The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1

I woke up face down in a swimming pool.

I was alive. That was a surprise, but a nice one. I rolled over so I could breath.

You may be wondering how I got here. To be honest, I am too. Maybe if I start from the beginning I can remember.

It all started three weeks ago. I was sitting in my office, minding my own business and trying to figure out I could pay my rent, when She walked in.

I heard her before I noticed she was there. “You have to help me,” She said, breathlessly. She stood in my doorway for a minute, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She was blonde, one of those dames who could cut off your left leg, boil it, eat it for breakfast, and you’d offer to give her your right one for dinner. Her hair was disheveled, running over her shoulders and in front of her face. Her tank top and form fitting jeans made it a little too easy to imagine what they were covering. For all that she looked like one classy dame, even if she wasn’t dressed part.

I put on my best bland, reassuring Private Eye face and pulled my chair a little further under the desk to keep her from eyeing my growing privates. She may have been a damn fine broad but I couldn’t let that keep me from getting the job. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

“My husband,” she said, still breathless. “He’s trying to kill me.” Her voice nearly made me breathless as my blood migrated south out of my lungs. Her bosom’s prominent heaving didn’t help either.

What I wouldn’t give for her to lean over, I thought to myself. I mentally hit myself. It wasn’t profitable to think about paying customers like that.

Right then, I noticed that she was leaning over to look for something in her purse. This left her angled perfectly for her tank top to hang down, giving me the perfect view. Coincidence, I thought, but it seemed a little too perfectly timed. I shook my head, but figured I might as well try my luck.

“Why’s he trying to kill you?” I asked, trying to play it cool. What I wouldn’t give for her to take off that tank top.

“He thinks I’m cheating on him,” she answered, her breathy voice muffled for a moment as she took off her top. Her breasts were as perfect as I had imagined. The perfect size to fit in the palm of my hand. Her nipples poked out beneath her bra.

I tried not to think about the irony of it all. For that matter, it was getting hard to think at all. “What makes him say that?” I asked, thinking that bra could go, too.

“Someone told him that they saw me with another man,” she said, as she reached around behind her and unclasped her bra. It fell the floor, landing near her tank top. Her firm breasts barely sagged, and the cool air of my office made her nipples stretch as far as they could.

Suck me off, I thought, pulling my chair back. “Do you know who saw you?” I asked as she approached me and fell to her knees. She was distracted trying to free me from my pants for a moment before she could answer.

“No,” she said, licking all the way down my shaft.

“Do you have any OOOO enemies?” I asked, the OOOO caused the sensation of her taking me all the way into her mouth. Her tongue danced wildly around my cock.

“I can’t think of any,” she said when she came up for air, one of her hands massaging my balls as the other stroked my Private Eye. She started licking again. “Why would someone want me dead?” She went back down on me, taking all of me into her mouth. I gasped and moaned as I felt myself go back down her throat. I had to agree with her. I couldn’t figure out why someone would want a dame this gorgeous dead, much less one that could suck dick so well.

“Then your husband,” I said, trying not to gasp for air. “He’s a jealous guy?”

“He just doesn’t think I’m behaving well enough for a Don’s wife.”

“A Don?!” I asked, my erection vanishing PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON! my mind screamed as I pulled her mouth off of me. Her perfect half naked body called for me to go on, but I knew better then to fuck a Don’s wife. My private dick might protest, but tit wasn’t worth getting killed for.

“Yeah, my husband is Don Francesco.” She slid her bra and tank top back over her chest. I sighed, already missing the sight as it disappeared.

“Don Francesco?” I cried. He was the most powerful Don in the city. He owned the cops, the plumbers, the church, everybody. Nobody could get escape if he wanted you dead. “I can’t protect you from Don Francesco!”

“I don’t want you to protect me,” she protested, smoothing her clothes. “I just want you to prove to him that I’ve been faithful.”

It was suicide and I knew it. Don Francesco didn’t get where he was being irrational, and when he hit someone is was because he had seen some damn good evidence. But I felt bad for taking advantage of this perfect broad. I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face, and the rest of her helped, too.

“Alright,” I said after a suitably long pause so she’d think I had carefully considered. “I’ll do it, but its going to cost you.”

“I can pay,” she said. “Whatever you want...” Her hand went to her purse. “How much?”

I named a price I suspected she could afford. One that would get me on a nice, long vacation in another country when this was over.

“And I’ll need half up front.”

Ten minutes later she was gone. I was left with an impossible job, a nice check, and a memory of her ass wiggling as she walked out the door. I had never even gotten to see that particular part of her naked, and it was still a sight to remember. She had left me her card.

Paris Francesco.