The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Welcome to your new home.” The woman said.

Trisha Soft took her eyes off the beautiful victorian home for only a second, meeting those of her real estate agent.

“I can’t believe I’m finally a homeowner.” She said. Trisha felt the butterflies in her stomach.

“Well congratulations. He’s an old house but he’s all yours.”

Trisha looked over at the woman. “He?”

“Just an old saying. Most people seem to call everything a ‘she’. This house has always seemed more of a ‘he’.”

“Oh,” Trisha said, holding the key tightly in her fist. “It’s just so beautiful. I can’t believe how low the price was.”

The real estate agent turned and looked back at her car. “Well... there are reasons for that.”

Trisha heard the tone, she’d used the tone before. It sounded like something was wrong with the place. She turned to the agent.

“What do you mean?”

The woman looked back to Trisha, her older face forcing a smile at the young girl. “Nothing really. It’s just, well... you know these old houses. They always have a lot of creaks and groans. You may be needing to do some minor repairs around the place. Would you like me to leave you the number of a contractor I know in town? He does good work and works cheap.”

Trisha looked at the key in her hand. It was warm with how tightly she’d been holding it. “Yes, maybe I should keep the number handy.”

Taking the small business card from the woman, Trisha suddenly saw the hint of movement out of the corner of her eye. Looking up to the second floor, she almost swore that for the briefest moment, a man was looking out at her. Just a trick of light, she figured, shaking her head. The house was empty, had been for almost ten years. She felt the unsettling feeling come over her like a cool breeze. Why was it empty that long? At this price, it didn’t really make much sense.

“Have fun getting settled in. I’m sure you’ll love the place.” The real estate agent said. She began to walk off towards her car, taking heavy, almost relieved sounding breaths.

“Excuse me,” Trisha said. “You never mentioned. What did the previous owner do?”

The woman stopped and didn’t turn. She looked very tense and almost nervous from behind. “Well... I guess she was an entertainer. I didn’t really know much about her. She just was known in different circles back then.”

“Oh.” Trisha said. “You mean like a singer or a dancer?”

“You might call her more of a performer. I’m sorry, I do have to rush off. Congratulations again on the house. I’m sure things will be just great for you.”

The real estate lady practically ran the short distance to her car. Odd, Trisha thought. In all of their dealings, the woman had never seemed quite so distant. She looked back up at the home, her home. It was a beautiful place and much bigger than she’d thought of getting. Living here was going to be like living in her own little castle, Trisha thought. She smiled and went inside to start unpacking.

Two weeks, that was all the time it took for Trisha Soft to decide something was wrong with the place. The first few nights had been heavenly. Her big king-sized bed swallowed her up each night in peaceful bliss. Owning a home had been a dream, a long term goal she never thought she’d reach. Now it was turning into some strange nightmare.

The first night of the second week, Trisha had been putting her clothes away in the bedroom closet. When she woke the next morning and went in to look for something to wear, the girl had found her clothing piled on the floor. All the hangers were still there, silently swinging on the closet rod. But all her clothing was piled on the floor.

If that wasn’t strange enough, the dining room table had been all set up. Candles and a centerpiece, as well as place mats and decorative napkins, were carefully placed. When she walked downstairs, Trisha discovered that everything had been wiped clean off the table. It was as though someone had literally scraped it all away with the move of an arm.

The noises didn’t start until the following morning. Trisha hadn’t slept as good and was concerned that someone may have been in her house. She didn’t know the neighborhood too well and it was close to Halloween. Some local kids might be playing a prank on her. The thought wasn’t totally out there. It seemed a reasonable concern.

When she’d woken up that morning, laying quietly in bed, Trisha heard the moans. They were clearly female moans, and the tone of them was quite clear. Whoever was voicing those sounds was experiencing something good, something very good. While Trisha was a virgin herself, she knew what it sounded like when women experienced orgasms. That was what she heard.

At first she’d jumped up, crept to the bedroom door, and looked down the long upstairs hall. The high ceilings and dark paneling only made the space look that much darker and more unnerving. The continuing moans were even more disturbing now that she could hear them clearly.

