The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The day of the contest, April arrived at my house a couple of hours early. I hypnotized her, and led her into a state of intense focus. There was nothing in her thoughts but arousal, the need to display, her desire for the contest. When I judged her to be in the proper frame of mind, I drove us to the club.

A crowd had already gathered, and as April pressed through the assembled men, there was a chorus of whistles and lewd remarks. April smiled, and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward. A couple of the guys began to chant, “show us … show us,” and April compliantly moved her hands to the buttons of her blouse. Quickly I gathered her in tow, to a bevy of moans and scattered applause. Making a good first impression definitely helps, but I didn’t want April to display her wares too prematurely!

Through the backstage doorway I glimpsed several lovely young women, most of them already wearing the tight white cotton T-shirt, and plain white cotton panties that are the approved costume for these contests. I turned April over to the contest organizer, and then grabbed the stage-side seat a friend had been holding for me. I had time for a short one before the MC came out on stage, and the contest was under weigh.

Wet T-shirt contests at the “Wet kitty” are a bit different from others I’ve experienced. Rather than voting by applause, the audience votes with their wallet. Each woman is given a ten-minute slot during which she dances solo. Men offer tips, often in exchange for personalized displays. The management collects and counts the money, then matches the contribution garnered by the evening’s high roller. The other women take home their tips minus ten percent for the club. The competition can be quite intense, and often men get into voting for their favorites with lavish donations—fifty or even a hundred dollars being offered on occasion.

The women are brought out together at the start of the contest, and paraded before the audience in their still-dry outfits. Since the contest lasts two or even three hours, the women aren’t hosed down until it’s their turn to take the stage. When a woman’s turn arrives, she’s introduced by the MC, who asks a few fluff questions, mostly about her sex life, and then thoroughly drenches her using a pressurized water bottle. Women usually squeal and jump around a bit, since the water is ice-cold. The men just love this, particularly since the icy shower usually results in tight, well-defined nipples clearly visible though the thin, wet fabric. Of course, most women strip, either partially or completely, during their time on stage, so the wet T-shirt is really only a teaser for what is to come.

The field that evening consisted of eleven women, all of them attractive, two or three of whom I considered stunning. April could match the best of them, in my opinion, and none of them had the enthusiasm that she displayed. During the group show, she was fondling herself, making suggestive moves as if about to disrobe. She caught the eye of first one man, then another, and another, licking her lips, stroking her breasts, making pouting, kissing motions. Only I knew that she was fully entranced; the men in the audience would have simply said she was in heat.

The evening’s entertainment started with a regular—blonde, beautiful, well-schooled in seductive moves, and a frequent winner of these contests. The room was packed, and the men were feeling flush and flushed, if you know what I mean! By the time the blonde was easing off her panties, fives and tens were being slapped down continuously, with the occasional twenty or fifty for a solo dance. The woman writhed and wriggled to an accompaniment of whistles, cat-calls, and various forms of verbal encouragement.

Several other women followed; none as skilled as the blonde, but still each enticing in her own way, and the men were there to be enticed! Drinks were flowing freely, tips for the dancing women were flowing freely, and sexual tension and excitement continued to build as one lush beauty after another displayed herself for the enthusiastic crowd.

When April appeared onstage, everyone knew that this was going to be something different. She was intensely aroused, radiating waves of sexuality. Here was no actress, no parody of passion, no “I’m only in it for the money” sexual golddigger. With the training I’d given her, and in her deep trance state, she was thinking of sex and desire, and those thoughts left room for nothing else. Her face was flushed, her hands roaming wantonly, her breathing rapid. If the contest rules had allowed, April would have fucked every man in the bar and paid for the privilege, and everyone there knew it.

The weeks of practice and deep conditioning paid off now. There was nothing staged about her performance, however. Each moment was natural, sensual, deeply erotic. She strutted to the music, pranced, caressed her body through the thin material of her cotton T-shirt. Her gaze was smoky, and as she met and held the eyes of first one man, then another, and yet another, her look said, “I want you”, “You can have me”, “Take me now”.

As she began slowly inching the bottom of her T-shirt upward, the crowd went wild. By the time she had seductively worked the shirt off, men were tossing large bills towards her, and boisterously vying for the prime spot at the center of the platform. A burly man reached center stage and with a huge grin and showy flourish set a one-hundred dollar bill before the hypnotized sex doll. April moved closer to the man, her eyes half lidded, stroking her lips with her tongue. Seductively, she stroked her body with the T-shirt, then draped the fabric about the man’s neck, pulling him towards her as she leaned forward. After a long kiss, she left her T-shirt with the smiling fellow, and returned to her routine.

