The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The first thing Catherine Dahlgreen did when she walked in the door was kick off her shoes. Friday evening at last! The slim brunette wasn’t usually a clock-watcher, but today her boss had been more talkative than usual—was it necessary to tell the same story to everyone who walked into the store? If only they sold earplugs! But the perils of Gabby Greg were only a distant Monday threat. If it looked to be another uneventful weekend, well there was a mercy in peace and quiet.

Of course, most of her weekends were a little too peaceful these days. Almost all of Catherine’s friends were married and it seemed to be a rule that married people only hung out with other couples. Maybe she just needed to get out more and let herself go wild again. After all, twenty-six wasn’t too old for that.

Catherine dropped onto the couch and ran her fingers through shoulder-length black hair. She started to reach for the remote, then thought better of it. Her grey eyes closed as she leaned back and began rubbing her bare feet across the carpet. After another day of having her feet encased in unfeeling leather the stimulation was so refreshing.

Her stomach reminded her that lunch had been hours ago. She started to get up, then noticed the battered plush mouse in the center of the coffee table. It watched her with wide black eyes.

“How about it, Mousie?” she asked. “Ready for a wiiiiild weekend? Or are you getting too old for that?”

Mousie was starting to look worn, but then she’d had him since ... since—oh, for a long time. Catherine had gotten him ... sometime. She frowned. A present? Something twitched in her mind when she tried to remember. There was a vague impression of a cat, but she’d never had one. She was allergic to cats. It wasn’t important, though.

At six o’clock she was trying to decide what to have for dinner. Pizza delivery was winning out over leftover macaroni and cheese when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“The cat wants to get out.” It was a man’s voice, one she didn’t recognize. “Can you let her out?”

Everything felt suddenly distant, except for the phone in her hands and the stranger’s voice. “I can let her out,” Catherine heard herself say. The conscious part of her mind seemed to be falling away.

“Let the cat out,” said the voice. “Catherine is packing her bags for a vacation at six-thirty and the cat needs to get out.”

“Six-thirty”, Catherine repeated. She hung up, then went into the kitchen. Inside one cabinet were two large plastic dishes, items she didn’t usually notice. Each was red, with large letters on the side reading PUSSY KAT. She filled one with water and then placed both near the refrigerator.

Still in a trance, Catherine walked into her bedroom. On the top shelf of the closet was a plain red box. She placed this on the bed, then removed her blouse and slacks without ceremony. Her plain white bra unfastened easily to expose sweetly rounded breasts, the tips of which turned ever-so-slightly upwards. Last to go were a pair of white panties, which slid below a neatly-trimmed landing strip and over the curve of her thigh. They clung for a moment to one shapely knee, then plummeted to her feet.

From the box she removed a pair of white stockings, a garter belt with attached furry tail, a pair of fake cat ears and a red collar with a bell. Catherine’s clothes went into the box, which was then put back on the shelf. Part of the woman would stay with them, to sleep until her vacation was over.

Without thought, she sat on the bed and began to dress—garter belt first, then stockings. Something inside began to stir as her hands moved slowly, sensuously, up her legs. The black ears followed; a sudden urge sent both hands to her breasts. A little moan—almost a purr—escaped her lips as she filled her hands and squeezed. Her eyes seemed to brighten and she reached eagerly for the collar. By the time it was fastened around her neck, “Catherine” was no longer in the room.

Pussy Kat awoke on the bed and stretched. It had a been a delicious nap, but now it was time to do something else. She decided to investigate the house again. Some of the rooms might have changed—or perhaps she might find something new to play with!

After assuring herself that the everything in the bedroom was exactly as it should be, Pussy Kat marched proudly on all fours into the living room and surveyed her realm with a queenly eye. Something caught her eye and she froze.

Mouse! Her unsuspecting prey sat on the table, facing away from her. Pussy Kat crept forward slowly, taking care to prevent her bell from jingling. There was no noise to alert the defenseless rodent. When she was only a few feet away, Pussy Kat paused.

The mouse was still unaware of her presence. Pussy Kat went into a crouch; her elegant rear began to shake as she prepared to pounce. The sudden leap struck true, one graceful paw pinning the rodent. Her swift attack had left the mouse paralyzed with fright—for was she not a fearsome predator?

Scooping up her prey in both paws, Pussy Kat rolled onto her back and gave her new plaything a friendly nibble before pushing it away. She swatted at it again, but the mouse retreated with a funny rolling motion under the couch. Chasing it seemed too much trouble, so she curled up on the floor instead.

