The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With a sigh I looked at my husband as we turned in the keys to the apartment we’d been living in since before we got married five years ago. After all the discussions, the uncertainty, the anxiety, and the second-guessing of our decision, there was no turning back.

As he wiped away the tears that were streaming down my cheeks, I thought, for a brief moment, he was holding back some tears, too. He smiled at me; anyone who’s ever met him will know that it’s that disarming smile of his that calmed me down and lifted my spirits.

We hailed a cab and rode to the airport; our car was already en route to our new house in the deep south.

One thing I’ve always loved about flying, is the opportunities you have for talking with your fellow passengers. I know that some people feel that way about trains, too, but when you grew up in a big city taking the subway everywhere, you kind of teach yourself not to look at the other riders. And, for me anyway, that extends to trains, too.

So on the plane, David and I got to talking with the woman sitting next to me, and we explained that we were literally giving it all up, leaving the big city for the quiet life of the country.

Mind you, we’re not actually giving up our jobs; I’m still going to be a lawyer and David will still be selling insurance. But we’re both hoping that, living in the middle of nowhere, our lives won’t be as fast-paced. We’re even holding off on finding work for at least a month while we get the new house in order.

And if we need to, we can always try and find other work. Again, less stress and more time to relax. David and I haven’t really talked about it, but maybe we’ll have a baby or two.

So the plane landed—it was a smooth and comfortable ride, and we rented a car and David drove out to the house we’d be buying in a few hours.

David had been telling me I’d love the house and I realized he was right as we walked around the grounds before our agent got there. The house was majestic; there really was no other word for it. Beautiful and spacious, it had all the look and feel of a plantation from more than 100 years ago. Then there was the land itself. Even though no one had been living there for a while, and the grass was a little bit overgrown, the rolling hills, the trees, and the small lake made it look perfect. This was the picture of peace and tranquility I had always imagined southern homes are supposed to look like.

We walked back towards the front of the house and saw our real estate agent pulling into the driveway. He greeted us warmly and with all of the flattery I had learned to recognize when I was about six years old. Normally, I would’ve turned my nose up to that kind of a gesture, but now that we were here, I didn’t want to make a bad first impression. Besides, with that heavy southern drawl, he at least sounded sincere in his flattery. I found myself wondering if the women down here were wise to such patently ridiculous comments. I kind of hoped so.

So anyway, we went into the house and started to look over all of the rooms. There was already a fair amount of furniture still in the house, which was a good thing since our apartment was so much smaller than this house, there’d be a lot of completely empty rooms if all we had was the stuff that was shipping. That’s not to say our long-term plan was to keep all of the furniture, but I immediately figured we’d probably keep most of it.

Earl was walking us through the house and we came up to the master bedroom. There was a good-sized floor mirror standing in one corner, covered by an old blanket. I lifted the blanket off of the mirror and decided to use it to check my makeup and hair.

That’s when the strangest thing happened. I felt ... There’s no real word to describe how I felt, but I guess ‘disoriented’ would be a good start. I looked into the mirror and it felt like my reflection wasn’t just me, but an alternate version of me. If I was here, looking at myself in the mirror, then my alternate me was in the mirror, looking at me, here. I got a chill down my spine as I felt this. My eyes widened and then I saw my reflection. Have you ever had that bizarre sense that you’re somehow not the sum of all of your parts, but rather, there was something else out there, too, that you’re just ... missing?

Well, with my husband and the real estate agent standing right there, I didn’t want to make it seem like this was happening, so I proceeded to check my hair and makeup in the mirror. I thought the ruse worked, until it was time to leave the bedroom and continue with the home inspection. My reflection, it—well it winked at me.

I tried to remain calm after that but to be completely honest, I wanted to get away. It was a beautiful house and I definitely wanted to buy it, but that mirror had to go.

My husband told me he could tell something might’ve been wrong when we got into the car to head over to the real estate agency to settle on the house. When he said this, I told him about how my reflection winked at me and how it weirded me out. I was speechless when he said he saw me winking at the mirror.

