The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bryson Arnold hated his fiancee Selena Kelley’s friends. They were stodgy, boring elitists with rarely a good thing to say about anyone besides themselves. They loved them some “them.”

As a self-made man, not someone who came into money by just being born into it, he respected those that worked hard for a living and didn’t rely on “contributions” from their families.

Selena wasn’t at all like her friends, or their respective significant others. Despite going to a university that, based on Bryson’s personal experience with their alumni, catered to the rich and pompous, Selena was a kind, down-to-earth, wonderful, and intelligent woman. That’s why he asked her to marry him. His only hesitation, really, was the crowd of sycophants and harpies she seemed to run with. In his experience, most friend groups had the “bitch”—the one woman who would tell it like it is with a barbed-wire tongue. Selena’s group seemed to be the exact opposite, with only Selena holding up the decent and compassionate side of things.

His absolute least favorite thing in the entire world was hosting them for dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Keeping a pleasant look on his face while they spoke required more effort than he thought he had in him. It was abundantly clear on his first meeting with them that they did not care for him one bit. He knew from some texts that he’d accidentally spied on Selena’s phone that they were quite open in their very negative and wholly unfounded criticisms of him. Some because “he’s black.” Some just because they disapprove in concept. At least Laura and Annie did. Their men, Alex and Everett respectively, seemed to let the women take the lead in this arena.

There was also something about the way they would throw about barbed criticisms without care that annoyed him.

What annoyed him the most? They never hosted, not a single one of them. They never contributed. They would speak of their vast fortunes—their cars, their houses, their help, their vacations—but never give even a penny toward the efforts made to feed and amuse them.

But… it made Selena happy.

And Selena’s happiness was his central goal in life.

He’d do… anything…

He’d sacrifice… everything…To keep her happy.

The last party ended with the straw that broke the camel’s back. He was more than tough enough to withstand whatever they threw at him, but at that last gathering, they had the nerve to criticize Selena’s body—a lovely, all-natural body those two shrews wished they had.

“You must be truly happy,” Laura said at the doorway, nearly out of our lives for a nice bit of time, “because you’re putting on some serious pudge weight.”

Not “goodbye.”

Not “thank you”—for hosting, for friendship, for anything, really.

Just that.

He watched the love of his life judging herself in the mirror, examining her body for nonexistent and completely made up pudge, and vowed that he would undo these horrible people.

More importantly, he wanted them to actually undo each other.

The “how” was the tricky part.

He either needed a whole lot of dirt for some drawn out blackmail scheme or he needed a little bit of magic.

Who knew that it would be the latter?

Bryson discovered a site created by someone called The Weaver through his assistant Max. He wouldn’t have known about it in the slightest had Max not been goofing off researching it during office hours.

It would seem that a cousin of his discovered it and said that it “granted wishes through the power of story.”

That sounded like a whole lot of hooey to him, until he started to do his own follow-up research on the internet. It was hard to find, unless you really knew what you were looking for, but it was there if you were persistent enough. Persistence is definitely a quality he possesses. He couldn’t have pulled himself up by the bootstraps if that wasn’t engrained in his DNA. Once discovered, he went down The Weaver rabbit hole and debated which of his “tools” would best serve my purposes.

Ultimately, he pulled up Mad Libby on his computer and synced it to their home assistant in the living room in order to use it as a microphone. All he had to do was turn that on and whatever was said would be used to populate the fill in the blank aspects of the quiz.

Their very own words would be their undoing.

This was the first dinner party Bryson was keen on hosting for them.

Bryson greets Laura Dunn and Alex Payne at the door first with his standard, “So nice of you to come.”

It’s adaptable to include any gifts, or food, or beverage that they may someday bring, but to date, they’ve only brought themselves.

Laura is a petite blonde with slightly enhanced, injected lips and modest paid-for breasts. This woman who never met a doctor she couldn’t engage in some personal improvement had the gall to criticize anything about his lovely Selena. He’s sure her dress and shoes cost more than his entire college education. She’d probably see that assessment as a compliment.

