The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lil hit the snooze button again and nuzzled her pillow. Albert would let her know when she had to wake up. Warm, dependable Albert. She wiggled backwards a bit, hoping for some spooning, but his side of the bed was empty.

Empty? Lil sat up with a curse. How could she have forgotten? Albert had stayed at the office all night because his Weston case was going to trial or something. She glanced at the clock. Six thirty. Damnit! Ten minutes to get ready and out the door, or she’d miss the bus.

She showered and dressed in record time. Even so, she still bolted out the door five minutes late. But she could still make her bus if she cut through the alley connecting William Street to Seventh. All right, so it wasn’t the smartest plan—dark, narrow alleys weren’t exactly safe places, not even in her gentrified neighborhood—but she had cut through the alley before.

Last night’s rain made the sidewalks slick. It was worse in the alley, which had never been paved and was still uneven cobblestone. Part of the neighborhood’s charm, just like the lilacs and hyacinths dotting the sidewalks.

“Well now, what have we here?”

Lil froze. A man blocked her path. Tall and solid, built like a college linebacker and probably not much older than one. Twenty-five at the oldest, his blond hair buzzed short, muscles evident through his tight t-shirt. Lil took an instinctive step back, feeling a spike of fear. He wasn’t from her neighborhood. She’d remember someone who looked that good in a t-shirt.

“Looks like someone’s taking a short cut.”

“Yes,” Lil said. “My bus. I have to—”

He lunged at her. Lil yelped and kicked at him, earning a stinging backhanded slap for her efforts. “You’re going to miss it,” he said, getting a hand around her upper arm.

“No, please!” She struggled as he jerked her around and forced her to her knees. “Please, I—” Lil winced when he reached under her skirt and ran a hand up her stocking-clad thighs. She could taste her fear, sweet and metallic, in the back of her throat, could feel every bump in the cobblestones beneath her palms, even the tiny pebbles at the bottom of the pothole her left hand had landed in.

“Garters. Nice.” He tugged her panties aside.

“My bus!” Lil gasped as his fingers teased her outer lips. “I need to catch my bus.”

“Right. You bus. That’s why you’re wet.”

Lil shook her head.

He withdrew his fingers and shoved them under her nose so she was faced with the unmistakable scent of her body’s betrayal.

“Please,” she whimpered. Now that she had been forced to confront her arousal, Lil was keenly aware of her heat, of the anticipatory tingle between her legs, the delicious tightening of her nipples, the flush spreading across her chest and face, the hitch in her breath she couldn’t pretend was fear. How could she want this? Really want this? It was one thing to indulge in rape fantasies when she masturbated, but to get off from being helpless in an alley with the mud and grime ruining her stockings and jacket? To actually want this stranger inside her?

Well, it wasn’t much different from the bathroom fucks she indulged in at clubs, was it? They were with strangers. They were rough. And most of the time, since she was sloppy drunk, they were with people she wouldn’t touch sober.

She felt the head of his cock at her cunt. “No,” she said just as he thrust in, and oh god, it felt so good taking it so suddenly! “Please.” She’d never been stretched so wide so fast, never thought it would feel so good having pain and pleasure so intertwined.

“Please.” She couldn’t tell if she was begging him to stop or begging him to keep going.

“Please what, bitch?”

His gruff tone made something hot snap down her spine. “Oh god.”

He reached under her shirt and pushed her bra up and out of the way. His hands were rough, fingers calloused, and it was perfect. Lil bit her lip to keep from moaning as he pinched her nipples.

“Oh yeah. You like that, don’t you, bitch?” He said, his breath ragged and hot on her neck.

He settled into a rhythm, fucking her hard and fondling her left breast. Lil fought as long as she could, but the sensations! If it was just the feel of him inside her, maybe she could hold out. But there was his hand—oh god, she almost came as he scraped the pad of his thumb over her nipple—and his grunts and the slap of his thighs against her as he thrust in deep. And there was the way she slid under that force, palms and knees scraping against the cobblestones, her left had soaked up to the wrist in an oily puddle.

“Harder.” Lil pushed back against him. She hitched her hips and oh god, yes, that was the angle. “Harder!”

“Like this?”

Lil gasped and clawed at the cobblestones. “Yes. Like that. Make me scream, you shit.”

He fucked her harder. And Lil did scream and snarl and buck back against him until she came, hard, her cunt clenching around his cock.

“Like it, bitch?”

Lil felt rubbery in the aftermath. She willed her arms to hold and forced herself back into his rhythm. “Keep going.”

“Want to—fuck!—see how many times I can get you off?”

“I want something to show for this.” Aside from the bruises. And the scraped knees and palms, the ruined clothes.

“Hunh.” He pawed at her breast hard enough to make her wince, but her heat was building again, and the pain fed it until she was coming again, arching against him as he faltered, then gave one final thrust before coming.