Some time later there was a noise at the door. She opened one eye, ready to look fierce if need be. Man came in.

“Hi, Pussy Kat!” He dropped an overnight bag near the door.

Man was tall and had dark hair. It was his job to look after Pussy Kat’s needs, but he had a distressing habit of not realizing what these were. She ignored the keys he was jingling in her direction but decided to give him a little attention.

“Mrrow!” That was enough. She placed her chin back on her paws and watched out of the corner of her eye as he picked up a pair of grocery bags sitting just outside the door. Those attracted her interest—there might be food or toys in them.

Man carried the bags into the kitchen and she followed. He began to remove things and put them away instead of giving them to her. Some of them looked like food. This called for a serious response.

“Mrrt!” Pussy Kat began rubbing against Man’s leg, purring as she did so. He chuckled and petted her head.

“You hungry, girl? Well, don’t worry—we’re having fillet of flounder for dinner.”

Fish? She rose up on her hind legs and rubbed her bare chest against him. Man couldn’t resist that—more fish for her! Just to be sure, she nuzzled his crotch.

“Someone’s, whoa! ... affectionate this evening. Does that mean you missed me?” Man scratched her behind the ears, grinning as she arched her back and pressed harder against him.

Pussy Kat felt Man push back harder against her, too. No—it was just part of him.

“Oh, boy—have I missed you,” said Man. He sighed. “But I need to start cooking if either of us wants to eat anytime soon. So—shoo, kitty!” He tapped her nose with one finger.

She blinked in surprise, then scurried with a jingle back into the living room. From long experience she knew that Man wouldn’t give her anything while he was cooking—not even one tiny piece of food. Still, it took every ounce of her willpower to stay away when she could both hear and smell her approaching dinner. Pussy Kat licked her lips and waited as patiently as she could.

When Man finally turned off the stove, Pussy Kat was lurking in the kitchen doorway. He grinned and held up two red bowls. She knew what that meant and immediately rushed over, almost tripping him as he put the dishes in their usual place. Her water had been replaced by milk; the other bowl held fish, which Man had torn into small pieces. She began to eat happily. The little bell on her collar jingled as it swung freely beneath her, in counterpoise to her twitching tail.

“For some reason I always love to watch you eat, Pussy Kat”, said Man.

Pussy Kat glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Man, but a cat couldn’t be too careful. And there was something suspicious about his hungry grin.

As usual, Pussy Kat finished eating before Man. She pranced over to his chair and looked up at him with her very best sad face. He raised an eyebrow. “Looks like someone is a hungry kitty—a hungry, needy kitty”.

She reached up and lightly pawed his leg. Grinning, Man held out a piece of fish and began to dangle it just over her head. “You’re going to have to work for this one, Pussy Kat,” he said with a laugh. “Can you do any tricks?”

Pussy Kat reached up for the fish, but Man pulled it away at the last second. He chuckled at her frown, then lowered the fish again. This time he was too slow—she gave a little bounce; both paws flashed upwards and dragged his hand to her mouth. He let go of the prize so she could eat it out of his palm.

“I was distracted by the jiggling,” Man informed her.

Pussy Kat raised her head to let him tickle her chin. Several more pieces of fish disappeared past her lips before Man declared that he wasn’t going be starved by an insatiable cat.

Having finished dinner, Pussy Kat licked her lips, then began to carefully clean her forepaws. The kitchen floor wasn’t too comfortable, so she wandered back into the living room.

Man followed several minutes later. He took a newspaper out of his overnight bag and settled in on the unclaimed portion of the couch. Pussy Kat frowned as he unfolded the paper with a smile and began to read. Didn’t he know she wanted attention? She got up on all fours and crawled into his lap, taking care to completely block his view.

Man’s face almost managed to look grave. “Yes?", he drawled.

Attention, now! She licked his face, then settled onto her stomach. “Mrrt!” she demanded.

“Ah-ha! So that’s what you want, eh?” Man dropped the paper and began to stroke her back. She shivered as his fingers swept rhythmically along her spine. With each pass, he carried his hand down over her buttocks and almost between her legs before pulling it away.

Pussy Kat purred and arched her back, then started as Man’s other hand teased her breasts. She rolled over to expose her belly.

“Oh, sticking your tongue out at me, are you?” When she gently pawed his cheek, he took that foreleg and caressed it. “I guess I’ll just have to stroke you more.”

