The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Danielle collapsed over Dover’s lap in a sated stupor. There was a drizzle of semen on her thigh.

He moved out from under her and walked over to where Julie sat on the other couch, watching him with silent horror and hate. He plopped down next to her like an old friend. “How’s that hay fever?,” he asked.

Her chin trembled and tears flooded her eyes. “It—It ...” she fought to contain the words. “It’s better,” she finally sobbed.

“Stop crying. Dry your tears.”

She blinked, wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“Smile.”

He could tell she was fighting it, but as he watched a trembling smile formed at the corners of her mouth, then stretched full and wide until she was beaming at him. It was a shallow, salesgirl’s smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but managed to light up her face all the same.

“Very nice. You have a stunning smile. Take down your hair for me.”

She reached behind her head and removed the plastic clip, then combed her blonde hair down with her fingers. It spilled over her shoulders and down her back. She continued to smile at him.

“Now, let’s pick up where we left off in the elevator and discuss your feelings for me.”

He was interrupted by a firm knocking from the front door. Dover spun his head towards the vestibule. The knock repeated.

He took a quick inventory of the room: a naked girl lying dazed on the sofa, making soft moaning sounds with the memory of recent pleasure, while occasionally murmuring something about hating someone. Another beautiful woman sitting nearby, smiling pleasantly at nothing in particular.

If there was a female on the other side of the door, he could fix matters easily. But if it was a man, he’d have no control, and the scene would be hard to explain.

“Stop smiling. Go into the bathroom and fix your makeup. Don’t lock the door, don’t make any loud noise, and don’t come out until I summon you.”

Julie’s smile faded. She rose gracefully and walk to the bathroom.

Karen checked her message pad to confirm the room number. “This is it. Maybe we should knock louder. It’s a large suite.”

Next to her the hotel security officer cupped his ear theatrically, then shook his head and with a wry smile aimed a thick finger at the peephole—just as it went dark for a second, then turned bright again.

“Oh, you’re good,” Karen laughed. Pretty cute, too, she thought. She heard a bustle from inside: the sound of someone concealing something?—or maybe just finding some clothes. Finally the door swung open.

“Can I help you?” The man was fully dressed, but the girl on his arm was in one of the hotel’s terrycloth robes. She smiled at them innocently. She was Karen’s age—beautiful, and young enough to be the man’s daughter. But Karen had seen that before.

“I’m sorry to bother you sir—”

“You work at the front desk,” he interrupted. “I saw you down there earlier.” He seemed strangely delighted. Was he actually flirting with her? Oh, gross.

“Yes sir,” she said with a professional smile. “That’s why we’re here. There was a report of shouting and some kind of noise in the hall, and we got a call from your room. Nobody was on the line.”

His eyes flicked between her and Bob, the security man, and he smiled apologetically. “Yes, I’m sorry about the call. We were ordering room service, and we got ... caught up in something else.” As if on cue, the blonde girl cuddled against him.

Bob addressed the girl directly. “So, everything’s okay here?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Everything’s great.”

There was something disquieting about the couple. Karen looked at the guest printout. “Are you mister... Roberts, then?”

The man hesitated. “Darling, wait here please,” he said to his companion. He stepped into the hall with them, as though to speak in confidence. He seemed harmless, but she didn’t like him so close.

“Honestly,” he continued, “everything is fine here. There’s nothing to worry about.”

His breath was sweet and pungent—like cloves, Karen thought, wistfully. She felt dizzy.

Everything is fine here. There’s nothing to worry about.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Sorry to have bothered you. Please enjoy the remainder of your stay.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your diligence.”

The man retreated into his room. As he closed the door, Karen saw the blonde girl fold her arms over her chest protectively, still smiling, but with a look of silent pleading in her eyes.

For a moment Karen wondered if she’d missed something important, but the budding thought withered and died in her head. Everything was fine here. There was nothing to worry about.

Julie watched herself in the mirror are she carefully applied mascara to her long eyelashes with delicate strokes. Fix my makeup. She eyed the results critically, blinking a few times, and set the applicator down on the counter. Her lashes looked great; her eyeliner was perfect; she had just the right amount of powder and blush.

