The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Please, please, please don’t suck too much.” Kimberly begged out loud to no one in particular as pulled into the parking lot, gravel crunching beneath her tires. A neon sign in the window flashed Miller but otherwise it was dimly lit and showed little signs of the bustling nightclub she expected. “oh….this is gonna suck.” She sighed.

It had been over two months since she moved to this blip of a town in the middle of nowhere, Georgia. She thought she would get out of the rat race for a while and take her stress level down a notch, but this town was just sad. People here were delightful. Work was pleasantly simple, especially compared to the fast paced office of her Atlanta law firm. Her days now were filled with mundane court filings and giving out freshman level advice to pleasant, friendly town folk.

Of course, the pay was considerably less than she had back home but she was OK with that. The problem was, there was nothing to spend your money on anyway. The town was asleep by 8pm, or watching the Wheel of Fortune at home, and after three weeks of looking she had only found three so-called bars within an hour of her home.

She didn’t expect a hopping night life here, and certainly not an active lesbian scene, but the first two places were little more than convenient rooms for old men to sit around and watch TV together while they drank lite beer. She could do that at home and watch better shows.

The third was a little better, more of a country western, open mic-nite, diner by day/pool hall by night kinda place and she would have liked it if not for the karaoke. Dear lord, she thought, I know we dropped the bomb on those poor people, but do we really deserve Karaoke???

She had heard about this place while hiding from the latest Karaoke superstar in the ladies room. While she was in a stall she overheard two young girls talking as they washed up. One was saying she was bored and hoped “the boys” would take them to the Pet Shop later, to which the other practically yipped in excitement at the idea. After raving about it more they decided to urge their men to leave now and take them to this apparently wonderful place of endless fun and excitement.

Walking up to the dark, tiny building at the end of a long dirt road Kimberly began to doubt she was at the right place. “There is no way those two girls were so excited about THIS place!” she said under her breathe. A hand-painted wooden sign over the door read “the Pet Shop” with a leash dangling from the bottom of the S. Kimberly winced and opened the door.

In the dim lighting she saw a single main room with a bar to one side. No TV, she noticed happily, as she caught the sound of classic country coming from the back room. She saw a lamp hanging from the ceiling back there and suspected there was a pool table behind the two men standing in the doorway. There were maybe a dozen couples sitting around the room in booths along the walls, and a few more sitting at the bar.

As soon as she walked in it seemed that the room stopped to look at her. She froze for a moment, then gave everyone her best disarming smile. The men all eyed her admiringly and if it weren’t for the presence of all their girlfriends she would have expected to spend the rest of the night fending them all off. For their part, most of the women simply smiled and went back to their business as she walked calmly to the bar. She slid onto an empty stool and looked down the bar.

“Good evening, young lady.” Said the old bartender. He reminded her of her father somewhat and seemed to be smiling at a joke she hadn’t gotten. “What can I get for you tonight?”

No more beer, she thought. “How about a vodka? Stoli, maybe?” she asked, hopefully. The old man winked and pulled a bottle up from behind the plywood and paneling bar. “Rocks?” he asked and dropped in two cubes as she nodded “yes”.

Kimberly sipped at her drink and listened to Merle Haggard. She felt the eyes of a few men still on her and tried to keep facing the bartender to avoid their stares. She was used to this, being a petite but curvy blonde in her mid thirties with a more than pretty face. It didn’t matter that she was a confirmed lesbian, men hit on her everywhere she went and letting them down was only harder now than ever before in that she had to be more careful about disclosing her orientation here.

“Don’t mind them.” He offered “We don’t get many new faces in here. This is mostly a private club.”

“Oh!” Kimberly exclaimed, putting drink down suddenly. “I didn’t realize. Should I go?” she apologized.

“No, no…it’s OK. You’re more than welcome, it’s just that we don’t advertise or anything. It’s more of a referral, word of mouth kind of business.” He said, and then leaned forward to be heard better over the music “but, we’re always happy to see new faces. We hope you’ll come often.” Then extending his hand, he said “I’m Tom, by the way. People here call me Old Tom”

“Thank you” she said sincerely, and thought that of all the bartenders she’d met since she arrived, Old Tom was the nicest. She could see having a drink with him now and then, and the music wasn’t bad if a little loud. Next time, though, she wouldn’t dress up. She had only worn a simple knee length black skirt and a business casual white blouse, but even so she felt over-dressed among the t-shirts and jeans. At least she’d left her hair in a simple pony tail and not done anything elaborate.

