The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The train seems to be flying over the tracks, shrouded in darkness far below the English Channel. The Eurostar, connecting Paris and London, inaugurated nearly twelve years ago to great hubbub, is barely half full on this Monday night. I am heading back to the UK after a short fling in western Switzerland, and I figured I would take the long way back. Flying can be such a drag these days.

My name is Kurt Bauer, and I am more often than not on the road. In part, this is because of my work. I am a financial consultant, one of those jerks that rake in millions and don’t seem to work for it. Well, I’m not raking in the millions, I am far too lazy for the kind of insane hours that actually requires, but I still make enough to live comfortably, and take advantage of that special skill of mine. You see, I am a mind chameleon; I have the ability to induce women to believe that I am whomever inhabits their fantasies of the moment. It is not an exact science, far from it, but I am getting better at it with every experience. And there has been many.

I sneak a glance at my fellow travellers. The crop is rather disappointing tonight. Mostly oldish couples back from weekend vacation. Not that I’m that young myself, mind you, but I wear my thirty years quite well, thank you. Certainly better than they seem to wear theirs. Ouch, I’m getting snarky. I must be getting hungry. Low blood sugar, curse of the modern man. Thankfully they serve dinner on this coach, and the friendly staff girl dropped off a menu a few minutes ago. Cute, but not really my type. Besides, I’m hungry, and that tends to take precedence over, well, pretty much anything.

The fellow next to me is giggling over his Blackberry. Not only vacationing couples then, I amend, but overweight over-the-hill businessmen too. Great. What next? I sigh. My stomach is growling, my feet hurt, and my head is buzzing with what I recognize as the start of a migraine. With my luck, the food will be inedible. I close my eyes, and try to push the world away.

I must have succeeded, because I start when I feel a light hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes to stare into those of a beautiful girl leaning towards me with a bright smile and the uniform of a Eurostar employee. In a whole different class from the menu-dropping girl.

“I’m sorry, sir; may I interest you in some dinner?” Her accent is not quite British, and I have difficulties placing her by it. My stomach growls loudly in response to her question.

“Care to take a guess?” I smile, all charm and puppy dog eyes.

She smiles back, and reaches down into the cart in the aisle, the same kind of cart you see on airplanes. They must have started to serve dinner while I was asleep. People ahead of me are eating already, and there is a buzz in the air only heard when several people are eating at the same time. Another employee working on passengers behind me points out the choice tonight between chicken with wild rice and pasta with roasted vegetables.

My beautiful girl with the indeterminate accent looks up from her position down by the cart. I answer just before she asks.

“Chicken, please.”

She smiles, pulls the small tray out, and puts it on my tray tablet. I peek at her badge: Maya. Spanish name. She does not sound Spanish, though. Doesn’t look it either. I take her in, as she asks me if I am interested in something to drink. (“Wine, red, please.”—“Here you go, sir, a Bordeaux, pretty decent too, if you ask me.") Short black hair around a beautiful face, tanned golden skin, high cheekbones, eyes tending to be almond shaped, perfect lips that seem to break easily into smile. She may have some African blood in her, somewhere, just slightly. She’s tall, and thin. As she turns to pull the cart up the alley (“Enjoy your meal, sir”), my eyes trail down her body. Her breasts are not large, but nicely fill out her top. Small waist, curving into hips that merge into long legs wrapped in a fitted pair of uniform slacks. A quick look around confirms that she is the only crew member not wearing the long brown uniform skirt, at least on my coach. For once I don’t begrudge the choice. The pants fit her perfectly, revealing more of her legs than the long somewhat shapeless skirt would, and I admire her ass in her tight pants as she pushes the dinner cart up the aisle. My stomach growls, reminding me that eating is the first order of business.

I eat happily, ravenously, like a starving man, which I am. The food is reasonable, a notch above airline food, and the wine is indeed pretty good. Say what you will, France does have some good points. I steal a glance to my Maya every time she passes by, and she must have noticed, for she gives me a smile whenever I catch her eye.