He slumped over her while they caught their breath. Now that the sex was over and he had withdrawn, pleasure disentangled itself from the pain. Lil felt every ache. She curled back on her knees as her assailant tucked himself back in his pants and ran a hand over his hair.

“You’re a pretty good fuck.”

“Go away.” Lil tugged her bra back in place and crossed her arms over her chest. She’d have to go home now. Go home, call in sick to work, and take a long hot shower. And then she’d have to destroy her clothes. Albert would never believe she had been raped. So he could never find out.

Her assailant snorted, turned, and walked away. Lil sat hugging herself until his footsteps had faded, and then she gathered up her purse, smoothed her skirt as best she could, and—

—sat at the vanity brushing her hair. Lil blinked. Hadn’t she just...? She set down the brush and looked at her palms. Scraped and raw and still tender. Yes. From the alley. From the man. She must have blacked out on her way home. Except...

She squinted at the blinds. Except the light was wrong. It was evening. Close to five. The room lurched as she turned around to look at the clock, and it took her a couple of seconds to make out the display. Yes. Five. Albert would be home soon.

But wasn’t Albert preparing for trial? Lil frowned. No. He’d be home soon. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. She glanced down at her hands again. How would she explain her injuries? He’d never believe she had been raped. She didn’t quite believe it herself. She had fucked that man back, right? Liked it?

Her cunt throbbed. Yes, she had liked it. Had wanted it. So what would she tell Albert?

The best lies had a basis in truth. She overslept, tried to make her bus by cutting through the alley, and slipped on slick cobblestones. It would explain her palms and knees. She’d have to be careful until the other bruises faded. Albert had been very clear in their last joint counseling session. He would not tolerate further infidelity. She had to be careful.

She clutched her robe closed at her neck and rose to dress. These days, Albert was more interested in his books than her. She’d have no trouble as long as she was careful. And on the off chance Albert wanted to fuck, she would—

—relish the feel of his cock, thick and full in her mouth. Shit, she was wet! Gushing. And just from giving head!

Of course, she had always liked sucking Albert’s cock. It filled her mouth so wonderfully, and she still remembered Albert’s shock the first time she offered—no, insisted—on going down on him. Giving head wasn’t something proper women did. It was crude and vulgar, and was she really willing?

Oh, yes, she was willing. Poor Albert. He’d been afraid to touch her, afraid to thrust, thinking it would hurt her. He was like that with sex, too, handling her like he was afraid she’d break. She wouldn’t, and it wasn’t until...well, he’d caught her at a club. The memory was hazy, but he had been so out of place, still in his suit and tie when everyone else was in leather and denim. And he had been angry, but he hadn’t left her.

But he wouldn’t touch her. Until now. How had she convinced him?

“Yes, Lil.” Albert’s hand was firm in her hair, pulling it hard enough to make her mew. “Deeper.”

She shuddered, clenching her cunt. Yes. This is what she craved. Had she begged him for this? A tiny orgasm rippled through her. Oh, she hoped he had. Maybe he’d finally...well, maybe he understood. Maybe he was finally willing to use her. Maybe...maybe she should concentrate on the moment and stop trying to remember. The thoughts were distracting.

“Yes. Like that. Choke on it.”

So close. She was so close, and she’d come with him. She could feel it, even as he tightened beneath her, thrust down her throat so she did choke. And then they were both coming and—

—a good orgasm wasn’t worth losing her head. She had to stop cutting through the alley, had to stop hoping someone would be skulking around, just waiting for some tasty little morsel to wander in. And she was tasty, decked out like a naughty secretary, though only the boss would know she wasn’t wearing panties. Well, the imaginary boss in her current fantasy. Her real boss was...was what? She couldn’t remember, couldn’t even recall a name or picture a face. She frowned, slowing her pace. Something was wrong.

“Missed me?” Her assailant from—yesterday? No, last week—stepped into the mouth of the alley.

Lil stopped short. “No, I...” How could she explain she had somehow lost a week? “I’m late. My bus.” Yes. She had overslept again, left the house late just like she had last week. But how did she know that? She couldn’t remember waking up, or dressing, or leaving the house. She couldn’t remember anything from the past week.

“Looks like you’re going to miss it again.” He moved fast, faster than Lil could react. Fear and arousal paralyzed her, made her easy prey.

“Please.” Her voice trembled.

“Please what? Fuck you?” He reached for her, pulling her roughly towards her. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you.”

“No.” She tried to stand her ground, but he was stronger than her. He shoved her back against the wall. She twisted and tried to push her assailant away, but he was pressing against her, unzipping his pants. “Stop!”

“No panties?” Her assailant laughed as he lifted her so she had no purchase. “You did miss me, didn’t you, bitch?” He entered her, rough and brutal, and—oh god, no—she was already wet.