Anyway, the settlement on the house went smoothly and then we took our agent out to lunch at what’s apparently the most popular restaurant in town. It took us nearly two hours to finish lunch just because we had a steady stream of people—including the mayor—introduce themselves to us while we were eating. Normally, I wouldn’t have minded, but I was hungry and tired. My husband handled it quite well.

On the way back to the house after lunch, my husband agreed to get rid of the mirror. In fact, as soon as we got home—it was our home now—he went straight up to the master bedroom to work on getting rid of that mirror. I figured I’d keep my distance and take stock of what was in the kitchen.

My husband’s a fairly big guy. Not ridiculously muscular, but he’s definitely strong enough to do some heavy lifting. And that’s why I was surprised to hear the sounds of him grunting and groaning, as he tried to move the mirror out of our bedroom.

Before I had the chance to ask him if he was all right, he simply called to me, “It’s heavier than it looks.” I had a hard time focussing on anything downstairs because he was making so much noise.

Finally, the sounds of him struggling with the mirror stopped. I could hear him letting out a heavy sigh, probably played up to make me feel sorry for him, and then the doorbell rang. It was Penny, our new neighbor. After a minute, David had come back down to the kitchen and she was introducing herself to both of us. She gave us a basket of homemade cookies but didn’t stick around long enough to chat.

Penny’s a nice girl, kind of sweet, even if she did kind of fit my mental image of what girls about her age in the deep south are supposed to look and act like. You know what I’m talking about: courteous to a fault, charming drawl, somewhat naive about herself. The kind of girl the guys fall over even though she’s blissfully unaware they’re even looking. I guessed she was about twenty or so and I wondered if she’d ever been kissed.

So Penny left and I poured David a cup of coffee. He sat down and I excused myself for a minute. Don’t ask me why I didn’t go to the bathroom right outside of the kitchen, but I went upstairs. I chalk it up to a desire to see (1) if the mirror really was that heavy or if David was faking, and (2) if what happened before the settlement was just something in my imagination.

Anyway, I saw the mirror standing in the hall, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I smiled and checked out my makeup. Have you ever had the sensation of detachment from your own actions? Like you’re somehow both observer and participant to yourself and your life? Well, that’s how I felt. I can’t really explain it better than that. I got a little bit of a chill when I called out to my husband, except that I don’t remember really calling him. It was more like I opened my mouth and his name just popped out.

They were my words, all right, but I don’t remember putting together the thoughts or the ideas before I said them. But I definitely told my husband that I wanted the mirror back in the room.

I stepped away from the mirror and David asked me if it was all right if we got the movers to put the mirror back into our bedroom. The most I could muster the courage to say was a feeble, ‘sure.’

So, anyway, the next day the movers put the mirror back into the master bedroom and left. One guy commented about how strangely heavy the mirror was, so I was sure that my husband wasn’t just trying to get out of doing some work around the house, even though I knew he was telling the truth from the start.

I steeled myself for my own fears, knowing that the mirror was here to stay. David and I were now alone, in our new house, and all of our possessions had at long last arrived. I was happy and I knew that the time had come. I called David into the bedroom and commented about how we’ve got a lot of rooms to, um, break in, as some might say.

Looking in the mirror, I decided to watch myself taking off my blouse. It was something I’d wanted to do anyway, and I was feeling more than a little bit turned on.

I always loved the feel of his hands on my sides, my back, my shoulders. I’m not even entirely sure what it is. His hands aren’t too rough, but they’re not baby-soft either. Long, muscular fingers that just seem to find all of the right spots. I think I first fell in love with him when he gave me a backrub years ago.

So he unclasped my bra. He was always quick and confident but there was a feeling of clumsiness as the cups themselves fell away from my breasts. I might have been imagining things this time, but I felt his hands move somewhat more cautiously than I’m used to. That’s not a bad thing, just not what I expected.

I sat down on the bed and kicked off what was left of my clothes. I’m sure some people might think it’s a bit boring, but for our first time in our new house, for some reason, the missionary position just felt right. We would have plenty of time to be more adventurous later.

But then I got hit with one of the most amazing orgasms I’d ever felt. It was a subtle vibration emanating around every part of him that came in contact with some part of me, and it rolled out and around, through and over my body.

