The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I missed nearly all of the following day, a Saturday. I remember little of the night before, after Booker left me curled up and leaking his juices in the middle of my living room floor. I don’t know how long I lay there. I don’t know how many times I paced from room to room, double- and triple-checking every door and window to be sure that they were locked. I don’t know how often I nearly called my mother, or how long I stood trembling in the shower, ineffectually scrubbing myself.

I did make one phone call that night, reporting in vivid detail the evening’s events. But I wasn’t allowed to remember that call until very recently.

At some point I finally slept. Morning, afternoon... I only know that it was daytime when I at last sank into a fitful slumber. There was no peace to be found in my dreams.

This went on until 10:32 pm, when a hard rapping on my window jarred me wide awake. It wasn’t an unusual thing to happen; my small handful of friends were frequently beating on my window at odd hours, seeking anything from crash space on my couch to a late-night study partner. Once it was my boyfriend with a nearly empty bottle of wine, desiring yet again to leave tear stains on my shoulder while he angsted away to me about whatever.

The rapping was so normal, so blissfully familiar, that in my waking confusion I was able to forget for a brief moment all the things I’d done the night before. I crawled across the bed, only then becoming aware of the throbbing ache between my thighs, and peeped through the blind.

There stood on my driveway a total stranger, a blond-haired blue-eyed man who looked about my age... which is to say barely old enough to be out of high school. His dress and bearing marked him as something completely different from my art school peers. He wore the tailored suit and cutting edge haircut of a vastly successful young Republican, and his palpable aura of relaxed confidence might first have been coined by Alexander the Great. He was smiling at me, his expression open and friendly.

“Megan! Hi. I’m Nathan... a friend of Booker’s.” These words instantly triggered open a trapdoor under my stomach, letting it fall away into a dark, swirling abyss. “May I come in?”

I knelt there, parts of my brain paralyzed while other parts went bouncing through several conflicting thought fragments. I wanted to recoil, to make this not be happening, to shut the little slit in the blinds and make him disappear. I knew I couldn’t; I clearly remembered explaining to Booker the significance of my mother’s home address. I wanted to wake up from this terrible nightmare. I knew with sick certainty that no such thing would happen.

“I’m not accustomed to waiting, Megan.” He said it quietly enough that the neighbors couldn’t hear, but just barely so. His voice remained as friendly and open as his smile, in chilling contrast to his words. “It would upset me to walk away. But if you don’t let me in, I’ll have to do that. Ready...?”

I knew he meant it. In an instant I saw exactly what would happen if I didn’t act fast to stop him. He would leave, just walk away, and then very soon I would hear from him again. And I would regret it terribly. I could see it all too clearly.

He was already turning to go.

“Wait!” I blurted. He looked back at my window, his smile now openly expectant; I flashed on what it was that he ultimately expected of me, and my cheeks burned with humiliation. “Wait, I’ll come unlock the door...” And I hurried out of my bedroom, instinctively taking my bedsheet with me to hide my nakedness.

He swept through the kitchen door as I opened it, his confidence thrust out ahead of him like an invisible shield, pushing me back to make room for him. He marked the air around him with the faint, clean scent of aftershave. I felt the nudge of a countertop against the small of my back, and realized he’d backed me completely across the room, having paused only to close and deadbolt the door behind him. Standing in my kitchen with the air of a man who owned the place, he studied me with obvious interest. My face became prickly hot beneath his frank stare.

“Let go of the sheet,” he said, his voice as intent as his gaze. His smile was gone, replaced by an expression of calm authority. “Let it drop to the floor.”

It was an impossible order to obey. It was unthinkable not to obey. I whimpered as the sheet puddled around my ankles, leaving me nude in front of him. Slowly his smile returned, and the heat of my blush redoubled in response.

“You’re terrified,” he observed, unable to miss the trembling of my body. “Come here. Right here in front of me... come on. Now turn around...”

I jumped as his arms came around me, drawing me into a gentle hug. I felt a nearly overwhelming urge to resist, to cringe away from the touch of this young man... of any man. But I was able to fight it down, to grudgingly yield to this soft whispering touch of expensive fabric against my flesh, this warm soft squeeze that was his embrace. I could almost imagine taking comfort in the clean, minty breath that tickled its way past my ear. There was a muffled clink, as of something metallic shifting in one of his pockets. Then I felt the hard weight of his erection pressing between my buttocks, and at once my body became rigid again.

“...no,” he whispered. His soft hands alternately squeezed and caressed my shivering arms. “No. You’re doing so good. You understand your situation, or you’d never have let me in the door. You know all the alternatives. So take that extra step now. I want you to relax against me, Megan. Don’t be afraid... just relax. Just surrender to this. Surrender to me.”

I couldn’t.

It was impossible. I had just been violated. No matter how clearly I understood my choices and their potential repercussions, I couldn’t just yield to another stranger’s touch, especially not this stranger, this well-dressed man who’d already made me display my naked body for him in my own kitchen. This friend of Booker’s.

