The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

WARNING: The following story is a work of fiction which takes place in an alternate universe where advanced mind control is possible, if not morally acceptable. For all you Little Leaguers out there, don’t try this at home.

Any resemblance between the characters in this story and any real persons either living or dead is purely coincidental. The author assumes no liability or responsibility if some knucklehead blames this story on his/her criminal and/or deviate conduct; that’s his/her problem, not mine.

The Initiation Of Patty Ferguson

by Merle Taylor

(mf, ff+, fm+, ff, bd, sm, mc) (applies to whole story)

Part 1

Walter Forbes sat in his office, reflecting on the day’s work. The profits were going up, and showed no signs of sagging. He thought about expanding his entertainment complex to include a large stage for operas and musicals. While thinking about the future, he looked at the large portrait on the wall; the sight sent him back into his past.

Forbes’ parents both died just after he was born; he was eventually raised by his uncle, Alexander Forbes. Alexander worked for the government before leaving to form his own private company. When Walter was 10, he walked in on Uncle Alex playing cards with 2 other people, talking about the new business. Uncle Alex had no choice but to mentor his young nephew in the trade, but only under the condition he not take over the business when Alexander left. That was fine with Walter, who had other plans. He was able to use those skills in keeping his own business alive and successful, which in turn changed Speaksville from a decaying industrial city to a vibrant metropolis.

Walter Forbes was a most distinctive-looking man. He was 34 years old, 5-feet-10 inches, with an average build. His hair was dark and wavy, his forehead high, his nose straight and fairly prominent, his handlebar moustache carefully waxed and his Van Dyke beard groomed just as meticulously. But his most distinctive features were his green eyes: expressive, probing, capable of expressing every known emotion. Many around him said his eyes had a hypnotic quality; he always found that comment faintly ironic and not a little amusing. In his clothes and artistic tastes, he was the quintessential highbrow, and he was more than capable of subsidizing that lifestyle. If the money didn’t work ... he would have to resort to his undeniable talent.

Patty Ferguson had just moved moved from Arizona to work for a Christian bookstore in Speaksville. Patty was a natural beauty, with long, wavy brown hair, expressive green eyes, and large breasts which warranted unwanted attention. She was not fond of her beauty and hated being the object of other men’s lusts.

Patty was taking a break, scanning the local newspaper. Suddenly, an advertisement for a gentleman’s club called The Diplomat caught her eye.

“Have you heard of this place called The Diplomat?” she asked Mr. Bylsma, her boss.

“You couldn’t get me into that club even if you paid me,” he commented nonchalantly.

This lack of indignation bothered Patty. “Hasn’t anyone tried to fight this place?”

“When it first went up, there was a bit of a stir,” Bylsma replied, cleaning his glasses, “but once Mrs. Cather was killed in that auto accident, no one’s complained.”

“Who’s Mrs. Cather?”

“Oh, Rita Cather. She was a big community activist. She founded some group called the Family Protection Coalition. After her death, the group faded away. They’re still active, but they barely exist.”

“Where and when do they meet?”

“If I remember correctly, they meet on the last Tuesday of each month at 7:30 at Calvary Bible Church. I assure you, they’re not that big.”

Patty didn’t care; she wanted to pick up where Rita Cather left off.

When Patty walked into the church basement that night, she was shocked to find only four other people in the room: two elderly women and a couple holding hands. One of the women wore a thick, dark wig that clashed with her pale, gaunt features; she walked with the aid of a cane. The other woman did all the talking; there was a certain bitterness about her, as if she knew she was fighting a losing battle. She railed against the owner, a mysterious man with the strange moustache and beard, how he bought off the City Council, how he was corrupting the city’s youth. But with each complaint, her voice trailed off at the end. Meanwhile, the couple sat there, still holding hands, staying silent. The husband was about 50 and stocky, with grey wavy hair, glasses, and a moustache. The wife was considerably younger, a small, attractive woman with dark red hair and a healthy tan.

The meeting lasted all of 20 minutes. The talkative old woman thanked Patty for expressing interest, saying there was still hope for Speaksville. But Patty still felt a bit of a letdown. Here was this strip joint, plain as day, and only 5 people show up to protest! As she was walking to her car, she was met by the couple.

“You’re Patty, right?” the man asked with a Southern drawl.

“Yes, I am,” she responded tentatively.

“I’m Edgar Winfield, and this is my wife, Gina,” he said, introducing Patty to his wife.

“Pleased to meet you,” Gina said with a soft Southern accent, shaking her hand firmly. “Tell me,” Gina continued, “how long have you lived in Speaksville?”