Having walked down the stairs, carefully following the sounds, Trisha came to the corner just around from the dining room. The moans were quite loud now. The woman was clearly screaming for more, wanting things done to her no proper girl should want done. Trisha built up her nerve and jumped out.

“Whoever you are, you better leave right now!” She screamed.

There was no one there. Not a soul in the dining room, the place looked completely untouched. Of course there were the same problems, Trisha had seen before. The plates, candles, the place settings, everything was wiped clean from the table. It was almost bare and that was just one thing that began to haunt Trisha in her sleep.

Another thing that began to get to her, soon crippling her chances of getting a good night’s sleep, were the dreams.

Trisha Soft had always been one for rather lucid dreams. She used to sleepwalk all the time as a kid and often spoke in her sleep. Now, those problems seemed to be back. At first she would wake up standing in front of the closet. It was open and all her clothes were on the floor. Then she’d wake up on the floor beside her bed. The dreams were hazy at first, but that slowly went away. She distinctly remembered a man standing there watching her. The man said nothing at first. He only pointed at Trisha and the bed. He pointed to the closet a few times. Then he began to talk. His words sounded old, not like he was old, but like he spoke with the practiced pitch of an actor or a performer.

After a few nights of the dreams, Trisha began to find herself moaning in her sleep. Sometimes it was loud enough so she woke herself up. The morning she woke up face down over the dining room table was the worst. Trisha screamed and moaned. She felt the man holding her down. He was doing things to her, she could feel his touch. The worst part was it all felt really good.

That was just a day or two before she decided she wanted to take her mind off dreams and sleepwalking. She wanted to get to the bottom of what the noises were, why things were going on around this house.

Taking out the business card she’d been given, Trisha dialed the number for the contractor. If anyone was getting in the house, she’d need new locks. If something was causing stuff to fall off the dining room table, maybe the floor was crooked. Same for the upstairs closet. Maybe the closet had balance problems. Whatever the case was, Trisha felt it reasonable to ask the contractor’s opinion.

“Hello, Ray Jenkins, Handyman. How can I help you?”

“Hi, are you the contractor who does work with Control Realty?”

“Sure am ma’am. What did you need?”

“I moved into the large house on Elm Street just a couple of weeks ago. There seem to be some things going on and I wanted to see if you could possibly come by and take a look.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

“Do you mean the Victorian house?”

“Yes, my name’s Trisha. I hoped you could find some time to come by, maybe this afternoon.”

Another pause and the man seemed to sigh. “Okay, I now the place. I’ll be there around two, is that okay?”

“Yes,” Trisha said. “Yes, that’s great. Thank you so much.”

It was just after two o’clock when the doorbell rang. It was an old musical number that somehow sent strange tingles into Trisha’s spine as she rushed through the foyer to answer it.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Jenkins. Thanks so much for making the time to come by.”

The man was older, about the age of Trisha’s father. He seemed friendly enough and extended his hand. “Call me Ray, really. I’m glad I could come by. You know it’s been almost ten years since I’ve been here?”

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, I work the area pretty regularly. The last owner called me actually only a couple weeks after she moved in. I guess that’s a coincidence huh?”

Trisha smiled, running a hand through her long hair. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Something seemed really strange, she thought. Every little hair on the back of her neck seemed to be standing on end. Why did she feel so weird all of a sudden? She shook the odd feelings away and escorted Ray into the dining room.

“This is one room I wanted you to see.”

Trisha turned to Ray and noticed he’d been looking more at her than the room. That strange tingling crept back into her skin. What was wrong? She ran a hand back through her hair and rest it on her hip.

“Anyway, the problem seems to be the floor, I think. All the stuff keeps falling off my dining room table and I really don’t know why. I figured you might be familiar with this kind of thing.”

Ray smiled and put a hand up to his chin. He kneeled down and looked beneath the table. “Oh I know the room all right.”

“You do?” Trisha said. Her hands now rest on both hips and she leaned forward towards the man. “That’s great, did you do much work in here last time?”

Ray looked right up into Trisha’s cleavage. He grinned and seemed to take a moment to think.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I did some hammering and pounding in this room. The home owner seemed satisfied.”

Trisha saw his wandering eyes taking in her curves. Why didn’t that bother her in the least? She actually found herself leaning over more, letting the man really take in her virginal body. This was strange but his mention of the previous homeowner brought up different thoughts.