One hand slid down to her flank and Pussy Kat took the opportunity to seize his other with both paws. Something hard pushed against her back, making her squirm in his lap. She began to lick his wrist and palm, giving a little kitty laugh at the yelp this produced. Man retaliated by capturing a breast, his hand engulfing it like a hot wave. A shudder ran through her excited body as his hand pushed gently against her, then began to move in slow circles.

A strange feeling began to awaken in Pussy Kat. It was wet, centered between her legs and seemed somehow familiar. With a growing sense of need, Pussy Kat took Man’s captive hand into her mouth and softly bit it.

He jerked slightly. “You can’t ... ah! ... beat opposable thumbs”. His free hand stopped moving for a moment, then pinched her erect nipple and gave it a little tug.

She responded by running her tongue across his fingers, but Man’s hand danced down her wiggling body to into the neatly trimmed hair over her sex. One finger stroked her outer lips, then slid inside and made a lazy orbit. Pussy Kat let out a sudden cry as a sensation of warmth washed over her.

Man pulled his hand free of her mouth. “Gotcha!” Smiling, he caressed her face.

The need was almost overpowering, and she finally recognized it—she was going into heat! Pussy Kat scrambled wildly to get up, almost knocking Man over in the process. He could help her—he had to help her!

Moving to the other end of the couch, Pussy Kat turned to present her quivering rear to him. She looked over her shoulder and gave a plaintive mew. Man, breathing heavily, stared at her with that silly look on his face.

“Wh-what is it, Pussy Kat?” He rose, but stood with a slight stoop. “Is there something behind the couch?”

She meowed again. Even Man couldn’t be that stupid! Pussy Kat turned in place and began pawing at Man’s crotch. She could feel his erection straining beneath the cloth and now she knew what it was for—it was for her! Leaning forward, she put her mouth over the fly and seized the zipper with her teeth.

“Holy Mother of God,” whispered Man. His hands fumbled with the belt. Between the two of them they managed to get his trousers off. Pussy Kat turned away, back arched, forepaws on the couch and hind legs spread wide on the floor. She meowed again and this time she knew Man understood.

He stepped behind her; one hand stroked between her legs while the other grasped her side. Pussy Kat purred as she felt him tickle the folds of her hungry sex. He entered her slowly, but she could tell that Man’s need matched her own. Impatiently she pushed against his rigid cock and gyrated her hips. His breath was audible as it rushed in over clenched teeth ...

... and rushed out again. Man pulled back and swiftly thrust forward. Their shared motion set her breasts bouncing. The bell on Pussy Kat’s collar jingled from the shock of it. TING! And again. TING! A little twist ... TING! Her skin felt so hot. TING! Gasping ...TING! She was going to ... TING! ... going to ...TINGLE!

Her yowl nearly deafened them both.

Some time later, after they had moved into the bedroom and she had been completely satisfied, they lay together on the bed. Pussy Kat rested her head on Man’s stomach as he slowly stroked her. Something touched her neck; looking down she saw his cock was rising once more. She squirmed over a bit and sniffed it. Typical—Man apparently didn’t know how to keep himself clean. She decided to show him how it was done—after all, that was what tongues were for.

Besides, the noises he started to make amused her.

The next morning, Pussy Kat raised her sleepy head to see where her pillow had gone. Man’s stomach was not where it should have been. Looking around, she saw him dressing by the bed.

“Urrrt?” she inquired.

“It’s time for me to go, Pussy Kat”. He sat next to her and began to put on his shoes. She pushed against him and closed her eyes, savoring his warmth and scent. He sighed. “One of these days I may decide to stay forever, but for now—Catherine needs to come back from her vacation.”

Pussy Kat opened her eyes and sat up. Man seemed to be at the end of a long tunnel. She wanted to walk towards him, put her head in his lap—but he was so far away.

“Catherine is coming back from her vacation, happy and refreshed. It’s time to let the cat back in, Catherine. The cat wants to get in so she can sleep.”

She could barely hear Man’s voice anymore, he was so distant. It made her sad, he was going away again. One heavy paw reached out for him, but fell short. Her head drifted down to meet the sheets.

Pussy Kat felt herself being petted. She uttered one soft meow, then drifted off into sleep.

Catherine woke up feeling warm and lazy. She could vaguely recall a dream—someone had been touching her in the most wonderful way. It made her purr just to think about it. What could have brought that on? Certainly not last night’s quiet dinner and TV.

She rolled over with a sigh and closed her eyes. If she went back to sleep another dream might come.