“About a month,” Patty answered, “I just moved from Arizona.”

“Well, Patty,” Edgar interjected, “let me tell you why we’re here. We work for The Diplomat.”

“You do?” she said, totally shocked. “And you want out, right?”

“Not exactly,” Gina said. “We’re here to see how the meetings are going.”

“In other words, you’re spies,” Patty said.

“Correct,” replied Edgar.

Patty was really disappointed. Only 3 of the 5 people in that room were sincere about ridding Speaksville of this sleaze den! She was starting to feel alone, the apathy frustrating her more with each second.

“I know you’re disappointed,” Edgar said in a calm, sympathetic voice.

“Get away from me, you filthy swine!” Patty spat at the couple as she walked swiftly to her car.

“Look,” Edgar shouted, “you’ll never understand what you’re fighting until you actually see it!”

As Patty lay in bed later that night, Edgar Winfield’s words refused to leave her head. They pleaded with her, cajoled her, reminded her of what she had to face. After thinking about what he said, Patty decided she would take her protest to the owner of the club. She had nothing to lose; she wanted this scoundrel to know what he had to contend with.

The next day was an off-day for Patty. She put on a grey dress with white pumps, dressing as if she was going to a business interview. She drove to The Diplomat, ready to give that blackguard everything she had.

When she arrived, she noticed The Diplomat was part of a large complex, which included a shopping mall, a hotel, a restaurant, an orchestra hall, a jazz club, and a large casino. She asked a passerby for directions and was led to an entrance off to the side.

When she walked into the lobby, she saw the receptionist, a young, heavy-set woman with brown hair and rosy cheeks. “How may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I want to speak with the owner of this establishment,” Patty replied.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry. You need an appointment. May I arrange one for you?”

At that moment, two men walked from the office into the lobby. One had white hair and a youthful but nondescript face; the other was heavier, with dark hair, a large moustache, and a lantern jaw. The white-haired man whispered something into the large man’s ear; the large man bolted quickly back into the offices.

“I want to speak with the boss right now!” Patty demanded, accenting the final two words. After her request, the white-haired man whispered something to the receptionist before following his colleague.

“Hold on a moment. I’ll try to get to him,” assured the receptionist. Patty was doing a slow-burn, trying not to lose her composure, struggling to figure out what she was going to say. The intercom beeped; a voice called out, “Michelle, we need to speak.” The receptionist got on a white telephone, conversing quietly with the person on the other end. After she hung up, she smiled at Patty. “This is your lucky day,” she said, “he’ll see you in a little while. First, we need you to go through security clearance to make sure you’re OK.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Patty said. She started to feel better. As soon as this formality was done, she was ready to let the boss have it with both barrels. Patty was led to a waiting room. The walls were pure white and unadorned. A lone reclining chair sat against one of the walls, a small cabinet next to it. Patty relaxed on the recliner. Attached to the cabinet was a set of headphones. She opened the cabinet; there was a stereo inside. She tried to get a local radio station, but was unable to get any reception. Then suddenly, the two men in the lobby walked into the room.

“Patty,” the white-haired man said in a sympathetic but dull voice, “I’m Julius, and this is Herman,” referring to the large man. “We’re here to do security clearance on you.”

“Are you thirsty, Patty?” asked Herman in a quiet, slightly nasal tone.

“Do you have any lemonade?” she asked.

“Coming up,” Herman said, smiling as he left the room. He was gone for a few seconds before coming back with her drink. “Here you go,” he said. “Are you comfortable, Patty?”

“I’m a little nervous,” she confided, drinking the lemonade. She quickly drank down the lemonade; it was the best she had ever tasted.

“Tell me, Patty,” Julius asked, “what are you here for?”

Patty thought for a moment. “You’ll find out. It’s a surprise.” Julius and Herman didn’t care; the plan was in motion. It didn’t take long before Patty started to feel tired.

“Put on the headphones,” Julius suggested, handing her the phones. Patty put them on. Soon, her ears were filled with the beautiful sounds of a Beethoven sonata.

“I hope you don’t mind the music,” Herman said calmly.

“Not at all,” Patty answered, “I actually enjoy it.”

“That’s a state of the art recording,” Julius said, his voice also growing calmer. “Notice how clean the individual notes sound. Notice how they come together to form the melody. Listen to the chords, how the different notes come together to make a beautiful, unified sound.” As he talked to Patty, Julius’ voice was level, comforting, smooth. “Let the music guide you. Let it allow you to drift away. Let go of everything. Let go of your burdens, your tensions, your hate. You’re feeling light as a feather. All you hear are the music and my voice. Concentrate on that alone and nothing else.”

