The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It had been almost two months since Debbie had started working, and it had been a long while since I’d seen her so happy and content with her life. There was no mind control (at least not that I was aware of), and not even a hint of a discussion about it. We hadn’t even done anything with Heather, save for a completely normal day at a local music festival; we went our separate ways at the end of the evening. My wife seemed to be determined not to use her ability, and I wasn’t going to bring it up.

We went out to a play Friday night, meeting for dinner after work and heading directly to the theater. When we returned home, the message light was blinking on the phone. She turned it on speaker as I opened a bottle of wine. “Hi—Debbie? This is Nancy, from college. Franklin and I were wondering if you’d like to—ummmm—come over for dinner tonight, but since you’re not in, I guess that’s a no. We’re also free tomorrow night, if you can make it. We’d love to see you guys again. Call us back and let us know!” The bitch sounded entirely too interested and nice for it to be completely natural. I looked at Debbie, who smiled.

“Guess she’s feeling a little—itchy,” grinned my wife.

“What did you do to her?” I asked, but got no response as she headed into the bedroom and closed the door, only to reappear a moment later with her long holder and a lit More in it. “Are you trying to distract me from my line of questioning?” She took a long draw and posed for the exhale, silently encouraging me to watch, and then gave me her best “innocent coquette” smile. “I’ll take that as a yes,” I answered, “and—” My wife drew again, exhaling deliberately. “—it’s working.”

“Got any plans for dinner tomorrow night? You’d definitely find out then,” she mysteriously husked. Her smile grew, obviously taking great delight in the battle between lust and curiosity that was playing on my face.

“I do now,” I replied, before lust won the battle in a rout.

“So,” Debbie began as we got ready for our dinner with Dickhead and the Bitch, “do you want to do this naturally, or do you need a little—push?” She looked at me, no hint of coercion on her face; she was expecting an honest answer.

“Am I going to wind up sore in the same places as I did the last time?”

“There’s a high probability,” she replied, unsmiling.

“You know I don’t find her attractive on anything more than the basest physical level,” I returned. “I can’t say that I’m comfortable with this whole thing. She’s such a bitch that she doesn’t even register on the smoking fetish scale, and she wouldn’t even with a long holder and Mores. Why don’t you just bring a couple of dildos and a harness? Then you could humiliate her by fucking her yourself and be done with it.”

“Because I hadn’t thought of that when I plotted this,” she answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “And, to be quite honest, for those two? A ‘bang-and-it’s over’ humiliation isn’t good enough. I need to change her, and make her feel victimized. She’s been too high-and-mighty for too goddamn long.” My wife took a breath, and calmed herself down before pulling me to sit next to her. “I need you because you know how to take advantage of mind control. I want you with me because I want you to share this with me. You can put her in her place because,” my wife sighed, “you are the only male I can trust to not fall for her charms. She’s blonde, beautiful, and sexy in that beautiful-blonde girl way-and extremely skilled at manipulating men. She thinks that she can steal you because she’s prettier than me, and it’s going to frustrate her to no end when she can’t.” Debbie gave me a kiss on the cheek, and we resumed our preparations. “You look fine,” she smiled as I fussed with my shirt, “we don’t want to be late for dinner.”

We left the apartment, me wondering where we were headed beyond the immediate. “Debbie, I know that this makes sense in your head somehow, and that I don’t understand everything that’s going on up there,” I said as we headed for our erstwhile slaves’ home.

She nodded brightly. “If I’ve done this right, it’ll all make sense afterwards.” She smiled briefly. “If nothing else, consider this your Grasshopper’s final exam in mind control.”

Nancy greeted us, or rather, me at the door, immediately linking her arm with mine and leading me into the dining room, enthusing, “We’re so happy you could come, Ray!” Debbie followed without fanfare or comment, seemingly not disturbed in the least by her college nemesis’ snub. For his part, Dickhead’s eyes gave away his pleasure at seeing my wife again even as he shook my hand and addressed me. “I thought that tapas would make for an entertaining meal; I had it catered tonight—well, I do every night because I don’t really cook—but these are from Little Mexico which is the hottest tapas spot in town and I know the owner...” Her fawning could have been flattering; it would have been in another setting, but I knew that it was the result of some adjustment my wife had made, and even though I didn’t know what the exact changes were, it was obvious that something was different about Nancy. I worried that these alterations had already caused the people around her to have questions about her mental state.

