The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Deborah Flynn — Thursday, July 23rd, 2015

I ran my hand through my hair needing a minute to sit down. I had been run ragged since I became Matthew’s. He had no idea what it took to start a business, to run a business, to have girlfriend, to fuck someone when she needed it. I had a glass of lemon water on my desk. I was pushing the straw around with my index finger. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Good afternoon, this is Flynn’s Diner and you’re speaking with Deborah Flynn. How may I help you today?” I spoke cheerfully through my practiced smile damning the short end to the short breather and I had been shorted.

“Um, Hello. I am Jimmy,” Not with that deep Indian timbre you’re not Rajesh, “I am calling on behalf of The Bank of Montreal and Visa. There are some unexpected purchases on your credit card, may I ask you a few identity confirming questions?”

“Of course,” I sighed, I was getting good at this. This was my first Jimmy, I had talked to a Sally and a pair of Shawns already. I rounded off my date of birth, my maiden name, and the name of my favorite schoolteacher.

“Very good Mrs Flynn,” I didn’t correct him. I was only starting to get the Ms at work after four years.

“Yes, I did purchase a dozen gold watches. Yes, I did order several costumes of varying sizes online. Yes, I did order two separate massages as the same time this afternoon. I kept the smile the whole time. No sense being exasperated to a telemarketer. At least, I was only a sex slave.

“Oh, well, very good then,” He seemed very surprised, “We’ve reinstated your card. It should be activated within two to three business days.

“Great,” I rolled my eyes, “Thank you, Jimmy.” And I hung up in his ear. It seems the only things I could buy were kitchen supplies and vibrators without getting a call. That made me feel like the strong independent woman my mother had raised. I slumped backwards in my chair, knocking my hairclip loose and letting a quarter of my hair fall onto my shoulder. I saw the clock. Much work to do. The door whipped open.

“Ms Flynn!” Tiffany hoarsely whispered as she skidded from the line’s tiles onto the office rug.

“Hey, how did it go?” I beamed. Tiffany swallowed some air and darted her eyes around.

“Matthew’s not here yet?” She worried.

“No, he’s got to check out yours and Courtney’s masseuses doesn’t he?” I smiled. She whipped up straight.

“Uh, masseuse and masseur,” She mumbled.

“Ew.” I smirked.

“Are you homophobic?” Tiffany’s eyes went wide and scared.

“I have eaten your pussy, kiddo,” I deflected idiocy away, “Tell me about the masseuse.”

“Pretty, does a good job,” She shrugged, “Matthew won’t be disappointed.”

“Great, now I guess you can get to work then?” I hinted as strongly as I might. I hadn’t had to yell or chew out Tiffany at all yet. I didn’t want to have her as another Raena. I held myself back as she panicked and refused to budge towards the door.

“What is it now, kiddo?” I sat up, pulling out my hair. i used to braid it when I was a waitress, if only I had the time now. I could get one of the girls to do it for me but, yeah, credibility and being the boss. Braiding each other’s hair was a few steps past fingerbanging them.

“Mom and dad are here,” She blushed and bounced. I stood up, shaking out my hair, and pushing the door behind her.

“Then why aren’t you in uniform?” She was wearing one of Courtney’s tank tops. It hung low on Tiffany’s front blasting her tits all over the place. Cute bra though, “I believe you’re working.”

“I am, I mean, I will, I—” She was whipping around.

“Raena sat them at table fourteen,” I put my hand on her Tiffany’s shoulder. “She wasn’t even supposed to be in today so she’s a bit snappish. Go take her place. You have a promise to keep.”

“But-but—” Tiffany’s eyes went wide as I grabbed her chin and forced her to look into my eyes. She stopped whimpering. Her shoulders got taller. “I didn’t bring the watch from Carmen’s.”

“Raena did,” I rolled my eyes and let her go. I walked over to my desk. The ones I ordered wouldn’t be here for a few days. I picked up the felt box and opened it for Tiffany.

“Cleo inscribed yours and your dad’s name on the bottom,” I pushed it into her. This was a waste of an experiment. We knew it worked, I had been ready to give it to Franklin. I had to raid Everett’s home for another. Matthew took that one from me too.

“OK,” She took a deep breath. Closed the box. Turned on her heel. She started to take a left out the door.

