The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What happened next grew out of that night. Maybe things would have gone differently if I had thought them through. I don’t know. I’d written a check for a lot of money, and now I needed more.

I arrived at the Illusions hotel from the cab, paid cash and walked inside. I had a little over $5000 in my pocket in a cashiers check from emptying out my savings account that morning. I’d flown in to Vegas on a lark, having decided that it was basically impossible to stop a telepath from winning at poker. So, I decided, if I’m gonna go ‘play’ poker, it should be in Vegas. I’d left a note on my fridge for Martin when I headed out.

The moment I stepped out of the cab I could sense that there were telepaths somewhere near the strip. When I walked into the casino, I knew that there was one nearby. Female, not too powerful. I knew she hadn’t detected me, and probably wasn’t powerful enough to find me if I didn’t want to be found. I was feeling pretty powerful, pretty self confident from the night before, so I decided to see how things worked here.

I worked my way slowly up to where she was sitting. She was firmly ensconced in a booth with a good view of the gaming floor. In front of her was an ashtray and a large glass of water. On either side of her were two really big, really buff guys who had been mind-controlled into drones. Looked like her harem. She was something like 50, ugly and a little dumpy dressed in expensive clothes. The rings on her fingers had to total more than ten carats of good looking diamonds.

I heard her talking under her breath. “Table seven, counting cards. He’s no good at it, ignore him.”

I grabbed a drink from a passing cocktail waitress with some really pretty tits up on display in her small uniform and dropped a ten dollar bill on her tray. No need to horde my cash I thought, I planned on having more soon.

“Slot number 212. Using a magnet. Watch her.” The guy on her left got up and walked away into the rows of slots. I scanned the rest of the casino as I watched her operate. She was the only one monitoring at the moment, so I felt safe enough to go play some poker.

I walked to the cashier, got $5000 in chips and headed to the $500 table. Quite by accident, someone at that table just decided to drop out of the game and a space for me opened up. Also, just by coincidence, the guy who had been waiting to sit down decided he’d wait at another table instead. I put my chips on the table and smiled at the dealer.

“$50 ante.”

I tossed in and got my cards. I checked in with the old broad watching the action and went to work.

I won a few hands, and purposely lost a few. I played and waited. After a couple of hours, I was up another five thousand. About that time, Yoshi Motori came into the casino. He was an extremely wealthy Japanese businessman with a taste for high-stakes poker. He was escorted past a red velvet rope and a closed curtain into the high-stakes game. I wanted into that game.

An hour later, I was up another $6000. I had almost $17,000 in chips in front of me and I had run four people off the table close to broke. Just by chance though, there was always someone looking to play poker at my table. I yawned and stretched. It was close to 7PM. I had been checking in with the telepath monitoring the room from time to time. She never found anything suspicious about my play to investigate. Interesting, that.

The next time the pit boss came by, he leaned in and said to me.

“Excuse me Sir, I’m the floor manager for this section of the casino. My name is Francis Ruby. I’d like to welcome you to the Illusions Hotel. We appreciate your business.”

“Thanks very much. My name is Colfax Popingham, I’m enjoying myself very much. You have a lovely place here.”

“Mr. Popingham, it would be the pleasure of the Illusions if you would accept our hospitality for the evening. We have a suite set aside for you if you would be so kind as to stay with us. The room and everything in it are at your convenience.”

“How wonderful, my thanks. Of course I’ll accept. There is one thing though.”

“Yes Sir?”

“I’d very much like an invitation to the high stakes table.”

“The casino requires a minimum stake of $25,000 per player, Mr. Popingham, I’m afraid that you don’t ... oh, excuse me, my apologies. Of course you meet the minimum table requirements. I’ll just go see how long the wait will be for a seat.”

He was back in just a minute.

“There are three people waiting for a seat at the table, sir. Would you care to join them? If we have another high roller like yourself come in, we can open a second table.”

I was escorted behind the red ropes. It felt really good to be on the inside of something for once. In the private playing area of the movies, the women are beautiful and beautifully dressed, and the men wear tuxedos. Here, a couple guys were in suits, a couple were in jeans, and the one woman playing looked like the retired Dry-Cleaning Queen of Indianapolis. That’s because she was.

As I waited, I pushed people slowly out of the game until both Mr. Motori and I had seats. I sat down near nine PM. For some reason, no one at the table noticed that my chips were light for the game. As I sat down, I checked in with the casino telepath. She had been rotated out, and another not-so-swift telepath had taken her place. The mindless stud-muffins had been replaced with a pair of artistic, bohemian gay men who were also tampered with.