Though he looks like a brute, Alex is actually the nicest of the bunch. It’s weird to see that he’s completely henpecked by a much smaller, less kind woman. Bryson is sure, if he ever got Alex alone, he would find out that he’d lost some sort of gentleman’s agreement and, being a person of honor, had to partner up with Laura. Bryson supposes that this could be why he’s never popped the question—it’s his minor escape clause and he’s using it to its fullest potential for as long as he’s able.

Couple number two—Annie Tran and Everett Pierce—arrive, shortly thereafter.

Annie is a tiny, slender girl of Vietnamese origins with long dark brown hair with subtle highlights, dark brown eyes, a lovely mouth and a perfect smile. As pleasant as her outsides, her insides are equally as mean. Bryson’s never heard her say a nice thing to anyone. The only time he sees that perfect smile is when a camera (or camera phone) is involved. Otherwise, it’s judging scowl 24-7. Annie keeps Everett around because he’ll buy her anything she wants.

Everett looks like the blond frat boy Bryson wouldn’t allow to give a drink to his sister without constant supervision through the whole process of pouring and delivery. Everett keeps Annie around because, in his own words, “Asian chicks look young a lot longer than other ones.”

Dinner, though a feat of culinary art which Selena spent hours preparing, gets mild nods in response. Each disapproving gaze or lack of pleasantry further cements his plans for the evening.

A couple of cocktails and the six are finally sitting around the living room sectional and Bryson can get things started.

“I was wondering if you all might be okay with a new game,” Bryson says to the group.

Alex asks, “What’s the game?”

“We make statements about one another. It’s like spin the bottle, but instead of kissing, there’s truth.”

Laura asks, “Where’s the fun in the truth?”

Selena, apparently finally fed up with Laura’s attitude, snaps at her, “We feed you. You judge us. It’s not a fair balance. If Everett wants to play a game, we play a game. No grumbling.”

Her friends aren’t used to Selena raising her voice, so they merely nod in response.

Bryson activates the device connected to his laptop and says, “We will only be able to say the truth about each other.”

He believes that this will protect them from anything beyond revealing what they actually are, but doesn’t account for what’s being said instantly becoming the truth, making that particular attempt at safety ill-conceived and potentially harmful.

“Who wants to go first?” Bryson says, holding an empty Pinot Noir bottle.

He’s not surprised that Laura volunteers and promptly hands the bottle to her.

Laura spins it and it points to Bryson. “Bryson—You must be magical in bed for Selena to keep your ass around. The way she talks about you, it’s like you can make a woman cum with just a look.”

Laura smirks, goes to hand the bottle back to Bryson, locks eyes with him, and experiences a spontaneous mini-orgasm, which she attempts to cover with a faked coughing fit. Bryson, realizing what’s happened, tries not to make eye contact with any of the women at the table and hopes that he can find a way to “edit” that out later on.

He takes a deep breath, spins the bottle, and watches it land on Selena. He doesn’t look up when he says, “Selena—You’re so much better than these people you call your friends.”

Selena sits up straighter, prouder. Bryson is unaware that she is also now everything he hates about her friends—condescending, manipulative, judgy, and an all-around bitch—but just a little bit more so. She grabs the bottle before Bryson can even offer it, firm in her belief that she’s entitled to everything she wants. Her spin lands on Alex.

“Alex—You need to stand up for yourself to Laura from now on. She doesn’t control you, you control her.”

Alex also sits up straighter, growing a backbone (figuratively) that he’s lacked since he started his relationship with Laura. Selena lets Alex grab the bottle from the table, making no effort to help him.

Alex spins and it lands on Everett. “Everett—You’re an incredibly stupid racist.”

Everett’s face goes slack, losing whatever intelligence he previously possessed.

Laura watches as Everett sits there, thoughtlessly, for a couple seconds before she yells at him, “Grab the bottle and spin it, dummy.”

