The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Somewhere in Los Angeles last night.

The door opened to the suite and Jack lowered the 9mm automatic when he saw she was alone. Pushing his blonde hair off his forehead, he growled, “Where the fuck have you been?”

The chocolate-skinned woman in red silk closed the door and nodded smiling; “I missed you, too. I ran into a girl with a very healthy dash of the Old Blood and a great dollop of nerve. She tried to leash me. We went and had some fun.”

Jack rubbed his face with both hands then cursed, “Damn sodding bitch! Tapestry, you had me thinking you had gotten yourself some deep trouble or dragged off by a hit man until I yakked the doorman up. He told me you hopped a cab with a young blonde.” He narrowed his eyes, “So why the hell did you lark off with an unknown half-blood? Did she have a handle on the power? What game are you up to now?”

She pulled the dress off over her head and tossed it aside. “Something different. Might be a useful acquaintance sometime soon. She was fresh. Hot. Young. Remember the name, Nicki Barclay. If she’s got the guts I think she has, she’d be a good gal to have on our side. I gave her a puzzle to solve, wondering if I might teach her some things. I think she’ll try to find me.” She moved in slow sultry style to stand in front of Jack. She put her hands on her hips.

He stared. “You shaved yer cunny?” He felt his cock jump with electric passion.

“She was a bad girl, Jack.” Tapestry lowered her voice to a whisper, “She made me do it. Do you still love me?”

Jack blew his breath out noisily. “Yeah, she ‘made’ you do it.” He began to pull off his shirt and laughed, “Maybe I love still ya. Turn around and bend over you conniving bitch and we’ll see.”

She giggled, swung around and thrust her backside at him.

Nicole Barclay crossed the street with the walk light. Windows on the hotel reflected a slash of morning sunlight across her amber-rose sunglasses. Her blonde hair was incandescent gold. She walked under the covered drop-off and past the cabs unloading there. She nodded her thanks to the doorman as he swung the lobby door open for her. He smiled back at the young lady in the expensively tailored suit and touched the brim of his cap.

She stopped just inside the lobby and checked the compass points of the room for her quarry. She was hunting Angela Montgomery. She was getting damn close.

Nicki had thought a great deal about just two things for the last three days. First, ending Angela Montgomery’s partial control of her was the number one priority. Nicki was struggling even now with a bizarre mental compulsion that was a “gift” from Angela. Nicki had used her own powers on many people in the last ten years, and what she was experiencing now was a taste of what she had dished out.

Nicki was just eleven and deep into puberty when she discovered her weird ability to push her will onto others. Her strange eyes that could capture someone’s mind and change it had made her high school years very interesting. She became a dominant girl with her pick of friends. Then the same refined talent had allowed her to go to college despite her grades and her family’s lack of money. Once out of college, her ability had meant she could start a career as a private consultant for recovering stolen property. She worked when she chose to work.

She was doing well for herself. Damned well. She had a reputation on the street of someone you wanted to treat very carefully. No one messed with Nicki Barclay. The ‘connected’ people called her ‘Sticky Nicki’. Street word said it was because she was stubborn and impossible to shake once she set her sights on something. Some gang folks thought the name had to do with how often Nicki made sure stolen property came ‘unstuck’ from fences and hoods to find its way back to the original owner.

Deals with Nicki usually ‘stuck’, too.

People that got in Nicki’s way had their own reasons for remembering ‘Sticky Nicki’. But they couldn’t tell anyone after Nicki was through with them. Nicki tried to ignore the damned nickname. She just cared about the benefits of her extraordinary talent and well-controlled life.

Until three days ago. That’s when she had pushed a young girl named Angela into lesbian sex and woke up cursed, her mind bent like a funhouse mirror.

Nicki’s mind wandered just a bit to her shaved pussy and her thighs quivered with lust in reaction. Her fingers twitched as she ached to rub herself publicly. Her smile thinned and she ground her teeth together hard to push the heat into the back of her mind. Angela had done this to her. Angela had some sort of ability like Nicki’s.

