The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With Just The Right Focus

Some people think that if you wish hard enough, you can make anything happen. That’s not always the case. At least, not in the sense that you think it is. Or maybe it is.

As a 40ish man with middling success, I thought life extraordinary was a destiny for someone else. I had some wonderful things. A wife who loved me. She was just as unspectacular as me. Not beautiful, not unattractive. But, I had no interest in sex with her anymore. I had a relatively healthy and happy family life nonetheless. I had a nice house in a nice neighborhood. I had a mid-level position with a giant company. The kind of job that provides a living. The kind where you toil in mediocrity somewhere between complete irrelevance and really mattering. All things you get when you play by the rules and work hard.

However, it all seemed to lack purpose. Larger purpose. I was missing the grand plan of my life and legacy. If you just go along, one day you wake up 70 or 80 with nothing to show for all you’ve done and only your children to truly grieve your passing. For most people, that is life. And it simply goes on and on. I wanted something more.

I tried different hobbies. I tried religion. I tried dedicating my time to improving my family life. All of it was wholly unfulfilling. That leaves your imagination to fill your time. That can be bad. Weird and strange fantasies, mostly sexual in nature, began to dominate my wandering daydreams. I finally came to realize that my entire world was out of my control. What I wanted was more control. I wanted to dictate and lead more than follow and obey, but was completely lost in how to make that happen.

So, I drank. A lot. And then it happened.

One night I was browsing through twitter on the couch, beer in hand, family safely asleep in bed, when I heard breaking glass. My peaceful little world was shattered. The sound of someone entering my house caused all of my energy to focus, entirely, on protecting my family. Two men dressed in dark clothes and masks stepped into my living room. I slowly stood and looked at them. No discern able features other than size. One was about 5′9″ or 5′10″. The other was much larger. He was at least 6′3″. They walked toward me. All my energy was focused on them. “Take what you want, but don’t hurt me or my family,” ran through my head again and again.

They paused as I moved between the men and the staircase to the kids’ rooms. The small one said “We’re going to take some things. We don’t want to hurt you or your family.” One man reached for my cell phone, the other for our laptop. I breathed heavily and struggled to contain my adrenaline. Our bedroom door began to open. It had to be my wife coming to investigate the sound. The large man turned toward her. “Get out of here! Run! Now!!!” I screamed to the men, though only in my head. I stepped toward her and before my mouth could respond with actual words, the two men dropped what they had taken and left. Quickly. At a sprint. My wife began sobbing and I rushed to comfort her, the immediate threat over.

I didn’t sleep that night. I took the opportunity to clean my rifle and shotgun, while assessing my ammunition inventory. All the while, the events of the evening were playing back in my brain. Every second, the smell of the candles by the staircase, the feel of my feet on the rug, the rush of fear, everything. It felt odd. There had been home invasions, but not in our neighborhood. And they did not end as well as this one. It was the contradiction of a lucky outcome to a horrible event. But, I didn’t understand why. If I were forced to have a break in, I couldn’t have scripted it any better.

The next morning, I packed myself full of coffee and tried to start the day. My wife went to work and the kids to school before I left the house. It was quiet. I figured the best course was to return to normalcy as quickly as possible. I drilled a spare piece of plywood over the broken window pane and left for work, high on caffeine.

On the way I stopped for gas. Two men were standing in front of the store. We’re they about the same size as the two from last night? I panicked and quickly tried to calm my nerves. I thought “it’s just coincidence...no way they stayed this close to a crime like that...” And tried to walk toward the front door of the gas station. As I got closer, my confidence frayed. I thought to the men, “just move away.” Surprisingly, they did. They stepped about 10 feet away from the front door and continued their conversation. Meanwhile, the counter was unmanned. After a couple of minutes wondering where the employee was, I stepped back outside. That’s when I noticed one of the two men wearing a shirt emblazoned with the gas station logo. I overheard him say that he had been at the station all night. Great. I was just jumpy. And felt like an idiot. Although, why hadn’t he come inside to help me? I just walked to my car, paid for the gas at the pump and left. That was strange.

I began to overanalyze everything. Did my mental commands cause the two men to say they wouldn’t hurt my family? And then to run? What about the gas station attendant? More likely, I was just crazy.

Still, crazy or not, my desire to control my life, the utter exhaustion from the previous night’s activities and simple curiosity made me want to try again. It was simple. Just make a mental command, an innocent one, and wait for the results. My boss was my first intentional target. He stepped into my office to see if I was alright. I thought “offer to get me coffee.” I was calmly chatting, but regularly sending out this message. To no avail. I was disappointed, but not surprised. His stay in my office extended to more than just a couple of minutes. My frustration level increased. Finally, I screamed in my head “Just get the fuck out of my office!” At that moment, my boss, who never utters a curse word, said “I better get the fuck out of your office and let you get to work.”

I was flabbergasted.

It appeared to have worked.