I clenched up my legs, dug my fingernails into his back and relinquished all control. My head kind of flopped back and to the side and I found myself looking at my reflection in the mirror. I never liked looking at myself when I was with a partner, but this time ... this time was different. For a brief moment I felt like my reflection winked at me again and then I felt this sense of peace and clarity. A sense of purpose. If my life had been a movie, you’d have seen a beam of light coming into our bedroom, shining on my face as an angelic choir vocalizes. It was that amazing.

That mirror... The peace of mind... That complete sense of non-fear. My body slackened and I just enjoyed everything about my husband, the house, the mirror. I must’ve been mad to have been afraid of the mirror. Once we were done, I knew that all I needed was to snuggle and listen to his heartbeat.

He was stroking my hair when he commented about how much of a wild woman I had been. I knew that I was being quite active and aggressive, but I honestly felt like I as just acting and reacting along with his own motions. Whatever I’d done or not done this time, compared with other times, I was still feeling the vibrations and, goddamn! I liked the way it felt. I thought it was just the release of all of the tension, fear, and anxiety that had led us to this day, and we were now just in a position to relax and enjoy our lives.

So, we had officially started to get settled into our new house. There were a lot of rooms to, um, test, and David was certainly a willing and enthusiastic partner. For all of the rooms we were in, though, I found that I liked the master bedroom the best.

You know how I said that the first time we’d had sex in our new house was so great because of where we were, and how we got there? That’s certainly true, but I think the mirror might’ve had something to do with it, too. I decided against telling my husband that.

So, after a few days, my husband came into the kitchen one morning and told me he was going into town to see about picking up a few things so he could redo the study. I figured it was about time to start planning the housewarming party, so I asked him to pick up some invitations and favors, too.

Not five minutes after he left, the doorbell rang. Penny, our neighbor, stopped in to see if we needed any help with anything. At first, I couldn’t think of anything, but then I realized I wanted to talk to her. Ask her what she knew about this house. I gave her a cup of coffee and we started chatting.

It turns out that there were legends about this house, stuff the townsfolk would say, hoping to scare children away from playing in the yard or otherwise nearby. Ghost stories and all.

Now I’d always been fascinated by tales of haunted houses. Not sure I ever believed any of them, but I was always disappointed when I walked into a really old building that’s still in use in some capacity, and the people who worked or lived in there didn’t know of any good ghost stories. Turns out that a Civil War vet caught his wife sleeping with another man and so he killed both of them before turning the gun on himself. According to legend, all three of them continue to haunt the house.

I shrugged and told Penny that, if the legend was true, neither David nor I had seen the ghosts. That doesn’t mean we won’t eventually, but at least for now, nothing.

Penny went on, though, and this is what fascinated me: the wife claimed she didn’t know what she was doing. How is that possible? When you’re sleeping with someone, you usually have a good idea what is is you’re doing, even if you’re losing all control. Penny, inexperienced as she might be, thought the same thing.

When there was a lull in the conversation, I had a naughty thought. Would Penny appreciate the mirror as much as I do? The mirror only seemed to affect me, at least in the time I’ve been here. Why didn’t it have any impact on anyone else? Then again, I was the only girl to see it since we bought the house, so I started to wonder how Penny would respond.

I asked her if she wanted to see something cool and, of course, she said yes. Penny hesitated a moment when she saw that I was taking her up to the master bedroom, but I smiled and I guess that was enough to calm her down.

So I led her into the bedroom and showed her the mirror. I let her step directly into the line of the mirror. It didn’t take long before I saw her reflection wink. I knew that the “Penny” in the mirror was taking control.

Penny shuddered. I suspect that she felt the same way I did when I first saw my reflection, so I stepped closer to her and placed my hand on her shoulder.

She turned her head and I looked straight into her eyes. I saw some confusion, some fear, but also excitement and eagerness to understand more.

I gestured towards the mirror and her head slowly turned back to face her own reflection. Her mouth opened wide and her hand moved upwards. I knew what was about to happen but at the same time, I still wasn’t fully expecting her hand to come in contact with my tits.

