The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The dress sat upright on the floor as though inhabited by an invisible bride. It was strapless, with a ball gown skirt of delicate white taffeta, like a sculpture of snow. A princess’s dress, it fairly glowed with virgin purity.

“It’s quite beautiful,” Dover admitted, his voice distant. “I had a bride once. It took only a year of wedded bliss before she decided she’d be happier with a different consort—a colleague from her office, as I recall.”

“She hurt you,” Julie said.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “She was lovely. Not as lovely as you two, but quite exciting in her own way. For the longest time I would have done anything to win her back.

“Years later, I acquired the power to do so with a few well-chosen words. I paid her a visit at her home. The things I made her do ...” He trailed off.

“By the time I was finished, I was quite over her. She, on the other hand, was pleading for me to take her back—kissing my feet, sobbing like a little girl. I’ve not seen her since, but I’m quite confident that an hour doesn’t pass without her thinking of me with profound longing and regret. And she’ll never want another man.”

He reflected on the dress in silence for a long moment, then roused himself. “There are bridesmaids, I suppose?”

“Yes,” Julie said. “I mean, there were.”

“How many?”

“Four, plus me,” Danielle answered. “I’m the maid of honor.”

“I really don’t care about the wedding,” said Julie. “I don’t even care what you’ve done to us anymore. I just want to be yours.”

He nodded absently. He didn’t really like making women fall in love with him. It took a good deal of fun out of his games. But it was also the safest route when taking more than one at a time. It covered a lot of ground—no need to construct commands that accounted for every contingency and prohibited anything they might do to get him in trouble. Make her love you, and she won’t want to get you in trouble.

A glance at his watch told him he had scarcely 30 minutes before the substance wore off, and his stomach wouldn’t be able to handle another dose for days.

A plan formed in his head. It was risky. Something he’d never tried before. But the payoff would be enormous.

“Julie, I want you to put the dress on. Will you do that for me?”

She nodded compliantly.

“Help your sister get dressed Danielle.”

He left them to their task and called room service from the phone in the living room. He ordered a pot of hot water, “quickly please”, then made himself comfortable on the sofa where Danielle had fucked him

He sipped some Champaign and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more. How long did it take to put on a dress?

Finally the bedroom door opened, and the girls walked out, Julie first. She was stunning—a radiant vision in white.

“Spin for me.”

She twirled and the dress billowed around her.

There was a knock on the door. Dover walked through the vestibule and signed for the hot water—$25.00. He wheeled the cart in himself: a full tea service with six cups and saucers, an assortment of herbal and black teas and a steaming tea pot.

He moved the hot water, a cup and a silver spoon to the coffee table, and guided Danielle and Julie to the couch. The next part would be tricky. He blew gently over Danielle’s face—hoping for an extra boost of control—and issued new orders. “Danielle, you belong to me now. Say it.”

She blinked. “I belong to you now.”

“You will obey me without question. Serving me is the most important thing in your life.”

“I’ll obey you without question. Serving you is the most important thing in my life.”

He blew again. “You will feel this way forever.”

“I—I will feel this way forever.”

He pulled a foil packet from his pocket, shook its contents into the cup and poured hot water over it. He started stirring.

“I’ll be honest with you, Danielle. I’ve never given this to a woman before. I’m not entirely certain what it’s going to do to you. It might just send you into a stupor for two hours.” He held out the cup. “Drink it.”

Three minutes later, Danielle emerged from the bathroom, her face sweaty and pale. “I’m sorry. I tried. I couldn’t keep it down.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. It took me a while at first. I have plenty of these.” He ripped open another packet.

Karen handed the Johnsons their room key across the counter. “The elevator is straight though the lobby on your right. Enjoy your stay!,” she said with a wide smile. The couple thanked her and rolled their overnight bag towards the elevators.

She checked her watch—another three hours in her shift. She was looking forward to getting home, then going out with Frank, the first boyfriend she’d had in a year with any real potential. Bob, the quiet security officer, seemed nice though. She wondered if he was seeing anyone seriously.

When she looked up, a guest was approaching the desk—young, blonde, bangles on her wrists and a tony bag on her shoulder. Karen almost didn’t recognize her fully clothed and without the older man on her arm.

“Can I help you?”