For a fleeting moment I felt the insane wish to experience again those strange and terrible compulsions that had driven me the previous night. I wanted to give up all responsibility, to once again be nothing more than a stunned passenger inside my own body. That other me, that horrible nasty slutty other self, wouldn’t have hesitated to give this man—Nathan—what he wanted. But whatever had driven me the previous night, it was now gone. I was just myself... numbed with shock and paralyzed with fear.

“This isn’t working.” Gripping my shoulders, he gently but firmly turned me to face him again. “Let me help you with this, Megan. It’s quite simple. I want you to make one of three choices right now. First choice... you can tell me to leave. Just like before, when I was outside your window. Yes, there will be a terrible price. Forever afterward you’ll wish you hadn’t made that choice. But at least tonight I’ll be gone.

“Second... if you want to keep me happy, but haven’t yet regained enough strength to surrender to me over an extended period, then I give you the option of letting me tie you up.” Seeing my eyes widen, he chuckled. “Think of it this way. You’ll only have to relent for a few minutes that way. Just long enough to see you bound and at my mercy... which you are anyway. But bound, the moment-to-moment responsibility will be largely off your shoulders. I’ll continue to hold you accountable for any attempts at resistance, yes... but how much will you be able to attempt? So. The risk of truly angering me will be negligible, a quite solemnly assure you.

“Finally, you’ve the choice of willingly giving yourself to me. Total obedience. I may still tie you up at some point tonight. I may do any number of things to you... but you will at least enjoy the benefit of making me extremely happy with you. The only catch is that if you make this choice, then renege, I will leave at once. And I will assuredly be angry with you beyond your ability to endure. Therefore... Megan... I assure you that it’s a bad choice. You’re terrified. At some point you’ll hit a limit that might not be there later, when you’ve had time to truly surrender to your fate. But if you think you can in fact give in now, then by all means. I welcome the attempt.

“Choose now, Megan. Right now.” The smile was gone. He held me once again with the force of his penetrating gaze.

“...tie me up...” Don’t ask me how I managed to say it. As it was, all I could produce was a faint whisper.

“You want that?” His own voice became a purr. “More than any other choice I give you, you want to be tied up?”

“...yes... tie me up.”

“Then turn around. And ask me nicely. Say please.”

It was easy to turn, to avert my gaze entirely from him. His grin was so wide. He was having so much fun with me, with my naked body and beaten mind. “Please... please tie me up?

“Of course, my pet.” I heard again the clink of metal somewhere on his person, this time louder as he drew something from his pocket. I knew what it was, well before he pressed my trembling arms firmly behind my back and locked the cold steel bands about my wrists, pinning them together.

One of his hands gripped my hair from behind, then twisted hard, securing a firm handhold. He drove me down to my knees, then knelt softly behind me and bent me forward a little. There was a wet, sucking sound; I knew it was some of his fingers, or perhaps a thumb, slurping out between his wetted lips. And then, without warning, he drove two hard, wet fingers into me from behind. A brief, sharp cry ripped out of me, and at once my breaths became ragged gasps.

“Tell me five things about your present circumstances, Megan. Five details about what’s happening to you right now.” His fingers moved inside my ass, twisting and thrusting. “Tell me now.”

“I’m... I’m naked!”

“Good. Another one, now!” The demand was punctuated by a series of hard thrusts.

“I’m kneeling! Bending forward!”

“We’ll count that as one more.” Mercifully, the thrusts into my bottom became more gentle. “Continue.”

“...You... you have... your fist in my hair?” It was hard to think beyond those fingers, still penetrating me, still moving inside me. My mind and body both shuddered, paralyzed in the grip of such a terrible sensation. But I had to think, had to search desperately for the details he wanted, or the fingers would start thrusting hard again... and that was beyond endurance.

“Good, good, keep going. Just two more.”

Oh! It was right there! Obvious! “You’ve your fingers... you’re...”

“My fingers are ass-fucking you. Say it that way.” And when I hesitated, they began to ram into me again, eliciting another involuntary yelp.

“Your fingers... your fingers are ass-fucking me! Ah! Ahh! They’re ass-fucking me!”

“Great! Megan, for your progress so far, you get a kiss.” He leaned around me and nuzzled into my freely swinging left breast, his lips finding and locking around the nipple. His teeth and tongue explored the tip, and for a moment my mind went blank. Then the fingers gave another violent thrust, reminding me that I wasn’t finished. And suddenly it was easy.

“I’m handcuffed.” In a rush of further insight, I decided to earn extra brownie points. Because my next words were entirely true, after all. “Helpless. At your total mercy. You’re a complete stranger, and you can do anything you want to me, and my best choice now is to cooperate fully.”

“...oh, good...” His voice had become a whisper now. His tongue, between sentences, drew warm wet circles around the circumference of my swollen nipple. “Megan, that’s wonderful. Are you ready to prove it to yourself? Are you ready to suck this stranger’s cock...?”

I was.