“Did you know the woman who owned this home before me?”

Ray stood and walked over towards the far end of the table. “Not really before I came out to service her, I mean service the home. She was a strange one, beautiful like you. But strange.”

Trisha blushed a little. Why was she feeling so flushed all of a sudden? Her clothing felt tight on her and everything in the room seemed to be spinning. She tried to compose herself and noticed Ray writing something down on the clipboard he held.

“Do you think you know the reason, you know, is the floor crooked?”

“I’m not too sure about that. I think I know what’s happening here. It might take a little while to figure out. Is there something else you wanted to ask me about?”

“Yes,” Trisha said. “My closet upstairs, it keeps dumping all my clothes on the floor.”

Ray laughed a little and approached her. “Maybe it doesn’t like what you wear.”

Trisha grinned. “Seriously though, it keeps dumping them on the floor. I wondered if something could be wrong up there also.”

Ray seemed to think for a moment. “This is your bedroom closet right?”

“How’d you know?” She asked.

“I checked some things out up there the last time I was here.”

“Really, that’s kind of odd.”

Again Ray laughed. “More than you can imagine.”

Trisha was confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. Let’s go take a look.”

Trisha left the dining room, leading Ray up to her bedroom. Something seemed right about what she was doing. She couldn’t describe why. It just felt good to be leading a man to her bedroom. For some reason as soon as she set foot across the threshold to her room, the house seemed to go cold. Her nipples stood quite noticeably hard beneath her conservative blouse. She wondered why this was happening. Even more disturbingly, she wondered why she liked it. Why was she even now trying to prominently show off her breasts to this man she’d just met? He was old enough to be her father. Why was she acting like this in front of him? Her head seemed to throb a little as they neared the closet.

“Well here it is. They’re probably all on the floor already. It usually happens less than a few hours after I rehang everything.”

Ray stepped in front of Trisha. His musky man smell permeated the air between them and Trisha found herself leaning in towards his frame. She didn’t even pay attention as he opened the closet door.

“Well, they aren’t all on the floor.” Ray said. He turned and smiled at the girl.

Trisha realized she’d been staring at his muscles and hovering inches from his shoulder. She shook her head and straightened up, looking in the closet.

“Those aren’t mine!” She said. Her voice was a little shrill with embarrassment.

Trisha stared into the closet. All her stuff was on the floor as she’d expected. The things left hanging were skimpy articles of clothing she’d never seen before. There were flimsy negligees, tight looking corsets, tiny little micro-skirts, even tinier tops. These were the kind of things she never even thought of wearing. They looked like costumes for a whorehouse.

She turned and looked into Ray’s eyes. The man was grinning kindly. “I swear to you, those are not my clothes. I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

Ray looked back in the closet. “Really?” He asked. “It’s a shame, I thought you probably looked great in them.”

Trisha Soft felt something she hadn’t felt in some time. She went completely wet between her legs. Her body seemed to convulse slightly at the man’s words and her knees grew weak. How flattering, she thought. He actually thought she’d look nice in those clothes.

No, Trisha fought back. No, that wasn’t right. She shouldn’t feel anything about those clothes. They weren’t hers. She was a good girl. Good girls didn’t wear stuff like that. Only dirty girls wore that stuff. Naughty dirty girls.

It was several moments and Trisha was silent.

“Are you okay ma’am?” Ray asked.

“Huh? Oh yes of course. I was just thinking about something.”

Ray grinned and looked back in the closet. “I’ll bet you were.”

“What?” Trisha asked. Her head was really throbbing now. She felt her dreams coming back to her more clearly now. She knew the themes of many of those waking nightmares and they weren’t nightmares. They were depraved, devilish, even naughty. But they weren’t nightmares, they were wet dreams. Why was she feeling so strange?

“Nothing important. Why don’t I go downstairs and get started in the dining room?” Ray said. “Unless of course you have anything more to show me.”

The man seemed to put emphasis on the words ‘show me’. Why did he do that? Trisha shook her head, bringing a hand up to once again thread her fingers through her hair. She looked at Ray through surprisingly sultry eyes. He was a man, a real handsome man. Who cared how much older he was? Men had needs.

