The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A week later, I’d convinced myself the entire affair had been just an aberration. For reasons unknown, some fucked-up couple had played me. They’d slipped me one of those date-rape drugs I’d worried about since Olivia started sprouting boobs, and then taken advantage of me while I’d been under the influence. Luckily, the only lasting result seemed to be a lingering sense of shame. Jose had been more than understanding when I’d told him I wasn’t up for sex the last few nights.

We were a good-looking couple, in our late thirties, but still handsome (or hot, he told me often). We’d had a healthy sex life up until a week ago, but I just couldn’t get into it again. Maybe it was guilt. Jose had a fine cock, large enough I’d been scared the first time I’d seen it, and the rest of him was pretty damn good, too.

Jose always told me I could be a pin-up, and I’d worked hard to keep the sag and cellulite at bay. My critical eye told me I hadn’t been totally successful, but I wasn’t twenty anymore—and Jose’s erection was always there to remind me what he thought. But for the first time in our marriage, it left me dry and uninterested. I didn’t know how to explain it to him, and I was thinking about therapy, but I couldn’t imagine talking to somebody else about it, either.

So there I was, grocery shopping at 2 AM after another not-quite-argument and a bout of insomnia. The good news was the parking was easy and the store was quiet. The bad news was the aisles were cluttered with pallets, and it was the hour when all the freaks went shopping. I was wearing sweats and a tee-shirt, with my hair pulled into a ponytail and feet in flip-flops, and I was by far the most ordinary person I’d seen in my 15 minutes in the store.

My sense of normalcy shattered in the cereal aisle. One minute I was standing on my toes, trying to reach a box of granola on the top shelf; the next, it was crushed heedlessly in my hand while my nostrils twitched at the hint of a tantalizingly familiar aroma.

I felt like a bitch in heat as I raced around the corner to the next aisle, my cart, purse and flip-flops left forgotten behind me. It was that cologne again, and it had me creaming my undies in anticipation and desire before I squeezed around the pallet of detergent.

The middle-aged man standing there wasn’t somebody I’d ever seen before. He had a good belly going, and had lost a lot of his hair, but I didn’t care about any of that. We stared at each other for a moment in surprised silence, and I realized he was staring at my nipples which, unencumbered by any bra, were poking against my shirt.

“I’m Andy,” he offered hesitantly, as if we were meeting at some fucking cocktail party.

His growing erection moved slightly within the confines of his sweatpants, and I couldn’t just stand there any longer. “Fuck me, Andy!” I screamed, just before I sank to my knees and stripped his clothing down his legs so I could worship his delicious cock.

The tang of his sweat, a hint of piss, and of course the cologne mingled to form a heady ambrosia that had me slobbering on Andy’s erection and wiping him on my face, making him harder and teasing me with the first sweet drops of precum.

Hands forced me off his cock. Not again! “I thought you were going to fuck me,” Andy said when I looked up at him.

The tile floor was hard, but I was past caring. I hurriedly pulled off my sweats and panties, ignoring the dark damp spot in the pale blue cotton. Andy didn’t, but his attention returned to me when I lay back on the tile and spread my legs for him. He awkwardly knelt between my thighs, feet tangled in his clothing, and all I could think about was that if he fell and conked himself on the head, I might not get to fuck him.

His cock, about half the size of Jose’s, felt like a baseball bat going into me. I squirmed with excitement, urging him on, and finally Andy got the message. I bit my tongue to stifle a scream as his pile-driver thrusts brought me off and worked the discharge leaking from my slit into froth. Andy apparently didn’t know what to do with a tit, so I fondled myself, abusing my nipples, while my universe shrank to the tube of flesh and blood churning inside me.

Thank God he got off and unloaded his scalding load of man juice inside me before the stock clerk showed up. I was still floating on orgasmic cloud nine when the remains of Andy’s erection suddenly wilted and pulled free of me.

“I can’t believe it,” drawled the scrawny man—barely into adulthood— who stood staring at us. “Fucking in the grocery store? What a fucking slut!”

