The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Officers Lydia Vasquez and Gail Noonberry, or as, they were better known, the “Dykenamic Duo,” were in a funk. It had been almost three weeks since the young cops had made any type of noteworthy arrests, and their superior officers were prodding them to produce some major results or risk simultaneous demotions to foot patrol.

Although neither woman was actually gay, their mean-spirited moniker derived from the simple fact that neither woman felt interested in dating or, as was usually the request, sleeping with any of their male counterparts.

Truth be told, the two young police officers did make a splendid pair. Lydia was a 5″9″ Puerto Rican, with a toned, hard figure made so by constant workouts in the Precinct weight room. Her ample bosom and backside filled her uniform to the point of surface tension. Older than Gail by almost ten years, for she had joined the Force later in life, she brought a thirty-something wisdom to the two.

Gail was smaller and younger, but no less fetching. Standing 5′4″, the slim blonde was blessed with dark eyes and fair skin, with an equally well blessed upper frame. Joining the Force directly after graduating from SJU with a Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, hers was a feisty nature.

The two had felt obligated to prove themselves as competent officers from the very first day on the job. Although scoring some significant busts initially, the rookie cops had lately been taking in only misdemeanor charges, and their fellow officers were publicly doubting their competence.

The two drove in silence, as they had been for most of the time since leaving the morning roll call. Finally, Gail spoke.

“Okay, so what have we got? Nothing. This morning is too quiet. How are we going to make some collars when nothing’s going down?”

“We can’t do any undercover. They’re not giving us any cases with meat,” Lydia agreed. “Maybe we can go uptown, do a one-time. What do you think?”

“No, we have to do something spectacular. Something that’ll take them all by surprise,” Gail responded, scanning the streets before her.

“The only thing that would surprise those guys is if we said, “Yes,” Lydia said, turning left onto the FDR Drive.

“No, I mean like if we solved a case that was forgotten about, something that fell through the cracks, something...Synchronicity,” she said softly, her voice trailing off.

Lydia glanced, puzzled. “Synchronicity?"”

“Lydia, listen, I was just talking about a forgotten case, right? Well, look at that old-style Checker Cab ahead of you in the next lane,” Gail said, quickly becoming excited.

Lydia eyed the cab, its passengers and cargo obscured by heavily tinted windows.“Sublime Cab Rides. Okay, so what’s your point?”

“I was just talking about a forgotten case, and there it is. Remember that last item called at Roll last month just before the President came to the UN?” Lydia, paused, long enough for Gail to realize that only she remembered obscurities like that. “No,” she said sarcastically.

“Ha ha. Seriously, though, I remember it. A visiting Arab delegate made a robbery complaint. He said that he took a cab ride, fell asleep, and when he woke up, he was on a bench in Central Park, relieved of two hundred thousand dollars in “spending money.”

Lydia slowly nodded her head. “I remember now. You’re right, it was kind of brushed aside when the Summit started. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Gail said. “The dignitary went home, but the case was never solved. All he could remember was the name of the company.”

“Sublime Cab Rides, I see where this is going,” Lydia nodded. “So let’s tail them. In the meantime, let’s call it in and run a check on the name and license plate number.”

Gail shook her head. “No, I remember looking that name up. There is no listing for it. And the license plate number is phony, too.”

“Do you ever leave the Records Office?” Lydia exclaimed.

“Lydia, seriously. If we call it in the guys will just give us shit. Let’s just follow them and see what happens. I’m telling you, I was just thinking about unsolved cases and here it is. We were meant to be doing this.”

Lydia thought a few moments, then conceded. “What the hell, let’s check it out.”

Beth and Debbie were slumped in oversized comfort chairs, their jaws slack and their eyes vacant as the seductive Middle Eastern music filled their headphones.

Beth squirmed in her chair and sighed, her fuzzy mind slowly recalling the strange events of the day.

The events of the early afternoon seemed so much further away than that, yet it had been thusly, herself leaving the office after finishing the article early.

She had gotten caught in the rain, then caught a cab. After that, she ...