But when I felt her hand, I let my bathrobe fall open to give her, shall we say, some more direct access. I stepped a little closer and whispered in her ear, “How’re you feeling?”

She bit her lip. I looked at her reflection in the mirror; she was transfixed. There was a wild look in her eyes: a little bit confused and scared, a little bit confident, and more than a little bit excited.

My hands found their way her hips as I grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and lifted it above her head. Her arms were somewhat limp and gave me no resistance until the last strands of her long blonde hair fell out of her T-shirt.

Once I had removed her shirt, I started to unclasp her bra but she finally turned to face me. Although she didn’t say a word, she flashed me a look that essentially said, “Not so fast....”

I let out a silent gasp as she pushed me back onto the bed. Quickly, I pulled my arms out of my bathrobe and lay there before her, completely prone, wearing nothing but a pair of panties.

She then took off her own bra and hung it casually on one of the legs of the mirror.

Before I had the chance to sit up, she was crawling over me, running her nipples up my legs, over my panties, up my belly, until, finally, she brought her tits into direct contact with mine. I let out a low whimper of pleasure when her nipples, constantly circling mine, turned me on more than I’d ever felt with another woman.

I guess I should clarify something here. I did a little bit of “experimentation” in my younger days. It was more out of curiosity than anything else. I had some fun with the other women, sure, but I still found that men were just, well, better at ringing my bells. Nothing against the women themselves, who were all attractive enough; it just so happened that, well, I preferred guys.

No big deal, mind you, and that’s certainly nothing against those who do prefer to swing from the other side of the plate, so to speak. I’m just saying I’d tried both. My decision was nothing if not “informed.”

But Penny... She’d barely done anything to me and already I was a quivering pile of hormones and mush. I reached forward, half-blindly, and somehow found the clasp on her skirt. She sat up over me, and, after a little bit of fumbling, I was able to undo it, and I felt a rush of adrenaline as the fabric came floating down onto my body.

She stood up off the bed and I felt the soft cotton brush over my body until it landed on the floor. I took advantage of the moment and kicked my panties off. She apparently had also taken off her underwear at the same time; before I knew it, she was back down on top of me and I could feel her soft muff rub against my freshly shaven mound.

I grabbed her head and pulled her close to me, kissing her passionately, my tongue flicking quickly into her mouth. I could tell she wasn’t quite as experienced as I was, and it was fine. She let me do what I wanted to do; she tasted heavenly.

As she pulled away from me, I had that strange, detached feeling again. It had been growing since before we started taking off each other’s clothes, but there was no question that it was back. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me.

I can’t be certain, but I suspect she felt it too. The way she shifted her body weight over me, I wondered for a moment if she was getting that same detached feeling. It was certainly possible that she was just lightheaded from the pleasure of me fumbling, grasping, groping, kneading, and, eventually, mauling her breasts, but I don’t think so.

We explored each other’s bodies for a while. It was so amazing, so powerful, so ... erotic... I’m not really much of a kiss and tell type person, but in this case, I’ve got to make an exception. Sometimes it felt like some invisible force was guiding my body, showing me things I’d never seen or felt before. I never asked Penny if she’d felt the same way.

But after a while, I heard the door close downstairs. David called to me and I yelled back, saying I was in the bedroom. When he came in and saw me and Penny, I sat up, flashed him a shit-eating grin, and said, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Penny sat up and invited him to join the two of us. He hesitated for a short while, but eventually, he did. The three of us took turns pleasuring the other two. I was reminded why I preferred the guys back in my more experimental days, but this time... well, let’s just say I wished Penny had been around when I was younger. She definitely seemed more into things than he was...

I thought I was quite gracious letting our neighbor fuck my husband like that. It was hot just watching the two of them, even if it did seem like he wasn’t all that into it. After he was done, we all figured it was time to actually get some work done, so we all got dressed and Penny went home.

Over the next few days, David and I started discussing our plans in earnest for our housewarming party. Penny showed up every once in a while and she always seemed interested in looking at herself in the mirror. Not that I can blame her, but it was good to know I wasn’t the only one who wanted to spend just about every waking moment looking at her reflection. She volunteered to help out with some of the logistics of our party. I loved the idea. David was cool to the idea but he didn’t put up any serious arguments against it, so she became our unofficial hostess for when the party was going to take place.