Trisha gasped, turning away and looking at her bed. Why did she just think that way? What were those thoughts bubbling up to the surface in her mind? She tried to steady her tingling tummy and turned to the contractor.

“That was it, thank you.” Her voice was barely a whisper and Ray seemed oddly comfortable with her confusion as he walked away.

Trisha turned and looked at her closet again. Where did these clothes come from? Was someone else in her house? Maybe she should call the police. Trisha couldn’t think clearly at all. Her head seemed to throb worse the closer she got to the closet. Still, she didn’t turn away. The strangeness of those skimpy clothes hanging there right in front of her was too much. She had to look closer. She had to feel the silk and lace. Something was just so compelling about all this.

Her skin felt sparks shoot into her as soon as she touched the first garment. As she ran her fingers up and down the lacy pink nightie, Trisha imagined how something like that would feel on her skin. Her pussy twitched and seemed to open up as she imagined wearing these clothes. She’d look so bad, so naughty if she wore this. Her eyes grew heavy and Trisha found her mind soothing. Her head seemed to stop aching so harshly. As she continued running her fingers over different articles of clothing, the sensations grew and grew inside her body. This was right. These were her clothes. These were what she was born to wear.

Trisha looked around the bedroom. The thoughts coming into her mind weren’t her own. She knew that. They seemed to come from all around her. They flew into her from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. These were what she should be wearing. She was a naughty girl. She was destined to be a whore. Why fight it? Why refuse it? It was what the house wanted. It was what she wanted.

Before she even understood what she was doing, Trisha had begun unbuttoning her blouse. She dropped it beside her on the floor, kicking it into the pile of rejected clothing in the closet. That wasn’t her style anymore. Not now that she understood her place.

Fingers fought with her pants and soon they were on the floor as well. Running her slender hands up and across her skin, Trisha breathed deeply. She leaned back and reached up under her bra. Her tits felt so amazing. They were full and firm, and sadly never before fondled by manly fingers. That wasn’t right, she thought. It wasn’t right that these beautiful white milkers not be groped and enjoyed. They were meant to be pulled and that’s what she did now. Trisha ripped at her bra strap, letting the offending piece fall away. She grabbed her nipples and pinched them, tugging one and then the other up to her lips. The girl sucked and bit at her own breasts. She loved the sensations. This was what she was meant to feel. It felt so right.

Her panties soon dropped to the floor. Panties were something good girls wore. Trisha wasn’t a good girl. How could she have ever thought she was? Good girls didn’t get to do all kinds of fun things. They didn’t have men grabbing their tits. They didn’t have men bending them over. And most importantly, they didn’t have men pumping big cocks inside them. That was what Trisha wanted to do. She wanted a man. She needed a man. As she stood there completely nude, squeezing her tits and sliding a finger down to her wet cunt, Trisha realized she knew where a man was.

Grabbing a couple of pieces of clothing from the closet, Trisha grinned. These would do nicely, she thought. Sliding the tiny silk skirt on and squeezing her massive tits into the too-tight top, she took a moment to feel herself up. Looking in a nearby mirror, Trisha saw the girl she really was, the whore waiting to have her virginity taken and then be fucked like the bad little girl she was.

“I guess I’d better see if Ray wants anything.” She giggled, strolling out the bedroom door.

When she entered the dining room, Ray wasn’t checking the floor. He didn’t have a level out or even look like he’d been doing much of anything. No, Ray was simply sitting in a chair next to the door. He seemed as though he’d been waiting for something. If his leering gaze up and down Trisha’s nubile young body had anything to say, she felt she knew exactly what he was waiting for. She walked right up to him. Standing there with her hand on her hips, she raised the other one and ran her fingers through her hair. A sultry and wanton look filled her face as she studied the older man.

“I want you.”

“I knew you would.” Ray said.

The man reached up and ran his hands along Trisha’s thighs. Her creamy skin felt chilled and tingled at his touch. She looked into Ray’s eyes.

“How did you know that?” She asked.

“That’s the way it is with girls like you.”

“Why?” Trisha asked.

“My great great grandfather once owned this home. He was the original owner in fact. Of course he’s been dead and gone for years. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t still hanging around.”

