The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was nothing interesting about the day. Just another late spring afternoon, after class, walking around the college-town downtown, deciding which coffee house to study in. I browsed in a number of stores, just to while away a couple minutes and put off studying.

In one of the smaller used-clothing stores, I saw a tiny black fabric miniskirt that really drew my attention. I wasn’t sure why, but it just looked like it was made for me. I took it in the back and tried it on, exchanging my jeans for the snug fabric. It felt very nice against my thighs. Usually, I just try on clothes in front of the mirror in the dressing room and decide, but I figured I should walk around a bit out in the store to see how it felt.

I took a small stroll around the shop to see how it felt and stopped in front of the full length mirror. I turned in the mirror to examine myself, just to make sure. Yes, this was the one.

While I was doing so, I noticed a man looking at me. I had seen him before, but he must be harmless. He looked so trustworthy. And, he was looking at my body in such a nice way.

I winked at him.

He smiled.

While on the way back to the dressing room, I noticed a very nice bright red t-shirt as well. It was laid out on a table near the door, just as though someone had set it out for me. I took it back in with me. Putting it on, I noticed it was a little small, and that my bra showed through the tight fabric. I really liked this particular shirt, though. I couldn’t go for a larger size. I had to have this one.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The outfit was good, but my panties were showing through the skit, and my bra straps were visible through the top. Well, the bra and panties had to go. I never had walked out in public without either of these things before, but this outfit just would not look right otherwise. I really wanted this outfit to look just perfect. It just had to have it.

I undressed, removed the undergarments, and put my perfect outfit back on. I went back out to the mirror in the store to check myself out again. The man was still there. Such a nice man, and so good looking. I turned again in the mirror.

Yes.

That was it. The red shirt set off my light skin and dark medium length hair very well, and because it was just a bit tight, it really showed off my pert breasts. The skirt, as well, now without the panties in the way, hugged my hips and showed off my taught stomach. I don’t remember thinking about my body with these adjectives before, but this outfit really did make me look like the fox that I was. As I went back into the dressing room, I saw the perfect pair of four inch red heels sitting and a small purse where the t-shirt was before.

What luck! Just what I needed to complete the outfit.

I went back into the dressing room, traded off my shoes, and transferred all the necessities from my old purse to my new purse, including the small tube of mousse I had just bought at the drug store next door. I walked out of the dressing room, my old clothes in a bundle.

I went to the register. Sally, a girl from the swim team with me, and from my dorm, was behind the counter. She had not really noticed me, I think, as she was studying while working.

“Hey Leslie, how are you,” she asked, looking a little confused.

“Very good,” I returned, smiling. “In fact, I don’t know if I’ve never felt this good.”

“That’s a radical outfit for you, ms. jeans and oxfords. What gives?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right for today. Doesn’t it look great?”

“Well, it’s different, that’s for sure.”

I thought she might be a little jealous. Sally was also very good looking, and as fit as me. She never flaunted it like this, though. She should though. I smiled at her, while handing over the charge card for the outfit. I picked up a pair of dark sunglasses at the counter, along with a bright red lipstick.

“Sally, dear, could you do me a big favor? Take this stuff back to the dorm for me. I don’t need them today anymore.” I handed her my books, clothes and wallet.

“Sure Les,” she said handing me the pen to sign. “It’s gonna get kind of chilly out there though. Don’t you want a jacket?”

I thought about it.

“No, I’m not going to be outside that much after sundown,” I said as I put the lipstick on. It made my lips look large. It was firey. I put the lipstick in my purse.

She took the bundle and put it in a bag. I saw her notice the panties and bra.

“I’m just free and easy today, Sal.”

“I guess so, Les. You do look pretty good in that,” she said, somewhat sheepishly, a little conspiratorial grin forming. “You got big plans or something I should know about?”

I winked at her. “No plans. Just flying by the seat of my pants. Or whatever this is. Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

I turned for the door. I had not spent more than $100 on designer clothes ever in my life. This outfit made me feel so sexy, I wanted to share it with everyone walking down the street.

I walked out the door, and began to strut down the sunny street.

I thought to myself that I had never felt so sexy in all my life. It couldn’t have been more than 65 degrees outside, but I was burning up. The two tiny pieces of clothing that separated me from nakedness felt like down comforters on me in August. I could feel myself stretching to try to get out of them. Almost sweating from the heat. But no matter. I was hot. In more ways than one.

The breeze blowing up my skirt made my hair down there stand on end. I felt like someone was massaging my pussy with every step. I had a hug smile on my face as I walked.