If at first, Penny would come by once a day, she was stopping by every few hours over the course of the next few days. That was fine by me, actually. Sometimes, it’d be all three of us. Sometimes, one of us would watch the other two gettin’ all hot and heavy. I really enjoyed watching David and Penny. It was kind of liberating, actually. To think there once might’ve been a time when I would’ve been jealous.

The first couple of times, I got the sense that David wasn’t entirely comfortable with this arrangement, but he could see that I enjoyed it and, well, let’s just say that I was able to convince him that it wasn’t worth fighting over.

So, at any rate, the day of the party came and David and I were excited about having our neighbors over to see our house. Penny, of course, volunteered to help us out.

As the night started, Penny was collecting coats, helping me and my husband remember names of the local townsfolk. We got to meet the mayor’s wife, a statuesque trophy wife if ever there was such a thing. I repeated her name to myself in hopes of remembering it: Corinne.

David certainly played the part of the debonaire sophisticate, when he took the mayor wife’s hand and kissed it. It took a lot of strength on my part not to laugh, but she seemed to enjoy it.

I offered them hors d’oeuvres, and she took me up on it. Corinne and I went into the kitchen while the men chatted amiably over their scotches.

It turned out that Corinne was one of the few residents of the town (not counting me and David) who didn’t actually grow up here. When I asked her if she’d heard any ghost stories about the house, she responded coolly, “Nothing that I’d put any stock in, unfortunately.”

The way she lingered on the word “unfortunately,” led me to believe she was hoping for a good juicy ghost story, not unlike what I wanted.

I figured I’d probe her for a greater meaning but didn’t want to push too hard. “So I guess all you’ve heard are stories that are supposed to scare the little kids, huh?”

“Yes. You?” If she wasn’t born and raised in this town, she certainly didn’t have to travel far in order to land here.

“Pretty much the same.” My voice was starting to develop that drawl that I had laughed at only three short weeks earlier.

The two of us stopped at a painting on the walls, of what looked like a hundred-year-old explorers’ ship. Corinne pointed at it and smiled. “This is a lovely picture. Did you bring it with you when you moved down here, or was it already here?”

“We brought it with us. We haven’t yet decided where we want to hang it, but this is as good a place as any for now.”

The mayor’s wife asked, “Other than with furnishings and decorations, what else would you like to do to this house?”

“Just general fix-ups, you know. I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t think we should paint the walls. This house is just too perfect.”

She asked if we were going to do something with the grounds.

David, whom I didn’t realize was standing right behind me, answered that we were going to wait until summer. The mayor’s wife seemed kind of startled by his response, too. She then commented about how too many of the townsfolk had never been here before. After a brief dialogue between the two of them, David mused that it was probably the stories they would tell children about the house.

After that, Corinne wandered off to talk to a few people, and David tried to engage Miss Kitty in conversation, presumably about the restaurant. I waded through what had become quite a large group of people when I ran into Trish, the secretary from the real estate office.

She mentioned that she’d half-heard me and the mayor’s wife talking and wanted to know my take on all of the ghost stories she had heard since she was a little girl.

I thought of the mirror and giggled. I’m not sure why. When she heard me giggle and saw what must have been a mischievous look in my eye, she scowled. “What? You know something, don’t you?”

“I don’t think the house is haunted, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No, but something’s ... you’re thinking of something out of the ordinary.”

“Well... I don’t know if I should tell you,” I teased Trish.

Trish, you should know, is very good at flashing someone a pouty, wide-eyed look. And it gets really hard to say no to someone like that. Not that I was going to say no to her anyway; I just wanted to tease her a little bit. I decided to play coy and finally tell her what I knew, but only if she promised not to tell anyone about it.

She agreed, so I said, “It’s easier to show you than it is to tell you, so come with me.”

She seemed a bit confused by this, but I led her up the stairs and to the bedroom. From the doorway, I pointed at the mirror and said, “Go check out that mirror!”