Her body shuddered again, another small but intense orgasm vibrating through her sides. The smell of the incense smoke there in the room brought back the memories of the tall, dark, handsome stranger smiling down at her as she touched herself, seducing her as she lay dazed and spellbound by the music, vibrations, and the always insistent incense smell, that hot pink smell that excited her body and befuddled her mind, leaving her a servant of her own desires.

She shook again as she remembered her climax in the cab, her lover so much inside of her, filling her so. God, how she had always dreamt of such a thing.

She smiled dimly as she remembered how kind he had been, helping her to the door of her building.

She had just had to let her best friend try the cab service, just to see what her experience would be. She had not expected Debbie to return with a woman, but the sight of Mara, nude and aroused was more than enough of an invitation for Beth to indulge in her long neglected bi side, the short, plump Middle Eastern beauty being her first woman lover in several years. Again, it all had seemed so natural, so perfect.

She smiled again, then turned to look at Debbie, who was splayed, in a similar chair across the room. And for her best friend to have been there. She had always considered Debbie beautiful, but had never desired her.

But the two of them, Beth and Mara, gently crushing Deb’s body between them, their breasts warming her, their hot breath enveloping her in a haze of lust, the wetness of Deb’s inner thighs as her quim ran hot, was a memory she would never forget.

And she wanted more. Already happily surrendered to her fate, Beth was prepared to take this erotic ride where it would, no matter the destination.

Debbie groaned, and vainly tried to rise, only to slump back into the irresistibly comfy chair. Her mind felt like a blank slate where an unseen hand was writing, inscribing new thoughts and ideas into her head.

She gritted her teeth, still trying to fight the soft, insistent, sexy music that was making it so difficult to think, and the smell of the hot pink incense that was setting her cunt on fire.

“What..is...happening,” she groaned to herself.

She remembered how dreamy and dopey Beth had sounded when Debbie answered her cell phone, how she had called a strange cab service for her to use.

Debbie gasped and sucked in her breath, climaxing when she recalled the image of the beautiful and smiling Mara, her mysterious Middle Eastern kidnapper who had seduced her in the back of the cab, forcing Debbie down an often thought of yet never explored road of Sapphic lust. Then, before her befuddled mind could recover, her best friend and Mara had seduced her, the two women pleasuring her in such variety and ways that Debbie had scarcely believed it possible.

Now she was being brainwashed, programmed to think of nothing but the arousal the music and scents had on her. She slowly moved her head back and forth, but she failed to remove the beguiling images from her mind, herself in a belly-dancers outfit, performing for an audience of horny, entranced men, her body an instrument of desire that she would play to win them over, to control their wills.

Yet, would she ever control her own? And, would she ever want to?

Just then, the music stopped.

It took Debbie a few minutes to regain her senses, then she slowly removed the gigantic headphones, her arms feeling as if she was moving through soup.

She managed to stand up, then drunkenly move towards her best friend, who still sat there, eyes closed and mouth open.

Debbie gingerly removed Beth’s headphones, then spoke, her voice dry and quivering.

“Beth? Beth, please, wake up. It’s me, Debbie.”

Beth slowly opened her eyes, then grinned slyly at her confused and frightened friend. “Hi, Deb. Did you sleep well?”

“Beth, please, we have got to get out of here. That woman, she, she’s done something to us, she’s controlling us. We have to...”

“We don’t have to do anything, Deb. We don’t have to do anything at all. We don’t even have to think. Doesn’t it feel good not to have to think, even for a little while? Don’t you like the way you feel?”

Debbie was conflicted, torn between her desire for freedom and the inescapable fact that she had indeed enjoyed what had transpired. She had come like a faucet when here dark lover had taken her there in the cab, taken her with a confidence and presence that would have humbled any man. She had also enjoyed the taste and touch of the women upon her.

Seeing her hesitate, Beth worked her hands up over Debbie’s arms, slowly pulling the strong blonde towards her.

Debbie hesitated for an instant, then sighed in surrender as her lips found Beth’s yet again.Her willpower ebbing, she moaned deeply as Beth’s knowing fingers found her honeypot, deftly fingering her until her body shook and she collapsed onto the still prone Beth.

Beth held her face and stroked her hair. “They want to be happy, Milo and Mara, they want us to be happy. Look,” she said, pointing to a nearby table, “They left us clothes.”