Dinner was a surreal experience. Nancy’s obvious longing looks combined with Debbie’s indifference to make me feel very strange indeed. “Oh, Ray, you’ve got to taste this one,” Nancy offered, holding out a mini-tortilla with something on it. She gently thrust it towards me, indicating that I should let her feed me. I gave my wife a quick, helpless glance, and received the barest of nods in return, so I did. Nancy smiled in an attempt to be fetching, apparently pleased that I had taken her offer. I wondered what other offers Debbie wanted me to accept. It would only get worse from here.

After dinner, Debbie announced that she’d like some ice cream, and Dickhead immediately volunteered to accompany her to the not-quite-nearby Ben and Jerry’s. To my surprise, neither woman protested. Great. Just me and the shark for about an hour, I gloomily thought as Debbie left with Dickhead gallantly leading the way. I felt a momentary surge of jealousy even though I knew she wasn’t going to do anything with him—or was she? I pushed the thought away and put a false smile on my face as the door closed. “Would you like an after-dinner cigar?” Nancy immediately offered. “I have several different ones here, there’s a tobacconist a couple of blocks away, and they’ve been wonderful to me. “I don’t have a favorite yet,” she apologized, “because I’m still learning about them.” I nodded, not wanting to seem strange and she headed to her humidor.

She carefully lit mine before selecting one for herself; the incongruous sight of someone so prissy punching a nine-inch, fifty-something ring cigar almost made me laugh, at least until she quite expertly brought it to life. Finally, when she could take a full drag, she held the strong smoke before exhaling. I felt blood move quickly—too quickly to be entirely normal. Debbie had blue-pilled me. “So,” said Nancy, settling onto a chair in that oh-so-rich-bitch way, “tell me about how you met Debbie. What was it that attracted you to her?”

I told her that we had lived next door to each other, and that I thought Debbie cute, and her shy smile, charming. Then we met and I thought that she was an incredibly wonderful person. “Pardon me for saying this, Ray, but... you’re not the type of guy I thought that she’d—end up with,” Nancy cautiously began. “Forgive me, and I don’t mean to embarrass you, but you’re kinda sexy. I have a hard time believing that no other woman had managed to snare you before now. I mean, you certainly must have had your share of offers.” She dragged on the cigar and exhaled a very visible thick stream of smoke through pursed lips. I got harder, cursing my wife and her ability to make me take pills without knowing it and shifted in my seat as discreetly as possible. “It surprises me that someone who—looked more like me— wouldn’t have gotten your attention first.” Nancy leaned back in her seat and dragged again, pushing her chest forward as she exhaled.

I equivocated, sensing that she was coiling for the strike, not feeling much in control of anything right then. “I mean, if I had seen you at a club or something and you had glanced my way, I certainly would have given you an invitation,” Nancy continued. “Do— slender—women not interest you?” The worry in the question and her eyes revealed everything. Suddenly, I realized the nature of Debbie’s game and my role in it. I answered that I was not exclusively a BBW lover, and that rekindled the predatory light in Nancy’s eyes. Our verbal fencing was joined as I parried her increasingly innuendo-filled questions with non-committal responses that could have been interpreted as leading. It became increasingly obvious that Nancy was trying to seduce me, and she was running out of time—her husband and my wife would be back soon.

“I’d think that a guy like you—would want to be in charge,” Nancy cooed, turning up the heat, “and Debbie doesn’t seem to be the—shy type any more. She’s changed a lot since college.” Boy, you don’t know the half of it, I mused. “I know that—Franklin—doesn’t always—do what I’d like,” she confided. “Sometimes, he just doesn’t take charge enough, y’know, every so often you’d like to—be the opposite. I mean, sometimes, I just want someone—to tell me what to do.” I heard the frustration in her voice, and if it hadn’t been for the predatory interest in her eyes, I might have had some sympathy, but it was clear that she’d just changed tactics. The phone rang before she could say anything else.