Everett does as commanded. He’s smart enough to understand what it means when it lands on Annie or at least he’s somehow compelled to keep the game going. “Annie—Get bigger boobs.”

Annie’s minor chest expands in response, sporting large, natural breasts, big enough to be worthy of being called boobs. She seems to take it in stride, but hefting her breasts with her hands, Selena, Laura, and Alex come to realize that their words have power.

Annie spins the bottle and everyone but Everett anxiously waits to see who it will land on. It lands on Laura.

“Laura—you’re the most fake person I’ve ever met.”

Laura’s appearance shifts dramatically. Her previously barely noticeable surgeries to enhance her looks become magnified. Instead of a socialite trying to look perpetually good, she looks like a woman purposefully trying to look more and more like a blow up doll. Her breast implants double in size. She has ass implants. Her hair is now a platinum color that doesn’t exist in nature. Her skin has a permanent shine to it. Her lips are so full, they look to constantly form an “O” and, to look at her, you’d have to wonder how much her face can move with expressions, if at all.

“You should talk. The way you look, your name must just be Boobs.”

No one in the room or in her entire life remembers the name ‘Annie Tran,’ they only know her now and believe they’ve only ever known her as ‘Boobs.’

But Laura doesn’t stop there, “I see how you’re all looking at me. I know that everyone at this table wants to fuck me because I’m so fucking beautiful.”

She was speaking from her personal truth, her raging ego, but now the gaze of everyone in her presence shifts from various degrees of hate, resentment, or disgust to across the board full-on lust.

Alex also follows her lead and ignores the bottle, stating, “Laura—you and I are going to fuck while everyone else watches.”

Alex sweeps the table clear with his arm and pulls Laura down onto it. He rips her clothes off her body, revealing her fake tits and shaved snatch. Everyone greedily looks on as the pair start to shamelessly screw in front of them. Because of her words, each of them wants to have their own turn with Laura. Bryson, despite despising her, lustfully stares at her face and every time she makes eye contact with him, she orgasms loudly. By the time Alex reaches his orgasm, everyone at the table is either wet or hard.

Frustrated, Selena complains, “I don’t know why anyone would want Laura, I’ve always been better looking than her.”

The gaze of the room shifts over to Selena.

Before Bryson can say anything, Everett utters, “We fuck. You and me.”

For Selena, she fills in the blanks left by Everett’s brief statement of “we fuck” to include the past as well as the present. It only makes sense to her that she’s been fucking Everett on the side this whole time. No one man, no matter how caring or even magical they are, is enough to fulfill her needs. That’s why it’s okay for the two of them to fuck again now, even if it is in front of everyone. She starts to undress.

Bryson says, “No. Don’t.”

She knows she has to fuck Everett and can’t have anything, including her boyfriend, stopping her so she simply says, “But Bryson, you love to watch.”

Bryson doesn’t want to stand in her way anymore. He wants to help her get to the hot pipe-laying action he so loves to watch. So much so, he helps her undress and presents her to Everett, eagerly awaiting their coupling.

Everett mounts her from behind so that she’s facing her boyfriend. Each thrust sends her breasts flopping forward and her gaze up to meet Bryson’s, causing her to be in a near-constant state of orgasm.

Boobs can’t stand to see her man with another woman and she lashes out at the woman beneath him, “You must not love your boyfriend, Selena, if you’re fucking mine. You must be a real heartless bitch.”

Any love that Selena previously had for Bryson vanishes once Boobs finishes talking. Any care she’s ever had, even the capacity to simply care for someone or anyone else beyond herself, disappears as well.

Bryson looks at Boobs, angry for what he knows she’s just done, but she just breaks out into a squirming, screaming orgasm under his gaze. Feeling left out as the only woman who hasn’t received an actual good, deep-dicking this evening, she comes down enough to blurt out, “Don’t just look at me, put that magical dick inside me.”