Confused, frightened, yet undeniably aroused, Debbie turned to see two stunningly revealing harem outfits, their bright sequins and colors crying out for attention, calling to her, inviting her to dress up, to play, to be taken somewhere.

Beth turned her lover and friends face back to hers, then kissed her deeply again. “Come Debbie, let’s see where this takes us,” she whispered huskily.

“Jeez Louise, I thought that doorman would never let us in,” Gail said exasperatedly. “Can you believe him? We see that cab pull into the garage of this building and he tells us that no one here has a cab. Then, he says that someone does, but that he can’t let us in because he has to talk to Security. We’re cops, for God’s sake, we ARE security!”

“He was a nervous one, alright, I guess we spooked him,” Lydia agreed. “I didn’t like having to threaten him with a phone call to Immigration, but it worked. So, how do we want to do this? Good cop, bad cop?”

“No, let’s go in together, introduce ourselves, and ask a few questions. We don’t really have a lot to go on as it is,” Gail replied.

“ Alright then. Nice place, though,” Lydia said, her eyes scanning the fancy elevator. “You know, we are so near the UN, how do we know that this cab company hasn’t ripped off other dignitaries, ambassadors, what have you?”

“We’ll soon see,” Gail said, the dynamic duo stepping out into a plush hallway. Then she realized something.

“Lydia, there address is PH1. Penthouse 1. These guys own the whole floor!”

“Hmm, maybe we should have gone into the cab business. Well, knock knock,” Lydia said sarcastically, banging the door knocker louder than necessary.

A moment later, a stunningly handsome Arabian man opened the door. He was at least six-foot, with olive skin, dark black hair, and dark, shining eyes, eyes that twinkled in a way that suggested that he was the possessor of a secret secret.

He smiled broadly at the cops. “Good afternoon, officers, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Lydia was momentarily startled, and a little turned on, by the handsome man, but Gail answered curtly. “Good afternoon, I’m Officer Noonberry and this Officer Vasquez. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your cab service.”

“Of course, please come in, I have nothing to hide,” the man smiled again, ushering the stunning policewomen into his apartment, locking the door behind them.

Gail and Lydia tried unsuccessfully to hide their awe at the sight of the luxurious penthouse. Huge bay windows gave on a spectacular view of the skyline. The living room was filled with overstuffed chairs, couches, and pillows. There was a fireplace, a bar, and an entertainment center that must have cost thousands, much more than even the most successful cab drive could afford.

The man smiled again. “My name is Miro. Welcome to my home. Please, sit down.”

The women sat on one of the couches, their bodies sinking back into the cushions. They eyed each other warily, as if a little surprised by the friendliness of their host.

Miro sat across from them, then playfully slapped his forehead. “But I have forgotten my manners,” he admonished himself. He clapped his hands together. “Mara!” he called out.

A moment later, Mara entered.

Lydia and Gail both stared in amazement, Gail even gasping a little as the fantastically beautiful woman entered the room.

She was wearing a mesh bra and panties outfit that offered the viewer a good portion of her anatomy. See-through veils graced her breasts and thighs.

But it was her eyes that held ones attention. They were dark and shiny, too, and seemed to promise heavenly delights to all that looked into them.

“My wife, Mara,” Miro said, proud of her entrance and of the effect she had on the two women.“Mara, these are Officers Vasquez and Noonberry.”

Mara smiled, revealing a set of dazzling white teeth. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. May I offer you something to drink? It is a hot day, and you must be very uncomfortable in those cumbersome uniforms. So very hot and uncomfortable.”

Gail squirmed a little, for she did feel a little hot. She ignored the thought that it was this dazzling woman who was making her feel lightheaded, then spoke again.

“No, thanks. We’d like to ask you a few questions....”

Mara gently interrupted, chiding her husband. “Miro, how could you not think to show our guests all of the comforts of our home? Perhaps you could show Officer Vasquez around our humble abode, while I answer Officer Noonberry’s questions.

“But of course, Mara, of course,” Miro said, standing up and offering his hand to Lydia to assist her from the couch. “Please come with me.”

Lydia and Gail looked at each other, then nodded. Perhaps the couple would be easier to question if they were separated.