Andy went beet red and started struggling with his clothing, but the clerk had eyes only for me as I lay there, shirt pushed up to my armpits, leaking from my inflamed cunt. I admit I was staring at his burgeoning erection. “D-don’t tell anybody, please!” Andy pleaded.

“Make it worth my while,” the clerk countered, but he was talking to me.

I nodded eagerly and climbed to my knees while he unzipped. I tongued his glans, watching his dick jerk, but he grabbed my ponytail and pulled me onto him, nearly making me gag as he brushed the back of my throat.

“Scram,” he told Andy. Disappearing footsteps told me my erstwhile lover had wasted no time in complying.

Just like the day in the parking lot, my head suddenly went clear. This time, however, I still had a mouthful of cock. I wanted to throw up, and not just from a gag reflex, at the thought of what I’d done and what I was still doing.

I didn’t much of a choice at the moment, however, as the fist in my hair held me in place while the clerk masturbated himself using my passive mouth. It gave me time to think about how Jose would react to this. What would the kids, or my friends, think? I couldn’t do it, not to any of them —silence was my only option.

It was sickening, but I did as ordered and swallowed it all when he came, blinking back tears of shame and humiliation. That wasn’t the end of my ordeal, either. The clerk kept my panties, daring me to say anything. After I’d dressed and reclaimed my purse and flip-flops, he escorted me to the security office.

The price of the security guard’s willingness to erase the video recording of my depravity was another blowjob. The two of them discussed my body and morals in highly offensive and degrading terms like I wasn’t even there. Finally I managed to choke down another revolting load of semen before I could escape to the parking lot.

I did throw up then, heaving slimy white residue onto the asphalt beside the car, and wishing I could just die. That would have been too easy. I had to drive twenty minutes down the road to the next 24-hour grocery and redo my shopping, jumping like a gun-shy deer every time I saw or heard somebody within ten yards.

A quick douche had gotten rid of the remaining traces of Andy’s presence, and thank God I was on contraceptives, but lying down beside Jose that night was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

I was withdrawn the next several days, and told everybody I was just struggling to fight off a bug or something. Jose and Alex, with typical masculine insensitivity, were willing to let things slide until I was ready to say something. Olivia was not so passive, and I couldn’t get out of driving her to her game at the end of the week. She could have just driven herself, but that wasn’t the way we did things.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Mom?” she asked again, studying me from the passenger seat.

“Sure, Honey; I’m just a little tired,” I tried to reassure her. I forced a quick smile before returning my attention to the traffic. At 18, Olivia had inherited the better parts of both sides of the family and was the apple of her father’s eye. Just as important to me, she was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Alex, a year her junior, was the grandson Jose’s parents had really wanted, but Olivia was our treasure.

I’d given up any thought of a career to be with Jose and raise a family, and hadn’t regretted it for an instant, but Olivia had it in her to be her own woman and take the world by storm.

The last thing I could countenance was not living up to her idealized expectations of her parents—even if it made me a hypocrite. Jose and I worried about the things kids were doing these days, and maybe it was a little sexist, but we worried more about Olivia than Alex. How could I expect her to take any of our warnings and advice seriously if she knew I’d impulsively fucked other men, not just once, but twice? I didn’t even want to think about the blowjobs.

It was another warm day, but I’d worn jeans. Somehow the denim provided psychological protection, and the fit—although comfortable—wasn’t particularly flattering. I didn’t want anybody attracted to me.

The home team wasn’t very organized, and people were still milling around when we arrived. I stood on the edges of the crowd of girls, unwilling to sit in the bleachers with the rest of the parents. I didn’t see the woman with the pills, or the man from the van, but there was no reason to take chances.

“Hey! Lady!” I realized one of the coaches was talking to me. “We’re a little behind, here. Can you go down to the fieldhouse and bring back a few balls?” He pointed to a shed off to the side of the field, just beyond a baseball diamond.

I nodded, glad to have something to do. “Sure! Back in a minute.” I walked across the grass, surrounded by peace and quiet, and was glad I’d decided not to hide at home. The door to the fieldhouse—shed, whatever—was unlocked, and I peered in at the jumbled debris of assorted athletic equipment. A waist-high cage ahead of me held a dozen or more soccer balls.