As April straightened up, her hands moved to either side of her tiny panties, making teasing downward motions. A man who had been intently watching the T-shirt recipient shouldered his way to the stage. He laid down an image of Benjamin Franklin where it could gaze upward at the anticipated delights. A second man standing next to him pulled out a thick wallet, extracted a wad, and peeled off three of the large bills, pointedly laying them out next to the single-billed offering. The first man, clearly outbid and unwilling or unable to go higher, looked daggers at his rival, then picked up the hundred and stalked off. The crowd was going nuts, hooting, hollering, delivering both encouragement and derision, but mostly demands that April “show it all”.

And, of course, she did show it all. Her eyes fixed on the winner, April slowly, enticingly, seductively eased her tiny panties downward, while gyrating to the heavy beat. She was sighing heavily, caressing her lips with her tongue. From time-to-time she mouthed a whisper—“You’re so hot”, “I feel so hot and sexy”, “Do me”. Her patron was focused intently on her, one hand stroking his crotch. As her panties reached her knees, April began to bend over, her back now to the crowd. By the time her hands reached her feet, her torso was completely up-ended, giving the men a fully exposed view of her treasures. She daintily lifted first one foot, then the other, slipping the panties off of each, and then remained in her head-down position for a long moment, allowing the audience to feast their eyes.

Once again upright, April returned her attention to her high-paying admirer. Her eyes were heavy with lust, her lips full and pouting. While making erotic kissing motions, she seductively slipped her panties between her thighs and slowly seesawed the fabric back and forth. Slick juices moistened the fabric, as her body trembled on the edge of orgasm. She was softly whispering, “Please let me cum. Please let me cum.” The man replied, “Cum for me, baby. Cum now”, not knowing that in her deep trance, April would be unable to climax until I gave her permission.

April continued her stroking until her panties were damp with arousal. She slowly slipped the silken fabric from between her legs, and held them to the man’s nose. He buried his face in them, breathing deeply. April moved closer, and placing a hand behind his head, guided him into her warm, wet, fragrant nest. Although this was clearly against the contest rules, the management knew better than to interfere with this crowd-pleaser. As the man nuzzled deep into her folds, licking enthusiastically, April moaned heavily to the accompaniment of raucous comments, whistles, and catcalls.

Throughout her performance, April continued to glance at me for encouragement and instruction. I smiled and nodded, letting her know how well she was doing. After a time, I motioned her away from her new paramour. Reluctantly, but obediently, she moved toward the center of the stage, now fondling herself with both hands. Her eyes were pleading with me—she needed to orgasm so badly. As the music reached a crescendo, just prior to the end of the piece, I nodded briefly and mouthed the words, “cum now.” Instantly, Aprils body was wracked with the intensity of her climax. Her shudders were accompanied by a high-pitched wail. The men began to cheer, and monetary tribute flowed even more freely, expressing their appreciation of the raw sexuality that was being exhibited.

As the music died away, April strutted off the stage, blowing kisses to her enthusiastic audience. The cheering went on and on, and after a minute or so, April returned briefly to the stage. She stood still, her gaze sultry, a finger between her lips sliding back and forth suggestively, her other hand lightly teasing first one nipple, then the other. She beckoned forward a man who had contributed several large bills, and gave him a quick but deep kiss. Then another, and another. Finally, the MC motioned to her that it was time for the next contestant. The crowd gave a good-natured groan as April retired to the wings. An assistant gathered the ankle-deep green presidential confetti and then the next contestant had her turn.

Needless to say, April was the star of the evening. When the proceeds were tallied, she had garnered almost twice as much as her nearest contender. With the matching funds from the club’s management, she had nearly enough to buy the entertainment center she wanted, and I happily made up the difference. Of course, collecting my end of the bet was no issue. In fact, I enjoyed my first payment in the parking lot right after the show, but then, that’s really another story. April was quite eager for my suggestions, and what was to be a weekend in bed has now stretched to over a year. April is an enthusiastic partner, particularly if I hypnotize her first, which I almost always do! In fact, she’s repeating one of her submission mantras in deep trance right now, and I can see by the way she’s stroking herself and her heavy breathing that she’d like some personal attention. I think I’ll give it to her.