I overhear her talking with an older lady two seats ahead. The lady asks Maya whether she is from New Zealand, something to do with her accent. Maya laughs a bright laugh that sounds like rain falling in a late autumn (my cock stiffens upon hearing it, the stomach being satisfied other parts clamor for attention) and replies that she gets asked that often, or whether she’s Australian, or from some Caribbean island, but no, she’s British, born and raised just outside London, although she’s been living in Brussels for the past six years.

Maya is leaning towards the questioning lady, pouring tea or coffee. The man sitting across the aisle from the lady is staring at Maya’s ass. I can practically hear the thoughts going through his head, how he would love to rub his hands over the charming bum in front of him, caressing, squeezing, perhaps eliciting a wanton giggle, a moan, a groan. How he wonders what she would look like on her hands and knees in front of him, cheerfully taking his cock in, submitting to his ramming attack. How her boyfriend (husband? no ring on her finger) is one lucky fellow, bedding such a beauty every night, probably taking all sorts of liberties with her body. No mind-reading skill required here; these are the exact same thoughts running through my own mind. The only difference is that I can do something about them. And it has nothing to do with the admittedly warm smile she gave me earlier. It’s all skill, baby, all skill!

“Would you like some tea, sir?”

“That would be delightful, thank you.”

I have always enjoyed the expectation that comes from waiting for something good you know is about to happen. Think Christmas morning, only better.

So here I am, finishing my tea and debating whether to have the lemon pie slice or give it to my neighbor, who has devoured his in what I believe were quite literally two bites. See, I am nice when you feed me.

It is time to go and play with my new friend. I give my pie to my seat mate (“You sure?”—“Please... I can’t eat another bite."), grab my empty cup, and stand in the aisle after dutifully folding my tray tablet.

I stop the first employee I see. Nice, but I have my heart set on someone else right now.

“Excuse me, miss, do you happen to know where I can find Maya?”

She eyes me suspiciously for a second. I put on my best charming and inoffensive smile on, and it seems to work. I have always been somewhat laid back, and it helps a lot. The whole not looking desperate bit goes a long way.

“Maya?” She has a cute French accent. “I think she’s in the dining coach, two down that way.”

“Thank you miss, very kind.”

Laid back and polite. Oh, what the hell, toss in well groomed too. The secret of my success.

No difficulty finding the dining coach, and there is my muse, Maya, over in the corner, by one of those tables where you stand up to down a quick shot of espresso before continuing on with your day like a good European. She is going over some paperwork, her teeth gently nibbling on the eraser tip of a pencil as if it were a tiny fabulously lucky dick. Perfect. And no one around. Even better.

“Hello, Maya, can I bother you for a second?”

She looks up, eraser still in her mouth. She is nearly as tall as I am with her heeled boots, a perfect complement to her uniform. Man, can I choose them, or what?

Her eyes catch mine, and I see a smile forming on her lips. She likes me. Perhaps I can do this the old fashioned way? Oh well, I suppose I could but the erection currently building up in my pants suggests a more direct way.

“Hello, Maya,” I say again, sliding up to her.

I look her in the eyes, and she looks back. Really look. I can feel it in the back of my head, a slight tremor, like a bow being strung. The rest, I have always had a hard time putting into words. I take a deep breath, and slowly relax. The tremor increases until it seems to break through; a flooding sensation sweeps over me, warm and comforting. Maya’s eyes are closed. The flood recedes slowly, and Maya opens her eyes. She sees me, gasps.

“Jorge! What are you doing here?” She pulls me to her and hugs me close. I feel her breasts pushing against my chest, her body molding against mine.

“I missed you, baby. Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Well, that’s a wonderful surprise. Too bad I’ve still got to finish my shift here. But perhaps we can spend some time in London and play tourists when we get there; I know this place...”