I didn’t care where I was going, I just strutted, walking. Taking corners here and there, turning right, left and right. Many men I strutted past looked at me with wide eyes. Some even whistled. This served only to make me hotter. The yes of “hey, baby,” got me downright horny. This was only natural. These men were enjoying my body as much as I was, and I was there to show it off to them.

I saw a car parked in the street on one block. It was a Chevy, green with tan interior. It was a very nice car, and I was ready to take a seat. Why not sit down in this car? The doors are probably unlocked, and I will only sit for a while.

The doors were unlocked. I got into the driver’s seat. I took the tube of mousse from the purse. I should really put this on, I thought. This would slick my hair back very nicely. It would only add to the look.

I did so. As I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling the silky mousse flatten it against my scalp, I felt a series of shivers. Now, the look was complete.

I noticed that the keys were in the car. Why not take it for a drive? Sure, why not.

I started it up, pulled out of the parking space, and headed out. What a great afternoon for a drive. And what a nice car! I just drove for a while. Every now and again, I turned left or right when it seemed like the right thing to do.

Eventually, I noticed I was driving to the downtown of the city next to where wy college was. What a nice neighborhood I was in. I felt perfectly safe here. No problem. I saw a parking space. It was time to park the car. No problem.

I hopped out of the car, put the keys in my purse. Time to walk again.

More men on the street this time. It was a busy street, lined with various stores selling all kinds of things. More whistles, move lascivious looks. I reveled in it. Wasn’t it nice to have men want my body so much! I remembered that typically I would dress in baggy clothes to hide my figure. Why had I done that? Now, feeling so hot and wet from the outside attention felt so good. This was a great change of pace.

One establishment looked really good. It had no windows, and only was a cinderblock building with a couple doors, but it looked like a nice place to spend some time. “Lightning Sam’s.” What a good name for a place. They had all nude women and pole dancing all day. That was just what I was looking for! I had always been interested in what these places looked like on the inside. I had the time, so why not find out. I noticed on the door that tonight was amateurs’ night as well. Perfect! I would get to see something interesting. I opened the door, and walked in.

Inside it was dark.

After stumbling around for a while, I took off my sunglasses, and it was not as dark.

That was much better.

The nice man at the door asked me if I wanted to dance.

“Well, I’m not a great dancer,” I said, “I don’t know how to waltz or anything.”

He said not that kind of dance, but up on stage.

That was a great idea. Me up on stage! Wow! I had always wanted to perform. It was another chance to show myself off. I practically begged him to let me.

“OK, no problem lady. That’s what’s tonight is for.” He seemed a little perturbed at my eagerness. “What’s your name.”

I thought about it. What was my name? My name was... My name was...

My name was Ginger. As in Ginger Ale.

“Uh huh. Ginger. Got a last name?”

Last name? Last name. Let’s see... Last name...

“Spice. Yes. Ginger Spice.”

“Is that your stage name, miss?”

“Nope. That’s it. Ginger Spice. My name.”

I wonder why I couldn’t remember it before? Maybe it was the hot day. Anyway, I had always been called Ginger.

“Ok miss. You’re number five on the list. Have a seat. Drinks are on the house for participants. You don’t seem to need any, though. The judges are over in the corner,” he said, pointing to three well dressed men.

I winked at him. “What’s your name,” I asked.

“Bruno. Bruno Magli.”

“Well, Bruno, thank you very much.” He was a big beefy guy, with a wonderful, and full stomach that hung way over his belt. Now that was sexy. I smiled. He gave a long sigh.

He showed me to a table. I looked up at the stage. A large-breasted woman was up there now, taking all of her clothes off. She was hot as well. Very hot. She got me hot. I stared at her, my mouth open. Not since I saw “Showgirls” in film appreciation class had I been so entranced by a woman.

That was funny though. I was pretty sure they didn’t show “Showgirls” in film appreciation classes, and I was pretty sure I had never seen the film. But, well, I guess I had. I watched her. Large blonde tresses flowing around her as she spun. It was good that I was watching her. I could learn a lot from her about my own dancing. She was very good.

After a while, I noticed that a man had taken the seat next to me in my booth. I looked over to see not just any man, but the hot stranger that I had seen in the used clothing store. He was an Adonis! He really was! I wanted to please him. I wanted to make him happy. He looked like he was happy. It was my job to keep him that way.

“Hello Ginger,” he finally said after staring at me.

“Hello.”

“Are you enjoying your new outfit?”

“Yes, I just got it today. Do you like it?”

“Very much so. And it looks great on you.”

I blushed. “Thank you. I’m glad it makes you happy.”

“Good. I knew you would be. Ginger, are you going to dance tonight?”