She stepped into the room rather cautiously, but, when she saw that I was following right behind, she changed her manner and either hid her fear, or lost it.

Just as I had with Penny, I made sure that Trish had a good view of her own reflection as I stood off to the side. I immediately started to get horny. I knew that Trish had seen it, too, when she let out a quiet, yet quite surprised-sounding, “Oh!”

She turned to look at me; she had a look that seemed torn between scared and confused. I wonder if I looked anything like that after the first time I did what my reflection wanted me to do. I stepped in a little bit closer to her and gave her a hug.

I think that was enough to ease her fears because I was able to redirect her focus back to the mirror, with both of us in it. She reached around my body and unclasped my bra through the fabric of my blouse and jacket. The mirror certainly worked quickly on her. Maybe it’s getting used to being around people again and it’s doing some catching up, so to speak.

I decided to stand there, by and large motionless and let Trish do all of the work. I was glad I’d done that, since she’s quite good with her hands. As each shred of clothing was removed, I felt my heart flutter slightly as her small-yet-strong fingers traced their way over my body.......

In almost no time whatsoever, I was completely naked, standing before Trish, who was by this time looking over my body, smiling broadly in what appeared to be approval of what she saw. I felt quite proud. I reached forward to start removing her clothes, but she slapped my hands gently.

She started to remove her clothes as she shook her head in a playful “uh-uh-uh..” For a minute, I thought she was going to bind my wrists with her blouse, but that didn’t really happen. It just felt like she might, considering what she was doing with it.

I took a step back and away from her as she continued to disrobe, far more sensually than I would have done, but she apparently enjoyed it. I browsed around in my bureau, and I almost didn’t find the vibrator I had used a few years back, before David started to sleep with me with any regularity.

By the time I found it, Trish was completely naked. I turned on the vibrator and it made that familiar humming sound as I ran it over her body, not wanting to hold it in any one place for too long.

When it came in contact with her nipples, she just closed her eyes and smiled. I teased her a little bit by not moving it below her navel, at least at first.

I took her hand and led her over to the bed. She lay back in front of me and I smiled. Before I had the chance to do anything else, Penny had come upstairs and was pleased to see me and Trish about to get underway.

Penny looked unsure of what she should do. I looked at Trish, who seemed to want me all to herself, at least for the time being. Penny stepped closer to us and stopped to admire herself in the mirror.

“What do you think, Penny?” I asked. “Do you think some other people might appreciate that mirror?”

She was a bit short of breath when she answered, ‘Yes.”

“So why don’t you go and bring them here?”

“All right.” Even though she agreed to do so, it took her a few minutes to leave the room again. Trish and I didn’t mind, though.

Trish just lay back and I let my hands explore every inch of her body, every curve, her soft flesh just responded to my fingers; just hearing her gasp was such an intense turn-on.

I started stroking her hair as I adjusted my body to suck on her nipples. I never asked Trish if she was normally this sensitive, this responsive, this sensual, or if her near-orgasm as I nibbled gently was the culmination of ... of a passion long dormant. Suffice it to say she was a quivering mound of jelly by the time Penny actually left the room.

When Penny left, I positioned myself over Trish’s face to let her taste the sweet folds of skin that came together between my legs. At first, Trish was a bit unsure of what she was doing; I respected her caution and asked her if she needed some guidance. She declined and stopped for a moment as she gazed into the mirror.

Within a few seconds, she started acting like a madwoman, mouth open wide and sucking and nibbling on whatever she could get her lips around. The sudden aggression caught me slightly off-guard and I fell forward, just inches away from her visibly moist cunt. I inhaled deeply and followed my instincts, stretching slightly to reach her.

Even though she was trying to keep her body still, she started kicking her legs out slightly. I think it was more to achieve some level of control as the last of her inhibitions and fears dissolved into her powerful howls of ecstasy.

As her yelps died down in frequency and intensity, I looked up and saw Penny standing in the doorway. Miss Kitty, from the restaurant, and Corinne, the wife of the mayor, were with her.