She never finishes her sentence. I grab her head in my hands, pull her to me, and mash my lips against hers. Holding her breath for a second, surprised, she gives in and starts kissing me back hungrily. Her hands pull me closer, while she darts an exceedingly playful tongue in my mouth. Her hips start swaying against me, rubbing my already engorged member. She feels it, and lets a low moan escape. Jorge, Jorge, that’s a hot little spitfire you got here, you lucky bastard. Hope you don’t mind sharing some of your luck with me tonight.

Maya breaks off the kiss, breathing hard. She’s looking at me intently. I can see the arousal in her eyes, undoubtedly reflecting that in mine. That’s my cue.

“I don’t want to wait, baby. I need you now!”

I punctuate this by kissing her again. She replies in kind, all scorching heat and searching lips. She pushes herself against me, rubbing her lithe body against mine. My dick appreciates the effect immensely.

“I can’t... I’m working... Trouble, I’d get in so much trouble... Oh!” Her protests do not resist my hand sneaking up her side and gently squeezing her left breast. Perfect size it is, a handful, with a hard little nubbin of a nipple I can feel through her bra. This is going to be fun. What would Jorge do? Beg, or assert? Not that it’s really important—girls tend to be quite pliable when I’ve worked my mojo. But I like to not break character. It keeps things real, you know?

I bring my hand up to Maya’s face to caress her cheek, and she pushes back against my fingers like a cat seeking a petting. I slowly and softly run my thumb over her full lips, which part slightly. Maya’s eyes are closed, and I swear she’s purring.

“Well,” I say, “perhaps we can find something quick to take the edge off?”

Her eyes open, still full of arousal, and she looks at me. Hers are beautiful eyes, big and brown, exceedingly expressive. Right now they convey pleasure and mischeviousness. They are smiling. She understands. And likes the idea. My thumb is still lightly running over her lips. Maya gently grabs the tip with her teeth, teasingly runs her tongue over it, and slowly sucks it in, looking at me in the eyes all the while. After twirling her tongue around my thumb a few times, she slides it out, cheeks hollowed out with the suction.

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

Her smile promises wonders. Jorge, you definitely are a fucking lucky bastard. I hope you appreciate what you got here.

Surreptitiously looking around to check that no one is around paying attention, she grabs my hand and pulls me hurriedly out of the dining coach. I let myself be led, admiring her ass in her tight pants.

Hey, why be shy? “Maya,” I say, as we cross through the door leading to the next coach, “have I told you how much I love your ass?”

She turns around, still pulling me, and smiles wide.

“Told me and shown me, repeatedly and in many different wonderful ways. And as you could tell, my ass loves you right back!”

She stops by a door with a small glass window at eye level in the back of the coach, fumbles through her pocket for a few seconds, and her pants are tight enough that she has to wiggle to get her hand in, and you can just imagine what that wiggle does to her backside. I decide not to resist, and just run my hand across her ass, taking in the tightness, the firmness. She must spend a fair amount of time at the gym, I detect not an ounce of fat on that ass of hers. Just to be sure, I thoroughly examine it with both hands, rubbing and squeezing. That seems to distract Maya, who has managed to get some keys out of her pocket, but is standing up tall pushing back against my wandering hands.

I lean over and gently kiss her neck where it meets her shoulder, between her hair and the collar of her uniform. She tastes fresh, sweet. The moment my lips touch her, she moans, arches her back, grabs my head with a hand thrown back. She pulls me closer, at the same time pushing her ass back against my crotch. She must feel my cock nestled against her cheeks through the thin material of her pants.

I hear keys jiggling, Maya swearing under her breath, a deadbolt clanging, but before we manage to open the door and go through, Maya turns around without breaking the contact of my lips on her neck (I’m still wondering how she managed that one), and seeks my mouth with hers. As we settle into a scorching kiss that has my cock throbbing, she pulls me in close, getting me to slam her against the door, and rubs up and down against me, almost climbing on top of me, barely supported by an overextended left leg, her right one wrapped around me, locking me in. The temperature around us seems to go up a few degrees.

