she had found herself consumed with thoughts and dreams of lust and desire, alternating with shame and excitement. The mysterious and beautiful Mara had seduced her, and Gail had enjoyed, and found herself wanting more.

Her fellow cops took little notice of how withdrawn and quiet she had become, chalking it up to a lack of sex in their usual misogynistic way.

Her relationship with her partner Lydia was different now as well. She found herself checking her out more, gazing at her breasts that were so much larger than her own, peeking at her nude body in the shower and locker room, wondering what Lydia would be like in bed, feeling an almost overwhelming desire to break with tradition, to break the taboo against getting involved with ones partner, desiring to grab Lydia and....

Gail shook her violently, vainly attempting to rid herself of the constant and insistent erotic images that had so often possessed her as of late.

The two policewomen had not spoken of that day since it had happened, instead throwing themselves into their work, burying their libidos under paperwork and arrests.

Lately though, the dreams had grown stronger, sexier. Gail felt as if someone was summoning her, beckoning her, taking her somewhere new and powerfully erotic.

She jumped in the shower, vigorously scrubbing her lithesome body, hoping to purge herself of these desires and images.

Her body had changed, too. She had felt more of an inclination to work on her abs, and her stomach was now flat and sexy.

What could she do? If she and Lydia went back there, it might happen again. And if she went alone, who knows what would happen?

Another nagging thought was that if she went alone, that she wouldn’t report anything, that she would abase herself before Mara, surrender herself, give in...

She cursed and shut the water off, realizing that her hand was deep inside herself yet again.

Clad in her terry-cloth robe, she flopped down on her couch and turned on the TV. “My swinging Saturday night,” she said aloud, aimlessly channel surfing.

She stopped as she came across Channel 67, one of the public access channels. It was airing a show called “World Dance New York.”

Then she gasped. The show was about bellydancers.

Gail’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the TV, the images of svelte, beautiful women gracefully dancing filled her eyes, while other thoughts filled her mind.

Across the bottom of the screen was the small legend “Live from the Dancing Palace, Astoria, Queens.”

Her mind dimly registered the fact that Mara had mentioned that she and her husband owned a restaurant in that neighborhood. Was this synchronicity again? Could it be the same club? Was this fate, or coincidence?

The remote slid unnoticed from her fingers, as she drank in the images onscreen. The beautiful women, their bodies undulating, their finger cymbals lustily clicking away, was almost more than she could take. Her pupils dilated, and her cunt began to leak, especially when she noticed that one of the dancers on stage had lit up a long, thick stick of incense that began to curl pink smoke over the stage.

Gail stared, unblinking, until the program ended.

Then, wordlessly, she stood up, and walked over to her dresser, silently pulling on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt.

“I’ll.......I will call Lydia,” she said aloud. " I might need...backup.”

Her voice was a strange monotone as she left a message on her partner’s voicemail, then drove off into the night.

Lydia bit her lip as she roughly pinched her nipples, driving the vibrator deep inside herself. Her sheets were as wet as her pussy, and her mind was recalling the dirty and sinful way she had been seduced by the mysterious, exotic stranger, Miro.

Her mind recalled the way he had thrust himself deep inside her, and the way he had restrained her on the operating table, the dance music from the headphones filling her ears and mind.

So what if he was a suspected criminal? She wanted him, lusted for him. She wanted him to take her that way again.

She continued to pleasure herself, ignoring the ringing telephone.

Gail took a deep breath as she stood outside the restaurant. Part of her told her to wait until her Lydia arrived, but another, more powerful part of her was urging her inside the building.

The restaurant was packed. Grinning waiters and busboys milled about, bussing tables and carrying large trays of large drinks to set before the mostly male, mostly Arabian crowd.

With a supreme amount of effort, she wrenched her eyes from the stage that took up almost one entire side of the interior, and from the two incredibly sensuous and beautiful dancers who were currently mesmerizing the crowd.

A young, impeccably dressed Arabian man approached her. “May I help, you, Miss?” he asked politely.

Gail spoke before she realized what she was saying. “Mara,” she said.

The young man paused a moment, then tossed back his head. “Ah, of course! You must be a new dancer. Come this way.”

He took Gail’s arm, and whisked her to the back of the club before she even had time to protest.

They proceeded to a hidden door in the wall at the back of the club, next to the restrooms. “Here, my dear, down this hall, last door on the left. The dressing room is there,” the host said.

“But, I’m not...” Gail protested, not sure of what to say.