Patty was starting to drift off into a wonderful, almost childlike, sensation. Her frustration and contempt had given way to a deep calm. Her body felt almost weightless, her mind wandering as far as the music and Julius’ voice would let it.

Julius continued his talk. “Soon, you will hear a different voice. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. Walter will pick you up. Just let him be your guide. He’s your friend.” By now, Patty had lost all touch with reality; she was floating on a cloud from Heaven.

A lift beneath the recliner and cabinet had lowered Patty to a room with blue and white curtains on the walls. There was a large veil which obscured another room which held a large bed. Walter Forbes was standing there, waiting for her. He was wearing a floor-length robe and slippers.

“Patty,” he said in a calm, assuring voice, “I’m Walter. Julius told you about me. Do you remember Julius?”

“Yes,” she said, still floating, “Julius ... he said you’re my friend.”

“Yes, he’s right. How do you feel, Patty?”

“I feel light. And free.”

“Do you want to feel even freer?”

“Yes!” she said with subdued urgency.

“You should be able to float even higher. Relieve yourself of the burden of your clothing.”

Patty felt something tingle in her body. In her conscious state, she would have been repulsed by that suggestion. But she was so far under the spell that she had to comply.

“Let me help you,” Walter said. Without removing her headphones, he slowly helped undress her. Once she was naked, he asked, “How do you feel now, Patty?”

“Free, so free.” The sonata had reached its conclusion. Walter gently took off her headphones and set them aside.

“The music ... " Patty whispered.

“Don’t be afraid, Patty; you’re safe with me,” he assured her. “Just concentrate on my voice. Your body is starting to tingle. Your mouth is watering. You’re getting wet between your legs.” Patty started to breathe heavily. “You feel drawn to me. You have a secret desire for me. Don’t let it be a secret to me, Patty. You want me, Patty.”

Patty’s hands moved between her legs, rubbing herself. Never in her life had she ever felt this way. Walter removed his robe and slippers and walked toward Patty.

“Patty, you will find warmth and comfort in my body,” he told her. Gently, he held her in his arms, feeling her soft breasts press against his body. He kissed her gently on the lips. He followed by gently holding her head and applying an even deeper kiss, his tongue slowly probing her mouth. Patty found the sensation unusually warm and soothing; she held his body close to hers, feeling the hair of his chest rubbing against her skin. After their kiss came to a reluctant end, Patty looked into Walter’s eyes; her eyes communicated a tranquil desire. Walter picked Patty up in his arms and carried her to the room beneath the veil. As they reached the bed, he stopped and engaged in another gentle kiss with her, after which he laid her on the bed.

Walter lay on top of Patty, their tongues in locked mouths, their bodies pressed against each other. Walter broke the kiss, moving his mouth around her face, neck, and ears, feeling the soft, virgin flesh against his lips. He moved downward, kissing her throat before his mouth climbed the twin mountains of her chest. He kissed the soft flesh, running his tongue around the small but erect nipples and large, pink areolae. His teeth bit gently into her nipples, causing her to moan softly. His kisses moved down to her hips, abdomen, and thighs before he spread her legs and licked at her pussy.

“Oh, Walter, please,” Patty urged.

“Don’t worry, Patty,” he replied between licks, “this will feel good ... whatever I do, you’ll want more ... just relax and let me make you happy.” Her sex smelled and tasted so sweet; he could eat her without having intercourse and still be satisfied. His tongue danced eagerly along her soft folds while his hands caressed her body. Patty’s breathing was growing louder every second. Her head spun slowly as she sunk deeper into this strange but wonderful state of ecstasy. When Walter’s tongue brushed across her clitoris, her body jerked, and she let out a loud gasp.

“Oh, Walter, don’t stop!” she cried out. By now, she was starting to weep with pleasure, her hands grabbing the bedsheets, her head throwing itself against the pillow beneath it. “I want more, Walter! Please! Don’t ... don’t stop!” Then, without warning, he stopped eating her pussy. “Please, Walter ... I want it. Don’t stop,” she begged.

“Patty ... there’s a strong feeling deep inside your body,” he said in a calm, assuring voice. “You long to feel me inside you. You want it so bad, it makes your body ache. You feel emptiness inside you ... deep inside your body and your soul. An emptiness only I can fill, Patty.” As he spoke, Walter stroked his penis to a full, 9-inch erection.