As she nursed her drink more she began to look around at the other patrons again. For the most part the men were average, some even a bit dirty, or on the homely or portly side. But what she began to notice was that virtually all of the women were gorgeous. Most were younger than their boyfriends, and some were positively playmate material. Kimberly had seen this before, but it was usually in a “gentlemen’s club” where the men were paying customers, or a particularly high-end restaurant where CEO’s bring their trophy wives to show off to one another. But these men were farmers and firemen, truck drivers and auto mechanics. Was the economy such that these men were at the top of the food chain here?

As she was pondering this a particularly beefy young man in a blue denim shirt (to match his jeans, of course) approached her from the pool room. He had been watching her for nearly a minute and obviously discussing her with his buddy. She assumed he finally got up his nerve and decided to ask her to dance and she prepared to tell him no as politely as she could. No need to tell him the real reason, namely her personal preference for women, since this historically hasn’t gone over well in this town. She’d have to let him down nicely.

“Hi” he said, offering her his hand “I’m Mike”

As she turned to face him Kimberly felt the room focus on her once more, only this time it was different. No one turned to look. It was more visceral, like the moment before the game winning basket when everyone holds their breath. Or the moment before a first kiss in a movie. Or the silence of the Serengeti, just before the Lion pounces on that poor Gazelle…

“I’m Kimberly” she said hesitantly taking his hand. She was glad at least that he began with a handshake and not a crude pass. And My! He certainly did have a firm grip! She had always preferred the sporty type of girl in college, and a firm grip was sexy to her no matter who it was attached to. “Kimberly,” he asked, continuing to hold her hand firmly “are you with somebody?”

“No.” she replied, then explained “I heard about this place and just thought I’d check it out.” Her eyebrows started to furrow as she wondered why he was still holding her hand.

“Great, great!” he said with a smile. Before she could react he pulled her right hand up and over his shoulder, ducking his head and shoulder up under her and rising into a solid fireman’s carry. Still holding her right hand firmly in his he wrapped his left arm across her bare legs, now hanging in front of his chest, and gripped her right wrist with his left hand. She started to kick and scream just as he pulled her tightly against his back with the one arm, leaving his right hand free.

“What the FUCK!!!” she screamed, her drink falling to the floor and bouncing unbroken on the cheap carpet. “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down!” She flailed her free left arm, punching at his backside and kicking vainly in the air. Try as she might she could not pull her right hand free of the vice-like grip he had on her, and the twisted, bent position kept her from raising herself enough to get any leverage.

She strained her neck to look around at the other patrons, expecting someone to help her. Instead she saw the men watching it all like a boxing match. Some munched popcorn from little bowls and smiled as she begged for help. The women seemed to stare right through her, glassy eyed and distant as if lost in some lustful memory. Kimberly thought a few seemed to squirm in their seats as they watched her struggle.

Her long hair flew from side to side, flying across her face and brushing across the floor as she struggled ferociously.

“Listen, this may be fun for you but I’m a lawyer and I am NOT ENJOYING THIS! Put me down NOW or I swear to GOD I’ll SUE your ass for…” Kimberly stopped screaming her threats when she felt his rough, muscular right hand slide up and under her skirt. “WHOA!!!!!” she yelled, lifting her head as high as she could “What the HELL are you..!!???”

She stopped suddenly as she felt three sudden smacks hit sharply right on her clit. Through the sheer fabric of her cotton panties the smacks reverberated across her pussy and sent shockwaves across her whole body. It was a jarring, jolting shock that made her catch her breath and open her eyes wide in terror.

After a moment her head cleared and her thoughts came back to her. She barely had a moment to be afraid when a second series of three slaps hit her again and the waves of pain from her clit made her grunt as she fell against Michael’s back.

“BAD GIRL!!!!” he scolded her in a deep, angry voice. In her shocked state Kimberly felt more afraid of this man than she had ever been afraid of anything in her life! She cowered at the sound of his voice and felt she would do anything to avoid his wrath! Three more slaps shook her to her core and she heard his words again, loud and frightening in her ears “BAD GIRL!!!”

When her head cleared again she heard his voice again, calmer now but still firm and commanding. “Do you want to be a BAD GIRL???” he demanded.

“NO!!!” She responded without thinking. “No, please!! Don’t do that anymore! Please!” She lifted her head again to look around at the spectators and saw the men now avidly watching her. Several women were now openly lost in their own world of masturbation as they watched her being assaulted by this redneck rapist.