When Nancy came back in, she said, “They’re on their way back now. Long line at the ice cream store.” I uttered a completely non-committal, “OK,” and finally her frustration turned into desperation. “Look, Ray,” Nancy said, leaning over me and putting her cleavage almost at eye level, “I know you like submissive women, and I can do submissive. I’m sure I can do it better than Debbie can, and I’m more than willing to prove it to you. You can tie me up, whip me, anything you want. Just tell me, and I’ll show you what a real woman is like.” She re-lit her almost-forgotten cigar.

Haughty begging. Now if that isn’t an oxymoron. Let’s see just how far she’s willing to go. “Don’t think that I’m not interested, Nancy, but you can’t do what I need,” I stated. “I don’t require blood. I don’t just take a woman’s body, but her mind, too. And until you’re willing to give me that, you’re not worth my time. I can get everything else from Debbie.”

“My mind?”

“Exactly,” I said. “You have to give me your will, show me your submission by doing everything I tell you to. No exceptions, no buts. If you want this—” I indicated the bulge in my pants. “—then that’s what you have to do.”

“I don’t know if I can... do that,” she said, her eyes fixed on the bulge.

I told her that I could make it easy for her. “All you have to do is be willing to give up control completely, and let me take it from you, since hypnosis can be self-induced. I’ll make it easy for you to get to the state where all you want to do is to obey my every command. That’s something that Debbie can’t do for me.” Not any more, anyway.

“I need you to fuck me in the ass,” Nancy breathed, licking her lips, still focused on the outline of my erection in my pants. “Would I feel it?” I assured her that she would most definitely feel it and figured that this was probably my wife’s doing. “OK, I want to do this as long as you promise me that you’ll fuck me in the ass. How do we start?”

As motivated as she was, it didn’t take more than ten minutes to put her into a deep trance. I set a trigger to send her back into trance, gave her some post-hypnotic commands that I figured Debbie would appreciate, and partial amnesia. When Nancy came to her senses, she finished her cigar while gently caressing herself through her clothes, giving me incendiary looks. The room filled with as much sexual tension as cigar smoke, which vanished when Debbie and her thrall opened the door.

My wife gave me a kiss, “Oh, you didn’t wait for me,” she pouted with a wink, noting the half-finished cigar next to me.

“I’m sorry, Debbie,” Nancy insincerely apologized, “I should have waited for you so you could share this with your husband. Would you like to join us now? I think I want another one, and as I was telling Ray, I have a nice selection.” Dickhead glared at her. Debbie politely declined, removing a Lancero from her pocket humidor. “Aren’t slim cigars hotter?” Nancy immediately asked. Debbie nodded, and got a brief lecture on why fat cigars were superior before being allowed to let me light hers. I watched Dickhead’s reaction—it was captivation as my wife exhaled her first full puff from her Lancero. In the meantime, Nancy was selecting another large cigar and preparing it to smoke. “Franklin, would you please?” she asked.

His interest in Debbie turned into a withering stare at his wife. I wondered if she noticed the difference in his reactions and prepared to pull the ripcord on her consciousness, figuring that Debbie could cover Dickhead. Instead, Debbie suggested that I light Nancy’s cigar. I did, drawing a baleful look from Dickhead, but as his wife raised her head, exhaling smoke from her nostrils, I started to get hard again, and his evil glare faded. At her second drag, inhale, and exhale, an expression that I knew well filled Dickhead’s face: he was becoming enraptured by his wife’s cigar smoking. He was watching her. And Debbie. Another of Debbie’s modifications.

“Y’know, Debbie, if I had a husband like Ray, I’d do everything I could to keep him,” Nancy said. “Make sure that another woman couldn’t just—” Nancy gave me a cigar-scented smooch on the neck. “— snatch him away by offering something he can’t get at home.” She hovered by my side, offering me her body.

“I know that he’s always going to be my husband and my best friend,” Debbie casually replied. “No matter what temptation comes his way.”

“Well, I’m sure he’d like to have a slim, sexy woman on his arm when he goes out.”

“Like you?”

“Yes, like me,” she sniffed, and cuddled closer to me. “And I can prove it.”

“Oh, really?” Debbie smiled, bemused. “And what could you possibly do for him that I can’t?”