I don’t know if she reached down behind her or what, but the door suddenly opens, and we fall into the small compartment that lies beyond. She lets go at just the right moment, and I go flying in, almost colliding with a small desk against the coach’s outside wall. We seem to be in some sort of controller’s office. Maya managed to remain by the door, and while my balance, she pulls the lock, and draws a small curtain over the glass window. She turns back, looking at me in a way I can only qualify as predatory. She motions to my pants.

“Off, now.”

I can be a good boy sometimes. I smile and unbuckle my belt, looking right at her.

“And what about you?”

“No time, this will have to be quick.”

I push my pants down, bringing my boxers down with them. My cock is hard, sticking out in a way that would be funny at any other time. Maya does not think it funny. She is fascinated, transfixed. That’s not skill, just endowment, I’m afraid.

“Maya.”

“Mmmm?” She nods, slowly, still fixed on my cock.

“Maya, take your top off. I’d like to see you.”

That seems to snap her out of her trance. She looks up at me, a small smile on her lips. God, that woman has the most perversion-inducing smile I have ever seen, and I have seen many.

“Take my top off? You want to see my breasts?”

She grabs the bottom of her shirt and teasingly pulls up right below her breasts. This reveals a washboard stomach, without an ounce of fat there either. A lot of work at the gym there in those abs. And a strict diet. I admit I like.

“Yes, I want to see you. You know how much I like looking at you.”

Seeing how Maya looks, Jorge would have to be a dunce not to like looking at her. And Maya does not strike me as a girl who dates dunces.

“You drive me crazy. You are so beautiful. And those tits of yours...”

She laughs at my comment, and in one swift move pulls her shirt off before reaching back to unclasp her bra. It is a functional bra, black, but with some nice lace work. Functional and nice looking. I could fall for this girl. She hesitates, playfully.

“You sure you want to see my breasts? You know they’ll just be bouncing around when I’m blowing you. You think you can handle that?”

I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod.

She smiles again, and lets her bra fall to the ground. I’m sorry I was dismissive of her breasts earlier. I am definitely a legs and ass man, so I tend to not focus on a girl’s chest too much, but I have to say that Maya is something else. Her breasts are simply gorgeous. Not large, I was right in my assessment, but perfectly sized, standing very high on her chest, pointing slightly up, with perky little nipples. Ah, youth.

“Wow,” I say, sticking to basics.

Amazingly enough, she blushes, and her hands shoot up to cover herself up.

“Don’t!” I say. “You are just... wow.”

Blushing still, she puts her hands down, and takes the few steps separating her from me. She’s smiling, though.

“It’s like you never saw them before,” she laughs. She runs a finger down my face, down my shirt. “I remember you reacted the same way the first time,” she says, softly. Attaboy, Jorge. Maya’s finger reaches my cock which, with a mind all its own, is trying its hardest to get up close and personal.

“Oh, look, Little Jorge wants to play!” With the tip of her finger, she gently pushes my cock down and lets go, sending it bobbing up and down. Maya looks up at me, her mischievous smile back. “You think Little Jorge might like a kiss?” Said in that cute accent of hers, it sends shivers down my spine. Actually Maya, Little Jorge would like to slip between those red lips of yours and bury itself deep in that lovely mouth.

“Yes, I think he would like a kiss.”

“Okay,” Maya says, and gets down on her knees in front of me, her beautiful face just at the right height. She very softly wraps her hand around my cock, and I notice that she is perfectly manicured. Her long fingers have no problem with my girth; her touch is velvety. She gently exposes the head of my cock, and leans over to give it a gently kiss, her shiny bright red lips contrasting nicely with the darkness of my blood-gorged shaft. Her lips still on me, she looks up, eyes twinkling. I have no time to dwell on that though, because she chooses that moment, her eyes still locked on mine, to let my cock slide between her lips into the moist warmth that lies beyond. And she does not stop. She sucks me in almost completely, marks a beat, then pulls back, still sucking. The feeling is wonderful.

“Yum,” she says, letting go of my cock.

