The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was a hot summer day in Chrystal Heights and business was brisk.

I watched the woman swirl her tongue around the creamy goodness. She closed her eyes in pure pleasure, then opened them again.

I smiled and said, “I know what you need.”

She looked up. “Oh?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Sprinkles.”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh!” she said. “Good idea, Lynn!”

“Jen and Barry’s ice cream always tastes better this way,” I said, spreading multi-colored sprinkles across the top of her ice cream. “That’ll be twenty-five cents.”

She blinked. “You’re charging me for the sprinkles?”

“Yes,” I said. “This ice cream truck isn’t going to pay for itself and gasoline isn’t free.”

“I understand that, Lynn,” said the girl. “It’s just...well, I’m a regular customer, you know?”

I nodded. “Yes, I know,” I said, “but I’m a businesswoman and that’s how I do business. No freebies, no favors, no friendly discounts.” I pointed to the dry erase menu board listing my products, along with the prices. “That’s my box,” I said. “I don’t go outside the box.”

She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have a leg to stand on. Also, she didn’t want to anger the ice cream truck owner during the hottest part of the summer. She finally shrugged and slapped a quarter down. She turned without another word and walked away.

Hot summer days are my friends. My money-making friends.

“Next!” I said.

A boy stepped up to the window. He was about ten years old.

“Hi,” he said. Then he took a deep breath and pointed at my dry erase menu board. “Could I have an ice cream drumstick?”

I smiled at him. “Sure.”

He beamed, proud of his accomplishment. This was obviously his first attempt at ordering something on his own.

I reached into the freezer and pulled out a drumstick, then set it in front of him. “That’s two dollars,” I said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. He set them on the counter and smiled.

I quickly totaled them. “That’s only one seventy five,” I said. “You need another quarter.”

The boy blinked back tears. “But that’s all I have,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “The frozen drumsticks cost two dollars, and you only have a dollar seventy five here. You don’t have enough.”

The man in line behind the boy stepped forward and lay a quarter on the counter.

“Here,” he said. “That should cover it.”

“Yes, it does,” I said, scooping the coins off the counter.

The boy beamed at the man. “Thanks, mister!”

The man watched the boy walk away. Then he turned back to me.

“Just a quarter?” he said.

“I’m not doing him any favors giving him a break,” I said. “He needs to learn life isn’t always fair.”

“He has to learn that from the ice cream truck girl?” he said, sounding amused.

“Hey,” I said, “this is a business, just like any other. And business is business, whether you run an ice cream truck or a corporation.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “Still, if profits are the bottom line, why are you spending all your time here at Windchaser Park instead of going where the money is?”

I looked at the man. “What do you mean?”

“I having reconstruction work done on my bar,” he said, “and that’s hot, dusty work. The workers would love an ice cream break. Why don’t you start showing up there around 2pm?”

“Not around 2pm,” I said, checking my route times and writing it into the log. ”At 2pm. This is a business...a punctual business.”

The man nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “By the way, my name is Elliot.”

“Thank you for the tip, Elliot,” I said, “but please understand that this doesn’t make us friends and I’m not giving any friendly discounts.”

“Of course not,” said Elliot. “By the way, since my establishment serves alcohol, while you are parked there, you will need to post a sign on your truck stating, ‘No one under the age of 18 permitted to patronize this business at this time.’”

“I’ll do it,” I said, “but isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“That,” said Elliot, eyes locking with mine, “is how we do business.”

At 1:59 the next day, I parked at the address Elliot had given me. Sure enough, a line of hard-hatted workers exited the bar and lined up in front of my service window.

I smiled. “Hello,” I said. “I’m Lynn. What can I get for you?”

The first man in line looked over my menu board. Then he looked at me and said, “I’ll take a hand job.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“A hand job,” he said, pointing. “You have them listed on your menu board for $15.”

I stared at the my dry erase menu board, incredulous. The man was right. The last item on the list read, ‘Hand job...$15’. What the hell?

The man looked at me. “Well?”

I fumed. I wasn’t happy about it, but business was business. If I had listed hand jobs for fifteen dollars, then it was a legitimate order.

