The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Danielle found the female half of the wedding party at the hair salon. Her mother was on her cell phone, and she folded it shut as Danielle breezed though the door.

“Oh, thanks goodness. Where’s your sister? She’s fifteen minutes late and not answering her phone.”

Danielle moved close to her mother. “Everything’s okay,” she breathed. “Just sit down and get your hair done.”

Her mother blinked a few times, then sat herself in a chair next to David’s mother, whose hair was already up in pins. “Hi Danielle!”

“Hi Angela! Julie is right behind me.”

“That’s a relief. We were getting worried.”

The girls all said hello from their seats, their hair in various stages of beatification. Rich, the salon manager, introduced himself in a flutter of hurried warm wishes, and tried to guide Danielle to a vacant station. “If it’s okay, I’m going to wait until Julie gets here,” she said.

Not waiting for an answer, Danielle approached the nearest bridesmaid, a petite black girl Julie had roomed with in college. She touched her shoulder. “Oh, Carrie, you look great!”

“Thanks!,” Carrie laughed. “But I just sat down.” A hairdresser had sprayed water on her straight hair and was combing it out.

Danielle crouched next to her and lowered her voice to a hush. “Get up and come with me.”

She watched the internal struggle play over the girl’s face—the same small, futile battle of resistance that Danielle had fought and lost again and again that day. Carrie blinked rapidly and her hand rose to her temple. Then her face softened, her lips parted and she looked into Danielle’s eyes curiously. “Wh—where are we going?”

“Don’t ask questions. Just follow me wherever I take you.”

Carrie nodded and started getting up, ignoring the protestations of her hairdresser. Danielle moved down the line to another of Julie’s friends, a shapely brunette. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“That’s okay, we only met once. I’m Susan.” She smiled prettily.

Danielle leaned over her. “Susan, you’re going to get up and follow me now.”

Susan’s smile faded. She stood immediately and followed Danielle to the next chair—occupied by a beautiful redhead named Amber. Next to her was Laura, a statuesque blonde with short hair.

By the time Danielle had marshaled all four girls, Rich was in full lather. “Where are you going? We really don’t have time for this.”

Danielle stepped close to him. “Everything’s okay.”

“Everything is not okay, young lady.” She’d forgotten—her breath wouldn’t affect men. Dover had been quite specific. Something to do with pheromones. “Mrs. Anderson,” Rich continued, appealing to Danielle’s mother. “You told me we were on a strict schedule.”

“Everything’s okay,” Danielle’s mom sang from her chair.

“Bye now,” Danielle waved in his face, and led the four obedient bridesmaids out the door like a pied piper.

Karen straddled Dover on the couch, grinding passionately, arching her back and running one hand over her breasts and stomach. She’d proven true to her word—she was a vigorous and inventive lover. He’d enjoyed the soft firmness of her breasts as she squeezed his cock between them; warmth of her mouth as she wrapped it in her lips.

“Ohhh, God, yesss,” Karen groaned, her hands moving to her face.

Karen’s moans joined the duet of similar sounds coming from the other sofa, where Julie and the young chambermaid were making out passionately. Julie had become jealous and petulant when Dover walked in with his new playmates, so he distracted her by making her eager to tongue-wrestle the pretty Latina, and visa versa. Now everyone was happy.

“Harder,” Karen demanded. “Hurt me. Yesssss. Ohhhh ohhhhhhhh!” He felt her shudder around him as she let out a shriek of ecstasy.

He came with her. When her screaming and moaning subsided, she collapsed onto him, panting into his ear and trembling. He ran a hand down her spine. Her back was sweaty with exertion.

Then abruptly she pulled her face back and looked into his eyes with puzzlement, giving way slowly to something less pleasant. “Wh—what did I do? Oh my God!” She pulled herself off of him, jumped unsteadily to her feet and began casting around for her clothes, which were scattered on the floor.

She grabbed her panties and pulled them on over her still-wet pussy. “I can’t believe I did that,” she said angrily, as much to herself as to him. “What’s wrong with me?” She found her blouse and began buttoning it haphazardly.” And you!” She spun on Dover. “What the hell is wrong with you! I’m young enough to be your daughter. Jesus! Where the hell are my pants?”

It was Danielle’s commands, Dover realized. She’d filled the girl with the need to have sex with him, but nothing beyond that. With the need fulfilled, Karen was free.

He stood calmly, pulled up his pants and approached Karen. “Get away from me!,” she snapped.

“Relax. Take your clothes back off.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she said. She spotted her pants by the chair and scooped them up, then shot a contemptuous look at Julie and the chambermaid and shook her head. She stepped into her pant legs.

Dover checked his watch. As he’d feared, his time had run out. There was nothing he could do to keep Karen from leaving.

Fully, if messily, dressed, Karen marched through the vestibule to the front door, still grumbling bitterly. Her hair flipped as she turned to share a parting thought. “You’re a fucking pervert.”

She wrenched the door open and walked briskly out. It swung closed behind her with finality.

Dover considered his options. He’d be wise to leave before she got to the lobby. He glanced at Julie and the young housekeeper, so focused on each other that they’d paid not the slightest attention to the little drama. He wouldn’t even be able to make them stop to say goodbye.

Unless ...

He found Julie’s bag by the sofa and fished out the cell phone. He scrolled through the stored phone numbers until he found one labeled “Danielle.”

She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“It’s me. Where are you?”