Angela was going to be mind fucked and turned into Nicki’s bitch. Today. Now.

But the second thing that Nicki had been thinking about for three days was scary. How much control would she have of the situation? What if Nicki’s ability didn’t work as well on Angela? Nicki hated guns. She didn’t know martial arts or psychology. She was where she was today by being special and having a talent that got stronger every year.

A talent that allowed her control in all situations.

Right now, she needed all of her control just to keep her hands off of her own burning hot slit. The lust got stronger as she put it off. She was compelled to shave her pussy every other day and anytime she looked at her smooth vulva, she fell into another masturbation session. Her own imagination was allied with her sex drive and her gorgeously hot shaved slit to make her every step an invitation to fuck herself silly with her fingers.

No. She knew she was stronger than anyone might guess. She had masturbated this morning in the shower. She would be fine.

Nicki walked over to the registration desk and smiled at the young woman there. “Morning.”

A smile flashed back, “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I’m a courier with a message for Ms. Angela Montgomery. Just some legal papers she needs to sign. Can you tell her I’m here?”

The girl’s head went down as she consulted her terminal. “Certainly. Your name?”

“Ms. Bingham.” Nicki pulled off her sunglasses. The fire was already spinning inside her head. The lusty saturation of her loins had kept the fire spinning for three days. She ached to use her power on someone. She hoped the girl would give her any excuse to meet her gaze and be pushed.

The girl nodded. She picked up the phone and dialed a number too quickly for Nicki to see. It looked like she had started with a one then a five. That meant fifteenth floor. The info that had been passed to Nicki was good. Angela was staying here.

They both waited.

The girl put the phone back down. “I’ll leave a message, but it seems Ms. Montgomery is not in right now.”

Nicki caught her eyes and pushed, ”Room number?“

The brunette’s eyes stuck fast and wavered, “1535.”

Nicki so wanted to have sex. Right now. Right here. The horniness was nearly intolerable. She swallowed. “Please do leave a message, thanks. I’ll try again in an hour.” She turned briskly and walked across the lobby to the gift shop. Walking helped a bit. Nicki thought about her scissoring legs and was able to almost ignore her wet slit.

At the gift shop, she bought aspirin for her mounting headache and a package of hairpins. She scanned the lobby again, and then made a straight line for the elevators. Next stop, fifteenth floor.

The man in the dark gray suit stopped in front of the registration desk.

“Yes, sir?” A young man asked from behind the counter.

The harsh faced man offered him a long look at a plastic encased ID, “Gallant. FBI. I have information that one of your guests may be involved in criminal activities. I’ll need some information and your complete cooperation. I don’t even want your supervisor to know about this until we can confirm how serious the matter is. Do you understand?” The agent’s gray eyes were startlingly pale.

The desk clerk closed his mouth and swallowed. “S-sure. I understand.”

“Andrea Mason. She may be registered as Allison Mercury or Andrea Montgomery or some combination. What room is she in?”

The young man quickly tapped out several queries on his station. “There is no one of those names registered, sir. I do have four guests named Montgomery. One is Angela in 1535.”

Gallant nodded, “Good work. I’m going to go check out Ms. Montgomery. I’ll need a master key.” He slid a warrant out of his jacket and showed it to the young man.

The clerk hastened to provide the key. A few simple keystrokes and it was done.

Gallant took the key and paused, “If I don’t speak to you again in an hour, call 911 and report an officer needs assistance to the local police. You think you can do that, son?”

“Yes, sir!” He turned to look at the clock. “I’ll watch and call at ten past eleven.” He swung back around.

The gray suited man nodded. “Just a precaution, son. Don’t get all nervous on me, OK? You say nothing until you hear from me. I wasn’t here at all.”

A quick nod was the response.

Gallant nodded and walked to the elevator bank. He slid a hand inside his jacket and pulled the safety snap on his shoulder holster as the elevator doors closed. The silencer was already attached and the 9mm automatic was loaded with armor-piercing cartridges.