“So, you’ll be a Good Girl?” he asked.

Kimberly hesitated, craning her neck to look at Old Tom behind the bar. He smiled at her knowingly as he washed her glass and put it back behind the bar with the others. As she considered telling him to go to hell she felt three more sharp smacks on her pussy and her thoughts were wiped out, replaced with brightness and pain. “YES!” she cried “I’ll be a good girl!!! I’ll be a good girl!!!”

Michael flattened his hand and pressed it firmly into the soft fabric of Kimberly’s panties. She gasped suddenly at the feel, expecting more pain, but was instead surprised by a firm, oddly rhythmic rubbing up and down the length of her lips. She bit her lip, trying not to react in disgust at this man’s touch. Then, to her surprise, she felt her hips churning on their own.

“Please…I…I don’t want you to…” she started to plead with him again, this time in a quieter tone. She trailed off as a surge of pleasure began to build in her pussy. She could feel it building, like a wave resonating inside her womb and getting stronger with each passing pulse. She was resonating. Resonating to the rhythm of his hand, and while she felt nothing but disgust for this meaty lowlife of a man she couldn’t do anything to stop the killer orgasm that he was creating inside her.

“You…..you…..” she tried to object as his strong, thick fingers massaged up and then down, up and then down her soft, soaking wet underpants. He played her pussy like a fine instrument, stroking notes from her labia and plucking at her clit in time with her body’s natural harmonics. He had been practicing for years, and all of the men here at the club had been his teachers, and many of the women had helped him study, but tonight was his first solo performance.

He quickens his pace slightly, syncopating his rhythm slightly and she lifts her head again. This time, however, her eyes are closed and her mouth is frozen in a smile. She grunts loudly and shudders violently as the greatest orgasm of her life washes across Kimberly’s body. She twitches uncontrollably and falls limp again, her left arm no longer fighting hangs dangling to the ground. Her long blonde pony tail sweeps the floor behind him as Michael turns for the pool room out back.

The men congratulated Michael with muted cheers and modest clapping, a few passing him blatant thumbs up signs. “Come on, Pet…let’s get you housebroken” he says to her lovingly as he continues to stroke her now swollen mound through the wet fabric, drawing slow circles around her clit. Kimberly moans quietly to herself and smiles, her head and world both happily turned upside down.

“Well done, Mikey!” cheers his older brother Nick as Michael enters the back room. Walking over to the pool table he leans forward and lets Kimberly’s limp form roll onto the green felt. “Boy, she was a real wildcat, eh?”

“Yeah!” added Dan from the across the room. “I thought she was gonna kick your teeth out, Mikey!”

“It wasn’t the kicking that scared me, it was the suing.” laughed Trent, not bothering to get off his seat since it would mean making Brandy get off his lap. She was happily nuzzling his neck at the moment having been thoroughly turned on by Kimberly.

“Yeah, well, she’s welcome to sue me tomorrow…” Michael countered as he lifted Kimberly’s skirt above her waist to expose her now soaked panties. “…that is if she still wants to.” She continued to struggle as he pulled them down her legs and off over her shoes, but she was weak and disoriented and the best she could manage was to push vainly against his muscular arms as he worked to undress her and softly beg him to stop.

“Now, don’t be afraid to show her who’s boss” suggested Nick, as if reminding his younger brother to change the oil regularly and not lean on the clutch too much.

“Thanks, Bro.” Michael assured him “I think I’ve got this. I’ve been practicing lots lately with Brandy and Michelle.” He looked across the room at his best friends’ girls. Without a trace of guilt or jealousy they both smiled back at him with loving warmth.

“Yeah. Mikey’s got a good, firm hand on him.” Confirmed Michelle as she held Dan closely by the waist. “Not as good as you, of course, Master, but he certainly knows how to handle a girl.” She said sincerely and squeezed her boyfriend.

“I’m sure he does,” asserted Nick, looking sternly at his friend’s redheaded pet “but a full grown, free range woman is very different from a domesticated thing like yourself, sweetheart. He needs to keep his wits about him. A boy’s first hunt can be dangerous.”

Kimberly’s fuzzy mind was starting to piece together fragments of the conversation and had no idea what these people were talking about. She couldn’t understand why no one was upset about her being raped right here in the middle of the bar! And why was she so weak? She couldn’t even stop this guy from taking off her panties!