“Baby, that felt wonderful.” I may be an perverted opportunist, but I like to think of myself as a nice, encouraging perverted opportunist.

She smiles. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet...”

Indeed. She proceeds to give me one of the best blowjobs of my life, gently sucking my cock in and out, jacking me off in counterpoint to her sucking. Her technique is near perfect. Deep strokes, mixed in with shallow ones during which her tongue runs circles around my cock head. The hand not stroking my cock is softly playing with my balls. Her breasts are indeed bouncing around, an arousing sight. I can feel them against the inside of my knees whenever she goes in deep. Her eyes are closed, and she seems to genuinely enjoy herself. She is beautiful. Jorge is definitely a lucky fellow.

Maya pauses after a few minutes of this and, stroking my cock enough to keep me hard but not enough to get me off (the little tease), she looks up again. My cock is shiny and there is a very thin line of spittle running from the head to her lips. I’m very visual, and I just love that image.

“So, how do you want it?” she asks.

“How do I want what?” Can’t claim to be too coherent right now. The blood is a long way from my brain.

“Your blowjob, silly. How do you want it, how do you want me?” Her hand on my cock seems to keep rhythm with her words.

“Huh?” Smooth, Kurt, real smooth.

“Do you want a nice soft suck like I’ve been doing till now?” A gentle stroke on my cock. “Do you want a sloppy blowjob with lots of spit and gagging?” A harder stroke. My cock jerks. She smiles her mischievous smile again. “Or do you want to be in charge and just fuck my face?” A still harder stroke on my cock. “Mmm... you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I suspect that yes, I’d like that, and I have a hunch that’ Jorge-boy must indulge. Can’t blame him, really. But I can find girls to face fuck easily enough, and that’s not what I’m after right now. I like Maya, she has spirit, and I bet that if I put her charge, I won’t regret it.

“Such generosity! Baby, I want you to do what you like, but the nastier the better. You know me...”

She flashes another beautiful smile. “Do I ever... One blowjob coming up, sir.” She winks at me, puckers up, and leans down towards my cock, which is more than ready to resume playing.

Maya pauses an inch from my cock. I think I let out a groan, completely unconsciously. She leans back, sitting on her heels, and tilts her head up. Her breasts slowly rise and fall with her breathing, and it’s hypnotic. I tear my eyes away; she is looking at me.

“Where do you want to come?”

Depends. “Where can I come?”

She smiles again. I don’t think I can tire of her smiles. “You can come wherever you want: my mouth, my face, my tits. It’s all yours, you know that.”

“Well, where do you think I want to come?”

“Seeing how you were distracted a few seconds ago, I bet you might enjoy coming on my tits.”

My cock jerks, nodding in agreement. Maya giggles, stroking my cock slowly.

“One sloppy blowjob with a finish of cum-covered titties coming right up!”

“Come ride the friendly rails...”

She goes down on my cock and swallows it up. If she gave me a great blowjob before, now she is just fantastic. She said sloppy, and she meant sloppy. She is pushing her head down on my cock on every stroke, and I can feel my cock head hit the top of her throat every single time. She imparts a furious rhythm to the blowjob, two medium strokes with a lot of saliva and tongue action followed by a deep stroke where she pushes down on my cock, wide-mouthed, spittle running down her chin, and making all sorts of squishy noises. She keeps that two-one rhythm the whole time. Her eyes are closed, her red lips wrapped tight around my cock when she is not trying to swallow it whole.

The spittle starts to drip down her chin and onto her breasts, which have become near shiny with it. I am sorry there is actually no time to properly strip her and fuck her. I bet she’s a great ride.

The sensations start to get too much, and my cock is getting stiffer. Maya, clearly not a novice at this, senses it and shifts into the final act. On every stroke now she goes down deep, almost continuously gagging, again and again and again.