“This ought to be fun,” I thought, smiling broadly. Miss Kitty looked somewhat aghast, while Corinne seemed to take this much more in stride than I would have expected, considering her position as wife of the mayor.

Trish and I slowly sat up, although I never did take my hand away from her right breast, as Penny guided the other two women closer to us, and towards the mirror.

Somewhat quickly, Corinne nodded at her reflection in the mirror and smiled broadly. I knew in an instant that her actions were doing what the mirror wanted her to do.

Corinne stepped back and Miss Kitty centered herself more in front of the mirror. Penny, whom I hadn’t been watching, had by this time stripped down to just her panties, and started to run her fingers through the mayor’s wife’s hair. She put up no resistance to Penny’s advances, in fact, she seemed to openly appreciate it.

Of course, by now, all women of all ages, shapes, sizes, and orientations, would appreciate anything that happens around the mirror. Miss Kitty closed her eyes and let out a long sustained sigh.

I gave Trish a gentle push and she stood up, standing directly behind Miss Kitty. Trish gave her a gentle nibble, right on the side of her neck. Miss Kitty ... well, she just melted. And in a way that I’d never really seen before.

I don’t think she actually fainted, but she fell straight into my arms. Not that I complained about that. She didn’t put up any resistance as I started to take off her dress. She obviously knew what was good for her and I wasn’t about to do anything to make her think otherwise.

If you’ve ever wondered what kinds of fun can be had in a king-sized bed, just know that five grown women can fit comfortably in it. If you would have asked me at any given time, who was kissing whom, who was playing with whose tits, and who was enjoying the sweet juices from whose nether-regions, I couldn’t tell you, even when I was the one doing the kissing, playing, or sucking. I’m pretty sure I both pleased and received pleasure from all four of my beautiful guests, though.

The vibrations and the rhythm of the five of us, enjoying each other’s company and bodies lingered, long after we all collapsed in ecstasy and exhaustion.

I looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that I had been up here for about an hour and a half, at least an hour of which was with four other women. However much I didn’t want to break up this circle, I knew that we’d have to get back to the party. Surely by now some people might wonder where we are.

We all hastily got our clothes back on and, one by one, went downstairs. I hope it wasn’t too obvious what we were doing upstairs, but suffice it to say that there was a fair amount of smeared make-up, wrinkled clothes, and, of course, less-than-perfectly coiffed hair. I didn’t care, though.

We all came downstairs and started chatting, trying to be nonchalant about what had just happened; I turned my head and saw my husband, smiled, and excused myself from the other four women. As I turned away, I smacked Miss Kitty on the ass, who let out a low yelp, glanced back at me, and winked.

She needs to come back here when she’s got a day off.

The rest of the evening went smoothly enough, although there was no real excitement once the five of us left the mirror. David and I started to clean up from the party, which, by any practical standards, could be judged a success.

David apparently did notice my absence, along with a few of the other women from town, and tried to call me on it. I brushed him off simply by saying that we were just having fun.

Of course, I’ve always thought that when a bunch of girls are having fun, that’s nothing compared to the fun a girl and a guy can have together, and I decided to play this up.

It was kind of strange for him to reject my advances; he even asked me if I was drunk. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth; I think I had maybe one glass of wine all night.

So then I practically begged him to take me. After a short while, he relented, but said he didn’t want to do it in our bedroom. Of course, I protested that, too.

That’s when he asked me what’s going on. He said I wasn’t acting like myself, and then asked me whether I had taken the other women from town up to our bedroom.

I sighed and said that I had, and offered to tell him everything, so long as we went to our bed.

You could see the conflict in his face ... and in his body. I was turning him on, just by my begging, but at the same time, for some reason, he didn’t want to give in like that. I really didn’t understand it, but I needed answers as much as he did. Still, he finally conceded and I’d won yet another one.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the stairs. He fought against me and we both fell a little bit when he pulled away. I pouted and told him that I’d be upstairs, even if he didn’t want to go.

He said he’d be up in a few minutes, so I decided to tell him not to keep me waiting too long. And then I called him, “Stud,” in such an overtly seductive voice that I could almost hear his heart start to pound in excitement.