The next few days were spent experimenting. It seemed that focus was the key. Focus, in just the right, almost indescribable way, resulted in the subject taking my mental suggestion. I wondered if I had always had this ability. Did everyone have it and just not know it? Lots of questions swirled, not the least of which was how I would handle this new skill. There seemed to be certain limits to my ability to influence the subject. Some were more willing participants than others. There seemed to be a base instinct that prevented people from doing something that they perceived as dangerous, physically. But, generally, I could get people to do anything, given the right amount of concentrated effort.

I felt invigorated. I felt as if I could control my life again. I went from completely commonplace to supremely remarkable with one unlikely event. At first I used “it” for small monetary gain with no real malicious intent. I made a waitress leave me a tip. The cashier failed to ring up steaks at the grocery store. Things like that. As time went on, the depths of my greed seemed larger than really necessary. Mostly, though, I used it peacefully without affecting one victim too much.

Of course, it didn’t take long to realize that there were significant sexual potential in “it.” On a Thursday afternoon I went home at about noon. My neighbor’s wife, Mary, was in her front yard when I got there. I walked toward her and commanded her to invite me in for a soft drink. Mary was an unassuming dresser with a classy disposition. I’d often wondered what she was like in bed. She was a couple of years older than me. She wore loose-fitting blouses and pants that hid her well-shaped breasts and thin waist. I walked behind her as she entered her front door. My eyes followed the rhythmic sway of her hips as she stepped. She glanced back disapprovingly as my gaze moved from her ass to her eyes. Still, she had invited me in, so she continued into the kitchen and poured me a diet soda.

I commanded her to flirt with me, but to remain unsure of just why she was doing it. She brushed against me as she walked past to let her dog outside. She looked confused and unconfident as she touched her lips and laughed too much at my not-that-humorous observations about other neighbors. Then, I turned up the heat.

I had her unbutton two buttons on her blouse, exposing a plain white lace bra that contained two glorious globes. She gently traced her delicate fingernails across the top of her bra. Her breathing became shallower and her face flush and confused as she continued her “fuck me” dance of flirtation. She didn’t know why she was doing it, but she was doing an outstanding job of turning me on. I sat uncomfortably with a growing hard on pressing painfully on my jeans. Sensing my discomfort, she got up and stood behind me massaging my shoulders.

Giving in, I commanded her to kiss me. She did. Passionately. Then, she did something surprising. She apologized. She still didn’t know why she was doing what she was doing. I commanded her to lose her inhibition. To fuck me. This was my first clumsy attempt to use “it” as a tool to get sex. I use more subtle approaches now...sometimes.

She reached down and stroked the outline of my hard cock with one had while the other was untucking my shirt. I swiftly unbuttoned her blouse, exposing two perfectly sized breasts. She stepped back to remove her bra while I pulled my shirt over my head. When her bra came off, I was only slightly disappointed to see the natural sag in the breasts of a woman her age. They were still beautifully shaped, standing proudly atop her flat stomach. Her normally elitist disposition now completely replaced by a savage, base sexual craving. Her eyes remained on me as she reached for her belt. I slipped my jeans off while I watched the unceremonious unveiling of Mary’s plain white panties. She had worked hard to hide this wonderful figure. But it was certainly pleasant. Her skin was soft and smooth. The normally unexposed legs and torso were pale against the dark kitchen cabinets. Her panties quickly disappeared, exposing a neatly trimmed pussy. She was ravenous. She pressed forward and our teeth clicked as she fiercely and desperately explored my mouth with her tongue. My hard cock, finally free of it’s clothed trappings, pressed firmly against her soft skin.

Mary grabbed my hand and almost dragged me to the couch in her living room. She pushed me to a sitting position and fell to her kneels in front of me. Her aggression and confidence were surprising. Her skill at sucking a dick was unmatched in my experience to that point, or since. She grabbed my rigid shaft with her left hand while she arched her neck at a 90 degree angle to take one if my balls in her mouth. She sucked and licked beneath my scrotum to the shaft. Her passion was clearly felt. Her tongue worked quickly, but her head moved slowly, ensuring every inch of exposed flesh from my balls to the tip of my cock received the appropriate amount of attention. Finally, she engulfed my entire length, gagging only slightly. Mary’s head moved with rhythm and consistency as she extended her tongue to lick my balls with my dick lodged in her throat, the moving all the way to the top where she only slightly paused to take a breath. I could not have lasted three minutes of that.

Mercifully, she stood in front of me and eased her right knee to the outside of my left thigh. Grabbing my shoulders for balance, she straddled me entirely. Her cunt was slick and dripping. Whatever commands I had given her were apparently welcomed readily. Mary slid her wet lips against my dick, rubbing her clit against my engorged member first up, then down. Finally, she moved up and sank down taking in the full length of my cock.

