The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My cell phone started ringing before I got out of the shower Friday morning. Joe, of course. I let it go to voice mail. Repeatedly.

I was being stupid. Sooner or later—sooner, in all probability—I was going to have to face Joe and tell him something. But what? ‘Hey, sorry I boffed your wife; my bad’? How the hell do you atone for that?

Then again, maybe Joe would be the one guy who would understand. He had to know from experience how easily things can get out of hand. He could have ...

Could have set me up with a willing woman I could call on to take the edge off, I finished to myself. Someone like Audrey, perhaps?

Fuck.

I’d been treating Audrey like my personal call girl—someone to stick my cock into when it was convenient and to ignore otherwise. Well, that was something I could at least do a little about. I grabbed my cell and dialed.

“Sam?” The surprise in her voice was clearly audible. “Good morning!”

“Morning. Look, I know it’s kind of short notice, but I feel an overpowering urge to take you to dinner and I’m leaving town for that show tomorrow. Are you free tonight?”

“Dinner? You mean, like a real date?”

I paused. Was that reproach in her voice, or something else? “Well, yeah, I suppose you could call it that.”

Then she laughed and relief flooded through me. “I’d like that very much,” she replied. “Pick me up at seven?”

“I will,” I promised. “And Audrey?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

Leah was waiting for me when I got to my desk. “There you are,” she said, tossing an SD card in its little plastic case onto the desk. “All the specs you asked for, background on the execs, plucked web pages, all in a neat little package you can use from your mini.”

“You’re the best,” I said, and I meant it. Without Leah I’d have spent all week chasing down that material instead of setting things up for the show and, equally importantly, laying the groundwork for my promotion.

Leah was still there, smirking. “Okay, spill it,” I told her.

She bent in and whispered, “Owen Thompson was in Chad’s cube early this morning.”

Owen is the IT security guy. Nobody wants to see him at their desk, because if he’s around it typically means they’ve done something incredibly stupid, like opening one of those ‘I love you’ file attachments. “Was he?”

The twinkle in Leah’s eye was nearly blinding. “Yes! And he had that patented weary, why-are-people-so-stupid look on his face, too.”

I returned her gleeful smirk with a cautiously measured one of my own. “Very interesting. You’ll keep me posted while I’m in Vegas, won’t you?”

“Bet on it!”

As Leah slipped back to her desk, I relaxed. I had been fully prepared to tip off the IT manager myself if I had to, but it was even better coming from someone else. Didn’t really matter who—Chad had so many unhappy subordinates that whoever it was had plenty of cover.

By late morning I was immersed in the material Leah had dug up for me. When my desk phone rang I picked it up without even thinking first. “Maskell.”

“You’re not answering your cell.”

Fortunately, the voice belonged to my stepdaughter Jenny, not Joe. “Forgot to turn it on, I guess. Sorry. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I heard a giggle. “I’m feeling rebellious.”

“I see. Do you have any particular form of rebellion in mind?”

“I don’t know,” she replied in a teasing tone. “All kinds of devious ideas are flooding through my mind. I think I need some firm step-paternal guidance to keep me out of mischief. And some pizza. Mushrooms, green peppers, black olives—”

“And no dead fish,” I completed for her. “Do you think you can resist the temptation to mayhem for another hour and then meet me at Mama Ziti’s?”

“No promises on the mayhem, but I’ll be there.”

I tried to slip out a little early for lunch but ran into Chad by the elevator. “Ready for the CES, Sam?”

“Oh, yes,” I assured him. “Leah got me the background data I need and I’ve got some interviews set up already. I just have to pack and go.”

“Melissa says you haven’t talked to her yet. Remember, you’re going as her mentor; I’d like to see a closer working relationship with the two of you.”

Shit—I’d forgotten completely about Melissa. “We’ll have a sit-down before the opening, I promise. Divide and conquer is always the best approach. Thanks for the heads-up.”

As I patted Chad on the shoulder I projected a few interesting search terms into his head and sent him off to Google them.

Jenny’s favorite pizza joint was a bit of a schlep from my office, which was probably just as well since I was still ducking Joe. He’d stopped calling, but that didn’t mean anything was resolved.

She was already waiting for me at a table near the window. Jenny grinned and waved at me as I entered the place and sat across from her. There was already a glass of something at my seat.

“Root beer,” she said with a nod to the glass. “And I took the liberty of ordering for us because I know you’ll be in a hurry.”

“Very considerate of you, sweetie.” I couldn’t help but smile back; it’d been too long since I’d seen Jenny.