“I can give him a girlfriend who’s submissive instead of a domineering wife,” Nancy confidently stated. The draw she took immediately afterwards kept Dickhead at bay. He was still fascinated by what the two cigar-smoking women in front of him were doing instead of what was being said. Debbie still had her bemused smile, and a twinkle in her eye. “He can make me completely submissive,” Nancy argued, “and he even told me that he can’t do that to you.”

“Is this true, Ray?” There was a note of curiosity in her voice and her face now. I nodded, and her eyes twinkled in response. “Then show me,” she stated, daring and excitement in her voice.

I stood up and walked to Nancy, stopping in front of her. “Sleepy time for the rich bitch,” I declared.

Nancy’s reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes became unfocused, she sighed, “Ohhhh... Rayyyyy,” and her eyes closed, her body going slack. Dickhead jumped up from his chair, but froze, silent, at a word from Debbie. She then put him to sleep.

“That only took you an hour?” she asked. “I’m impressed. How did you do it?”

“She’s so hot for my—erection,” I pointedly noted, “that she just convinced herself into being completely hypnotized and at my command.”

“Ray,” breathed Debbie apologetically, “you’re really amazing with that, but I need her—normal.” I opened my mouth to wake Nancy up, but my wife put her hand on my arm. “But it’s so hot when you’re evil like that. Fuck me. Now.”

“Let’s play some more with our toys now,” she throatily suggested a half-hour later. In short order, Dickhead and Nancy were awakened, and Nancy lit a fresh cigar, having been made to forget that she had just started one. The Viagra kicked right back in. “Debbie said, “So you think that my husband’s just like my college boyfriends?”

“I know he is. Men are men,” challenged Nancy. The conversation devolved into Debbie-baiting, and had it not been for Nancy’s amazingly thick exhales, I would have been completely turned off. Judging by the bulge that had formed in his pants, Dickhead was similarly turned on by the two cigar-smoking women. Finally, Nancy declared, “I’ve never met a man who would turn down a blowjob from a beautiful woman, and Ray thinks I’m beautiful.” My answering thought of, “Until I look into your black soul,” died before it could get to my mouth as she knelt before me, quickly undid my pants with a far-too-practiced ease and took my three-quarters erection in her hand. “See? He’s almost ready for me now,” she haughtily sniffed at my wife. Nancy devoured me, and my cock surged immediately in response.

I heard Dickhead gasp. I expected to see a monstrous fist headed for my face, but a quick look revealed that he was still anchored to his chair, and the expression on his face wasn’t anger or even shock: it was abject lust. If watching his wife smoke was a ten on a scale of ten, this was a twenty. Easily. I also belatedly realized that Nancy was cleaning my cock of the dried mixture of cum and Debbie’s cream from our intense bang less than an hour ago. The perversity of the revelation sent me to full hardness in seconds. I didn’t care that Nancy couldn’t throat me; I was ready to fuck something—anything.

“Fuck me inna ass,” Nancy drooled, moving to her hands and knees. “I want you to fuck me in my ass.” I glanced at my wife, who was watching us with a very evil, yet frighteningly content, smile on her face, and so without further hesitation, I pushed myself into Nancy’s already-lubricated ass. Her throaty moan was matched by one from her husband, who had moved to a closer seat, ostensibly for a better view. He was watching us intently, his hand poised over the bulge in his pants. “I bet—you—don’t—dothis—for him,” Nancy hissed at my wife. “Ohhhhh SHIT that feels good! Fuck me, Ray!”

“Isn’t this exciting?” I heard Debbie coo. She was standing next to Dickhead, and then started to whisper something to him. He stood up, moved a chair in front of Nancy, and then went back to his seat. He removed his cock from his pants and began to stroke it, even more intent on what I was doing with his wife. Debbie was just out of sight, and I knew she was whispering to him again, but Nancy’s louder encouragement and the tight feel of her ass was more important to me. The Viagra kept me from getting too distracted.

