The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Part 1: Jen

I’d never had a one-night stand.

I can’t really say for sure why I decided to, either. I didn’t think much of the guy when I first saw him. Physically, he seemed fairly average—dressed like a college student who hadn’t bought any new clothes in years, looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, looked like he was active, but on a poor diet—but he just seemed really friendly. He made me laugh right away, and he smiled a lot, and seemed attentive. He just came across as very approachable—but not fuckable. Like I’d want him to be a shoulder to cry on if I ever had a problem.

He asked if I wanted to get some coffee next door, just to sit and talk for about 15 minutes or so. I had plenty of time that day, so I didn’t really see what the harm could be—if he asked me out, I’d probably politely decline him, but he’d probably wait until we were about to leave to ask, anyway. At least it wouldn’t be awkward after saying no.

We just kind of made the usual chit-chat—what do you do for a living, what kind of hobbies do you enjoy. He struck me as optimistic and happy, but kind of unmotivated. He said he worked at a clothing store nearby, and I didn’t really imagine he made much money. Probably a part-time retail kind of thing—not the job he wanted, but he just never dug himself out of it, I figured. But he was nice, and the conversation flowed easily and comfortably enough. I was going to thank him for the coffee and then be on my way.

But he didn’t ask me out. Actually, he seemed like he was suddenly upset about something. I started wondering if somehow I’d said something that offended him—or maybe I’d looked away too much or something. I was going to ask what was wrong, but... I don’t know, I just kind of froze up, watching him. He looked pained about something. Not physically, but... Like he was really troubled.

And then he just forced a smile and asked if I wanted to go back to his house for the afternoon. In the back of my mind, I was shocked and ready to just blurt out, “No!” That was really presumptuous of him, after all. But for some reason, all I did was just smile right back and say in a cheery, chirpy tone, “Sure! Sounds like fun.”

I’m not even really sure what happened next really happened. I mean, I know it did, but it was like watching myself in a dream—things just sort of happened and I felt like I was watching them play out instead of being in the moment and directing them. I followed him out to his car, we didn’t really say much. He still looked sort of bothered—maybe sad. I actually wanted to hug him and comfort him, but some other part of me was just really into the idea of going home and climbing in bed with this near-complete-stranger.

My steps didn’t feel awkward, but it was like my body was just kind of walking without me, and like there were two versions of my own voice in my head—one that was quiet and wondering what was going on, the other starting to fill my head with naughty thoughts of what I could do with this man. Or maybe what he could do with me. Or to me.

He lived in a little two-floor townhouse in some suburbia-looking area—it looked a lot like one of those “planned communities.” I was actually kind of surprised, he didn’t really strike me as someone who had the income to afford the neighborhood. It wasn’t rich, by any means, but it was... I don’t know, nice.

Without a word, he got out of the car, and I sat there for a moment. He walked around and opened my door for me, which I thought was really nice, and when I stood, I moved in close, just looking into his eyes. I kind of felt like I’d get lost in them as the two of us just stared at each other. His gaze flitted back and forth in the most subtle movements, like maybe he was reading my irises for something. He sighed softly and then smiled again, leaning up and kissing me softly. It felt like... Like a kiss that a husband would give his wife, not a kiss that a guy would give on a first date. It felt so familiar, so tender, like without saying it, he was communicating, “I love you.”

I don’t know if that’s what he was thinking, but that’s how I felt. Like I was going to be taken care of. That little kiss made me feel warm and gooey, I thought I might melt against him. And at the same time, I started feeling really warm between my thighs, as well. There was something... Electric about him.

As he turned to go inside, I hesitated as that voice in the back of my head started becoming worried. Red flags and little alarm bells were going off—something wasn’t right about this. I was about to walk into this home and maybe even sleep with this guy and I only knew a couple random facts about his life. But that warmth between my legs almost yanked me after him, so I followed in.

The little kitchenette and living room combination were clean, if a little untidy; a blanket or two was crumpled up on the couch, a single frying pan was still sitting out on the stovetop, the mantle needed a little dusting. I didn’t get much more than a cursory glance as we just went right upstairs to his bedroom.

My head started feeling really hazy and foggy as we got up into that room. I had to take a moment to focus myself as he guided me over to the edge of the bed, settling me down onto it. I looked up at him with glassy eyes, my thoughts failing me for a moment—I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so mentally empty. I was drawing a blank for what to do or say so hard. He pushed me onto my back, then lied down next to me and drew me in close, pressing another soft kiss to my lips.

I was totally unable to collect myself, my body just kind of moved of its own accord. My arms slipped back around him and I happily returned the kiss, rubbing my thighs together as that warmth turned into a heat that started nagging at me, like it was saying, “Hey, you need to deal with me. Now.”

And with the rest of my thoughts blanketed in a fog, that voice was loud.

He reached down and started unbuttoning the blouse I was wearing while he kissed down along my cheek, to my jawline, and along to my neck. I wanted to reach up and rip my shirt open and tear my bra off to offer him my breasts, but I found my hands instead just wandering down the sides of his body over his shirt, really enjoying the sensation of stroking him as he started to undress me.