“Well, I told Bruno I was going to. Do you want me to?”

“Yes, very much so. Would it make you happy to dance?”

“If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”

“It makes me happy Ginger. You are very talented. You can dance better than any of these girls.”

I was very talented. And I could dance better than any of these girls.

“Ginger, I want you to go up there and give it your all. If you do, it will make me very happy.”

I wanted him to be happy.

“Would you like a cigarette, Ginger?” As he asked, hit lit one of his own. I did want a cigarette. I never smoked before, but having one between my lips just seemed right. I took one from him, and lit it. It tasted good with the gin and tonic taste in my mouth.

I exhaled into the air, enjoying the nicotine rush.

“Thank you very much,” I said.

As the next woman started, the man pointed out the moves she did that he would like to do. I saw, and remembered. She, too, was very good. I watched her. I was more flexible and lithe than her. I could top her. The man told me what music to ask for, and coach me a little more. He had moved next to me. I could feel his warm breath, so sensuous. I became incredibly sexually excited at the thought of touching him, even his hand. I reached out to touch his fingers.

Just then, Bruno came to the table.

“Missy, you’re up next. Follow me to the backstage.”

I got up, looking again at the wonderful man at the table.

“I want to make you happy.”

I followed Bruno to the back, and told him what music to put on. He offered me oil, which I spritzed onto myself, giving me an additional sheen. I put it on everywhere.

The previous woman finished and came of the stage naked, holding her clothes and a wad of money in her hands.

“You were wonderful,” I said, smiling.

“Thanks, bitch. Good luck out there.”

“Thank you.”

I walked out onto the darkened stage. The music began. The song “Little Red Corvette” turned me on so much that dancing to it seemed only natural. Why had I never done this before? Soon I was in the groove, swaying and moving my body. The lights came up strong and I was hypnotized, completely oblivious to the outside world. I looked out into the crowd and found the man, looking up at me. I wanted to make him happy by dancing well.

I gyrated on the stage, flexing as much as I could. Slowly, I removed my top, exposing my breasts as I did the splits I could do so well. Many men came up and placed $20 bills in my skirt as I bet down to them, just like the other girls.

After more gyrations and swinging on the pole, I walked to the edge of the stage and unsnapped the skirt, letting it fall down onto the stage. I was now free for the first time since the store. I spun slowly around the pole, just me and my red fuck me pumps entertaining the crowd. Relieved of clothing I could show off all the hard work I had done to build my muscles and remain fit. I spread my legs and leaned back exposing myself to the man in the booth. It was making him happy. I could feel it. I grabbed the pole and rubbed myself against it, getting charge after charge from the cool chrome against me. I wrapped my legs around it and leaned back, eventually doing a backwards cartwheel I hadn’t done since high school. This was all so liberating!

Although Bruno had said not to, I touched myself on stage because I could not restrain myself any longer. The crowd went wild, and Bruno did not turn off the music. The 50 or so men and some women in the bar were cheering as I stood, legs spread, bringing myself to orgasm, facing Mr. Wonderful. It was totally natural to do this for him, and in front of all these people. Yes, totally natural, and made me and him very happy.

I bent my head back and saw stars as I came on the stage, totally relieved, screaming and groaning, trying to keep my balance in my four inch heels, legs wide open. I knew it wasn’t dancing, but it was what he wanted to see. I knew it.

The music ended and the crowd went wild.

I bowed, and, now relieved and tired, collected the money and my clothes that laid on the stage, and left.

“I told you no sex acts on the stage,” Bruno said.

“I’m sorry Mr. Magli,” I said, quietly, dressing. “I just wanted to make people happy.”

“You did. That’s why I didn’t stop you. You better hope for yours and my sake that there weren’t any cops here.”

“Yes sir.”

“When they announce the winners, you may get to do an encore.”

“Ok Mr. Magli. I’ll be here. Can I go back to my table now?”

“Sure, Miss. You can do whatever you want.”

I found myself still breathing heavily as I sat down next to him.

“Did I make you happy?”

“Yes Ginger. You made me happy. And you made yourself some money.”

“Yes, I did. Would you like it?”

“No Ginger. Put it in your purse. It should more than pay for your outfit.”

He had his hand on the table. This time I wasted no time and touched it with my hand.

“I want to make you happy,” I said, seriously, looking into his eyes.

“But you don’t want to fuck me yet, do you Ginger.”

No, I didn’t want to have sex with him yet, although I did a few seconds ago. I wanted to bring him to the edge, stimulate him, but sex would wait. I would not have sex with him yet.

“No,” I said, smiling, “of course not.”