Ancients had an inhumanly dense bone structure, but Gallant knew a lot about Ancients and how to kill them.

Gallant was sure that he would be able to call the desk clerk in a few minutes and cancel the phony request for assistance. The doorman had said that Montgomery had left this morning in a cab. All Gallant needed was access to the room, so that Montgomery was a target as soon as she walked in.

Next stop, fifteenth floor.

Nicki had planned to pick the lock. Instead, she captured the eyes of a maid on the floor and was let in to 1535 after a minor push.

No one was inside. Which suited her just fine. She made a quick tour of the suite. Very nice. First class. She checked the master bedroom closet and found the red silk dress that Angela had worn to the Tangiers Club. Nicki’s thoughts began to heat, remembering the incredible sex and orgasms of the night with Angela in her bed. She groaned softly and crushed the red silk to her face and took a deep breath.

Her pussy soaked down her thighs.

Someone opened and closed the suite door. Nicki froze. There was too little sound after the door closed. Something told her it wasn’t the maid. Nicki tiptoed around the corner and peered as a gray-suited man searched the small kitchenette and then checked the far bedroom.

The man had a gun in his hand.

Her mind whirled between arousal and danger. She needed a quick plan. Nicki hated guns, they scared the crap out of her. A dark gun fixed with a long tube extension on the front. Silencer. Hit man. Damn, fucking, piss!! The danger coiled together with the fire between her legs and she felt closer to cumming.

That was so wrong. She was terrified. She shouldn’t be aroused.

She needed to be very close to use her eyes, usually within arm’s length. Think! As soon as he saw her, she was dead. The only way he might let her live was if he was in complete control of the situation.

She turned around and snuck quickly into the bedroom and slipped inside the bathroom closing the door. She reached in and turned the shower on, quickly adjusting the temperature. She got out of her clothes as fast as she knew how and threw them all in the small linen closet and shut the door. Then she stepped into the shower and started singing softly.

This was a good idea. He would hear her first. She would seem completely clueless. She was frightened, but this idea gave her a shot at nailing this bastard. The situation was not in her control and she was about to take a risky gamble. She mentally cursed Angela Montgomery to the lowest, foulest pits of hell. She soaped her breasts and then her hand pushed the soap down between her legs. Her groan was titillating. Hearing herself moaning, she orgasmed. Immediately, she wanted another one.

The bathroom door was pulled open with a snapping motion. The man moved in and leveled the long barreled nightmare at her through the shower glass. She let out a tiny shriek that wasn’t faked and dropped the soap.

The intruder smiled. It wasn’t a very nice smile. “Out.”

She pushed the door open and stepped out of the shower dripping on the floor. Soap slid over her water-slicked skin and she stared at the gun pointed at her head. She kept her hands raised. She tried to concentrate on grabbing his eyes. That was the plan. Throw him off by appearing vulnerable. Nail him with her eyes.

But she couldn’t take her eyes off of the dark hole of the pistol barrel pointed at her forehead. Heat shivered in her slit. She tried to turn her head and focus on his face. Nail him! Nothing. Damn, fucking, piss!! She couldn’t shake off the looming threat of the gun. She couldn’t look away from the little black eye of death peering at her. She shivered.

“When is Angela due back?”

“After lunch, Master.” She felt a sizzling spiral of heat run up her spine. Piss!!! What am I saying?

Gallant lifted an eyebrow, “Are you Angela’s slave?”

“Yes, Master. Have I done something wrong? Mistress said I could sleep in.” Nicki was close to cumming again. The fear added an unknown flavor to her sticky situation. She flexed the muscles in her ass and decided to go with the improvisation that was coming out of her mouth. He was still thinking about shooting her. If she was a mind-fucked slave, she couldn’t hurt him.

If she was dangerous—she was dead. She didn’t even wonder how she was so sure.