She turned her head to the left and saw a man in his mid-thirties sitting in an old lazy boy recliner. He was balding and needed a shave badly, but on his lap a twenty something brunette couldn’t stop nibbling at his earlobes. When her gorgeous, shoulder length hair fell to one side Kimberly could see that she was strikingly beautiful, and obviously lost in her own lust. She turned her head again to look at Michael and asked him what was happening?

All that came out of her mouth was “What are yooo….yyyooo?” she barely formed the words as his amazingly skilled right hand rested once more on her now exposed mound and began methodically stroking her soft, wet folds. Up and down, up and down, his fingers sliding smoothly along the outside of her lips, applying just the right amount of pressure here and there, here and there…up and down…up and down…in that same strange, driving rhythm as before. She tried to move out from under his hand but found her hips and legs simply did not respond.

“Shhhhh…” he whispered to her softly, leaning in close to her ear. “Be a good girl now…”

She tried to think clearly, to figure out what was happening but every thought got wiped away and replaced almost as it formed with the next stroke. Each touch sent a pulse through her pussy and across her body, resonating in time across her entire nervous system like a violin in the hands of a virtuoso. She was awash in the sound of her own orgasm as it built slowly, steadily towards a harmonic climax.

“Be a good girl, Kimberly” she heard him whisper and the thought echoed in her mind in time with the music of her soul. Pleasure drowned out all noise and washed the words deeply into her memory. “Be a good girl….be a good girl….be a good girl…..”

“Damn, he IS good.” Trent complimented Michael from his armchair. The others nodded in agreement except for Nick, who was waiting for more proof. Michael smoothly leaned down as he continued to massage Kimberly’s pussy and gently lifted her right arm back onto the pool table. It had fallen limply over the edge soon after he started the Truth stroke.

That was his specialty; the Truth stroke. Or so Michelle had told him once with a dreamy smile plastered on her face. He knew all the techniques, of course. You had to before the elders would let you get your own Pet.

There was the Hand Hold, where it’s all about having a quick, firm grip for kneading and then establishing a solid rhythm right away. And there’s the Fast Finger Freeze, which he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of. He could never quite maintain the speed needed in his fingers for more than a few seconds before he’d cramp up. But, for that brief period of time he is proud to be able to hold any girl frozen and speechless with ecstatic, rapturous joy. A very useful skill to have!

Then there’s the Smack Down, which he hated doing to any girl, even if she deserved it. Nick was a big fan of that and used it more than most people thought necessary. But Michael much preferred giving pleasure to plain, and of course thanks to the club techniques he knew a half a dozen ways to give a woman more pleasure than God or evolution ever intended her frail little brain to process at one time.

Michael knew that it was how and when a Master applied that pleasure that made all the difference in training his Pet.

No one in the club really remembers who first discovered the first techniques, but over generations lots of men have refined them and added to them. They’d been passed down for generations, from father to son only, as a sort of Owners Manual for Women. They’re not tricks and they work every time, and on pretty much every woman. It’s biology, they say.

Frankly, most of the guys don’t care, as long as they can keep their Pets happy and their Pets keep loving them right back. Each member promises to guard the knowledge from the outside world and not do anything to risk exposure for fear of losing the way of life it brings them.

And now, here Michael stood leaning over his first wild catch, admiring her beautiful long blonde hair as it flowed across the green felt of the pool table. Her face was graceful and sophisticated, like a model or a movie star, he thought. “Wow!” he said aloud as he watched her silently mouth the words “be a good girl” over and over again to herself. Her eyes were shut tightly as she rolled her head from side to side. “I really bagged a beauty, eh, bro?”

Kimberly continued to writhe under his masterful hand, chanting to herself silently as they discussed her openly across the table like a recently slain deer.

“You bet, Mikey.” Nick conceded. “Just you take care of her, now. You be a good Master or I’ll have to come and take her off your hands.” The two brothers shared a playful grin and laughed.

“No chance, bro.” Michael said confidently, turning his attention back to her squirming body. “I’m gonna treat this one right so she’ll never want to leave.” He leaned in closely again and whispered breathily into her right ear.

“Kimberly, listen carefully. Everything I tell you is the Truth.” He continued the steady up and down motion of his hand and applied slightly more force to her nether lips with his fingers. She drew a breath and shuddered, her eyes rolled back and her mouth opened wide. In the empty hollow that was her mind the words “Everything I tell you is the Truth” echoed back and forth, back and forth, mixing with the noise of the frothing, churning waves of pleasure that ripped across her body.

This was his specialty. The Truth.