A footfall sounded behind me just before the scent of the cologne reached my nostrils, fanning banked flames of lust. “Don’t turn around!” a masculine voice whispered, and I whimpered as a large hand touched my butt. I pushed back against it, cursing myself for wearing such heavy clothing.

The shadow falling across the equipment beside me told me nothing except my companion was tall and well-proportioned. “I hear you like to get fucked,” he whispered, and the sound of a zipper being drawn was unmistakable. “Do you?”

“Oh, God, yes!” I moaned. All misgivings once again overwhelmed by carnal need, I hurried to unfasten the jeans and push them down my legs.

“Stop!” he ordered when I would have pulled down my underwear, too. “Stay!” The hand returned, stroked my butt and then reached between my thighs to cup my sodden mound. He chuckled and pulled the thin fabric into my dripping slit, which responded with another rush of moisture.

I heard a “snick” and then a slight tugging as he cut the panties away from my body. I sighed at the touch of the air on my molten lips, and the cologne swirled around me again, building my need. I couldn’t help moaning aloud.

“Little dripping slut,” my tormentor laughed, but I forgave him when I felt the tip of his organ enter me. I braced myself on the top of the cage and let him fill me up. He felt like he was hung like a horse, although I remembered Andy had felt that way, too. “Sssssh!” he reminded me when I forgot myself and started moaning in ecstasy as he began drilling me more aggressively.

His rigid organ was our only point of contact; absent its very noticeable presence, I could have been there in the shed alone. I knew I wasn’t, however, and moaned again in anticipation of the load I hoped to receive shortly.

My moan turned to a little cry of dismay as his wonderful tool abruptly pulled out of me. I jumped and shrieked as he slapped my ass, hard. ”Don’t turn around!” He snarled, freezing me in the act of doing just that. “Slut!” He landed a slap on my other cheek. “Can’t you follow orders? Do you think you deserve my cock?”

His hand started falling regularly, but I was still dripping with frustrated desire for the cock I knew was right there behind me. “Oh, please!” I begged him. “Spank me if you want, but just give it to me! Fuck me! I promise I won’t move again, or say anything!”

The spanking continued. “You promise? You can’t have this here Johnson otherwise.”

“Mom? Are you there?” We both heard Olivia’s voice in the distance.

“I promise!” I gasped, on fire. The thought I might be cheated out of this cock, deprived of its creamy contents, drove all other considerations from my mind.

He thrust into me again, but this time he aimed higher. I’d had things in my ass before, like fingers or vibrators, but if he’d felt like a horse before, now it was an elephant distending my bowels and pushing me forward against the cage. I bit my lip against the gasp and ignored the pain, delighting in the knowledge that I’d landed my cock.

I began shaking, barely able to stand, as I came like the slut I was at the thought my daughter might find me here, being sodomized by some anonymous man. I wanted to scream my exaltation to the skies as I felt him pumping wads of his seed inside me, but I held to my end of our perverse bargain.

He was gone as quickly and silently as he’d arrived, and blood began pounding in my ears in time with the tread of lighter footsteps outside.

“Hey, Mom?” I barely had time to yank up my jeans before Olivia was standing in the doorway. “Are you okay? I thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”

“I’m such a dummy,” I choked out. “I caught my shirt on this wire and it took until now for me to work it free without tearing anything.” I fastened the button on my jeans. “Here, take a few balls and I’ll be right behind you with a couple more, okay?”

Unfortunately, she refused to budge. “They can wait another minute; we’ll walk back together.” There was nothing for it but to collect a few balls for myself and join her.

Olivia must have been watching me pretty closely, because we hadn’t taken more than few steps back into the sunshine when she exclaimed, “Mom! Your fly is unfastened!”

“Oh my God, how embarrassing!” I told her, and then zipped them up as quickly as I could. “I must have been walking around like that all day! What will people think?”

“Don’t worry, I doubt they even noticed!” she laughed. “Just don’t go flashing people, okay?”

“Olivia!” I said, weakly. I knew she expected the protest, but what could I say when I’d done so much more than just expose myself? My tender ass stung where the rough material of the jeans rubbed against my tanned cheeks, but in a way it felt like I’d deserved the spanking. I was just glad Olivia hadn’t noticed the raw marks across both palms from where I’d been holding the cage.