“What’s your name, slave?” He watched her.

“Baby.” She cooed and orgasmed. Oh, fucking, piss!! Why did she tell him that? She slid her hand down into her shaved slit. Umm. She started fingering herself. Oh, yes. This was what she needed.

“Stop that,” he growled.

She did. It felt like she had to. Had to? What was happening? “Please, Master. Let me—.”

“Shut up. Move into the bedroom.” His eyes flicked that way.

“Yes, Master.” The more she said it the hotter she got. She swayed through the small door and into the bedroom beyond.

“Down on the floor, Baby. Put your hands behind your back, then don’t move.”

She experienced another tiny orgasm as he called her ‘Baby’. She got down on her knees and lay down, quickly putting her hands behind her back. This situation was spiraling way out of control. She was so horny now.

It took him four seconds to find stockings in the bureau. He tied up her wrists. She groaned and squirmed a little despite the order not to move. She was panting with the need to cum again.

He walked back into the bathroom and looked around. Nicki was puzzled until she realized that he was so thorough that he wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed something important after being distracted by her. He quickly returned.

“Angela has given you to me. You’re my slave now, Baby.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly and rubbed her sex against the carpet. “Yes, Master. I’m your slave now.” Damn, fucking, piss!! This was so fucking hot. She hated loving this.

“Is anyone else with Angela?”

“Jack.” She just spit out the name she had heard from one of the bartenders she used as information sources.

The dark suited man nodded and thought. Apparently, he knew about Jack. “Anyone else expected or sharing the suite?”

‘No, Master.” Nicki saw the pale-eyed man make a decision about her. He decided to kill her. She could feel it in the flat expression of his eyes.

She didn’t question what instinct was working now she just acted. She rolled over slowly and spread her legs, “Please fuck me, Master.” Her hands were bound tightly behind her. She felt lit from within with a submissive energy and a need. Her mind kept thrashing for a way to live, her body kept begging her to submit and release herself to ultimate pleasure.

His eyes flickered over her. “Baby, you can’t talk. You cannot speak.”

Her eyes widened as she felt herself gush. She didn’t even try to find out if her voice was gone. The possibilities were too frightening. She couldn’t command him now.

He leaned over her and pushed the black barrel of the gun gently against her pussy lips.

Her eyelashes fluttered. Oh, piss! Oh, please not the gun. With some shock, she shifted and pressed her sex against the metal.

He smiled. “Open your eyes. I want to see your eyes. You like that. You really must be mind-chopped if you aren’t scared of this.”

She widened her eyes and met his gaze. She tried to push into his pale gray eyes with just her thoughts.

Nothing.

“You just want it so bad,” he growled.

She shook her head yes. She wanted it so bad. She tried to push again at his mind. The fire inside was spinning madly, but it wasn’t in her head, it was in her clit. She started humping the barrel of the threat he had placed between her legs.

He shifted position to help her get to it. “You want to fuck the gun.”

She lifted her hips, angling her pussy. Her face was hot with the humiliation. She nodded.

He moved his hand, accommodating her desire. “Fuck the gun, Baby.”

She felt the thick silencer slide home in her snatch. She strained her head back against the floor. Was the freaking thing hot? Had he just shot someone in the hotel? It felt so hot. The gun barrel was like a thick deadly prick easing in and out. She worked her hips and groaned. She could be dead any moment. This icy bastard came here to shoot Angela and anyone else who got in his way. Aaaaaaah. So damn good. She was close. She started to cum. Silently she thrust against his hand and his weapon. She saw the hard outline in his pants. Surprised again, she realized she wanted to suck him off. With some odd detachment, she remembered that she was a lesbian and really thought cocks were quite ugly. It didn’t matter now. Now she just had to go with it. Move with the power building. She moved her hips faster. Yes! She was cumming. Yes! She felt it happen. Yes! She welded her lips closed on the noises she wanted to make. Yes! Again! Yes! Ah! Yes! Cum! Ripping! Fuckquake!