“Good.”

Another girl had started on the stage, and I looked up in wonder. The crowd was not as lively for her, although she was performing well. I got another drink, put on more of the wonderful lipstick, and took another cigarette from him. He was staring at me.

All of a sudden, I got an idea. I was going to make him happy in a great way. I excused myself from the table, and found what I though was the best looking girl so far, a woman named Bebe Beat.

I went over to her, and sat down next to her, with a man on the other side of her as well. I introduced myself, and she seemed nice. All of a sudden, I felt a strong surge over me of lust for her. It came out of nowhere, and I had never experienced it before for another woman. She had straight blonde hair, larger breasts than me, and a little wider hips. She had a wonderful rose tattoo on her ankle, and wore a sequined bathing suit. Blue eyes, and marvelous skin. She had a wild look about her. I saw her, and hungered for her. I restrained myself, and leaned closer to her ear.

“Bebe,” I whispered, “I have a proposition for you.”

She actually seemed interested in it. Her perfume was intoxicating me. I told her my offer. She agreed. I could imagine how I came up with such a great plan. I went back to him at the table and smiled at him.

A few more very good looking girls went up on the stage and danced, and then the judges went into a huddle. It was unanimous. I had won.

I looked at Bebe. She nodded.

Bruno called me up onto the stage for my finale. I went to Mr. Magli and told him what to play for my encore. I took the stage. Bebe joined me to great calls from the crowd.

The two of us started out at different ends of the stage, gyrating and dancing with the poles as before to the loud syncho beat of the music, and slowly neared each other. At the middle of the stage we met, and turned to face each other in front of the chair. First Bebe undressed me, ravenously, but slowly, as planned. Then I undid her one-piece suit. We backed up against each other, feeling each other from behind, and then turned again, facing each other.

My attraction to her was almost as strong as it was for the man at my table. I wanted to lick her all over. And I proceeded to, starting at her legs. We ended up mashing face with the music pounding, my heart racing. It was ecstacy.

And I knew he was happy.

Then, as planned, Bebe sat down in the chair, legs spread. I danced around her and then kneeled before her, licking her inner thighs. After teasing her for a while, I went to it, fucking her with my tongue and licking her. It was the best taste I ever had in my mouth, and I could think of nothing else.

It was totally natural for me to be up here doing this. It was not typical, but it was totally natural. I sucked and bit in joy while the music pounded, until I felt Bebe reach the edge and go over it in the chair, her legs now wrapped around my neck, her hands on my head. I could feel the bills landing on my back.

As she orgasmed into me, I could feel her squirm and hear her shriek. It was amazing—I was totally connected to this woman of my dreams.

The plan had worked like a charm.

We finished up on the stage, collected the money, and went back stage. I embraced her, and we kissed deeply, covered in each others’ sweat. I had really enjoyed doing this.

“Thank you,” I said, still out of breath.

“I should thank you,” she said. She was beautiful.

As was our deal, she got to keep all the money thrown up on stage. It looked like almost $1000. Not bad.

“You have a real talent,” she said.

I blushed.

“Any time you want to come over, or come, you just let me know,” she was smiling.

“I will.” So was I.

“That guy you’re with is something else, too,” she added.

“He’s the man of my dreams,” I said.

I returned to the table, not wanting to let Bebe or the man out of my sight.

“You made me very happy again,” he said.

“Can we go back to your place and fuck now,” I asked, quietly.

“You said just what I was thinking,” he said, smiling. “shall we take you car?”

“It’s right outside,” I said.

We got out to the car, and he asked for the keys. I gave them to him, and he opened the door for me. He got in the driver’s side, and started the car. I could barely keep my hands off of him, but for some reason I knew it would not make him happy if I touched him. I began massaging myself again, slowly, with my fingers. lightly.

We got to an apartment back near campus, and headed for the door. We quickly got to the sixth and top floor in the elevators, and headed in. The apartment was well-furnished, and well appointed. Suddenly, I needed to take a shower.

“May I go freshen up?” I asked.

“Please. Everything you need is in the bathroom,” he said, pointing the way.

I went into the bathroom and started a shower. The hot water was so invigorating and the wonderful (antibiotic) soap refreshed my skin. I could have stayed in for hours. After soaping and rinsing, I found the body oil and anointed myself with it slowly, all over my body.

I was happy that I had not pulled the curtain closed when I noticed him watching me. He also had put a video camera on a tripod, and was taping. I was very happy he would have a record of all of this, and it gave me further incentive to perform again. I became incredibly turned on again, ready to touch myself to explosion.