“Fine,” I said, through clenched teeth. “Walk around to the back door of the truck.”

I stomped to the back door and flung it open, almost hitting the customer in the process. The heat rolled in.

“Unzip your pants,” I said. “I have customers waiting.”

The man unzipped his pants and I reached in and pulled out an unexpectedly thick cock. I licked the palm of my hand and wrapped my fingers around his shaft.

He hardened quickly under my manual ministrations and soon he was grunting as my tightly wrapped fingers stroked his shaft. His balls appeared to swell and he groaned, then suddenly exploded.

I hadn’t expected the sudden ejaculation and his cock happened to be aimed directly at me at the moment of his explosion. Semen sprayed the front of my blouse.

I was pissed, but kept quiet. Berating customers was bad for business, and it was my own fault anyway.

The man handed me a twenty. “Thanks, Lynn,” he said.

I tucked the bill in my pocket, then went back to the service window.

“Next!” I said.

“Hello,” said the man. “I’d like a hand job, please.”

I sighed. It was going to be a long day.

I watched the last guy file back into the building. Then I sat down and massaged my aching forearm.

When the hell had I added hand jobs to the menu board? I didn’t remember doing that. Still, business had been brisk and I hadn’t used much stock, or any stock, for that matter. I had set out a tip jar and that now had several bills tucked inside.

“Busy day?” said Elliot’s voice.

I looked at the service window. “Yes,” I said. “Very busy.”

“Well,” he said, “it looks like this is a good arrangement. I’ll have to send the men on break in shifts tomorrow.”

Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Still, the addition to my route seemed to be working.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be back tomorrow at two.”

“That’s good,” said Elliot, staring into my eyes. “We’re looking forward to it.”

I parked in front of Elliot’s bar at 2pm the following day. Only a few workers filed out to meet me this time, but Elliot had mentioned yesterday he was going to give breaks in shifts today.

I killed the music and opened the service window. “Good afternoon,” I said. “What can I get you?”

The man looked over my dry erase menu board. “Hmmm,” he said. “I’d like a blowjob, please.”

“What?” I said.

“A blowjob,” he said, pointing. “You have them listed there for $25, right under hand jobs.”

I felt a jolt of deja vu. I had erased hand jobs from the menu when I left the site yesterday. When the hell did I put it back on? And when did I add blowjobs?

“Well?” said the man.

I fumed, but there was nothing I could do. It was on the menu board, and the menu board was law.

“Go to the back of the truck,” I said, teeth clenched.

I opened the back door and let him in, then closed the door.

“Unzip your pants,” I said. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m running a business here.”

The man unzipped his pants. I reached in and pulled out his cock. I was pissed, but this was business. I took a deep breath and wrapped my lips around his heavy shaft.

He hardened quickly and suddenly my mouth was full of cock. I slid my mouth back-and-forth along his shaft, my chin repeatedly pressing against his heavy balls. I wasn’t very good, as I had almost no experience, but a short time later he grunted and hot sperm suddenly flooded my mouth.

My eyes widened, as I hadn’t been expecting the sudden explosion of cum. I hadn’t intended on swallowing, but it was too late...my mouth was full. I had to swallow or drown.

He was still cumming, so I swallowed as fast as I could. My belly filled as he pumped my mouth. He finally exhaled his completion and waited patiently for me to drain his cock.

I sat back on my heels as he exited the back door. I caught my breath, then made my way back to the service window.

“Thank you for waiting,” I said. “Can I help-”

The rest of my sentence was cut off as I gave a loud, unexpected belch. I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late.

“Oh!” I said, eyes wide. “I’m sorry...that was very unprofessional of me!”

The men in the line applauded.

The guy waiting to give his order shrugged. “Not a problem,” he said. “It’s a testament to how good you performed your service. In fact, I’m convinced. I’ll take a blowjob as well.”

Cheeks burning, I nodded and pointed him to the back door.

An hour later I sat back, trying to catch my breath. After ten straight blowjobs, I needed to give my belly a chance to settle.

Five minutes later, I stood, feeling a bit more steady. I took down the dry erase menu board and carefully wiped hand jobs and blowjobs from the list. I put the board back in place.