Ray slipped his fingers up beneath Trisha’s skimpy little skirt. He rubbed the smooth skin all the way up until the juncture between her legs.

“No panties I see. That’s nice. We won’t be needing them anyway.”

“Ohhhh...” Trisha moaned. The man continued fingering at her cunt as he stood up.

“You really are one of the nicest ones yet.” He said, stroking her hair and running his hand down her face. “You’re young too. You remind me of my daughter. Of course I never wanted to do this to her.”

Trisha gasped as Ray grabbed her top and tore it off her. Her large tits bounced at his chest and he grabbed one tightly in his fist. The contractor smiled and leaned forward, licking the tip of her hard nipple. He slobbered over her flesh, rolling it up and then letting loose. He was using her for his pleasure. Trisha grinned. This is what she was here for.

“Enough talk.” Trisha moaned. “Take me, fuck me. Use me!”

Ray did just that. Grabbing Trisha by the tits he swung her around towards the dining room table. He shoved the girl forward over the table. “I think you know what to do.”

Trisha did. She knew exactly what to do. She climbed onto the table and wiped her arms across everything. Candles and place mats flew off onto the floor. She kicked at the center piece and soon was laying flat on her back, the only decorative object left on the table. Spreading her legs wide, she displayed her tight little cunt at the man. She wanted him to know what he was getting. She wanted him to see her as the whore she was.

“Trisha, you look like you belong there. On your back with your legs wide, that’s the way dirty little girls like you were meant to find themselves. Now let’s get that pussy of yours all nice and full, shall we?”

“Yes!” Trisha moaned. She lay back and allowed Ray to climb onto the table between her legs.

The man fumbled briefly with his jeans and soon was working his boxers down, freeing a very hard throbbing cock. He looked down into her eyes and smiled. Grabbing her tits, he took a moment to appreciate the position she was in. Her body was tingling all over now. She needed this. She had to have this. It was who she was.

“Ohhh Yessss! Oh fuck yesss!” Trisha screamed. She widened her legs as Ray drove down into her. He thrust right through her virginity and kept on going until he was buried deep inside her body.

Trisha felt her mind melt at the pleasure of having her cunt fucked. It felt so right. It felt so good. It felt so naughty. She lay back on her dining room table and accepted the pounding this man was going to give her.

“So hot, so perfect, unghh... yeah that’s the way you always are.” Ray grunted. “You girls are always so sweet and innocent. In the beginning you just don’t realize why you’re here. You’re all whores down deep.”

Ray slammed his hips down into Trisha. His cock filled her tight womb. He only increased his pace, watching the girl’s breasts bobble up and down. Her nipples danced and shimmied as Trisha accepted her place. She was a tool for men’s pleasure. She always had been. She always would be.

“Oh yes, Oh fuck me, fuck me hard.” Trisha moaned. She wrapped her legs around the man, drawing him deeper inside her. “Treat me like a whore!”

Ray paused and looked down into her sultry eyes. She looked so slutty. She was so slutty. Pulling his hard dick from her, he grabbed her hips and rotated her over.

“No, don’t stop. Fuck me.” Trisha whimpered.

“I am.” Ray breathed.

He pulled her up to all fours and drove back inside her. The breath left her chest as Ray fucked her doggy style on the table. This was what she was now, an animal rutting away in her dining room. Her body was meant to be used like this. She knew what she needed now.

“Oh please, cum inside me. Please fucking cum inside me.”

Ray fucked the girl like a bitch in heat. Trisha felt every last inch of his cock plow right into her womb. This was right, this is who she was. She felt the orgasm take over and screamed out obscenities, words she had heard before. This is what she heard in her house. This is the sounds she experienced. The voice that cried out was hers. She was the slut. She was the naughty dirty whore.

“OhhhhhÉ Oh Yes!” Trisha screamed, pounding her fists down hard on the table.

Ray grabbed her hips and pulled them back into him. He sank his cock fully inside her and flooded her with semen.

“Oh... I can feel it. I can feel your cum inside me!” Trisha knew this was right. It was good to be full, it felt so good to be bad.