“Your uniform’s in the staff room,” I reminded her. She swirled on the tile. I was going to have to get Phoebe to mop really soon. Tiffany darted for the back. Courtney sashayed past the door. I left, waved to Franklin, fixed my hair in the staff washroom, and followed a going to break her neck Tiffany out into the dining room.

“This it?” Sylvie asked, scraping a half eaten vegetarian quesadilla into the trash. The plate hit bounced in the bus tub. No wonder I had to replace so many dishes. At least I only lost the silverware because college students are thieves.

“This should be it,” I agreed. Sylvie came up beside me and ran her hand over the small of my back. It was a sweet gesture, one I hardly expected. I smiled. Tiffany skipped, skipped, Kelly was more mature, skipped over to her dad’s table. Her mom was there. She looked like Tiffany, only a lot fairer and with reddish hair. Her dad was a big, olive skinned, man with shock gray hair and indefatigable smile.

“Fifty bucks says she’s going to fuck this up?” Sylvie dared me.

“OK,” Tiffany was a good slave for Matthew. She wasn’t willing to give up on things. Her dad would be wearing that watch in a heartbeat.

“Let’s get closer so we can hear it,” Sylvie grinned.

“Do you have tables waiting?” I arched an eyebrow.

“One but it’s Bobbi’s sister and brother-in-law. I’m not going to get tipped anyways,” She pushed me with her stare. Fine.

“This is the only time I let this slide.” We walked across the dining room to the cashier’s island in front of the door. Table fourteen was just to our right and behind us. We could hear them well.

“I can’t believe you took job Tiff.” Her mother was saying, “We can help you out with money and engineering isn’t something you can just half ass.”

“But mom—” She was on the back foot.

“OK, for the summer, this is probably good for you. You miss one assignment, you’re quitting,” The mom declared.

I was disappointed by that. Tiffany was great, she turned nineteen and she’d be waiting tables. Courtney still should’ve been pouring coffee and sitting folks.

“Lay off her Gail, " Her dad guffawed, “Tiffany is a strong badass. She can handle whatever she chooses to handle, ain’t that right, darling.”

“Damned right!” She beamed.

“Now get back to work,” He growled, “You took on responsibilities. You have to meet them.”

“Yeah, I do,” She quavered but rallied. I tilted my head to Sylvie. Fifty dollars well made, “Hey dad, I wanted to thank you and mom but I hadn’t gotten to get something for her yet and—”

“You kidding, Tiff?” Gail, the mother, laughed, “You’re off on your own and making us proud. This is great. It’s all we need.”

“And a phone call every week,” Dad said, “If you fall into just texting, she’ll eat me alive with worry.”

“Dad, please, I got you this.”

Sylvie tapped out the monitor and rolled out the cash drawer. She gave me two twenties and a ten from my own drawer. I scowled at her. She smiled, blew and kiss and walked to the line. She definitely made that in tips today. I’d just have to double check that she cashed out fifty shy when she left. I frowned as I realized I couldn’t deal with stealing workers anymore.

“I’m sorry, your waitress will be by in just a minute to finish up with you,” I smiled warmly to the old couple who still came to the counter to pay. They smiled back, happy to wait for Zina. I walked around the back and saw Tiffany’s father showing off his watch to Tiffany’s mother. Tiffany flashed me a manic smile. And all was set. Matthew would do the rest.

Melissa Yeo — Thursday, July 23rd, 2015

What a stupid day. I fiddled with the plastic bracelet that airhead had slapped on me. She didn’t even notice when her towel was down. I picked up my water bottle and rinsed my mouth out, spitting into the back sink before I took a proper drink. The water bottle went back into the cooler. The ice had melted. I shook out my hair.

I watched the clock. Dreading another customer today. I did well, well enough that I could do a few less everyday and be happy. Tick tock. Flo was a slave driver though. What would be wrong with five hour shifts instead of seven? Tick tock. I bounced on my toes, too hopeful against another knock. I just wanted to get home and get into a bath. Tick tock.

Quitting time. I practically tap danced as I rushed out the door. Sergio was making some overacting cougar moan. That was so gross. I liked making people feel good but too many idiots crossed those wires with sexual attraction. Uh. Humans.

I smiled as I slid into the break room and unbuttoned my smock. It was nice and cool in here, but I knew when I stepped outside I was going to melt. I wore scrub pants over my shorts. I shoved those into my purse. I jumped at the knock at the door.