“Alright, but we can’t stay long,” Lydia said, taking Miro’s hand as he helped her from the couch.

Mara smiled as they left the room, then turned her attention to the young blonde American policewoman before her.

Beth and Debbie ran their hands over their bodies, relishing in the sexy feeling of the silk against their flesh, and the wonderful way the chain mail undergarments called attention to their frames. They looked at each other, than embraced again, kissing each other deeply. Then, they heard the music. Slowly at first, then gradually getting louder, the thumping drums and finger bells were in a faster, louder tempo than the music in the cab and headphones had been. This music went directly into their nipples and clits, tingling their sensitive spots and urging them to dance, to lose themselves in the music, to drown in it, to be swept away by their emotions and desires.

They moved together, their bodies responding to subliminal commands that made them move in belly dance.

Debbie grinned with pleasure as she watched herself in the large, full-length mirrors that lined the walls, her taut stomach muscles rippling as she undulated back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She soon forgot where she was, and why she was, seeking only to revel in the pleasure of the now.

Beth too was lost, and minded not at all. Her small but voluptuous body threw sweat through the air as her bosom bounced and heaved.

Together, they became lost in ecstatic dance.

Miro beamed at Lydia as they walked down a hallway covered with expensive, erotic paintings. He was obviously pleased with his impressive display of wealth, and could see that Lydia, despite her objective demeanor, was impressed as well.

“What exactly do you do, Miro?” Lydia asked, remembering why she was there, and cursing herself for being so easily swayed by this handsome man.

Yet there was something else about him, too, something that was more than sexy. He was so confident, and charming, and smelled so good that Lydia was hard pressed to keep her hands off him. He was touching her in a basic way that was distracting her from her work. She hoped that small talk might give her an edge over her feelings, and that maybe he would say something to reveal himself to her.

“My wife and I own a small restaurant in Astoria that caters to a select clientele. In addition, I drive a gypsy cab occasionally,” Miro said, taking Lydia’s arm and leading her into a large, darkened room.

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about your cab company,” Lydia said. “We once received a robbery complaint, and...”

Miro laughed heartily. “A robbery complaint? As if my wife or I would stoop to such chicanery! Officer Velasquez, I assure you that my wife and I are honest, humble business people. But please, may I show you something?”

Before Lydia could even answer, Miro had turned on the lights, revealing a lushly decorated room with white shag carpet, a large examining table centered in the center. A small but powerful looking stereo was attached to the top of the underside of the table.

Miro smiled, and pushed a button on the wall next to the light switch.

In a moment, the wall facing the table opened, revealing a large glass mirror that reflected the goings on in the next room.

Lydia gaped at two women in the room, two beautiful women, obliviously dancing.

Miro’s voice came up behind her, causing her to almost jump. She made a mental note to stay more focused, yet found her senses confused.

“In addition to our restaurant, my wife also teaches Middle Eastern dance. These are two of our newest students. They have both taken quite a liking to her lessons. ”

Miro led the confused young officer closer to the glass, so much so that they were almost touching it.. “Look at them, Lydia, are they not beautiful? They are lost in dance, trance dance. Lost to the beats and sounds of wonderful music. If you lean against the glass, you can almost feel the vibrations. Lean against the glass, Lydia. Feel the music.”

Miro stood behind Lydia. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he gently pushed her against the glass.

Before Lydia could protest, she felt the vibrations of thumping bass tremble through her.

Thrummm.....thrummmmm.......thrummm.. The bass echoed through the glass and through her. She found herself pressing closer, her heaving bosom crushed against the glass, staring wide-eyed at the two beautiful women, still dancing wildly, sweat flying from their bodies.

Miro’s whispers burned in her ear. “Relax, Lydia, feel the vibrations. Feel the deep, hot, sound. Watch the pretty girls and be taken away, taken away. Watch and be taken away.

She felt his strong hands on her shoulders, firmly massaging her, his nimble fingers working her muscles and nerves. She felt her shoulders sag, and her breathing became shallow. “No, wait...” she whispered weakly.

Behind her, Miro continued to whisper. “See how they move? Watch as their bodies move back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Relax and watch them. Relax and watch. Relax, relax, relax.”