I ran upstairs, took off my clothes, and lay back in bed, completely spread-eagled and waiting for him. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and felt myself getting hornier and hornier. This was going to be good!

Then, when he came upstairs with a scarf, I almost couldn’t restrain myself. Was he really about to tie me up?

He’d never done that before and I let out a squeal of excitement and curiosity as he bound my wrists together above my head, and then to the bedpost.

I suppose I should say that David was a boy scout when he was a kid. And now, that boy was about to do some of his best scouting.... I couldn’t wait. I tugged at my binds and they were nice and tight, but not so tight that it cut off my circulation. Just tight enough to make me even more aroused than before, if that was possible.

I glanced at my reflection, which just relaxed and seemed resigned to my position. I decided to play the delicate southern belle, crying out in a mock southern accent, “Oh, dearest me! Whatever shall I do?”

He chuckled, telling me I didn’t need to play the helpless female, but I ... well, considering my position, I was the helpless female. And I liked it. Now it was just a matter of time before he would take advantage of me.

All I had to do now was wait. I know it was only a few minutes, but when you’re as aroused as I was, it just felt like an eternity. Finally, he approached me and asked me a few questions about who I was with. I may not have been entirely truthful with him, but then again, I don’t know who did what to me, and who I did what with.... So I acknowledged Penny and Corinne.

He made it awfully hard to concentrate as he was playing with my tits, kissing me, fingering me, and eating me out at the same time. I think I could be forgiven for not remembering all of the details of the night up until now, don’t you think?

Besides, it’s hard to be both truthful and squealing in delight at the same time.

He told me to close my eyes so I wouldn’t be able to see what he’s about to do. I did so and I felt him move away from my body. I frowned, but only for a moment, since I knew full well that I was about to get something really, REALLY good.

I could tell that he’d stood up completely off the bed. He did put something down on the floor outside of my line of sight before he tied me up. I guess I was about to find out what the mystery item is. My mind started racing with the possibilities. Was it something out of the kitchen? His toolset? Something he’d bought somewhere and kept hidden this entire time? Who knew?

Then I heard him let out a grunt and I heard a low thud. I opened my eyes and saw him trying to destroy the mirror! I was horrified! I tried to move in some way to stop him, but my wrists were just too tightly bound. I tried to swing my legs around, but the mirror was just too far away. I started begging and pleading with him to stop.

He took another swing. I know he didn’t make any physical contact with me, but it felt like, with each swing, he was knocking the air out of me at the same time. Why was he doing this? I thought he loved me! This...

I lost count of the number of swings he took. Each swing set me off a little bit more, each one hurt just a little bit more, each one chopped away at another piece of my soul, until, finally, the mirror shattered and a million pieces came falling down to the floor.

I couldn’t bear to hear it, the sound of the shattering mirror sounded like a thousand people screaming in terror, followed by silence. It was a sound so disgusting, so obscene, I curled up into a ball and started to whimper before I decided not to restrain my tears any longer.

He gently laid his hand on my back. He told me that the mirror was turning me into something I wasn’t ... That’s not how I saw it: the mirror brought out a side of me that had long been dormant. It was a sensual part of me. Raw sexuality. He asked me how I felt and I told him honestly: like I just lost a part of me.

Then he reaffirmed his love for me, something I wasn’t quite ready to return. Still, after my lightheadedness cleared, and through all of his explanations of what was happening, with me becoming addicted to it, and then me being the reflection and the image in the mirror controlling my actions, I finally understood that he really did do it because he cared for me, the whole me and not just the “me” between my legs.

We agreed that we’d still have sex, and that I’d be bound the whole time, too. It was an interesting experience, very powerful and, to be honest, it felt really good, but he was right: the whole bondage thing isn’t for me. It certainly was worth trying, though.

After a nice long, restful sleep, I finally came to the conclusion that it really was for the best. We decided to take a walk on the grounds of our home. We walked hand-in-hand, appreciating the beauty that surrounded us. We stood over the pond and gazed out over it.

I picked up a small stone and skipped it across the pond. When the ripples subsided, I felt a slight tinge of joy when my reflection in the surface of the water ... winked at me.