I continued with the oil, pouring it onto me, rubbing it in with a sponge. My arms, legs and torso. I washed my hair and put in conditioner. As I was doing so, I became even more aroused. My eyes fluttered. In the corner of the shower, I noticed for the first time, the large purple dildo in the shower. I bent down and picked it up, all ten inches of it. It was made of a rubbery material, and was translucent. After washing it well, I held it against me.

A wicked idea came to me. Would it fit down my throat? Wouldn’t that be great. Without even thinking about it, I began to give the dildo the best blow job it ever had. I put above my face, and kissed the tip of it, running my tongue around the tip. Then, like a sword swallower, I slowly entered it into my mouth. Between the hot water, the smooth oil and this amazing thing between my lips, I could barely stand it!

Slowly, I began taking its entire length into my mouth and down my throat. Soon, the entire mass was inside of me. I felt like it was going to explode, as much as I was myself. It filled my throat. I could not move my neck. It was a totally new, and totally erotic experience. I realized all of a sudden that I was masturbating again, without even thinking about it. I was almost to the edge of an orgasm when I finally felt my fingers against me, and going into me. What tipped me off was my inability to suck in air with the dildo lodged in my throat.

I could feel myself shaking, my own fingers working me into a lather, the dildo in my throat feeling like a real penis, I sucked into it more, my phantom lover above me. Gasping, I brought myself to another furious orgasm as my body exploded in the shower.

I was now covered in sweat as well as oil as I slid the dildo up out of my throat and mouth, taking gasps of breath as I recovered. I leaned against the wall of the shower, glistening, heaving, loving it.

I looked up at him, hungrily from my prone position. I could see he was happy. So was I.

I washed off again, quickly, and put on new oil. Finally finished, I stepped out of the shower, towelled off, and picked up the robe that was laid out. He was in the bedroom, sitting at the desk near the bed. I looked at him, ready to go.

“Don’t you want to take a little nap first,” he asked.

“Yes, I’m a little tired.” All of a sudden, I was tired, and I wanted to take a nap.

I crawled onto the bed, and fell asleep, face down, almost immediately.

As I woke up, I felt totally refreshed. I had rolled over onto my back, the robe was gone, and I felt wonderful. He was removing a piece of paper that had been wrapped around the very bottom of my leg, right above my foot.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s only a henna painting. It should be gone in a few weeks at most.”

I looked down. He had put what amounted to a temporary tattoo of a beautiful bracelet on my leg. I smiled.

“It’s fine with me,” I said.

I noticed that the curtains and drapes were drawn. “What time is it?”

“It’s the evening. The sun has set. I made dinner.” He put a bowl of soup and a piece of bread in front of me, on a tray, along with a glass of juice.

“It’s carrot juice and carrot and ginger soup,” he said.

How did he know that that had always been my favorite?

I ate slowly, as he went around the room, dimming the lights and lighting candles. He then stepped out of the room, saying he’d be right back. He was so very good looking. I had to have him.

I finished the soup and drank the carrot juice and water, putting the tray on the desk. He came back in, still wearing his jeans and a white button down.

I stood up off of the bed, and walked to him. I put my head against his chest, and wrapped my arms around him. He was so warm and firm. My naked body drank in every touch of him. He embraced me, and we kissed for the first time. He was so serious, and so very well built, and so very erotic.

After holding each other for a very long time, I began to undress him slowly. While taking off his socks, I noticed that he had a fading tattoo of a bracelet on his ankle as well. Once he also was bare, he moved to the bed, and laid down, face first. I took the oil from the nightstand, and began to massage his back. It was pure pleasure, feeling the strong muscles underneath my hands. I had performed physical therapy many times, but this was a pleasure to do. I worked him out, his arms, legs and all torso muscles. He was beautiful.

Climbing around on his oiled body, my own body became oiled again. Soon, after finishing his back, I rolled him over. His front was a well proportioned as his back, with a treasure between his legs. A large and thick penis, standing erect, big and firm. I oiled his body for a while as he closed his eyes and gave low, constant humming sounds.

After a few moments, though, it became too much, and I began to concentrate on his dick. It was large, and uncut, and so very firm in my hands.

I kissed it, licked it, put it in my mouth. It was like ambrosia. I felt his hands on my head lightly pulling me off of it. I looked up at him.

“Are you ready,” he asked.

“I’ve been ready.” I looked at him.

He handed me a glass of water and two pills. Without thinking about it, I took them. They had no immediate effect.