“Ante is $500.”

I tossed in and got to work. You can’t bluff a telepath. I don’t need a ‘tell’ to know what you’re going to do. I didn’t have to count cards or even out-psych my opponents. Basically it was an exercise in patience and not making a scene. It was a long, methodical bloodbath. No one got up from the table as I played. Each became somewhat unprofessionally obsessed with taking me to the ... um, cleaners.

“Another $50,000 please.” Said Motori, handing in a check.

“Another $25,000.” Said the dry cleaning queen.

“Gimme twenty grand more.” Said the venture capitalist.

“Whew. Draw $45,000 on my account.” Said the embezzler.

At midnight I pushed away from the table with over $150,000 in front of me. I got a check and went to the Sand-Dune Casino. Their telepath was also not ready for prime-time, and I walked out of there with another $200,000.

I played for fifteen hours at four other casinos before I returned to the Illusions. When I checked into my room, it was a huge suite done up to the hilt in high Las Vegas excess. The bathtub had a waterfall. The bed was round and heated. There was a huge sunken, greenhouse style balcony that looked onto the restaurant terrace nearby and out over the strip.

When I called for room service an incredibly beautiful ‘room service’ hostess brought up my meal. She was an ex-cop for the city of Las Vegas, and she was there to look for anything the hotel could find out about me. She was a spy. That kind of pissed me off. What was weird is that it also made me horny.

“Hi, my name is Talia and I’m here, Mr. Popingham, to make sure that you’re being well taken care of by the hotel, and that you enjoy your stay. May I set out your meal?”

“Of course, Natalie.”

She paused as she laid out my food. “I don’t really answer to Natalie, how did you know that was my name?”

“You look like a Natalie. A very, very sexy little Natalie.”

She at least had the courtesy to blush.

I walked over to the balcony curtains and opened them all. It was about Five PM in Las Vegas in Mid-Summer... it was bright daylight out and the hotel’s dining terrace was beginning to fill up with early diners. In Vegas, the early diners are mostly older. Lots of gray haired women come to play some keno and live a little. Lots of couples in retirement from places like Madison, Wisconsin. Good plain folks. They had a great view of me and the balcony. One nice looking older lady even waved at me. I waved back and blew a kiss. She laughed and turned to her companion to tell her about it. She wondered if I was a celebrity.

“You know Natalie, I think I’d prefer to have my meal out here on the balcony, the view is really excellent. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not, sir. The view is extraordinary, isn’t it?” She frowned at my use of her name as she took the place setting and headed for the table on the balcony. It was a gorgeous glass topped table with pretty brass legs.

“How tall are you Natalie? Five ten?”

“Five nine, sir.”

“You’re extremely beautiful, have you ever been a show girl?”

“Oh, no I haven’t ... but thank you.”

“Those are some pretty tits on you, are they real or did you buy them? What are they, D cup?”

She paused at my intentional crassness and forced a smile.

She said. “Oh, I do try to look my best”

Then she got a funny look on her face and said. “They’re D cups and I’m really proud of them and they’re real and I love it when my girlfriend squeeze and licks them.” Then she blushed and said. “I have no idea why I said that, please excuse me.”

“I bet it makes you hot to tell the truth that way. So, you’re a lesbian?”

She was red faced and not wanting to be in this conversation, but a light sheen was forming on her pretty face.

“No, I’m .. I guess I’m bisexual, I mostly don’t like to lick pussy though, I let her do that to me.” She threw her hands up over her mouth and stared at me. One hand crept toward her crotch but didn’t make it. She started backing towards the door. She turned to go and stopped.

“Oh my god” She said. “There’s no door out of this room. How can that be?”

I looked at the door and at her. I walked over and opened the door for her, showed it to her, and then closed it. I looked at her again. She walked to where she had seen the door be. She could not find it.

“It’s arousing to be so helpless, isn’t it, Natalie?” A tiny moan escaped her lips.

I walked back to the balcony and sat down.

“Uh, listen Mr. .. uh Popingham, I think maybe I’ve like had a stroke or something. I can’t find the door. I think something’s wrong with me.” She moaned again.

“Please don’t worry about that, Natalie. It’s not like you’re trapped here with me, alone, unable to think of a way out, helpless and confused, ever more aroused by your situation.” She put her hand up to her face and looked away. Her breathing was slightly elevated.

“Please help me”

“Yes, of course Natalie. Of course. But first, my supper is waiting... you really don’t want me to have a bad impression of the hotel and it’s staff, do you?”