She collapsed onto the cold hard table top. Her tits squashed deliciously out to her sides, the tingling inside her body settling into a dull throb. She felt the man pull out from her. Her legs trembled and semen leaked all over the table. This is what it meant to be a girl. This was her life now. Turning to look back at the man, Trisha watched him pull his jeans up. He was smiling and watching her. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Suddenly it hit her. The headache returned and with it the strange sense of confusion she’d been feeling since the contractor got here. Trisha Soft suddenly recognized where she was, what she’d done.

“Oh my god, Oh my god!” Trisha moaned. “What did you do? What did we do?”

She pulled herself up, seeing how naked she was. This was wrong. This was so wrong. She wasn’t this girl. She was a good girl. Trisha covered her tits and looked over into Ray’s eyes. He was pleased looking.

“What happened?” She asked.

“We fucked. That’s what happened.” Ray laughed. “And might I say you have a mighty fine cunt. I look forward to filling it again in the future.”

Trisha stared at the man in shock. The memories flooded into clarity. She realized her dreams she’d been having came true. She understood what the contractor had meant when he said he’d done some pounding in the dining room before. But why? Why did he do that?

“I don’t understand, you... you...” Trisha swallowed hard. She felt cum running down her legs. She wasn’t a virgin anymore and while that bothered her, what bothered her more was the sensations she felt as she looked into Ray’s eyes.

“Don’t get yourself worked up again. You’re cute and like I said young. I haven’t cum that hard in years. You’ll forgive me if I’m not quite ready to jump right back to it just yet.”

“But how?” Trisha asked. She leaned against the table. Her pussy was wet and frothy. She was beginning to like the feeling again. Her mind struggled with what was happening to her.

Ray walked away, out of the dining room and into the foyer. “It’s really simple.”

Trisha felt the longings fade as the man walked away. The further she got from him, the more herself she felt. Her thinking cleared and she watched Ray near the front door.

“My great great grandfather couldn’t leave our family the house. He had too many debts to do that. You see, he was found to be running a whorehouse in this place. The state found out and foreclosed on almost everything he had. The Jenkins name was pretty much destroyed. Of course, I guess you could say he’s more than made up for that since. The house has passed from one owner to another, all pretty young women like yourself. My sister works real estate in the area. She makes sure to steer young buyers like yourself into this place.”

Trisha watched the man. Her eyes were wide. She was scared and confused. Her legs trembled beneath her tiny skirt.

“To make a long story short. Girl’s like yourself are what my great great grandfather left me. Actually he left you to all the men in my family. Your body, whenever you are near a man in this house, will become what it was meant to be. You are a part of the house now, a whore to serve those of us left in the Jenkins’ line. I’d get used to that if I were you. Getting cocks shoved in every hole you have. Getting cum stuffed into your cute little nubile form. That’s what you’re here for.”

“No” Trisha said. “No.”

Ray Jenkins turned and looked at the girl. Her tits were wrapped tightly in her arms.

“Yes Trisha, and I’d stop trying to fight what you are. I’ll be sending the first ‘customers’ over tonight. Be sure and put your earnings in the mailbox. My brother swings by everyday. He’s the postman.”

Trisha looked down at her ravaged body. Her tits were sore and slightly swollen. Her belly felt surprisingly full. Her legs were wobbly and slightly unsteady. Semen was now pooling at her feet. As the contractor left, she found the oddest expression coming over her face. Her mind knew this wasn’t right. But she couldn’t help it. She had to smile.

How do you like that kiddies? I guess innocent little Trisha Soft had what it took to make a man hard. You could say she really found herself when she moved into that place. Of course I’m betting a lot of men found her at that place. They probably found her over and over again. Let that be a lesson to you kiddies. When a house seems like it may be too good of a buy, it probably is. Poor Trisha thought she’d only have to pound a few nails, work out the kinks in an old home. She never knew she’d be the only kinky thing getting nailed in that home. She still does a lot of pounding. You might say she gets her brains pounded out, and she loves it.

Sometimes my wretched reader, you don’t take possession of the house. The house takes possession of you. Words of advice, watch where you live. As for me, the Kreme Keeper’s work is never done. I’ll sift through the steaming Kreme Vault, tirelessly toiling the troublesome task of teaching titillating lessons to little boys and girls like you. You just wait, I’ll be back with more.