We spent a few minutes catching up on Jenny’s day to day—school, boyfriend, job—until the pizza came. Then the aroma of homemade crust, abundant cheese, and Jenny’s favorite toppings put our stomachs in command for a bit. By the time she’d downed her third piece she was ready to talk.

“So tell me,” she began. “What did you do?”

That brought me up short. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“Do I really have to? Okay, fine. Mommy Dearest has been stomping around the house all morning cursing your name. You must have done something to cause that, and I’m intrigued enough to ply you with pizza and root beer to find out what.”

To touch her I’d have had to lunge across the table, so I’d have to get by on my bluff skills alone. “I did hear that she may be having some trouble with her lawyer, but I can’t claim responsibility for that.”

“No? That sounds like exactly the sort of thing you’d do: something to obstruct the process without confronting her directly.”

Did I mention that Jenny’s a smart girl? “Not this time,” I lied. “You give me too much credit for deviousness, my dear. Or maybe your mother does.”

I gave her my best sincere face while she thought about it. “Okay,” she allowed, “you’re probably right. Besides, lately she can’t have a bad hair day without it somehow being your fault. I’m disappointed, though—I really wanted to see you showing some of your old backbone. You deserve better than her.”

“That’s sweet and noble of you to say,” I answered. “But admit it, you were really just hoping it was something you could use yourself.”

“That, too,” she chuckled. “Somebody’s got to remind her that she doesn’t rule the world just yet.”

“She rules yours, remember.”

Jenny made a mock retching motion. “Only for another five months and twelve days. Then I’ll be a legal adult and able to hang out with whoever I want. Even you.” I started to protest, but she was ready. “I know, I know, she’s my mother and I should love her and you won’t condone my being disobedient or disrespectful, yadda, yadda, yadda ... Leave it, Sam. I’ve known my mom a lot longer than you have and I do love her, but I’m also old enough to know her for what she is.”

“Five months and twelve days?” I quoted to lighten the mood. “Not that you’re counting or anything.”

“Of course not,” she said with a wink.

There was a spring in my step for the rest of the afternoon. Not only had my encounter with Desmond Oakes proved a success, but I’d made it through the entire lunch without using the power on Jenny. It didn’t exactly make up for my screwing Alice, but at least I could still say I had some standards.

That gave me the strength to contact Joe—by text, admittedly, to avoid hearing his voice—and suggest meeting for a drink right after work. He agreed, and we found ourselves back at our favorite pub shortly after five. There was just enough crowd to provide sound cover for a private conversation, though the place would fill up quickly on a Friday night.

I didn’t even wait for the first round to arrive. “Look, Joe ... I don’t know what to say. Lately I’ve been letting my cock think for me too much, and I’m finding out that it’s dangerous to do that when your passing thoughts can end up in someone else’s head. You didn’t give me this ability so I could fuck any woman who’ll hold still, and I have tried to be ... discreet. Alice was an accident. We were talking about Nina, I got emotional, I started remembering from before, and ... well ...”

“You compelled her to give you a blow job,” he finished for me. “I got the story from Alice. She was crying so hard it took her an hour to get through it. She still doesn’t know why it happened but she thinks it was her idea.”

“Oh, shit, Joe. Look, do you want me to fix it? I can make her think—”

“No!” His look was sharp enough to stop me in my tracks. “No, I don’t want you to fix anything. I want you to leave her alone. Stay away from her until you’ve passed on the power to someone else. I can deal with the rest. Fair enough?”

Wait a minute, I thought. Just 24 hours ago my cock was in your wife’s mouth, and you’re ready to move on already? That made no sense to me, unless ... “You were expecting this, weren’t you?”

Joe’s shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily. “I don’t know, maybe. Part of me wants to rip your balls off and feed them to you, but I can’t help thinking that I might have brought this on myself. I know what the power can do to your head, Sam. For me it was like a kind of feedback loop—the more I used the power, the hornier I got, until I just had to grab the nearest woman and fuck her silly. I lost count of how many in the first month or two. And knowing that, and knowing your history with her, I didn’t insist on being there with the two of you. I should have.”

“And I should have paid attention to what you were trying to tell me with Audrey. I thought I was in control, and I wasn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck things up with you. You don’t deserve that.”

“Maybe I do.”

I sat up straight and stared. “What the fuck?”

Joe was twiddling his coaster and staring into its cork center. “Maybe I do,” he repeated. “I never told you this because I didn’t know how before. But now ... " He met my gaze and his face went flat. “You know the old saying about how what goes around comes around?”

My jaw opened as the realization hit me. “Nina?”