“Hey, you done?” Flo looked in from the door, “Got a call in asking for you.”

“I want to say I’m done,” I answered with a frown.

“He’s a chronic pain case, said he was recommended you.” Flo powered on.

“By Tim?” I pouted.

“Must be,” She shrugged.

“Alright, if he’s on his way.” I pinched my nose, “Do I get paid overtime?”

“Yeah, if you break 40 hours.” She laughed. I wanted to show her but if I clocked six hours in one patient there’d be questions. I rolled out the scrubs and stepped back into them. I had to hear that cougar again. Tramp.

At least I didn’t have to wait long. A tall black girl and mousy brunette were crutches for a tall heavy brown haired guy. Much younger than I expected.

“Hi, welcome to Peninsula Massage,” I smiled, “I’m Melissa. Do you need to help him up onto the table?”

“I’m feeling numb enough,” He said with light heavy slur. Painkillers, I guessed. Well at least he’d be sedate. The black girl let him go but the brunette followed him over helping him out of his shirt. I quickly rushed into the little washroom as he stripped down and toweled up. I caught myself in the mirror. I looked sleepy, that wouldn’t help. I faked a better smile, picked up some oil, and peaked out. The black girl and the brunette was gone. He was laying face down on the table with a towel over his butt.

“Hi, have you done this before?” I asked lightly.

“Yeah, I’m even getting good at it,” I laughed with him.

“Where does it hurt?” I started with running my hands over his back, seeing if he flinched. He was on a lot of drugs though.

“Right above my butt,” He smiled.

“OK,” I squeezed his shoulder, “I’ll be right back we’ll get started.”

I hurried out to the front. I saw the brunette girl stepping out onto the street as the door closed behind her.

“Hey, Flo!” I whispered to my boss at the reception desk, “What’d he pay for?”

“Star package,” She smirked devilishly.

Son of a bitch. I was going to be here for an hour at the minimum. The cougar had quieted. The late shift would be in soon. I was hoping to dodge them. I didn’t dislike them, I just wanted to be off work.

“OK,” I grinned, “Let’s begin.”

“This place smells nice,” He said sleepily. I had been kneading him for twenty minutes now. He was full of knots and twists. Getting good at it my ass.

“I like it too,” I grinned. He flinched as I dug deeper into his shoulder. He growled but when I moved on he sighed brightly. I was about to move down to his legs.

“I’m going to roll over now,” He announced. I wanted to stop him. the towel was just laid across his butt not tucked in. I saw a few dicks here. I tried not to. I would’ve told him to stop but I didn’t. Luckily, he didn’t knock away the towel. He was tenting it pretty hard though. “Hi.”

“Uh, hi,” I frowned.

“What’s that on your wrist?” He smiled goofily.

“It’s a bracelet. Some coed raising money or something and—”

“Cool,” He sighed. I brushed back my hair. I smiled too hard. I moved to start on his chest and arms.

“You really should start working out,” I told him, “If you want to get the best out of this. A little weight training. You’re a bit soft.”

“You don’t like soft?” He smiled. I tried not to roll my eyes and failed. He was odd, but he could’ve been pervier.

“I like healthy,” I said, “And I like muscles.”

“I like soft,” He said. I froze. Everything I had thought about him being less than pervy evaporated as he ran hand up my ass. I just about called him out on it. Marched him out of the clinic, “It’s OK. You’re soft.”

“Thank you,” I said as he took his hand off my butt.

He was quiet as I worked out what I could. He was not as stiff. But his tented towel kept quivering. I tried to avoid looking at it as I went down each of his legs. He really appreciated the bottoms of his feet. Because he had rolled over early, I was ready to call it quits.

“We’re just about done here, how do you feel?” I asked with a smile.

“I feel just about done,” He grinned broadly. I blanched as he pulled away his towel.

“I don’t do that for anybody,” I shook my head.

“Maybe i’m not just anybody,” he beamed. I guess he didn’t have to be. He was nice. I smiled. The door was locked. I wondered if any of the other girls did it. If Sergio did. I couldn’t believe it when I grabbed his cock. I closed my eyes.

I had been single since October. Four guys over that time, none willing to put in the time I’d want before I was ready to do anything sexual. I had felt unwanted. Right now, I was doing something so far out of my comfort zone, but I felt wanted. I tried to fight that.