Finally, my wife sat in front of us and Nancy immediately began to taunt her, “Watch your husband fuck me in the ass,” she panted, “just like in college when we’d take your boyfriends away from you. Now I’ve got your husband deep in my ass and wrapped around my finger.” The next thing she was going to say got obliterated by a scream of pleasure caused by a particularly violent thrust. “See, slim, beautiful, rich women always get the guys and the money they have,” she managed to sneer in the middle of our fucking. “Because I know what guys want, and I can give it to them. You were too fat in college to—ohhhh shit that feelsogood—” gasped Nancy, my long, steady strokes distracting her, “—and you’re still too fat now to keep a guy. I could steal your husband if I—wanted—and I—definitely— wanna...” Her body quivered on the edge of an orgasm, but she wasn’t going to get there. Not yet.

Debbie smiled, placidly. “Oh, Dickhead,” she called, getting a gasp from her subject, “what do you think about watching your wife get fucked in the ass by somebody else?”

“It’s sooooo... fuckin’ hot,” was the reply. Debbie removed her extra-long holder and prepared a cigarette. I silently begged her not to, because I was close.

Debbie reached down and lifted Nancy’s chin. “Nancy,” she sneered, “I don’t care what you think. And I don’t care if you think you’ve got my husband, because I know I’ve got yours.” She lit the cigarette, took a regal drag, and posed. Before I could lose it, Dickhead growled and let loose a strangled, “Miiiiiissssstre-e-e-esssss,” immediately followed by a series of loud orgasmic grunts.

At the sound of her husband’s voice and his orgasm, Nancy snorted and cried, “Franklin!” It appeared that Debbie’s spell had been broken, but I trusted my wife enough to grab Nancy’s hips firmly. “Why are you calling that fat cow, ‘Mistress’?” I pushed back into her ass, and Nancy moaned, fighting to retain her senses against the pleasure my cock was giving her. She gasped, “Oh my god! You did this!” looking at my wife, who was sitting in front of her. “How— what—” She tried to get away from me, but the movement of my cock in her ass made her moan again. “Ohhhh FUCK! Whatdidyoudotome? Ohhh— shitthatfeelsgood!”

“At this point,” Debbie said, nonplussed, “you need my husband’s cock in your ass more than he needs you. You can let go of her, Ray.” I did and made a tentative move to pull out, but Nancy slammed back into me with enthusiasm, gasping in sexual heat. “And the more he fucks you in the ass, the more you want it, and the more you’ll be willing to do to get it. Your husband is my devoted slave. You can turn him on only when you smoke cigars—but he’ll only be ready to pop when you’re being fucked by somebody else,” she calmly resumed. “Deep inside you’re gonna hate it like you do now, but once Ray cums in your ass, you’re going to be hooked.” She smiled evilly. “But I’ve always been too nice, and I’ll let you have most of your perfect, rich, snobby life back. All you have to do is to stop now and climb off of Ray, and—figure out what you’re gonna do with Franklin. I’ve got separate issues with him.”

Nancy shouted, “You—BITCH!” even as she wiggled, trying to get me to start again.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t let it drop,” my wife retorted. “I had forgotten the torture you put me through in college. I didn’t even know Frank was your husband. But no, you had to continue your petty vendetta. Well, I’m gonna put an end to it.”

“Rich bitch obeys,” I said, interrupting Debbie’s victory—for an instant. “You must lick her pussy, rich bitch.”

Nancy’s response to the post-hypnotic trigger was instantaneous. “Ohh—god—NO!” she protested. Her eyes fixed on Debbie’s crotch. My wife began to lower her pants and panties, and Nancy tentatively strained forward, trying not to pull off of my stationary cock.

“Nice,” Debbie said, impressed. “Does she know what she’s doing?”

“Yes, you bitch! Now let me lick your fat cunt and get it over with!”

“That’s not very submissive,” Debbie noted, smiling at me. “Have you ever eaten pussy before?” Nancy shook her head vigorously. I gave her a couple of strokes, and she swore as the sensation disrupted her thoughts. I stopped again, and Nancy moaned in frustration. “Ask nicely, then,” Debbie evilly smiled.

“Ohhh... please... let me—let me—lick—your pussy. Please!” Nancy pleaded. I thrust slowly at her and she purred, quivering at the sensation. Once more, and she dripped onto the carpet. I stopped again, and Nancy immediately begged, “I’ll—lick your pussy real well, Debbie—if—if Ray doesn’t stop.”