She hadn’t missed him. How could she? But she wanted him. No, wanted this. It could be a different man, and she’d be just as wet, just as eager. She hooked her legs around his waist and fucked him back. “Harder.”

“That’s right. You want to scream.” His breath was hot and moist. He cupped her breast through her blouse and dipped his head down to suck on it through the fabric, his tongue teasing her nipple hard.

Lil didn’t fight her pained whimpers. “Harder.” Her back scraped against the wall. “Harder, you shit! I don’t break.”

He pressed in deeper, harder. Each thrust hurt now—just the way she wanted—and Lil cursed and screamed and kept fucking him through her first orgasm, her second, clenched tight around him when he came, buried so deep inside her, it felt like she wouldn’t leak his come for a week.

Her legs were weak when he withdrew. Lil crumpled into a heap on the ground, the cobblestones cold and rough under her. He knelt in front her. “Thank your husband for me.”

Her stomach fluttered. “My husband?”

“Uh huh.” He rose, the sudden absence of his body heat made Lil shudder. “How do you think I knew when you’d be here?”

Lil bit back a sob. It couldn’t be true. There was no way. Albert...Albert was too—

—angry that she came home scraped and bruised and so obviously well-fucked. “You really can’t think with your brain, can you?”

Lil wrapped her arms around her chest. “Please. It’s not what you think. There was a man.”

“There always is.” He carefully folded the morning paper and set it down next to his untouched coffee.

“No.” She shook her head. “Please. You have to understand! It’s not like that. I was running late. So I...” She blinked. She only ran late when Albert wasn’t there to wake her up. So Albert hadn’t been in bed with her this morning. That’s right! The Weston case! “What are you doing here? Isn’t the Weston case going to trial?”

“There isn’t a Weston case.”

“But...” She slumped against the door. “Didn’t you say? Last week, that one night...” She was crying. “Oh, god. Albert, I can’t remember.”

“How convenient.”

“No. I mean I really can’t remember. There’s something wrong with me. The last thing,” she swiped at the tears, “I remember before this morning is a week ago. When I was...” when she had been sucking his cock, and he had been uncharacteristically brutal. Had that really happened? It felt...less real than her encounters with her assailant. Maybe she had imagined it.

“Yet you know it was a week ago?”

She nodded, slowly. Yes, she knew, somehow. “And this morning, the man, he said to thank you. That he knew I’d be there because of you.” She took a shaky breath, held it.

Albert’s face remained impassive. “He talks too much.”

Lil hiccupped. “You mean it’s true?”

“Of course it’s true. You’re going to run around thinking with your cunt no matter what I do. This way, I have control.”

“Control?” Her head felt fuzzy, and the room wavered in the edges of her vision, almost like she was going to black out, but Albert sat in front of her in sharp focus.

“Come sit, sweetling. Have some coffee.”

She obeyed mechanically. The heat from the mug he offered her made her palms sting. “What have you done?”

“Paid our counselor to fuck with your head. And to find suitable specimens to fuck you.” He smiled, cold and thin. “To bring you to heal since you act like a bitch in heat.”

Lil waited. She should be angry, but she was too numb. Still, she managed enough of something to say, “If it bothers you so much, divorce me.”

He laughed. “Do you really think that’s an option?”

“So I’d get half of everything. You make enough to replace it.”

“Divorced men don’t make partner. I’ve worked too hard to throw my next promotion away because my pretty little housewife is a cheating cunt. No. This way you’re discreet enough, so my superiors shouldn’t find out about you. And I get to watch you struggle with yourself. It’s quite entertaining.”

Her grip on the mug tightened. Angry. She was honestly angry. Finally! “Maybe I’ll tell them. Your superiors. Will you make partner then?”

“You’d have to remember this conversation for that to be a valid threat. And since you never do, I’m not worried.” He picked up the paper again. “Drink your coffee, sweetling. Then go take a shower. You’re filthy.”

She wanted to throw the coffee at him, pictured it, but the raised newspaper was an effective shield, so the fantasy wasn’t satisfying. So she drank it even though it was too hot and burned her tongue and throat. She would remember this time. Remember and when the right moment came, she would—

—smile and shake hands with the head of Albert’s law firm. He was surprisingly young, a mere forty-five, handsome and well-built with just a touch of grey at his temples. His smile was warm and inviting, and Lil could pretend he held the handshake just a tad too long. “Your husband’s been doing great work. He’ll make partner soon at this rate.”

Her smile widened, and something inside her burned through to...a scrap of a memory, of Albert smiling, cold and cruel, of Albert taunting her. “Is that so?” She cocked her head coyly. “Well, I may be biased, but I’d love the opportunity to tell you just how much he deserves it.”

His eyes widened momentarily, and he licked his lips. “Perhaps we can take a moment later on this evening?”

“You just come find me.” She could feel the words already, a hot brand in the back of her throat. Yes, she’d take that moment, and she’d use it to make sure Albert got everything he deserved.