I spent the entire game furtively studying the men along the sidelines, wondering if one of them had been with me in the shed, but I saw no smoking guns, dripping cocks, or other clues. If anyone wondered why I spent the entire time standing by myself, they didn’t ask.

Sitting down, when it came time to climb back into the car, was as interesting as I’d feared. It wasn’t as bad as the question that arrived halfway home.

“Mom, do you smell something?”

There was a moment of commingled panic and excitement before I realized she didn’t mean the cologne. I could feel the heat coming from my face when I realized Olivia had noticed the distinctive smell of the semen leaking from my back door into my jeans.

“Um, no,” I stammered.

“Mom!” she laughed. “I know I didn’t result from Immaculate Conception!”

My blush deepened and I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m just glad you and Dad are past whatever happened,” Olivia told me. I didn’t make any attempt to correct her misconception.

The guilt persisted, but part of me just gave up after that day. I started wearing short skirts and cheap panties that I didn’t mind losing or destroying. It wasn’t that I was flaunting myself, or even wanted to, but it was just so much more convenient and easier to deal with whenever I suddenly lost control and had wild passionate sex with another stranger.

I knew what I was, but never said the word until the first card arrived. It came in a small embossed envelope, like you found at expensive stationary stores, addressed to me. The card inside, infused with the cologne I’d learned both to love and hate, had only an address, room number, and time. I knew I’d go; I might not know my pimp’s name, but I was a whore.

They came regularly, sometimes with a gap of a few days, and sometimes several on the same day. They never had return addresses, and I was always the one who picked up the mail, so nobody ever asked questions about them. I was petrified somebody would find them, but I couldn’t get rid of them. Preserved carefully in a Ziploc bag, a dozen or so fairly fresh cards carried enough scent that I could infuse one of Jose’s undershirts and find release in his arms at least once in a while. It was the only thing that kept our sex life on life support.

I searched fruitlessly in every store I could think of, sniffing men’s’ fragrances until I wanted to weep, but never found the scent that curled my toes in near-orgasm every time I encountered it.

Every time I thought I’d come to terms with my degrading existence, something happened to shatter what remained of my confidence. A hot mid-summer’s evening nearly finished me.

A few of Jose’s buddies from work came over to watch a baseball game on TV. They got together fairly regularly, usually rotating houses, drank a few beers, and talked between pitches about how much better the teams on the screen would be if they were managing them. It was all harmless inexpensive fun, at least if you liked baseball.

The night started normally enough. Alex had departed to go watch some 3D schlockfest with his friends at the local cineplex, Olivia was waiting to depart for some date from which, she’d confidently assured me, she’d return before 10, and Jose already was camped in front of the television set. I was fixing some snacks in the kitchen when I heard Olivia let the guys in.

“Hi, Mr. Campbell. Hi, Mr. Mendez. Go on in; Dad’s in the family room.”

“Hey, Olivia, you’re looking hot. Big date?”

I smiled to myself. The compliment was genuine, but delivered in a tone that told me Gary knew Jose was within earshot and would rend him limb from limb if he even looked crosswise at her.

She laughed. “Just a normal date. I guess I can’t help the way I look— blame Mom and Dad!” A moment later, she called out to me, “He’s here! Gotta run, loveyoubye!” and Olivia was out the door.

The indulgent smile was still on my face when Gary and Juan stepped into the kitchen to grab a pair of beers on their way to the family room. “Hey guys, help yourselves! I’ll have this right out!” I didn’t know what they ate elsewhere, but I always made veggie trays when Jose stayed home— they were better than nachos or other fat-laden crap.

Juan smiled a greeting and quickly was gone, but I didn’t see him leave because I was trying to set down the knife without cutting off a finger.

“Hey, Tanya, do you like this new scent?” Gary asked as he walked around the island.