He rolled me onto my back, and began licking my legs. I could feel myself beginning to build again as he licked and nibbled me. I put my own hands on his head and ran my fingers through his dark wavy hair. He reached my pussy and mastered it quickly, using his tongue and teeth like an expert. This went of for what seemed like a blissful eternity, him building me up, up and up, again and again. I stretched my arms out above my head, now moaning with his moves, sucking in air, building, I could approach, but could not reach an orgasm. I was moaning and almost screaming, wanting it so badly for so long. I was getting close to the top when all of a sudden, he began to crawl up my body.

As he moved up, I could not control myself. I felt him cover me like a dark fog, his body on mine, hot slick and wet. He looked down from on top of me, and I yearned for him to go in. I reached out and pulled him down onto me, mashing my face into his.

When he entered me, it was like a jackhammer pounding the sidewalk. Such power, raw and unrestrained as I had never felt before. I burst out, almost immediately, into a scream, breath unable to be caught, the heat and light inside my body busting to get out. His thrusts were like tidal waves going through me. I could feel my body catch on fire, burn like a torch, and explode over and over again.

I came twice within seconds of his entering me, and felt myself building again as his animal motions lit me up again. I had no control of myself or this man. I felt myself give way to screaming and crying out over and over, his grunts timed to his powerful slamming. Every muscle cried out as his hot, wet and huge dick became even more engorged.

I felt him begin to lose it inside of me, like a flamethrower blasting out across a field of dry hay, ripping me apart, a wave of ecstacy went through me again, purely physical, purely animal, passion to the extreme. I held him as though I would fall from a cliff if I let go, both of us heaving breaths, blown away, satisfied and slaked.

He lay on top of me, breathing hard, and I felt a new sensation. Something changed.

I was lying under a gorgeous man, having just had the most amazing sex in my life with him. He was not, however, the man of my dreams. I did not even know him. And I had spent the afternoon giving oral sex to another woman and stripping.

Oral sex with another woman! Stripping! Walking around town like a hooker!

Was this all a dream? It could not have been! I was here!

But here was not so bad, actually. And there was something about the actions of yesterday, something strange... Like I had lived them before, or like it was something I had thought of being played out.

Whatever the feeling, the memories of the previous afternoon worried me deeply.

What power did this man have over me? Why had I not stopped him? What came over me in the resale store?

He moved over to his side. He looked at me, touching my face. I looked back at him, not knowing what to do.

“Leslie?”

Yes, my name was Leslie, not Ginger. What the hell was going on?

“Yes?”

“It’s worn off then. Good.”

“What has?”

“I don’t know what it is, but I’ll explain it to you as much as I can when you wake up. All I can say now, is thank you so much.”

“When I wake up? Explain it now!” I was beginning to get agitated.

“No, you took a couple sleeping pills, and you’ll sleep well now through the night. I’ll explain it all soon. Just let your mind get right with all of this, and you’ll be ok.”

I was getting a little scared. I remembered taking the pills.

“It’s ok. Just rest now.”

I began to feel a little woozy. Sleepy. I began to drift off. As I fell asleep, he quietly said to me, “and so you know, my name is John. John Astor.”

I fell asleep with decidedly mixed feelings about John Astor.

When I woke, it was morning. I opened my eyes, and was surprised to find myself in unfamiliar surroundings. Then I remembered. The strip bar. The shower. The (amazing) sex. John Astor. Ginger. The strip bar!

I bolted up in bed, and I realized I was wearing pajamas. Not mine. I was in the bed where I had fallen asleep. Just as I sat up, John Astor entered the room, with a tray.

“Here’s breakfast,” he said. It was a bagel, some cream cheese, strawberries, coffee and orange juice. He knew my favorites all right. There was a single rose in the bud vase as well.

“What the hell did you do to me!” I was regaining my furious state, even with the good breakfast.

“I’m not going to apologize Leslie. I admit, what I did probably was wrong, but I also gave you something in return.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Have some breakfast while I tell you about it.” He put the tray down.

“I’m getting the hell out of here! I’m calling the fucking police mister!” I began to move.

“Wait. Just listen. You can go to the police if you want. You can leave now. But you have to know what you have.”

I sat back down. “What do I have, AIDs?”

“No. You have the power that I had over you.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sit down and eat your breakfast. Let me explain. He took the second cup of coffee from the tray and sipped it.

I was still enraged, but my curiosity, and hunger I guess, got the best of me.

“Nobody knows where, or how this thing started. But it exists. It’s real, and I had it. Now you have it. Nobody can explain it, but it’s the most amazing thing you’ll ever have.”

I looked at him, doubtfully, while lathering up my bagel.