Lydia couldn’t move. She felt paralyzed, and aroused. She feared she might faint if she did move. Try as she might, she could not take her eyes off the women.

She felt Miro’s member against her rear, gently moving against her. His fingers now moved to her gun belt, which fell to the floor with a soft thud. Then his hands were on her crotch, deftly unzipping her pants and pulling them to the floor.

Lydia opened her mouth to speak, then gasped as she felt Miro enter her, filling her with his manhood, his hands now unbuttoning her blouse and massaging her huge breasts. She was frozen in place, her eyes not moving from the sensual sight before her, but her body was moving, squirming from her lover’s deft movements.

Miro moved back and forth, pulling himself nearly out of Lydia’s warm insides before entering her again. Over and over he repeated the slow, sexy rhythm, Lydia’s juices running down her legs in response.

Just then, Debbie and Beth embraced each other, their mouths hungrily probing each other.

Lydia gasped, then again as she orgasmed, then another orgasm as Miro bucked and pushed behind her, grunting in pleasure as he came inside her.

It did not stop there. Miro fingered her clit as he came and Lydia cried out it pleasure. Her body slumped against his.

Miro quickly swooped her up, then carried her to the table, laying her prone. He placed a set of headphones on her, then pushed a button under the table.

Belly-dancing music filled Lydia’s ears. On the ceiling just at eye level was a shimmering strobe light, which blinked on and off in time to the beat in her ears.

Miro stripped her naked, then tied her spread eagle with silken scarves he pulled from under the table. Gently kissing her, he smiled and left the room.

Lydia stared at the light; her mind absorbing the commands imbedded in the music.

Gail smiled self-consciously as Mara stood before her, smiling down at her. “While my husband attends to your partner, let me attend to you,” she said, a little wickedly.

She walked over to the nighttable near the couch where Gail sat, and pulled a stick of incense out of the drawer, as thick around as her index finger.

Lighting it from a candleholder that was shaped like a nude woman, she placed the stick in a holder, then pressed a button on a small black remote control box that was next to it.

Soon the room was filled with Middle Eastern dance music.

Gail blushed slightly as the stunning woman before her began to sway to the seductive beat of the music. She moved as if she was part of the music itself, her body instinctively responding to the beats and thumping rhythm.

As she watched, Gail found herself becoming very warm. She opened the first two buttons of her blouse, unknowingly displaying ample cleavage.

Mara spoke as she danced. “My husband and I come from Karfinistan, a small village on the Egyptian border. Ours is a small and poor village, so we came to America to find a way to help our people.

As she danced, her eyes never left Gail’s, who found herself becoming lost in the deep, dark, brown eyes of her entertainer.

“My husband drove a cab, and I danced in clubs, until we saved enough money to open a small restaurant in Queens.” She danced and weaved, then suddenly removed her top, her smashing bosom bouncing to the beat, beads of sweat flying everywhere.

Gail gaped in awe. Her body was hot and sweaty. Still staring wide-eyed at the beautiful vision in front of her, she failed to notice the thick cloud of pink incense smoke that was curling around her feet, moving its way up her legs, causing every part of her body it touched to become hot and aroused.

Mara smiled knowingly as she watched Gail squirm, her blouse now soaked with sweat, her breath panting, flinging her utility belt to the floor.

“The incense is made from an old family recipe,” Mara said, swiftly doffing the rest of her harem outfit, dancing before Gail only in see-through veils. “My family have been dancers for generations. The incense helps one to relax, to feel good happy.”

She moved even closer to Gail, her body sleek and shining. “And don’t you feel good, my pretty American girl? Don’t you feel happy?”

“Nooo... I...” Gail gasped, kicking off her shoes and violently pulling down her pants. " I.... feel...so...hot!”

Mara smiled. “Then let me,” she said.

In a flash, Mara flung her veils away, and launched herself onto her dazed spectator.

Gail arched her back as Mara’s mouth found hers. Her mind flashed a buried image from college, when she made out with one of her sorority sisters following a drunken happy hour. The two had laughed about it afterwards, but Gail remembered how unique it felt, the touch of a woman’s lips upon her own. She had never indulged her Sapphic side since, but now, with this dazzling beauty thrusting her tongue down her throat, she surrendered to her desires, and allowed Mara to seduce her.