I was panting with fear and lust, already juiced up and ready for action. It wasn’t the thought of the sex; I knew I’d enjoy every second of it while it lasted. It wasn’t even the thought of fucking somebody I knew; after over a hundred encounters, including our mailman, there were bound to be a few repeats. What I despised about myself was the thought that I was so eager to cheat on my husband, beneath our roof, right under his nose. At least it seemed that Olivia was immune to his scent, thank God.

“Bastard,” the detached part of me thought, and wanted to slap the knowing leer off his face. The rest of me settled for a kiss instead, guiding one hand to a needy nipple while I probed deep inside his mouth with my tongue and sucked all the saliva I could get. His cologne enveloped me, filling my vision with images of pounding cocks churning inside dripping rose-hued cunts. My cunt, actually.

“I guess I’ll go hang with Jose and Juan for a bit, okay?” he told me a minute later. Gary’s amusement at the way I was practically humping his leg was clear.

My breasts heaved as I panted with frustrated desire. I just had to have his cock inside me, and he was walking away from me?! My coldly furious other self returned from her cage as the air conditioning sucked away the vestiges of that damned cologne and I regained my senses.

I stared at the vegetable tray on the countertop and then the doorway to the family room. If I walked into that room, I knew I’d lose my free will and self-control to that scent again. If I didn’t go in soon, Jose would wonder what was happening and I’d have to make up some story.

I knew I’d hit rock bottom when I wiped away my tears and picked up the tray. Maybe I could avoid Gary if I tried, but I’d just be fucking some other guy the next day, anyway. If I was going to be a slut, I might as well stop agonizing over it and enjoy the ride.

When I walked into the room, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Jose; a moment later, I couldn’t force myself to look anywhere except Gary’s crotch. “Doing okay, Hon?” I asked it, ignoring the fuzzy reply from Jose’s direction. I wanted to drop to my knees on the carpeting, free Gary’s meat from its confinement, and worship it the way it deserved, but I dimly sensed that wouldn’t get me what I craved.

With a level of indirection I was barely capable of maintaining, I put the vegetable tray on the corner of the ottoman and backed away. Just the slightest nudge of my hip sent Gary’s beer toppling from the coaster atop the armrest into his lap.

“Oh, God, Gary! I’m so sorry!” I gasped, swooning under the wave of cologne. I batted ineffectually at the large damp spot on his pants, managing only to stroke his erection once or twice and nearly lose control in the face of my mounting excitement.

Jose laughed, “Geez, Tanya, what a waste of a good beer!” He couldn’t quite see what my hands were doing, or how wet I was underneath my white denim miniskirt. “Gary, why don’t you go change out of that? Honey, can you get him a pair of my shorts?”

Any sense of remorse at trading on my husband’s good nature was swallowed up at the prospect of getting exactly what I’d angled for. “C’mon, Gary; I’ll take care of you.” I led him straight to our bed, feeling my desire leaking down the insides of my thighs.

“What a fucking slut you are,” Gary sneered at me while I knelt before him and tried to fit all of him in my mouth. The shame and the cologne just made me hotter. “You’d get off on me doing you right here in your husband’s bed, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, yes!” I moaned, scrambling onto the bed and spreading myself for his pleasure. My skirt was around my waist and my insubstantial panties were pulled to the side, exposing my dripping gash. “Fuck me! I need your cock in my pussy so bad!”

He obliged me, and we gave the springs a real workout. I urged him on with dirty words and every trick I’d learned since that first day, and shuddered with excitement when I felt Gary explode inside me. I’d gotten to taking it for granted that every fuck felt like the best one I’d ever had, but Gary apparently was pretty worked up too, because we traded places and went at it again.

I bounced up and down on his erection, listened to him call me a slut and a whore while he played with my tits, and thought it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. Afterwards, he made me stuff my panties inside myself to trap his spunk in my pussy, and I cleaned every inch of his gleaming organ with my tongue.

Gary fucked me again at the end of the evening when he came up to retrieve his pants, and I was all over Jose like a crazy woman that night, thanks to Gary’s scent on the sheets. I didn’t think he knew he was getting sloppy seconds, but the scent was still kind of strong. I realized I was screaming, “Fuck me! Make me your slut, baby!” loud enough for the kids to hear, but still I fell asleep contented for the first time in weeks.