It didn’t take much for Mary to cum. Her shuddering orgasm rattled me against the couch while her juices made a slippery mess between and on us and the couch. She only paused a beat to regain her composure and began to fuck me in earnest. It was dirty. It was unholy. It was unconstrained ecstasy. She rode me hard, alternating between bouncing up and down and grinding her pelvis against mine. Her tits, moistened by sweat, bounced and rubbed against my chest. She kissed with a fury I have never experienced. When I finally came, it was massive. All the unfulfilled sexual urges that mount during a marriage were being released. My body tensed. My cock exploded inside her. Mary pumped one last time and then slumped against me, my softening dick embedded deep inside her cum-filled pussy.

Neither of us moved for about two or three minutes. Finally, she seemed to remember that she didn’t know why she was doing this. Panic displayed from her entire being. She had probably never considered cheating on her husband. That was a great tragedy for a large number of men. She slowly rose, dislodging her cunt from my now limp dick, dripping cum on her carpet in the process. Still naked, she returned with one damp towel for me and one for the carpet. I watched her confused and naked body clean the carpet in front of me. The wet couch smelled of sex. I finally took mercy and commanded her to clean herself up and get dressed. When we were both dressed, I commanded her to remember this as a daydream, nothing more. I had innocently accepted her invitation for a soda and chatted amiably for a few minutes. She never had sex with me. But she would think about me, now.

The next day I didn’t bother to go to work. Why should I? I would continue to get paycheck and I could easily find money elsewhere. I stopped by Mary’s house again. She was happy to see me and invite me in. As we lay naked recovering from another round of sex, the front door opened. She scrambled for her clothes. No small amount of concern went through my mind as well. Into the living room stepped Mary’s daughter, Carol. Carol was a shy high school senior that we had used as a babysitter in the past. Her blonde hair was usually unkempt. Her braces made her appear more youthful than she really was. Her silhouette against the front door displayed the attractive and lithe figure of an athlete on the swim team. Thin hips, thin waist, small breasts. When she noticed me naked on the couch, there was a sharp inhale of the breath and something close to terror on her face. I commanded her to relax. I had to do the same with Mary as well.

Carol sat down in a chair facing the couch. Mary sat next to me and pressed her naked breast against my arm. Carol told us about her day while her mother started to pay more attention to my growing dick. I ran my fingers up and down Mary’s slit. Her daughter watched in amazement.

“What are you thinking, Carol?” I asked.

“Ummm, why are you guys doing this? It’s not right.”

I asked “Do you think this is sexy? A turn on? Do you like seeing your mom like this?”

“Not really,” she responded. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

I commanded her to find her mom and I attractive. I also commanded her to be completely comfortable naked around us. For Mary, there was more than a little work to make her accept that her daughter was simply a sex object. Ultimately, she relented. I was able to uncover the fact that Carol had slept with two different boyfriends, much to the surprise of her mother. She was experienced and loved sex.

I commanded Mary to get Carol excited. I lightly stroked myself while Mary kissed Carol’s smooth body. She finally settled on her completely shaven cunt, noisily lapping and sucking. Using her tongue to outline the pussy lips, sucking her clit, nibbling at her thighs. Her fingers rolled Carol’s nipples. Carol responded well. She did not take much convincing. I still believe she had feelings for her mom before this. Her back arched as first one, then two of her mon’s fingers slipped inside her youthful pussy. She leaned back and pressed her hips up, smothering Mary’s mouth and nose with her pussy.

I kneeded Mary’s breasts in my hands while she worked hard to make her daughter cum. I watched from behind Mary as Carol at once stopped moving, then quaked, her legs locked in orgasmic bliss, then raised her back once, twice, then a final time before collapsing and begging for Mary to stop.

I gently pushed Mary aside and climbed between Carol’s legs. I kissed her belly button. The scent of her juices was fresh and inviting. Her pale skin was flush from the orgasm. I sucked first one nipple, then another. Carol’s breathing continued deeply. I ran my hand though her hair, damp with perspiration, and pulled her toward me for a kiss. Carol returned the kiss with the same ferocity that her mother had the previous day. My throbbing cock was poised at the entrance to the young cunt. Carol pushed down, almost achingly, desiring me inside her. I had planted the seeds with Carol, but she was definitely a willing participant. I plunged deep in her. A sound came from deep in her throat. “Ungh” I pressed forward as Carol grabbed my ass and pulled tight, begging for harder thrusts. I glanced back to see Mary lazily rubbing her clit while watching me hungrily fuck her teenage daughter. Carol almost cried when she came. I did not stop. I used her unmercifully. She loved it. So did Mary. I finally came deep inside Carol.

We were all spent. It was ten minutes later when Mary’s husband Mark came home. To say he was furious would be a dramatic understatement. However, it didn’t take long to calm him down. He was almost happy to eat my cum out of his daughter’s cunt. He’s a nice enough guy, so I made sure he enjoyed that. I know that Carol loved having her dad’s tongue deep in her pussy.

This first set of experiences gave me an inkling of the depth of my depravity. The power that came with whatever “it” was exposed the true character of who I was. I didn’t always like it. I did learn to control it and to live with myself. Maybe I’ll tell you more about it some day.