A minute later, Nancy’s head was buried between my wife’s legs, clumsily lapping away as I pounded at her ass. Debbie was enjoying the humiliation of her college nemesis too much to gain any sexual pleasure from it, but I was at the point of no return. “Gon-gonna cum,” I panted.

“Nooooooo!” Nancy cried. “But her body betrayed her by thrusting at me in spite of her knowing what my ejaculation would do to her.

“Ray,” my wife smiled, and my eyes rolled up in my head.

I was awakened by the sounds of sex; more accurately, I was awakened by my cock’s response to the sounds of sex. It was a little tender, but the drug’s effect hadn’t yet faded. Debbie was thrusting at Nancy with a strap-on—I guessed that was the reason that the trip for ice cream had taken so long. I looked around the room, trying to get my erection to go away. Dickhead was on the couch, trying in vain to coax another erection from his own limp organ. It appeared that he was out of ammo, but judging by the look on his face, the sight of his wife getting fucked by Debbie was the most incredibly erotic thing in the world, and worth the futile, frantic masturbation.

“So, Dickhead,” Debbie huffed as she forced the dildo into Nancy’s ass, “what do you think? Do you like seeing me fuck your wife?”

“It’s—sick,” he panted, quickly and eagerly adding, “but I love watching you fuck her, Mistress. Can you make me cum?”

“Maybe later,” my wife magnanimously pronounced. “Keep trying or else I won’t even think about it.” He resumed stroking his cock while watching the two women.

I suddenly had an idea. “Rich bitch obeys. Cum now, rich bitch.” Nancy gasped, moaned, and vibrated, her face bright red. Debbie gasped, too. Her fantasy was finally coming true.

“I’d jump you instead of serve you breakfast in bed—but I know you’re—tender,” my wife apologetically said the following morning. “But damn... that was awesome last night.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’re too good to me.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. “So how did I do?”

“Other than the fact that I get hard when the heater kicks on,” I said, “I think you earned an ‘A’ in advanced mind control. Is Nancy really cognizant that she’s a slave to my cock?”

Debbie nodded. “Kind of a delicious irony there. She’s been using her body to manipulate men so she can get what she wants, and now her body is manipulating her to get what it wants. And she can’t do a thing about it.”

“And I assume Dickhead is similar?”

“He loves to watch his wife get banged by somebody else now. It turns him on, but he feels bad about it because it—makes him less than a man. You can’t be the top dog in the pack even if you have won the hottest woman when the only thing you can do is to give her away so you watch and masturbate in the corner. He won’t be able to fuck her; she does nothing for him—unless he’s watching her smoke a cigar, and as soon as she stops—his sexual desire vanishes. And he still gets denied by his goddess, the one woman he reacts normally to.”

“Yep, definitely an ‘A’,” I affirmed.

“I’d give myself a ‘B’,” she countered. I gave her a funny look. “I leave you alone for an hour, and you’ve got her orgasming and eating pussy on command. Not just any pussy, either, but my—’fat pussy’—as she put it. That was worth having her—ick!—touch me. All this power and I couldn’t figure out how to do that without directly using it.” I pointed out that I’d just taken advantage of what she’d already done to Nancy, and that I had no real power of my own. “Your brains and my power... we could probably rule the world—if we were inclined to do it,” she off-handedly said, indicating how unlikely she considered it. I told her that I’d settle for never having to fuck Nancy again, and she laughed softly. “I can do that—sorry about the Viagra. Still had a couple of them left.”

“So where do we go from here, Debbie?” I sincerely asked.

“Dunno,” she quickly replied. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I take this power so much for granted that I usually don’t even think to use it. Nancy and Dickhead were a special case, and I think I showed admirable restraint. They’re fucked-up, but not fucked—they’ll keep their little kink secret just like lots of other folks keep theirs. But you and I, we’re pretty much—pardon the expression— normal. We love each other very much. We’ve been through an awful lot together, bad enough to break us up, but we got back together again. We have disagreements—that the wife usually wins—” Debbie grinned. “—and we both think the other is too incredibly sexy. So where does that leave us?”

I thought about it for a few moments. “In love, in lust, and together,” I answered, shrugging. “Taking it one day at a time.”