She was free now to look around the bathroom for some means of communication. Shouting was out of the question. Had there been a window, she could write a note on a roll of toilet paper and throw it out. There wasn’t one, of course.

Her heart leapt as she spotted a small ceiling vent. Maybe she could tap out a quiet SOS that would be heard in an adjacent suite. She opened the drawers in search of a tool—something metal—but caught another glimpse of her reflection ...

Her lipstick was a mess. How had she missed that? Why did she have to see it now?

Fix my makeup. Her hands trembled in frustration as she opened her red lipstick and applied it carefully. She pressed her lips together, then made a kiss in the air.

She heard footsteps approaching outside—there would be no SOS. But something shiny in the drawer caught her eye. Her cuticle scissors. She couldn’t disobey him, but she could stab him in the eye and put a stop to this nightmare.

She palmed the tiny scissors just as the door swung open.

He stepped into the bathroom. “You’re in love with me,” he said.

The dizziness hit her again, but this time it was trailed by an endorphin thrill. Her heart leapt into her throat and she heard a small, surprised gasp escape her perfectly made-up lips.

I’m in love with him.

Suddenly, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him—this stranger who’d screwed her sister right in front of her, who’d humiliated them both. He was the one she wanted. Her legs turned to rubber. She gazed at his face and let the scissors fall from her limp hand to the floor. How could she possibly hurt him?

He barely glanced at the abandoned weapon and held out his hand to her. She took it and let him lead her into the living room. Maybe he would make love to her, like he did Danielle. She longed to be in his arms. She hadn’t felt this way since ...

“Oh no,” she stopped in her tracks, pulled her hand away and covered her mouth. “Oh God, David.”

He frowned. “So, I have a rival for your affections.” He moved close again. “You don’t care about David.”

A puff of sweet breath, and she felt her love for David evaporate. The man hadn’t even asked who he was.

“You’re completely, passionately in love with me,” he continued. “I’m the only one you want. Say it.”

“I’m completely, passionately in love with you,” she said truthfully. “You’re the only one I want.”

He smiled. Julie noticed for the first time that Danielle was standing by the sofa, an open robe hanging loose over her body. She was staring vacantly into space and murmuring something. Julie strained to hear.

“Dover is my god. Dover is my king. I love Dover. Dover is my god ...”

“As you can seen,” he said, “I’m in need of constant reassurance.”

“Oh, God,” Julie breathed. They were just playthings to him, doomed to play out whatever perverse whims bubbled up from his Id. “Please, make her stop. Let her go. You have me.”

He walked over to Danielle, touched her chin and tilted her face up towards his.

“Dover is my king. I love Dover. Dover is my god...”

“You can stop that now.”

She collapsed on the sofa with a quiet sob.

Julie watched her sister with concern as he walked back. Then he caressed her arm, and at his touch an electric current ran through her body to her most private parts. All thoughts of Danielle faded. She stepped into him, reached up and touched his face with her hands. She gazed into his eyes—such a beautiful gray. I’m completely in love with him. He’s the only one I want. She was grateful now that she’d taken such care with her makeup. She wanted to look good for him.

She kissed him passionately, her body aching with desire. She felt his erection push against her thigh through their clothes. All she wanted was to be naked with him, share herself intimately. She shrugged off the remains of her blouse then frantically removed her bra, her skirt, her panties. The room was cold and goose bumps broke out over her naked body. She didn’t care.

Julie unbuttoned his shirt, yanked it back over his shoulders and down off his arms, then started kissing his bare chest, tasting him with her tongue and leaving a trail of red lipstick blots on his skin.

“Stop,” Danielle croaked from the sofa. “You can’t do this to her. She’s supposed to be getting married today.”

“Hmmm. A pity,” he said. He reached down and touched the moistness between Julie’s long legs, sending another jolt through her body.

“Wait,” he said. He pulled away from Julie, and his eyes took in his surroundings as though seeing them for the first time—the suite, the Champaign. “This ... is the honeymoon suite,” he said.

Julie swallowed. “Yes. I mean, no. It was supposed to be. But I don’t want him now. I only want you.”

A bit of perspiration broke out above his lip. “Is it possible, then, that there’s a wedding dress nearby?”

“In ... in the bedroom,” said Julie.

“Show me. Both of you.”