“It might be a virus, or some kind of bacteria. Who knows. But anyway, its like this. For some reason, whatever reason, you will now be able to pick one person over whom you will have absolute and complete control for as long as you want, until, that is, you have sex with that person, and one of you has an orgasm while you are touching. It can be a man or woman, or maybe even a dog for that matter, I don’t know, but you will be able to pick the person. And that person will be in the palm of your hands. All you have to do is think something, and that person will react. You know how it feels.”

I took a sip of orange juice. It was fresh squeezed.

“You know how you felt yesterday, think about it. At some point, maybe a lot, I’ll bet that you thought to yourself that all you wanted to do was to make me happy, right?”

Well, I thought, yes, this was true. “Ok, yes.”

“Now, why would you ever want to do this for a total stranger?”

I had no answer. I stared at him.

“It’s because I wanted you to think that way. When you went into the dress shop and bought the outfit, leaving your underwear and bra behind, that seemed totally natural, right?”

I wasn’t too happy about it, but he was right, it did seem right at the time. “I guess so.”

“And, well, at the bar. I know you would never do anything like that. But when you were doing it, you couldn’t imagine anything more refreshing or normal, right?”

Now that was kind of pissing me off, but he was right. And deep down inside, I didn’t hate it. I said nothing.

“I know, that was wrong of me to have you do that. But wait until you get the chance. Don’t worry about catching anything from the other woman. She was checked out by a friend of mine before hand. She’s clean.”

“You must have some interesting friends.”

“He’s her gynecologist. But I do have some interesting friends.”

“Do you think that makes it right?”

“No, absolutely not. I’m scum. But for a while, I had absolute and complete control over someone. I used it to the hilt. But I didn’t abuse you like I was abused.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I moved here three months ago, just after I was released. I was controlled by a man. And I’m not gay. Well, I wasn’t.”

“What happened to you?”

“This guy got the power from some woman who really hated him and treated him like dirt for months and months, until she almost killed him from servitude, and got tired of having a lap dog around. She finally had sex with him, gave him a couple bucks and dumped him in New York City.

He knew me from college. We weren’t friends, but he thought I was relatively wealthy. He knew I lived there, and he found me. Rather than going for sex, he went for power. But he also had a secret crush on me as well.

I met him in a bar, this was almost six months ago now, and he totally took over my mind. He wanted me to clear out my checking accounts and give him all my money. As you know, I had no choice but to do so. At that point, I couldn’t distinguish him from a god.

The only problem was that I had very little money. I worked as a freelance writer and editor, and most of my cash came from a small trust my parents had set up. It was all living expenses, and not very many of those. When he found out I couldn’t even sell the condo on the upper East Side or the furniture, because it was in trust, he went crazy.

He turned me into a high-class (thank god) prostitute. I was to provide a steady income for him by selling my body to anyone who came along. He wasn’t overly smart, but at least I had the good connections to find the right clubs to sell myself in. He was kind of jealous of my body, although he was pretty good looking.

Anyway, he sent me on a three month adventure as a gay (and sometime bi) gigolo. Anyone with the right amount of money could have me. He totally changed my personality, making me desperate for sex with men, either top or bottom. But they all had to pay.

You can imagine how this went. But eventually, his ego got the best of him. He had set up a hidden video camera in the bedroom where I brought my clients home, and was watching videos with increasing frequency. His original idea was to frame someone when I brought them home. But it turned out that he had watched me having sex dozens and dozens of times, and because he wanted me to be so, I was great at it. I was a maestro.

Anyway, one night he got stoned and drunk on really cheap vodka. He comes home, after my customer has left for the evening, and turns on the tape. He starts getting off on it.

Then I came home, after being out shopping for groceries, and he fucks me.

I can honestly say that it was the most liberating fuck I had ever had. He put me through hell while doing it to me though. Made me do everything to him before he actually fucked me. Three months of sex, culminating with sex I was told to love with him, and actually did.

Right as he finished, the control wore off. His god-like status dropped.

I looked at him. I told him to get out, or I would plunge a knife through his heart. I would kill him.

He calmed me down enough to tell me about the power, and left.

A week later, he died drunk driving. With God as my witness, I had nothing to do with it.

For whatever reason, I left New York and came out here. It was a place I knew pretty well from college, and a place I could at least have some good memories about. In New York, as you can imagine, I can’t really hang out in my old circles anymore. People see me and have very strange reactions.

So I rented this apartment, brought out some books, and lived a quiet life. I also went to a doctor every week for about three months. He checked me out from stem to stern, and last month declared that, unbelievably almost, I had not contracted any viruses or anything.

Once I found out I was healthy, I started to get back into the swing of things. But I had this control monkey on my back. I had to choose someone. So I looked around.”