His lips suckled at the flesh on my neck as he pushed my shirt open, his fingertips tracing over my stomach, causing me to shiver and giggle softly. He kissed down my throat and past my collarbone. I gently guided him up as I sat forward, reaching around and unclasping my bra for him—really, I had always enjoyed the teasing of letting the guys I’d been with fumble around awkwardly back there, but I was in mood to wait. As he reached up to slip the straps off my shoulders, I pulled my arms in and eased myself out of the bra, quickly arching my back and pushing my breasts forward for him.

He took the invitation and traced his kissing down to my nipples, flicking his tongue across them several times. Each time it sent little jolts down to my sex, causing me to dampen between my thighs and soak my panties lightly. The little jolts also found their way up into my head, shaking loose any thoughts I was forming, leaving me pleasantly dazed and blank. I felt really helpless to stop myself, to do anything but satisfy that building and burning desire that kept getting louder and louder between my legs.

My nipples hardened quickly as he wrapped his lips around them and began suckling, his tongue shifting from the back-and-forth flicks to a swirling motion. I moaned as it felt like he had hit a sweet spot, like he was suckling on my clit despite being much further up on my body.

I reached down to start unbuttoning his jeans, but he stopped me. He took hold of my wrist and pinned it down by my side. I reached in with my other hand, but he mirrored the movement again. He then drew my arms upward and crossed my wrists over my head, holding them in place. I had never really toyed with the idea of being bonded, but my arousal suddenly spiked as I felt him assert his control over the situation. As much as I wanted to free him from his clothes and please him, I knew this was going to play out the way he wanted, at his pace. The thought only made me drench my panties.

As he started to kiss further down my body, he was forced to let up from his hold on my wrists, but I kept my arms there, feeling so wonderfully vulnerable to have my body exposed as it was. He undid the button on my pants, letting the waist glide down my thighs, stopping at my knees. I wanted to pull my thighs apart, to open myself to him as much as I could, but I was restricted by the clothing only being pulled partway off.

I breathed in quick, deep breaths as he kissed closer and closer to the waistline of my panties, knowing he could no doubt smell how badly I wanted to cum. That voice in my head, piercing through the mist and fog in my mind, had risen to a roar. It reverberated around my skull, demanding that I feel release, like a prisoner who had been wrongfully accused and was raging around. I didn’t just want to cum—I needed to.

He took the waistband of my panties into his teeth, slipping his fingers around the back of them, and pulled them down to the same level my pants had been left at, before pressing several teasing kisses back up my inner thigh. I lifted my hips towards him, trying desperately to convince him through body language that he should’ve been pressing his lips to my folds. But as he had been, he moved at his own pace.

I writhed around and squirmed, completely unable to hold still, at once hating him and loving him for what he was doing to my body. I closed my eyes, tipping my head back and groaning tightly.

And just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, I finally felt his lips press against my soaked pussy, his tongue sliding up and swirling about my clit as he suckled on it in the same manner he had at my nipple. My thoughts vanished completely and my entire body arched up towards him—my world disappeared, it was just him and me, and I felt both electric and on fire.

Everything became a blur of pleasure as he pressed his tongue deeper into me, exploring about the inside of me, finding little spots all over my inner walls that would cause me to jerk, before drawing back and rubbing back and forth against my clit firmly. I juiced all over his eager tongue, helpless to stop myself from the inevitable climax that was surging forward from within me.

My whole body began to shudder and tense up, and in a brief moment, every muscle in my body tightened, as if coiling back from the explosion that was about to burst forth. A second later, I burst, collapsing back against the bed before my hips began bucking wildly. I cried out in ecstasy as I flooded my thoughts out onto his tongue and chin, undulating in time with each little lick of his tongue at my clit.

The moment of heaven seemed to stretch on forever, and yet it faded so long before I wanted it to. He scooted himself up next to me again and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in close. I was limp against him, breathing in short, hard gasps interspersed with the occasional long, “Nnnn..”

I don’t know how long the two of us lied there, I felt like I drifted forever, so happily sated in his embrace. At some point, however, he simply stood and told me to come back downstairs when I was ready, quietly walking out of the room. I didn’t know what I was supposed to get ready for, but I slowly pulled my wet panties back up, followed by my pants. I completely re-dressed myself, then went downstairs.

He smiled softly, then took me by the hand and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek before leading me back out to the car. I had no idea what to say, I still felt so stupefied by the experience that I couldn’t form a sentence in my head.

And yet, quietly and calmly, he just drove me back to where he had picked me up in the first place. He watched me for a long moment, that sad expression crossing his face once more. It actually hurt me to see, I felt like my heart was sinking just looking into his eyes. He glanced away, then reached over and opened the door, sighing softly. He gave a small nod before looking out his own window. “I hope you find someone someday.”

I was confused by those last words, but against my own will, my body just stood and collected myself before calmly shutting the door behind me. He pulled away and disappeared back down the road.