He had a nice cock. As cocks go. I was 29 and this was my fourth, really. His foreskin wiggled up and down over the mushroom head with every pull. I squeezed tightly. I had been told over and over again that I was too light too cowardly. I yanked harder. He made the right noises.

I took my other hand and settled in on his thigh. Rubbing in the muscles as I pulled him.

“Is this going OK?” I worried. I either saw the backs of my eyelids or his face straight on. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my hands. I took a deep breath.

“Oh this is great,” He said as if he was sinking into to a big soft bed and going to sleep. I squeezed a little. His eyes jump but his goofy drug addled grin stayed about the same.

“Good, I’m glad,” I lied. He laced his fingers under his head and just let me work. Good. I couldn’t have taken notes and directions well at that moment. How are dicks soft on the outside and hard on the inside. Like anti-M&Ms. He melted in my hands.

“Thank you Melinda,” He murmured.

“Melissa,” I snarled. He opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Melissa,” He grinned, “You have great hands. Really soft and strong.”

“The better to massage you with, my dear,” I made him laugh and I finally felt my first smile of the day that felt like a smile on my cheeks. I was unprepared for him spurting up over my fingers.

“Yeah...” He strung out in three long happy syllables.

“Um,” I only really hand cum gobbed all over my thumb. I wiped that off in the towel and wiped off his belly, “I think that’s the end of our time.”

“You make a great sex slave,” He said sitting up and brushing my hair with his fingers.

“Oh!” I giggled, “That’s the kind of games you play? I guess you aren’t just anybody.”

I surprised myself by kissing his cheek, “If I give you my number. Can we can go out to dinner?”

He just looked completely confuddled. I got worried. He said: “Of course, that sounds great. We’ll do lunch on Sunday.”

“I was hoping you were free now,” I shrugged, “But I like lunch. Sunday.”

“Sunday.” He still rattled me by how he looked at me now. I was hoping this wasn’t a mistake.

Gail Luck — Thursday, July 23rd, 2015

I had never kissed a woman before and now I could feel my daughter’s tongue on my own. There was a cock between our mouths. The silver and black diamond bracelet on my left hand jangled as I pumped that cock into our mouths.

The one thing my marriage had never suffered was dearth of interesting sex. I couldn’t see my husband. I could hear him. He never dared talk that way to me.

“You fucking garbage tease, scream!” He yelled and Raena obliged shrieking out wordless notes in a broken klaxxon. I was incredibly wet. I had been tied up, smacked,spanked, choked, and dribbled with hot wax. Not tonight was vanilla. But I never been cussed out. I was jealous.

“Cum on Wizard,” Tiffany murmured her voice running through my lower lip and I heard her like I had never heard my daughter speak before.

“Cum you thief in the night,” I moaned, “Cum you daughter snatching monster.”

He had a fat dick, shorter than I was used to big around. It felt completely alien in my hand. I called him a kidnapper and a brute. I picked my words so I could mean what I wanted to mean but never describe in a way he couldn’t be proud of. Matthew Reid was a bad person.

“Wizard,” My daughter pleaded, with her wide open brown eyes. Her tongue was on my index finger’s knuckles. I shuddered.

“Cum you fucker,” I snarled, knowing he was tipped over his point of no return. Jets of sticky cum smashed the tips of the my teeth and scoured the skin of my jaw. My little daughter, so different than I ever dared imagine her, so much like her father in the way she wanted sex. Cum dripped over each side of her nose. She grabbed my neck, licked me all the way to my ear. I quavered. I was so hot and furiously disgusted. I wanted to be called out for it.

Tiffany preened, posed, and waited. I couldn’t and was glad I didn’t, lick the mess from her face. I was pushed down and Matthew stood up. I shook his hand out of my hair and rose up myself. There was a brutal mess over my thighs. That blonde with the dragon tattoo waited primly on the sofa. Tiffany fell faintly into the sweat stink armchair that Matthew had sat.

“She’s good isn’t she?” Matthew reached down and pulled Raena’s matted hair from her green eyes.

“She’s a fucking whore and she taught my daughter to be one too!” Mr Luck growled. I grabbed his neck and kissed it. He leaned his head on mine.

I looked down at this girl. Her skin was red across the side of her belly where my husband hand been dragging her whole tiny body up and down his cock.