“I just got here. I’m in the lobby. The girls are getting—”

“The young lady you sent up to see me is on her way down right now,” he interrupted. “Meet her at the elevator, and bring her back with you. Go quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

He flipped the phone shut and waited, watching the girls kissing. He poured some more Champaign.

After a few minutes he answered a knock at the door.

It was Danielle, beaming triumphantly. She stepped aside to admit a crowd of women. The first four looked confused. They were carrying identical light-blue dresses draped over hangers. The fifth was Karen. She was also carrying a gown, holding it up carefully so as to not drag it on the floor.

Karen glared at him balefully, but said nothing as she entered the room.

“She started shouting in the elevator, so I told her to be quiet,” Danielle said. “I, um, also made her carry my dress. I hope that’s alright.”

Dover’s eyes passed over the women, as though assessing chocolates in a tin. He licked his lips. “Excellent. Danielle, please tell them not to make a fuss or leave the suite. Have them change into their dresses in the living room. Karen can wear yours. No underwear.”

The four bridesmaids frowned at this, and looked him up and down with distaste. “Danielle, who is this?,” asked a striking redhead with green eyes. “Why did you make us come here?”

“Don’t make a fuss or leave the suite. Go in the next room. Change into your dress, and leave your panties off.”

In the confined space of the vestibule Danielle’s doctored breath reached all five women at once—Dover himself could smell the sickly sweetness. He watched them struggle against the commands, their pretty faces frowning and squinting.

Then they filed into the next room obediently, the black girl shooting him a look of discomfort as she passed. He admired their asses.

“You did well Danielle.”

She sparkled at the praise. “I belong to you now,” she whispered.

He kissed her lush mouth and squeezed her ass. After a moment, he led her into the living room with the others.

The girls were mostly undressed, and they made futile efforts to cover themselves when he entered. But their modesty was frustrated by their helpless determination to change into their gowns. He watched their bodies with admiration—the black girl’s ebony skin was flawless, and her breasts the most perfectly shaped he’d seen.

The tall brunette was squeezing her eyes closed as she pulled off her bra, trying to talk herself out of it in a low, husky voice: “Stop... stop... stop.” The icy blonde was racing through the changing process, determined to get it over with. The redhead was already in the dress, and was sliding her panties down her legs to her feet. Karen was fighting the commands, her movements as slow and mechanical as they were inevitable.

Once they were changed, Dover walked up and down the line of women and inspected them. The gowns were short, cocktail-length dresses the shimmering blue color of a frozen pond, accented with shoulder ties that made the girls look like presents waiting to be opened. Deep v-necks showed off their cleavage. Lovely by any measure, together the five girls wearing the identical dresses like uniforms amounted to a whole greater than the sum.

He stopped at the black girl. She was studying her naked feet, determined to avoid eye contact with him.

“You look so lovely in that dress. Look at me,” he said.

She shook her head tightly, sending little shudders though her still-moist hair. A few delicate drops of water sparkled on her shoulders.

He called Danielle over.

“Danielle, please persuade these beautiful women to enjoy my company.”

She nodded and started with the redhead, who protested softly. “Danielle, stop this now. This isn’t—”

“You’re madly in love with him. You have to fuck him.”

Her green eyes moved to Dover’s. “Oh, wow ...” she breathed. “I can feel it happening. That’s so weird.”

Danielle moved to the dark-haired girl, who had large breasts and a starlet’s face, red lip gloss that looked wet. “How are you doing this?,” she asked. “How are you controlling us. This isn’t—”

“Susan, look at him,” she pointed at Dover. The girl’s eyes moved to his. “He’s making you hornier than you’ve ever been in your life. You’d do anything to screw him. You have to have him.”

Susan began shaking her head in denial. But as Dover watched, her breathing grew heavy, and the revulsion in her gaze transformed into smoldering desire. She bit her lip thoughtfully, lost in some fantasy that undoubtedly involved fucking his brains out.

Danielle continued down the line, reaching the trembling black girl last.

“Carrie, it’s okay.”

Carrie calmed a bit and looked up at Danielle.

“You’re hopelessly, passionately in love with him.”

Carrie’s dark eyes flicked between Danielle and Dover rapidly, then settled on Dover.

He touched her cheek, and she broke into a shy smile. He bent and kissed her tenderly. She tasted of vanilla. Carrie kissed him back, tentatively at first, but then she rolled her tongue into his mouth and he felt the breath from her nostrils hot on his cheek. He ran a hand down her back to her ass, frictionless over her gown.

As he kissed her, the other girls gathered around in a great rustling of silk. In a moment they were all pressing on him, rubbing their bodies against his, kissing him wherever they could find a spot—the back of his neck, his hand, his ear, his feet.

Their hair brushed against his face on all sides, their perfume mixing together in a potpourri. One of them was on the floor, reaching up to massage his erection. He broke the kiss and looked down to see who it was. It was Karen. She was smiling up at him dreamily, Danielle’s dress snug over her body.

He gave Danielle more instructions, and she pulled her sister and the chambermaid apart and spoke some commands. The two girls bounded to their feet and joined the others in ravishing Dover—Julie’s wedding gown adding a complication to their efforts. The chambermaid spoke something loving in Spanish.

Everything was hair, and skin; breasts and arms; promises of devotion and sex carried by sweet breath and soft, feminine voices.

He led them into the bedroom.