Without being able to control myself, my hands shoot out and grab her short hair and guide her head even deeper onto my cock. I swear that on one stroke I actually enter her throat, and she nearly chokes. I let go of her hair but she does not pull back, instead starting to swallow, making me shiver. A few seconds later, she pulls back, and resumes her original rhythm. I am so close to coming by this point that it takes but a few deep strokes of her mouth before I feel the cum push up from my balls and shoot out.

The first shot hits Maya in the back of the throat on a down stroke, whereupon she pulls back lightning quick, straightens up high on her knees, and furiously jacks my cock off pointing it directly at her chest. The next several shots of my cum land on her upturned breasts, mixing up with the saliva accumulated there, making a fine mess. Maya greedily starts sucking on my cock again before I am finished, swallowing whatever leftover I have left. The feeling of her mouth back on my cock is too much for me to bear, and I very nearly stumble down from my spot against the desk.

When I can’t take it any longer—my cock gets very sensitive after release—I pull Maya off my cock. She smacks her lips, moaning. She tilts her head up to look at me, and makes a great show of scooping up some of the cum dripping off her breasts and licking it off her fingers. The rest she slowly rubs into her skin, methodically, missing nothing. “Moisturizing,” she says with a wink. Despite being completely drained, I am fascinated by her hands on her breasts, rubbing and caressing her twin globes. I can see how firm they are, how full, and I regret not having the time to enjoy them more fully.

As if on cue, the overhead speaker kicks in. “To all passengers, we are now approaching London Victoria station. Please ensure you take all your belongings with you when...” Blah, blah, blah. Maya stands up slowly, very close to me, I can feel the heat off her body. “Thank you for choosing Eurostar,” finishes the overhead voice. You’re welcome. And kudos, great service.

We have to go, people will start looking for Maya soon. Her hands are on my shoulders, her head leaning on my upper chest, positively purring. I gently push her head up, and seek her lips. She seems surprised, I guess Jorge-boy doesn’t usually kiss her after a blowjob. Take this, Jorge, you lucky bastard. Not good, a whiff of jealousy. I’m glad we have to part now, or things could get complicated. And I hate complications. All of this in the midst of a tender, sweet, loving kiss by Maya, who seems to pour her soul into this kiss. It is hard not to respond in kind.

I run my hands down her back, pulling her closer against me. My hands reach down her ass, and I confirm that it is the tightest, firmest ass I have felt up in recent memory. I rub and squeeze through her tight pants while we kiss, and this seems to turn Maya on further, if her moaning and rubbing herself up and down against me is any indication.

I break the kiss, somewhat reluctantly. “Maya, we have to go, they’ll be looking you.” She does not seem to be quite there.

“But...” She blinks a few times, calming down. “Right... Train, London, right...”

Taking a step back, she breathes in and out a few times (my eyes are drawn to her breasts that enticingly rise and fall with the action) and becomes the efficient Eurostar employee once more.

“Right, back to work.” She hunts down her bra and her shirt. I pull my pants back on. “Maya?”

“Yes?” She is making herself presentable in a small mirror conveniently hung by the door. “That was wonderful, thanks.”

She turns her head to look at me, and flashes me her beautiful smile again. “Oh, the pleasure was all mine.” Pause. “I love you.”

I smile too. “Love you too.”

“Now, scoot. I have to lock this place and take care of our arrival. I’ll see you later in the station, anyways, right? Shall we meet at the Cafe Nero, as usual?”

We leave the small office, after she made sure no one was standing about outside.

“Actually, I probably won’t have time to linger much in London. I must head back almost immediately. I just came to see you and surprise you.”

“Oh. Well, that was very sweet, and utterly crazy! I guess I’ll see you at home in two days, then? I’m coming back on the 16h40.”

“Sounds good. Have a good time in London.”

“Not half as good as if you were there.”

She gives me a quick peck on the lips, turns around, and takes off for the next coach, towards whatever preparation an arrival in London entails. I watch her lithe form, long legs, impossibly firm ass. Oh, fuck it.

“Maya?”

She stops, hand on the coach door, and turns to look at me.

“Where are you staying in London. You know, just in case?”

There’s that luminous smile again.