The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alexandra tossed her long brown hair over head as she walked out the door of April’s Rain, one of the many fashionable boutiques that she owned.

With locations all over the world, in some of the most fashionable cities, she had the distinction of being one of the youngest entrepreneurs in her field. Almost but not quite 21, the beautiful young woman had been blessed with progressive parents who had schooled her in many languages and world cultures. Although they were no longer with her, they had blessed her with a keen financial mind. She had taken one small store on Seventh Ave. and turned it into a franchise that nearly rivaled that of Victoria’s Secret and Frederick’s of Hollywood.

After having finished approving the new line of fall fashions, Alexandra was ready to take a well-deserved vacation, but first, she had to discover the source of some constant and somewhat annoying invitations to attend an obscure Middle Eastern club in Astoria, Queens.

As a student of Middle Eastern dance herself, Alexandra appreciated the exotic art of belly dancing, but had no desire to dance in public. Several invitations to attend the club had been sent to her office, and had been left in the mailbox of her fashionable townhouse in the West Village.

Determined to put an end to what she considered harassment, she had her limo drive her over the 59th.st. Bridge so that she could put an end to this annoyance before heading overseas to visit her German girlfriend Margot in Italy.

The club was small from the outside, but the inside was quite palatial. She was impressed with the decor, and recognized it as having been designed by someone who had a good sense of taste.

“Excuse me,” she asked one of the waiters, “but could you please get the owner for me?”

She pointed to the invitation that she held in her hand, and the waiter grinned, as if he knew a secret that she did not. “Ah, yes, please follow me,” he said, taking her to the back of the club.

She followed the grinning waiter past the stage, where a beautiful long haired blonde was dancing to the enthusiastic approval of the crowd.

He took her to an empty room save for a large plush chair and a TV. “Please wait here in the guest room while I go fetch the Mistress,” he said. “Of course, you may relax and watch television. I am sure you will find the programs to be....extremely interesting.”

He bowed and scurried away, leaving the confused Alexandra to wonder what on earth was going on. Still, he did say that he was going to get the Mistress, most likely meaning owner, so she could talk to her about the incessant invitations, and that was what was important.

She noticed a chilled bottle of Deutsh Reisling, one of her favorite wines, in a carafe next to the chair, so she helped herself to a healthy glass while waiting.

The steady drone of the sitars emanated from the walls of the room, as she sipped and waited.

Suddenly the TV clicked on, and she could see that it was broadcasting images from the stage, as if it was on closed circuit.

Alexandra smiled approvingly as she watched the fetching blonde dance. “What a body, like an aerobics instructor,” she mused, sipping again.

The Reisling was very good, and she helped herself to another glass, watching with curiosity as a strange cloud of pink smoke began to swarm across the stage.

Alexandra shifted in her chair a little. She was beginning to feel warm, and her dress was beginning to itch her nipples. She idly wondered when the club owner would come to her.

Now there was another dancer, whose costume glittered and twinkled in the light, sharp reflections shining off the sequins in her very revealing outfit.

Alexandra’s eyes widened, the lights from the screen reflecting off her eyes, which began to blink in rapid succession. She fidgeted more, her dress feeling very uncomfortable.

As she shifted, she accidentally spilt some wine on the front of her dress, but took little notice of it, and no notice that the glass had now fallen from her hand and rolled to the floor.

On the pretext of rubbing out the wine from the fabric, her hands began to trace lazy circles around her breasts, the nipples protruding through the sheer fabric of her shift. Unconsciously, she pulled down the straps, and sighed with pleasure as the air cooled her breasts, which no longer felt as hot now that the dress was off her shoulders.

Her eyes widened as they stared at the screen, which now seemed to be filled with a haze of pink smoke and twinkling lights.

Now her bra was off the shoulders as well, her small but tidy bosom shiny with sweat and stained from wine.

She shook her head, vainly trying to fight off the sluggishness that was seeping into her body. She leaned forward drunkenly, and her head lolled forward, her body crumpling to the floor.

Her mind reeled as a wave of pleasure washed over her. " Uhhhhh....what’s....happening......” she murmured.

Her eyes were blurry, but she thought that she could make dimly make out the appearance of four boots.

A strong set of hands pulled her to her feet, and she was fireman lifted over somebody’s shoulders, only to have her hands cuffed over head, her manacled wrists hanging from a hook so that her lithe body dangled just above the floor.

Two beautiful policewomen smiled wickedly at her, their eyes shining with triumph and excitement. One of them, a buxom Puerto Rican, swiftly pulled Alexandra’s dress to the floor, while simultaneously pulling down her panties.

Naked save for her shoes, the other policewoman, a slim and sexy blonde began to pinch Alexandra’s nipples.

“ Oh, who, ow, who are...who are you...ooo!” she exclaimed, her fuzzy mind desperately attempting to focus on the erotic events that were now transpiring.

“ Officers Gail Noonberry and Lydia Velasquez, at you’re service,” replied the blonde.

Then, after a pause, she added, “Or should I say, you are at our service,” then pinched Alexandra’s nipples again.

Alexandra cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, then gasped as she felt Lydia’s hand on her ass, slapping her in a sudden and stinging fury.

“Before our Masters left, they saw you at a benefit dinner, and decided that you would make a splendid addition to our club. You see, we are thinking of overseas expansion as well,” Gail continued, now scratching and teasing Alexandra’s breasts, whose nipples were like two erect thimbles.

Alexandra gritted her teeth and blushed. She was submissive by nature, and this assault upon her body and senses was both frightening and exhilarating. She was rapidly losing the fight not to be turned on.

Now Lydia’s voice was burning in her ear. “Our instructions were to soften you up before your journey. Tell me, have you met my friend....Billy?”

Alexandra’s eyes widened as she felt something cool and wooden rub against her swollen clit, then realized with horrid amazement that it was Lydia’s Billy club.

Her pussy lips were puffy, the quim running down her legs as Lydia teased her with prods and pokes.

Gail was sinking to her knees now, her tongue painting a path of delight down the front of Alexandra’s chest to her southern regions.

“AHHHH!” Alexandra cried, as Gail’s mouth found her clit while Lydia rogered her with the club, slowly pushing it up inside her. “Unnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhh..........unnnnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhh.......unnnnnnnhhhhhhhh,” she groaned, her body twisting and turning, her teeth clenched, her heart pounding, her body hot and wet, a victim of Sapphic seduction.

Lydia was moving faster now, plunging Billy deep inside her, then out, then in again, and out, in and out and in and out and in and out.

Gail’s tongue flicked against her clit, the blonde winking at her, then suddenly grabbing Alexandra’ ass and pulling it into her face.

“Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Alexandra screamed as she came, her body suddenly collapsing.

Lydia swiftly uncuffed her, then threw her over her shoulders yet again, carrying the dazed young woman to the back of the room.

Gail briskly opened a silk-lined glass coffin, and the two cops laid Alexandra into it, shutting the glass top down.

Alexandra opened her mouth to scream, but suddenly a hot pink cloud pumped into the coffin from air vents on the side. She tried to hold her breath, but noticed that the gas penetrated her skin. She wanted to resist, but her body felt extremely comfortable, extremely relaxed, and the silk wrapped around her felt like her favorite pair of PJ’s.

With a sigh, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she drifted off to sleep, a contented smile on her face.

The two cops wheeled the coffin to the back alley, where an unmarked truck waited. They wheeled the coffin on board, and closed the door behind them.

“ Kennedy Airport,” Gail said, and the driver nodded.

The truck took off into the night.