Bryson pulls down his pants and while his dick doesn’t cause a woman to orgasm just by looking at it, when he plunges it deep into Boobs, she feels it perfectly fill her up like no other dick has before it. It easily surpasses any pleasure she’s ever derived from Everett from its first thrust. When Bryson makes eye contact while his dick is inside her pussy, she cums like she never has before. Her body doesn’t just quiver, so does her spirit and soul. She feels renewed, blessed… wonderful.

“I love you,” Boobs says as if experiencing the feeling of love for the very first time.

Bryson turns away, to look at his girlfriend Selena still enjoying her rutting with Everett. Boobs lays a gentle hand on his face, softly guiding it back to hers. Even as she cums yet again, she screams out, “And you love me! Deeply!”

She didn’t mean to tack on that last word, it just came out of her mouth because of his powerful cock, but now she feels it even deeper inside. Boobs is smart enough to take advantage of the situation. She doesn’t want anyone in this room to rob her of this happiness, so she decides to take matters into her own hands in order to feel this bliss forever. “I invited these performers, these porn stars who we’ve never met before, into our home, Bryson, so that they could fuck for our enjoyment. I know how much you like to watch and I did that as a surprise for you since our relationship is full of love and surprises. What turns you on turns me on as well. They will wordlessly finish their fucking and then leave our home, never to return, having already been paid in advance. You and I will live here in our own personal happily ever after.”

The appearances and demeanors of Selena, Laura, Alex, and Everett change slightly to match their new truth as crafted by Boobs’ statement. Their sex is more for show now than for pleasure, constantly positioning and performing for their audience of two. They’re incredibly skilled at their craft, at creating sensual spectacle because of their work as porn stars.

Knowing that they’re there for his amusement, Bryson points to Selena and Laura and says, “You fuck her.”

He has no existing feelings towards either of the women, since they’re strangers to him. He appreciates their acts on a purely voyeuristic basis, as does Boobs. There’s something more appealing to him about the “less fake one,” whose name he doesn’t know, but he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly. He enjoys watching on as Selena and Laura grind their pussies against one another, scissoring, before rotating into a 69 of tongue-fucking ecstasy. For her part, Boobs lends a hand, literally, jerking Bryson’s cock as he watches all while rubbing herself with equal fervor.

The two women enjoy their performance, miraculously finding they don’t have to fake their orgasms whenever they make eye contact with the man watching them. They substitute moans and groans for the dirty talk they’d normally do in this situation, but find they can’t.

The two men, having already finished their performance, start to get dressed in clothes, unaware that the clothes they will wear out of the condo are completely different than those they wore in—a little more showy and a lot less formal. Unbuttoned shirts will show off their powerful chests. Tight pants will showcase their enhanced assets.

Selena and Laura finish and find their slinky, nearly see-through dresses. They are neither surprised nor confused by their lack of underwear, as it suits them. They strap on obscenely tall high heels.

Now dressed, this quartet all nod to Boobs, wordlessly completing the transaction, and leave to return to lives as different as the clothes they currently wear, forever severing their connection with the two people left behind. They’re all fully committed to a life of sex and enjoyment for the camera. Selena will even win an award for best new-cum-er.

Grateful for this gift, Bryson looks to the love of his life and tells her, “Thank you.”

Boobs smiles up at him. “You’re welcome, love. I did this for us.”

Bryson touches her face and looks deep into her eyes, triggering an orgasm, but he holds her gaze, gently saying, “You are as beautiful inside as you are outside and that’s saying a lot since you are easily the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Any flaw that Boobs might have at one time saw in her form is lost, replaced by perfect symmetry. The breasts that hanged down awkwardly now perfectly fit her form. Her face has a friendly, easy smile. She glows, possessing a level of beauty that poets write about, that can launch careers or wars, but her heart belongs to the one man, Bryson, who only sees her for what she is inside—kind.

This fresh couple will have a constant, positive impact on the world around them, though their dinner parties will always be interesting as neither one of them thinks to deactivate the steadily running Mad Libby…