It was only a few moments after he left that I finally came back to my senses. I had no idea what to think—what had just happened? Why did I behave that way? Had he put something in my drink? He couldn’t have, it was from the same coffee place I visited all the time. And it’s not like I was unwilling to anything he had done. And yet... Somehow it made me feel empty. I felt like I should be angry, that I should feel violated, or guilty. But all I felt was... Alone.

Part 2: Sean

I control people.

I don’t mean I’m manipulative—I mean... I guess I am, but not the way you think. Not the way I want.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to be able to connect with people, and it was easier when I didn’t know what they were thinking. When I had no control over what they said or did—when it was all real and genuine.

But one day, whatever I thought, it started influencing peoples’ behavior. I’d see a cute girl and think how nice it would be if she’d say hi, and she’d just turn, walk over, and say hello and start a conversation. I wouldn’t focus myself on her, I wouldn’t try to tell her to do anything—I’d just have a passing thought and it was like they’d have it, too.

I thought it was amazing at first. I could get people to do almost anything I wanted by just thinking about it. But I have no real control over what pops into my head a lot of the time. I had to give up drinking and partying completely after a few really terrible incidents. Actually, I almost had to completely give up being around people regularly.

It was hard having friends. I don’t know if any of them ever had an actual thought of liking me or wanting to be around me, or if it was just me influencing them to want to be around me because I wanted company. And then I’d worry about whether or not they actually liked me, and out of nowhere they’d start turning on me and acting like I was their sworn enemy. And one bad thought would beget another bad thought.

I ended up having to completely seclude myself from other people, except for brief, one-time meetings. I spent a lot of time just wandering the city at night, striking up conversations with strangers that I never meant to go anywhere with, just to have some human contact.

But I had urges to satisfy, too. I wanted to make a genuine connection with someone—to be in a relationship, to share a first date with someone, to live with someone I got along with and shared some kind of... Something with. I tried my hardest to not think when I’d meet a girl I really liked, to just try and keep my thoughts as empty as possible. I tried just playing music in my head, or just focusing on the ambient noise around me without forming sentences or coherent thoughts, but it turns out it’s really hard to interact with someone when you’re doing your best not to form words in your head.

So instead most of my interactions were limited to people like Jen. A sweet enough looking girl—not wearing a ring, I could only hope she didn’t have a boyfriend, either—that I might be able to talk to, just to give myself the hope that I could still connect with someone sometimes, even if only for 10 or 15 minutes or something.

But we’d get to talking and then my thoughts would turn to how much I really wanted to just be with them—to have their company, to hold someone close, to have some kind of sex that meant something, that wasn’t just hollow and empty. I couldn’t tell you how many women I’d slept with—do you have any idea how often, living in the city, you pass by a woman that you can imagine yourself being naked with? It got old after awhile, and I just felt... Alone.

And when you feel alone for that long, sometimes you just do things you aren’t proud of, if only because it makes you feel better. Such was the case with Jen.

I only wanted to talk for a little bit, just to have that platonic conversation, but I just couldn’t hold myself back. She was so kind, and she was really beautiful—not that Hollywood gorgeous sex symbol thing, just... She was truly beautiful. I hated that I was having the thoughts I was, and I really hoped I wasn’t going to do anything terrible to her. I didn’t want to leave her wondering why she’d just cheated on some boyfriend or something.

By the time we got to the car, I just didn’t want to talk. What if she said something that made me realize what an awful thing I was about to do? I just wanted to keep my mind off all the possibilities, to just... Get it over with and done.

When we got back to the house, I couldn’t help but feel too guilty for what I had in mind. She looked so sweetly innocent, I just couldn’t. I decided I just wanted to have a day where I made someone else happy, if only for a little while. But I couldn’t get the idea of sex off my mind.

So I took her upstairs and decided I would just make it all about her. I dealt with myself all the time, but this woman... This was going to be all about her.

But I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about all the pure, raw sexual things I’d want to do with her. I wanted to treat her lovingly, but I kept thinking about just fucking her. And I knew it was influencing her, when she reached to unbutton my pants. I finally had a moment to stop myself, if only briefly, there. I kept her hands away from me, I tried to think about keeping her focused on just herself, to forget about me.

And when she made that sound—that sweet, exciting sound—I felt, for just a little bit, happy and complete. For so long, I had felt empty and alone, but in that little moment, I drew her in close to me and felt whole.

But I had to let her go. She would end up like everyone else I’d ever tried to get close to if I didn’t let her go now. It was cold, and it was cruel, but... I had to let her go.

So I drove her back to where she was when I met her, hoping I hadn’t kept her from some important meeting or something. I couldn’t even look at her, I felt so ashamed of myself. But I told her, “I hope you find someone someday.” I really wanted nothing but the best for this woman, even though I hardly knew her. I just wanted something good for someone besides me.

And I drove away. I should’ve felt... I don’t know, maybe pleased that I had restrained myself. I should’ve felt terrible, for taking advantage of her. I should’ve felt confused. Something.

But all I felt was... Alone.