Patty threw Walter on his back. He smiled; the spell was working beautifully. Grabbing his unit, Patty gradually lowered herself on him. There was a brief period of pain when his rod stabbed through her maidenhead, but the agonizing void inside her was even more painful. Once Walter’s manhood was firmly inside her, Patty rode him as if her soul depended on it. He helped guide her deeper into bliss by grabbing her ample breasts and pinching her nipples. She felt his shaft massaging her inner walls, sending wonderful vibrations through her whole body. With each throb of his muscle, with the sensation of each contour of his wonderful tower, with each caress from his skilled hands, Patty was going deeper and deeper, and she had no desire of getting out.

“Walter!” she yelled, “Fuck me! I want to feel your hard cock inside my fucking hot pussy! Fuck me hard!” Walter was pleasantly surprised; he never thought a nice girl like her would know such words, but he was happy to know he was bringing out the beast in her. He kept up, his hands running over her soft, smooth flesh. “Put it in me harder, you bastard!” she urged, and he complied by rolling her on her back without withdrawing his penis from her.

Walter was now in charge of the intercourse, thrusting harder and harder with each stroke. Patty locked her legs tightly around him, her fingers digging deeply into his buttocks, wanting every last inch of him inside her. She abruptly grabbed his hair, pressing his mouth to hers and exchanging a violent kiss. He never let up, thrusting his staff into her at a maniacal pace. This was a very different woman from the one who walked into the building to give him an earful; the plan was working remarkably well.

The bed was creaking loudly from their carnal aggression. Walter continued to thrust faster, harder, and deeper inside Patty; she kept her legs locked around him, her hands grabbing and clawing at his back and buttocks. He was now fighting not to come too early. He continued his friendly invasion with even more determination. Soon, Patty told him she had to come.

“Fuck me, Walter!! FUCK ME!!” she screamed at him, “I’M GOING ... I’M GOING ... AAAAGGHHH!!” She released an unearthly yell as her body convulsed and shuddered upon the impact of a giant orgasm. As her climax gradually subsided, her body started to grow limp, her breathing becoming heavier, and she could feel the bedsheets moisten beneath her thighs and buttocks. At first, Walter was worried she might come out of her trance. However, her satisfied smile assured him his plan was still in motion.

As Patty was recovering from her orgasm, Walter straddled her and placed his manhood between her large breasts. He felt her soft skin caress his shaft, her juices providing the perfect lubrication. The sight of her luscious body and his erection gliding between her breasts was almost too much to take. Walter felt a strong surge begin in his loins as he continued plowing her breasts. Finally, all the passion and stimulation was starting to build up to a climax.

Putting the head of his penis on her lips, Walter waited for Patty to wrap her lips around it. She willingly took him in her mouth, savouring the taste of his flesh and her own essence from the intercourse. Gradually, she took him deeper inside her mouth until she was able to take all 9 inches of him down her throat. Her first stab at fellatio was working; Walter’s breathing grew louder and heavier.

“I’m coming, Patty,” Walter said under his breath, “Taste my cum, Patty. You’re hungry for it.” The climax was fast approaching. “Oh, Patty, yes ... that’s it ... AAAHHHH!!”

As he let out his loud cry, Walter pulled himself out of Patty’s mouth. His first blast of semen streaked across her face. He put his caber back into her mouth before the second shot was released. She couldn’t keep it all in her mouth, so much of it trickled down her chin. His shots continued to fly into her mouth and across her face. Patty put his rod in her mouth and squeezed it until she drank down every last drop of his cum.

After their intercourse, Patty lay on the bed, exhausted, the semen still streaked across her face and chin. Walter buried his head between her breasts, kissing the valley between her generous globes.

“Would you care for some wine, Patty?” he asked.

“Yes, Walter,” she replied. He poured some wine from a decanter into a crystal glass and handed the glass to her.

“Thank you,” she said before drinking the wine. After she gave Walter the empty glass, Patty felt a warming, soothing calm. Then, without warning, she found herself unable to breathe. Her hands went to her throat, trying to relax some passage to breathe, but none would open up. The shock sent her back into a conscious state, but her struggle was so intense, she barely noticed her own nakedness, or loss of virginity, or even the presence of Walter Forbes, who calmly watched her going through her throes. The room was spinning rapidly at first ... then her focus abandoned her ... then it grew dark ... then she slipped into unconsciousness.

Walter fastidiously dressed into a business suit before pressing a button on the wall. Julius and Herman walked in with a gurney. “She’s ready for the next level,” he told them. He looked at her; her hands were still clutching her throat, her mouth open, her eyes in a startled, sightless stare. He felt some pity for her, but he knew everything would come out all right in the end. The two men put Patty on the gurney and wheeled her out of the room. The first step was over quickly; now the real work would begin.