He just nodded and frowned.

“You fucked Nina.”

Joe remained silent.

“Before or after she left me?”

Our beers arrived at precisely the wrong time. I handed the waitress a twenty and told her to keep the change just to get rid of her quickly. Joe sipped from his glass, gulped, and answered the lingering question. “Before. I didn’t want to—well, okay, on some level I must have wanted to. But I didn’t plan it.”

“Like me and Alice?”

“Close enough. I really don’t think going into detail is a good idea.”

I thought for a minute about Joe and Nina, sweating and grunting on our bed, and felt my stomach lurch to the left. “Agreed.”

That sickly feeling was still with me when I got to Audrey’s. Then she answered the door in a white halter dress that took my mind in a whole different direction, and by the time we got to the restaurant I was able to hold up my end of the conversation without incident.

We had a pleasant dinner, followed by a nice little stroll around the neighborhood, and then a quiet drive back to her place. I’d almost forgotten what a civilized date could be like; it was very nice. Even the knowledge that Audrey had been more or less brainwashed into liking me didn’t put a damper on it.

I parked the car in front of her building and leaned toward her for a kiss. “Thank you for letting me do this,” I said.

Audrey gave me a quizzical look. “Are you saying goodnight?”

“That’s the gist of it,” I confessed.

“You’re not coming up with me?”

I gulped. “Wasn’t planning on it. I thought maybe you’d rather take things a little more slowly.”

For answer, she pulled me towards her and wrapped me up in a kiss that should have steamed up the windows. “Think again,” she told me, and proceeded to stroke Sam Junior through my pants until it became clear that he would do the thinking for me.

We actually made it to Audrey’s bedroom for the first time. It was neat and tasteful, with just the right number and size of pillows on the four-poster bed. We undressed each other slowly and eased ourselves down into the middle of the bed for an extended cuddle, which turned into a grope, which turned into me putting Audrey’s legs over my shoulders and going down on her until I couldn’t wait anymore. I reared up and brought Sam Junior into play; his thrusts and a little help from my finger on Audrey’s button ensured that she came before I did.

Afterwards we lay together panting and cuddling, until Audrey kissed my shoulder and said, “That was worth waiting for. I might just let you keep doing that.”

That brought on a sharp pang of post-coital guilt. “Look, Audrey ... I should have told you up front—”

“That you’re married,” she finished for me. “I know; I saw the ring, and I’m okay with it. Joe told me that you’re getting divorced soon.”

“Maybe,” I corrected. “It’s not certain yet.”

Audrey rolled over and propped herself up on my chest. “He told me that, too. Can I offer you the benefit of my experience? When one person in a relationship says it’s over, it is. You can’t make your wife love you, Sam. The best you can do is let her go and start living your own life again.”

“And what makes you such an expert?”

She held up her left hand and wiggled the third finger. Sure enough, a faint band of lighter skin encircled the area just above the base. “Eight years,” she told me. “I thought for sure he’d get tired of screwing his assistant and come back to me. I was half right; he got tired of screwing his assistant and moved on to a 24-year-old bartender with fake tits.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

She pulled me closer and kissed me again. “Don’t be. I’m over it. And if you’ll let me, I can help you get over yours.”

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. Yeah, I know—there I was naked with Audrey, plus having just recently screwed my best friend’s wife, and yet I was still pining for Nina. Love is not rational.

“I know. And I’m not going to push. In fact, I want you to go to Vegas for your show and forget about all of it for a few days. Geek out over electronic toys. Ogle the show girls. Do things you wouldn’t dream of doing. Remember, what happens in Vegas stays there, so give yourself permission to play. Live a little.”

Seemed like good advice to me.

When I got home there was a plain white envelope in the mail from my lawyer’s office. It was the wrong time of the month for a bill and too soon to be anything related to Desmond Oakes, so I opened it right away.

Inside was a brochure from a divorce mediation service and a note from my lawyer.

Sam,

This is the mediator that you and Nina agreed to see as part of the pre-settlement order. I know you’re reluctant, but it will look better for you if you keep the appointment as ordered. We can talk when you get back from your work trip if you need to.

I dropped the letter on the kitchen table and sat down with a beer to contemplate my options. The purpose of a divorce mediator is to give a divorcing couple every chance to determine their own division of assets and things. By keeping that appointment I would be tacitly conceding that the divorce was going to happen, like it or not. I still wasn’t ready to agree to that.

Then again, Sammy, I thought, flexing my right hand, that meeting might be your only chance to see Nina face to face before it’s too late.

People do change their minds, after all.