“I’m a whore!” Raena panted with gleeful grin. Her neck spasmed and she folded upward. She swore as she came. She balanced only on one elbow and the crown of her skull. I caught her flailing hand. He just held her ass in the air and skewered his cock into her dripping sex.

“How about Mrs Luck?” My husband dared Matthew, “Was she everything I told you she’d be.”

“I think I like your daughter better,” He wounded me. But Tiffany was giggling. I couldn’t be mad, not over that, I was mad for so many other reasons, first of which was Randy pushing me and Tiffany onto the fucking tyrant, “But Gail sucks a great dick.”

“Oh God, she certainly does!” Where was his goddamned Jealousy? Disappeared in that fucking Rolex knock off laid across the night stand. I reached down and twisted Raena’s breast. At least I could be jealous.

“Mrs Luck! Oh my God yes!” Raena squealed and I backed off in half panic. Matthew wiped away tears that were welling up in the little blonde’s eyes.

“We’re thinking of piercing her tongue like Sara’s,” Tiffany slapped my ass and I squealed, not in the tumultuous fiery throat that Raena did. I was too pink and tired to get any redder.

“Oh my God,” Mr Luck was coming. Imagining some little whore as his personal Viagra drip. I was too old for that kind whorishness. I hoped he knew that. I expected he didn’t.

“Thank you, Mr Luck,” Raena panted, her eyes returning to their forward facing alignment.

“Thank you, Raena,” He said, “If only I could take you home with us.”

“Seriously?” Matthew was rejuvenating his dick in Sara’s mouth while my daughter pushed the short little haired blonde skull back and forth, “If you want her, please. She’s yours.”

Sylvie Paoli — Friday, July 24th, 2015

There is such a thing as good anal sex. I shrieked again. My throat was as raw as my ass. I dug my fingers deeper into Phoebe’s shoulder. He slapped me again.

“Jesus Christ! If your dick’s going to be that big, use more lube!” That didn’t come out as eloquently and cohesive as I’d have liked. There was echoes of curse words, the sound of grinding teeth and punches into a mattress stripped of sheets. Phoebe ran her fingers harder on my clit.

“Suck it up, princess,” Craps slapped my ass again. He did it really hard. If my hole wasn’t on fire I’d have loved it, “And don’t go leaking your Santorum all over my bed.”

I screamed again. I’m sorry Jesus’s mom, I don’t truly think you were that much of a whore but I had to say something. He kept fucking. Long stroking and punching me in the guts. Phoebe kept rubbing, there was more fucking K-Y on her fingers than in my asshole. My pussy though, was a goddamned faucet. Had a human ever pushed their lower teeth through their upper teeth? I was about call Guinness book of records.

“Fucking whores!” He called out and I felt him aim upward into my backbone as he coated my insides with cum. I punched and punched punched that fucking mattress. I wished the sheets were still on so I could pull them up again. “Jesus.”

He slipped back. I ground my crotch into Phoebe’s fingers hoping I could feel past the ass pain and into the orgasm. A minute, maybe one a half. I pulled her fingers away in frustrated agony. With my hand slapped over my asshole I rushed to the bathroom and tried to shit out his sticky mess. I punched the wall.

“Thanks for coming by, Matthew’s whore.”

“You can learn our fucking names asshole?”

“Why?” He laughed. Phoebe came up beside him and cuddled in on his side. He smirked at me and looked warmly down on Phoebe, “So you pick out my next choice?”

“Zina will if you get her a babysitter,” Phoebe shrugged, “Carmen too.”

“Jesus,” I rolled my eyes, “Just watch up and you get to share women with him openly.”

“Not quite,” Phoebe shook his head, “You’d be an idiot to fuck Janine.”

“Fuck her again you mean,” He laughed, “You bitches better not tell him unless he asks.”

“Why would we?” Phoebe seemed confused.

“So my ass never hurts again?” I pouted. He kicked me in the shin, not hard, just for my attention.

“What’s watch up?”

“Put on one of his watches,” I shrugged, “Share women with him.”

“He hasn’t worn a watch since the Motorola Razr,” Craps rolled his eyes.

“He has the one anyway,” I wasn’t getting rid of anything else with more toilet paper. I flushed and stood, “Follow me, you fuckstick,”

“Sure thing, meat,” He slapped my ass. I could see how red I was from the back of my knees to the top of my ass crack. That was going to be sore for days. There was that stainless steel one Deborah had looted off of Everett. That’d do.