“Oh, of course not sir!”

“Well, please serve me my meal.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Where will you change, girl?”

“Change, sir?”

“Well, look at what you’re wearing. You’re filthy, aren’t you, Natalie?”

She looked down at her spotless room service uniform and gasped. “Oh no sir, I had no idea I was this filthy, of course I can’t serve you like this!”

“How can you even stand to have those filthy, filthy things against your skin?”

She shrieked and began tearing her clothes off as quickly as she could. She got as far as getting her vest off.

“What are you doing, girl? You can’t put those disgusting things on my floor, can you?”

She picked the discarded vest up and held it at arms length. She looked around wildly for what to do with it, and shuddered to be wearing those clothes.

“Isn’t it totally hot to be so helpless around me? Whatever will you do with those disgusting things?”

She stood still and moaned slightly.. sweat formed on her upper lip.

“Maybe you should run to the bathroom, strip those things off and put them in the tub. You’ll probably have to get them good and soaked to get that filth loose. You might want to run the shower on them while you help me with my supper.”

She ran to the bathroom, holding her vest at arms length and looking disgusted with herself. I heard the sound of water running. I sat at the table and looked out at the view for a minute. She came back, naked, wet and panting.

“I tried to rinse off quickly sir, I want to be presentable.”

Naked, she was a near goddess. She had lovely, creamy pale skin, a firm and smooth ass, beautiful round breasts that sat up high and proud on her chest. Her tummy was lovely and womanly with a tiny bulge to it. Her nipples were hard and pointed. Her golden hair was now a wet dish-water color. She had a nicely trimmed bush, and there was the tiny gleam of a ring from her pussy.

“Great, much better! Alright then, serve me my dinner please.”

She walked out onto the balcony, took one look at the view and ran back a couple of steps.

“Mr. Popingham! People can see me!”

“Yes, I suppose they can. How embarrassing. You must feel so helpless.” At the word ‘helpless’, she gasped. “However, I really am entitled to receive decent service here at the hotel, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are sir.” She said it quietly. She stepped out onto the balcony. Her entire chest flushed red as she began to serve me my food. As I ate, I watched her get more and more aroused.

“Oh dear.” I said. “It looks like people have noticed you.” I pointed out the elderly man standing at the restaurant window with his friend, pointing and talking. They gave me a thumbs-up gesture. Behind them, a pair of ladies pointedly ignored the situation.

“Quick! Duck under the table. There’s no way that they could see you through that glass table top.”

She got down on her knees and crawled under the table.

So, here I was, in Las Vegas, sitting on close to $900,000 in cashiers checks, having a great dinner in a free suite with a naked and beautiful girl under the table. Life seemed pretty grand. Only one thing was missing.

I could hear her breathing heavily, and I could smell the scent of her arousal. I watched her try not to stare at my crotch. She was failing.

“You know Natalie, I’ve heard that some times these big Vegas hotels send a hooker or two up to the high roller rooms.”

“It happens some times, yes sir. Would you like me to get you one? I know who to call.”

“Well, lets take stock of our situation here. You’re naked under my table, right?”

“Oh god. Yes”

“And you’re really aroused right now, wet in fact, right?”

“Oh.”

“And you’re not serving me my meal at this moment... So, maybe someone DID send a hooker up to my room. Maybe you’re my personal slut, Natalie.”

“No, oh god... God! Maybe they did!” She shrieked again. “I’m not a hooker, not a prostitute, dammit! How could they make this mistake! Oh no.”

“You can’t call down for a replacement, Natalie, you’re helpless, trapped under this table.”

I could see her slide her hand to her cunt.

“And you don’t want to disappoint me, that would be bad for the hotel’s business. How trapped you must feel.”

“What can I do?”

“Natalie, you’re just going to have to provide excellent service on your own.”

She began crying. Then she reached out and unzipped my pants. She crawled forward. She reached in and brought out my hard, straining cock. She leaned forward slowly. I felt a hot tear land on my cock. She grimaced and slid the tip of my cock into her mouth and began to slowly suck on it.

“I’ma rully not this wey, thir.” She said with my dick in her mouth. “I’ma sekurty emphloyye”

“Yes, little slut, good girl. Tell me all about it.” I slid my dick deeper into her mouth. She choked a little and gasped. I looked over my shoulder and ate some steak as I watched the two old guys wave and shout from the restaurant. I smiled and gave them a thumbs up.

Beautiful. Ex-Cop. Second degree black belt. I could use a girl like her. Besides, the hotel did comp the room... and everything in it.