She shivered. She stopped. She collapsed limp against the floor with dreamy relief.

He shook his head, and some humor touched his mouth, “What did you used to do? Before Angela—.” His cock strained at his pants.

She opened her mouth and tried to speak. Nothing came out.

He laughed, “You can talk again, Baby.”

“I was a nun. Sisters of Divine Inspiration.” Damn. If you’re gonna lie, lie big, Nicki. You’re still alive. Keep this bastard entertained until you can find a way to cut his nuts off.

He whistled and a flicker of heat crossed his eyes. He pulled the gun slowly out of her sex. A long strand of her cum danced across her belly. He pulled out a white handkerchief and wiped off the dripping metal. He stared at her.

She tried to push into his pale gray eyes again. Nothing. The fire was there in her cherry. It was gone from her head. Something had happened. She had lost the ability. Somehow, this didn’t add to the fear that already itched in her mind. She felt the snapping fire lick at her clit. She groaned and squeezed her ass cheeks together. “Master, fuck me again, please.”

He smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Get on the bed face down.”

She flushed with eagerness and pushed herself up awkwardly. Once on her knees, she stood and moved to the bed. She kept her knees near the edge and rested on her shoulders and chin. She spread her legs wider. “Please do me. Please. Master, fuck Baby hard.” She was talking in a higher more excited voice. She was turning herself on with a girlish tone. She strained her hands at the stocking binding her wrists.

She heard his zipper slide and shuddered thinking about his cock. “Yes! Master, fuck me!”

I really don’t like cock. It didn’t feel like her thought was even connected to the rest of her passion.

His hot member squeezed into her slippery sex. He pressed closer between her legs. He was on the bed with her now. With dread she felt his gloved fingers on her left hip. He pressed his gun hand against her right hip to steady himself.

The bastard isn’t taking any chances. And she realized that with the orgasms and the fire in her clit, that she was thinking better now. She was starting to get a handle on the lust and heat. She thrust back against the cock inside her.

“Yes! Master, fuck Baby!” She singsonged in a girlish voice.

He met her thrusts.

She noticed that his pressure against her clit was incomplete and she shifted. Better. Sparks began to dance at the corners of her vision. Much better. She felt something stir between the two of them. Felt sparks dancing and pushing from her into him.

She slammed her pussy back at him and pushed hard with her clit. She felt the jolt pass. “Yes. You are so fucking hot!”

“I am fucking hot!” he growled and his balls slapped harder against her.

She came. Oh, god. “Yes. You love fucking me!” And she pushed harder with her clit.

“I love fucking you!” he yelled and his thrust was enough to shake her entire body with a jerk.

Cum! Ripping! Oh, sweet god. “Yes. You have to have me around for fucking!” She pushed with her searing clit.

“I have to have you around for fucking!” he shouted thrusting. His grip on her hips was tighter.

Cum! Cum! Cum! Oh, sweet dear god. “Yesss. You love my fucking!” She pushed with her raging clit sparks.

He exploded. “I love your fucking!” He groaned.

She wriggled against him, thinking against him. Thinking through her clitoris and grinding her need. She kept pressing her cooling clit against his groin while she thought about living to see next day, next month, and next year.

“Gott. Eine was für fantastische Frau!” He eased back and slapped her backside. “You are a hell of a piece of ass.”

She blinked and shivered. He sounded fine. Had she imagined everything?

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up off the bed. He was strong. Fast.

She felt the warmth and lust roll through her belly. Was he hers? Or was she his?

“Now we wait for Angela, Baby.” She felt the spike of heat at her slave name. He smiled. He waved the dark pistol at the far room. His eyes gleamed with passion. The coldness was gone from those eyes of his. As she noticed that, he wrapped a leather-gloved hand around her throat and squeezed as she shifted and struggled, trying to get air, feeling the pressure and heat in her juicy slit. She flailed feebly for a grip on his arm.

She fell into darkness and knew no more.