“I see you’re doing a brisk business,” said Elliot’s voice.

I turned, then nodded. “Yes,” I said. “Not bad at all. But don’t expect a discount just because I’m making money.”

“Of course not,” he said, looking at my tip jar stuffed with bills. “Perish the thought. We’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Of course you will,” I said. “You’re on my schedule.”

“That’s excellent,” said Elliot, his eyes locked with mine. “It’s so nice to be able to depend on a service.”

At 2pm the next day, I checked my stock, set up my dry erase menu board and opened the service window. Right on schedule, some hard-hatted construction workers exited the bar and approached my truck.

“Can I help you?” I said, smiling.

“Yes, I think so,” said the man. “Your newest selection...intercourse for fifty dollars...what flavors do you offer?”

My heart pounded. “I beg your pardon?”

He pointed to my dry erase menu board. “You have intercourse listed, but no specifics other than price.”

My mouth was dry. When the hell did I add intercourse?!?

The man was waiting for an answer. I thought fast.

“Ummmm,” I said. “There’s...missionary, doggy and straddling.”

The customer nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take doggy.”

“Right...” I said. “Ummmm...go to the back door...”

My mind spun. This was crazy! But business was business. If I had intercourse listed on the menu board, I had to follow through.

Still, I wasn’t happy about it. In fact, I was downright surly as I stripped off my clothes and dropped to all fours. I didn’t even give him a professional smile as he grabbed my hips and slid his cock into me.

I did gasp, however. His cock was unusually thick and downright breathtaking. In fact, I had to part my thighs further to give him room. It apparently worked, because he began pounding me with abandon.

His pelvis slapped my ass for only a minute or two before he stiffened and moaned. He grabbed my bare hips and jammed his cock deep inside me, then shuddered as he emptied his balls.

When he was finally drained, he stood and arranged his clothing. “Thank you,” he said. “You may consider me a satisfied customer.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, still surly. “Tell your friends.”

He left and I got to my feet. I reached down to pick up my clothing.

“Don’t bother,” said the next customer, peering through the service window. “I’d like some intercourse as well, please.”

An hour later, I got to my feet and struggled into my clothes. I was aching and sore from being pounded silly by an entire construction crew.

Then I heard a tapping on the back door. “Lynn?” said Elliot’s voice.

I rolled my eyes, but opened the door. “What?” I said. Yes, it was a bit unprofessional, but I was tired and sore.

“I love how you’ve been expanding the menu,” he said. “The boys can’t wait to see what flavor you’re offering tomorrow.”

“Did you need something, Elliot?” I said. “I’m a bit busy.”

“I won’t keep you long,” he said. “I know you’re on a schedule.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m definitely on a schedule.”

“I just wanted to say that you’re the most profession person I’ve ever met in a service industry,” he said, “and I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“You’re a great businesswoman,” he said, “but you’re only one girl...err, worker. You really need to get some help. Also, with this heat wave, you really should consider expanding your business.”

I sighed and nodded. “I know,” I said, “but I don’t have the money yet to hire help or get a new truck.”

“I know,” said Elliot, “but I do. I’ll provide whatever seed money you require. Instead of it being a loan, however, I’ll just ask for a percentage of the profits. I’ll just be a silent partner and you can run the business any way you see fit.”

His eyes locked with mine, and I realized he was serious. The more I thought about it, the more I realized this was quite a potential opportunity.

“You’d be a silent partner?” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “My only requirement would be that you let me interview the girls...err, candidates you bring in as potential employees for the other trucks.”

I thought about it. I’d be running a whole fleet of trucks. This heat wave had everybody dying for service from ice cream trucks, and I’d be able to provide.

“You’ve got a deal,” I said, shaking his hand.

I smiled to myself. They could call me a hardass all they wanted, but my business acumen had just landed me a sweet deal.

Hot summer days are my friends.

“So, to celebrate our partnership,” said Elliot, “can I get a freebie?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling beatifically. “This one time, you get a freebie.”

“Wonderful!” he said, scanning the dry erase menu board. “Let me try your newest flavor of intercourse...anal.”