“Don’t worry, Mara will join you shortly,” he said.

Upon hearing Mara’s name, Gail immediately relaxed, although her stomach tightened in anticipation. “Yes, of course,” she said, and walked down the hallway, closing the door behind her.

The hallway was dark, lit only for a few candles, scented candles that smelled foreign, yet maddeningly familiar. Gail felt as if she was walking through a dream, the sounds of the club fading away behind her.

Not only was it the last door, but it was the only door that she could see. The light was already on, and she entered without knocking.

The room was small and bare, save only for a chair in front of a large make-up table, complete with triptych mirrors. Hanging next to it was a fantastically beautiful bellydancers outfit, made only of small, shiny round pieces of a shiny gold metal.

Gail caught her breath, her hands automatically reaching out to touch the material in front of her. She felt another thrill course through her body as she touched the gauzy fabric that was the arms of the outfit.

It was then that she noticed a small, lidded urn on the table, decorated with a bright red bow.

She hesitated, fleetingly thinking of Pandora, then cautiously removed the lid.

A large puff of pink smoke billowed forth, floating up to Gail’s face. Her eyes widened as she inhaled, willingly swallowing the smoke, reveling in it as it coursed down her throat. She bent down over it and inhaled as deeply as she could, then again and again.

Her mind was soon clouded, all thoughts of her mission, such as it was, fading from her mind as her body responded to the scents and sensations that were now flowing through her.

She stared at herself in the mirror, taking no notice of her dilated pupils. Excited, she ripped at her tee-shirt, tearing it from her body, congratulating herself for not bothering with a bra and panties.

Lydia cried out again, another orgasm racking her body.

She breathed heavily as she finally pulled herself out of bed, resolving to check her phone messages before masturbating again.

Her mouth fell open as she listened to Gail’s message.

“Hi Lydia, it’s Gail. Listen, I know we haven’t talked about what happened, but I think I might be on to something. I saw a club on TV, and I think we’ll find Miro there.”

Lydia felt a stirring in her clit as she heard that name. The message went on to leave the address of the Queens nightclub.

Lydia glanced at the clock. Shit, that message had come in almost an hour ago! Had she been.........all that time?

She too, dressed as sparsely as possible, reasoning to herself that she was pressed for time, then headed out the door.

The young bus boy rushed down the hall. It was his first night of work, his English was poor, and he was confused and unhappy. He knew that people, some people, did not like him because of his looks, suspected him of being a terrorist, of hating America.

All his life, he had wanted to come to America and study engineering. Now, alone in a strange country, he felt as if he had made a mistake.

Fumbling down a darkened hallway, he opened the one door that had light emanating from it.

And stood staring.

Before him stood the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, much moreso than any of the other dancers in the club. She was blonde and beautiful, obviously American, and she was clad in the tightest dancers outfit there was, her breasts full, rising as if to tempt him. Her eyes were glazed, as if she was drugged, and she smiled wickedly.

Against his will, he closed the door behind him.

“ What is your name, my handsome young boy?” she asked him, her voice soft and sultry.

“A....Ahmad,” he swallowed, his face flushed, his pants uncomfortable.

“Ahmad. Tell me, Ahmad,” she said as she slowly walked towards him, do you find me attractive?”

“ Yes, I do.” He swallowed again, his throat dry.

Gail’s eyes bored into his. “Do you have a girlfriend, Ahmad?”

He shook his head, fear and excitement coursing through him. “N..no,” he gasped.

The woman was slowly sinking to her knees, a knowing smile on her face. “Have you ever been with a woman, Ahmad?” she asked, knowing full well the answer.

“ N...no,” he stammered. " Please, I must get back to work.”

Gail fingered his zipper. " Not just yet,” she said coyly.

Ahmad’s head told him to leave right away, that he could lose his job, but his cock informed him otherwise. Before he could say anything, the beautiful American girl had reached inside his fly and pulled out his small but growing cock.

She winked at him, then plunged her mouth onto his member.

Ahmad cried out in wonder and innocence. Almost immediately, he felt his cock began to spasm, and his orgasmic utterance filled the room.

He blushed in shame as he realized that Gail had moved out of the way, his orgasm ending up on the floor.

“ Now don’t be embarrassed, honey. You’re just excited. Just do as I say, okay? Will you listen and obey me?” she asked, more a command than a request.

Ahmad stared into her deep brown eyes. They seemed to tug at his heart. “Yes, I will listen and obey,” he replied.