“I, um, wanted to thank you for before,” the girl said. “It’s nice to know the hotel is, you know, looking out its guests.”

“No problem,” Karen smiled. “Forgive me for asking, but you seem a little shaken. Is everything alright?”

“Actually, I wanted to tell you something. You remember the man I was in the room with?” The young woman leaned over the counter. Karen bent forward. Something was wrong. How could her instincts have failed her so thoroughly? She nodded.

“You have to fuck him,” the blonde said, her sweet, treacly breath filling Karen’s nostrils and flowing into her lungs.

The room seemed to withdraw around them: it was just Karen and the blonde. Her heart pounded in her ears and she swayed unsteadily. What had the girl said? She must have misheard.

“You have to fuck him,” she repeated slowly, an invisible syrupy fog puffing into Karen’s face with each syllable. “You want him. Nothing else matters now. Your job, your whole life. You must fuck him.”

With that, the blonde spun on her high heels and made for the front door, leaving Karen alone to struggle against the words sinking into her.

She stayed there, gathering herself, fighting the impulse that was taking hold. I have to fuck him. She shook her head wildly and cast her eyes around the lobby for help.

Across the room Bob came out the elevator. She tried to make eye contact, fearful that the effort of crying out or raising her arm would forfeit her internal struggle. I... have... to...

Bob saw her and smiled. She thought for a moment he would come over to her, but he headed for the men’s room instead. She let out a soft cry and felt the commands stab hard in her brain. I have to fuck him. I want him. Nothing else matters. My job doesn’t matter. My life doesn’t matter.

I must fuck him. Karen logged off the hotel computer and walked towards the elevators.

Dover leaned back and took another halfhearted sip from his glass. Champaign wasn’t his favorite, and he regretted not ordering a nice Chardonnay with the hot water. The entertainment, though, could hardly be better.

Julie was writhing on the floor, the furls of her wedding dress pulled back, one hand squeezing and caressing her own tits through the dress, the other hand between her legs where she was touching herself vigorously. Her eyes were locked on his, and she was moaning in a pleasure that wouldn’t climax. She was under the strictest command not to come.

“I promise to love, honor and obey Dover,” she gasped between groans. “For as long as we both shall live. I promise to love, honor and obey Dover, for as long as we both shall live.”

A knock. Dover left his ersatz bride and walked to the vestibule. He peeked through the peephole and opened the door.

The girl from the front desk was on the other side. She had stylish short auburn hair, a harp-shaped mouth and a spray of freckles on her cheeks. “Umm, hello sir. I spoke with your friend downstairs and I thought I would come up and see if ... if there was anything I could get you.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think so. She’s only gone to fetch me a few things. I’m quite alright, thank you.” He closed the door on her.

He walked back over to Julie. “Love, honor, and obey Dover, for as long as we—ohhhhh b-both shall live ...”

“You may stop that now.”

She sat upright and flipped her hair back, reached up to him longingly. “P-please screw me. I’m so horny. You c-can’t leave me like this.” She clutched his pants and climbed up his legs to his crotch, buried her face there. “Pleeeeease screw me.”

He pulled Julie to her feet just before the second knock drew him back to the door.

This time the front desk girl didn’t look so composed. Her eyes were downcast and her face was flushed with embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry to bother you again. It’s just ... I need you. I need to fuck you.” She forced her gaze upward and met his eyes. “Whatever she did for you, I can do better. I’ll do anything. You can have me any way you want.”

She stepped closer and lifted herself on her toes to reach him. Her mouth closed against his lower lip. She sucked and pulled on it, bit it gently, then leaned up to his ear and flicked her warm tongue against it. “I swear,” she whispered, “I’ll do anything.”

Dover had planned on making her go through a couple more rounds of knocking and pleading, but now he was finding her persuasive. So effective were her ministrations that it took him a moment to notice that they were being watched. Down the hall the young housekeeping girl who’d provided him with the room key was eyeing them with obvious unease. She was perhaps 19 years old.

She might even think to call the security guard back, Dover worried. He shrugged off the front desk girl and walked down the hall towards the chambermaid. A moment later, he returned with the pretty Latina hanging from his arm, staring into his face worshipfully.

He admitted both ladies into the suite, just as a cell phone started ringing from within.