Now I was sitting in John Astor’s bed, sipping his orange juice, and listening to this story. He was really, really good looking, and, well, I was enraptured by the tale, only because, in these weird circumstances, it seemed believable.

“If you would have told me this yesterday,” I said, “I would have never believed you. But I would never have done any of that stuff. Why would you make me do that?”

“You may not want to admit it,” he said, smiling, “but the strip bar, the other woman, even the purple rubber dildo, all of those were your fantasies, not mine.”

I blushed, but was really angry. “Fuck you. They are not.”

“I picked you about two weeks ago, Leslie. There are hours of your life that you don’t remember during the past two weeks. Think about it. You can’t remember What you did after going to the library last Tuesday, can you? You were supposed to study for chem.”

I thought about it. In fact, I had a clear memory. I fell asleep once I got there. I told him.

“Then how did you get home?”

I couldn’t remember.

“You came here with me. You told me your fantasies. You did it every night for almost a week. Then I drove you home. Oh yeah, you also actually studied for your exams. I think you did really well.”

He turned on the VCR/TV. It was a picture of me, sitting in a large easy chair, looking at someone, like an interview. As it played, I sat and talked about my fantasies, in response to his off-screen questions.

On the TV, I said: “Well, I have this one fantasy about stripping. You know, like in a strip bar? I’ve always thought I could do that better than the girls in the movies. I wanted to dance to ‘Little Red Corvette,’ and wear a tight black mini and a tiny red shirt. It gets me hot just thinking about it.”

He hit pause.

“How do I know you didn’t make me say that?”

“You know. Think about it. That was your fantasy. Wasn’t it?”

He was right. I had to admit it. He was right.

“Ok, maybe the stripping, but the other stuff on stage?”

“That, well, was a compilation of other fantasies. You do have a strong exhibitionist streak in you Leslie. And, well, some deep-seated interest in seducing other women. Just in fantasy, though until yesterday.”

He hit play. The tape was actually scenes from a couple different interviews. Me in various clothes, all mine, jeans and baggy shirts as always. I talked about all the things I had done yesterday.

Again, I had to admit that when I thought about it, I had fantasized about these things.

“Hey, just because I thought about these things didn’t mean I wanted to do them!”

“I know. But I figured better to have you do things you at least had some basis in your mind for. Besides, I pledged that I would keep you under total control for less than 24 hours. And I did.”

“Thanks a lot. What if I knew anybody in the bar?”

“You didn’t. You were programmed to tell me if you had ever seen any of the faces in the bar before. You hadn’t. Besides, you’re graduating soon, and leaving. Don’t sweat it.”

Boy, was he sure of himself. And I had to admit, again, that my opinion of him was changing. But he still was a bastard. I appreciated the gift now, though.

“Leslie,” he said. “I know you must think I’m a total bastard. But think about it this way: If nothing else, I picked you as the sexiest woman I could find. And believed me, I looked. I know I did a lot to you, but I could have done lots more. Believe me. And now, you are free. The power can’t be used against you again. I know because I was going to use it on the guy who had me, and make him jump out the window. But I couldn’t. So now, you have the choice. You can make someone very very happy by having sex with them, and at the same time have total control.”

I just kind of stared at him, trying to take all of this in. By now, I was more relaxed. He had me thinking of What he could have done to me, and he wanted respect for that. I guess I grudgingly gave him some. I found myself staring at him. I was remembering the sex before I fell asleep. I think it really was the best sex I had ever experienced.

I was having weird feelings about Mr. John Astor.

“John, why me?”

“I told you, I liked you. I just saw you walking around. I blanked your memory of it, but we had a great conversation in a café before I chose you. If I didn’t have this power, I would have asked you out. But I had to do these things to you. You have to know how it feels a little. I was going to give you the gift, and I wanted to give you a taste of the responsibility too.”

I guess I saw that. I kept looking at him.

“John, if I told you that I was, well still interested in you, What would you say?” It was not exactly time to mince words. This guy could have sold me into slavery or something like had happened to him, and he chose not to.

“I’d ask if you had a knife behind your back.” He smiled.

“Come over here and check to see if I have a knife behind my back.” I, of course, did not.

He really did seem surprised, but he came over, and, playfully, checked. He removed the tray, put it next to the bed, and sat down next to me.

God was he good looking.

“You’re not controlling me now, are you?” I had to know.

“Not at all. You’re free to go.”

I thought about it.

I wanted to stay, at least for a while.

I leaned over, and softly kissed him on the lips.

“Thanks for making my fantasies come true, John.”

I’d think about my subject later.