“Good. Now stand over there, " Gail pointed to the make-up table.

Ahmad hesitated, but Gail squeezed his cock, which even now was hardening again. He nearly flew across the room.

Gail strode over to him, shaking her breasts and hips, her outfit jingling and tinkling, first softly, then louder.

Ahmad moaned, and went to stroke his cock, but Gail suddenly slapped him across the face. “Don’t move!” she barked.

He stood still, frightened and fascinated.

She danced before him, strutting and winking, alternately eyeing his cock and his eyes, promising him a moment that would stay with him always.

She then turned her rear to him, her lovely, perfect ass, and unhooked the thong from her crotch.

She then

wordlessly impaled herself on Ahmad’s hard cock.

“OH! OH! OH!” he cried out, as she moved herself up and down on his shaft.

She looked over her shoulder, tossing her hair back and winking at him. “How does it feel, lover? Do you like how your cock feels in tight American pussy? Do you like how I am taking your virginity, taking your cock, making you mine?”

“ Yes, yes, yes!” Ahmad screamed, feeling his balls spasm yet again.

Gail sensed it, and pushed herself back onto his cock as hard as she could, wanting him to feel pain as well as pleasure. " Come for me, then!” she commanded.

“ Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Ahmad cried, spewing forth a huge and amazing amount of cum, reveling in the loss of his virginity.

Gail squeezed her cunt muscles tightly, determined to suck every drop of come from his cock.

After a moment, she turned around, and pushed Ahmad to the ground. Straddling him, she said only one word.

“ Lick.”

By now Ahmad was beyond resistance, and he eagerly ate away, his enthusiasm compensating for his lack of experience. Oblivious to the taste of his own semen amidst the sweet nectar of Gail’s cunt, he lapped away.

Gail closed her eyes and smiled, feeling delightfully dirty. She had never taken a virgin before, and it felt so right, and she felt so powerful.

She cried out in orgasmic bliss, coming straight into Ahmad’s mouth.

After a moment, she pushed him down on the ground, and put a finger to his lips. " Bye, sweetie,” she whispered, blowing a kiss at him as she walked out of the dressing room.

Ahmad sat on the floor, suddenly feeling comical, lying there with his cock hanging out. Then he smiled shyly.

Perhaps he was going to enjoy working here, after all.

Lydia burst into the club, eyes quickly scanning for Gail. What if she was too late? What if....

She stopped herself. “What exactly am I doing here? What do I plan to do? What will I do if I see....him?” she thought.

Before she could answer herself, the lights on the stage dimmed, and she heard an unseen voice requesting that the crowd should welcome to new dancers, Shaliba and Tira.

Lydia paused, thinking that she knew the two women, then gasped.

It was the two women from Miro’s apartment, the ones who he had shown to her, right before he......

Had Lydia been before a mirror, she would have noticed that her eyes were now dilated as well. As it was, her subconscious recognized the music as being that of what she had felt through the glass wall when her exotic seducer had pushed himself up against her, then inside her.

Beth and Debbie danced in precise unison, sweat flying from their bodies. The small but busty Beth and the powerful athletic frame of Debbie made for an exotic combination, and the men in the audience watched appreciatively.

Debbie closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the power that her presence had over her audience. Any resistance she might have had to her virtual kidnapping and brainwashing had been replaced with the realization that she felt so good.

Her stomach rippled with elaborate muscle control. She had never realized that bellydancing could be so athletic, and so incredibly sexy and powerful. She felt as if she could have any one in the audience that she desired, and, although a small part of her felt that she still needed to somehow escape, to get away from all of this, she was immensely grateful for her newfound erotic knowledge, and wanted to know more.

Beth, too, was grateful. She knew that Miro and Mara were watching her, and she wanted to please them, to show them how much she had learned, to do whatever they said. All of their ideas were good ideas, and she would obey without question.

As the two sexy women ended their dance with a climatic raising of arms and bosoms, the audience roared their approval.

Lydia cried out as well, her orgasmic shudder oblivious in the noise and darkness of the club.

Staggering, she put her hand on a beam to steady herself, as a small and impeccably dressed man approached her. " May I help you, Miss?” he asked cautiously.

“ M.....Miro,” was all she could say.

The host studied her a moment. She was a tall, powerfully built Latina, like an Amazon, and he was very impressed with what he saw. " Come with me,” he said, taking her arm, leading her not to the hallway where he had taken Gail, but off to the right, to another hidden part of the club.

Sheer ecstasy awaited her.