Mara deftly removed Gail’s bra, kissing and licking her nipples, her tongue painting visions of delight on Gail’s bosom as her hand found Gail’s dripping snatch. “We only take from those who can afford to lose,” she murmured. “Seducing beautiful American women is a pleasure. Oh, how I love your beauty, my blonde American girl! Your hair is like corn, so yellow and bright. Let me love you, my beautiful one.”

Gail gasped again as Mara licked her way down her belly, then once more as a sheaf of hot pink incense smoke snaked its way down her throat. Her eyes blurred as Mara licked her oozing honeypot, Gail’s fingers snaking their way through Mara’s hair.

First one orgasm, then another, then another still racked Gail’s body. She was helpless before this bombardment of erotic sensations, and Mara was a knowing teacher, guiding Gail to a world of pleasure, a world of sex without guilt, where all was pink and smoky and hot and loving.

Following another orgasm, Mara mounted Gail, the two women grinding their sex into the other. She screamed in ecstasy, their quim mingling, becoming one.

Soon Gail followed suit, furiously 69ing her new lover, eating her with raw abandon. Time lost all meaning, as the music and smoke burned its way into her, leaving her only with the desire for more and more physical pleasure.

At long last, Gail slumped against Mara, collapsing into her older mentor’s arms. She breathed raggedly, as Mara stroked her face, cooing and relaxing her.

“Shhhhhhhhh, my beautiful one, shhhhh.....Relax yourself. You are so tired, so sleepy, so sleepy...sleep, my pretty American bird, my pretty one. Sleep.”

Gail tried vainly to resist, but Mara placed a finger against her mouth. She felt her eyes becoming heavy, so very heavy. With a sigh, her eyes closed, and she drifted off into a world of erotic dreams.

Mara smiled, then gently eased herself from under Gail, the young cop’s body lying heavily upon the huge sofa. She opened a drawer on a nearby nighttable, and removed a set of headphones, which she then placed on Gail’s head.

Mara smiled again, and sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You were right along, my dear. My husband’s cab puts one to sleep. The money goes to our village, and, admittedly, some of it goes to our home and business. A business you will soon desire to become part of.”

Gail murmured in her sleep, the music working its way into her subconscious.

Miro emerged from the back room. The two embraced, then Mara laughed with delight as Miro hoisted her into the air, carrying her into their bedroom.

Gail yawned and stretched, smiling with delight at the flurry of erotic images that flooded her waking mind. Her lips found another’s, and she dreamily kissed.....Lydia?

“Hmmm....Gail, wake up! It’s me, Lydia!”

Gail eyes flew open. “What the...what happened?”

Lydia’s face flushed as the two women untangled themselves from their embrace. “What happened is that our suspects seduced us, I think. What do you remember?”

Gail paused, then blushed deeply as she remembered. “The woman, Mara, she danced for me, and, and.....we made love.”

She paused again, then spoke. “And it was fantastic.”

Lydia nodded. “Miro fucked me, too. But there’s something else. I feel this.... desire, this command, to go to Queens. Why is that?”

“Their club. They want us to come to their club,” Gail said. “They want us...” she shook her head, the final cobwebs of lust falling from her mind.

Lydia spoke quietly. “No one can ever know about this.We, Gail, we’re back in our police car! It.... shoot, it’s been almost five hours since we came.....where are we?”

Gail looked around. “They drove us to the East Village. We’re under the Williamsburg Bridge.”

The two women sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Lydia spoke. “We have to go there. I’ve never been to their place. I don’t even know what it is called, but I feel that if I don’t go, I’ll never feel the way I felt in their apartment again. It was wonderful. No one, they, he....God, what have they done to us?”

“I don’t know, but this has to be on our time. We’ll go Friday after work,” Gail said.

Then, she looked down, and guiltily removed her hand from in between her partner’s legs, Lydia now blushing in hidden pleasure.

Miro and Mara stood naked over the sleeping and smiling forms of Beth and Debbie, the two friends deep in sleep, happy grins on their faces, their headphones piping heavily laced subliminal into their minds.

“Soon, we will have four new dancers for our club,” Miro said.

Mara nodded, and laughed. “And the law on our side, as well.”