The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bad Dog

By SleepyTimeSlut

The doorbell rang when I’d only been home a few minutes. It was about half an hour too early to be my wife, and visitors were unusual, but I was only slightly puzzled as I went toward the front door and the moment that changed my life forever.

Just before I touched the knob, the door flew open with a bang. I took several steps backward rapidly as SHE came storming into the living room. She must have just been waiting for my shadow to fall over the peephole, to make a dramatic entrance.


My ex strode toward me, all fire and fury, one word per step. “You dumb. Cheating. Mutt. I told you you hadn’t seen the last of me. Bad dog.”

“What the hell are you doing—”

She raised one finger. “Sit-TT,” she said, hitting the T hard, the way you would with a dog.

I sat. Like, instantly. My knees hit the floor, then my butt. Then my palms on the floor. I looked up at her, a little incredulous, and a lot scared.

Natasha was an auburn-haired little minx, with slightly green-blue eyes that used to pierce right into me—they were doing it now, pinning me to the floor. I wondered if she still had those beautiful, tempting curves, but couldn’t tell because of her long black coat. She was normally only a little shorter than me, at around 5-foot-6 or 7, but with me crouched on the carpet, she towered over me as she seldom had when we were together. The black boots, that came over her knee and had a sizeable heel, were part of it; but a big part of it was the attitude, as she stepped closer to me, looking down imperiously. She was majestic, and cruel, and enjoying it. I could almost smell brimstone as her black-clad form stood before me, radiating righteous fury, gazing down at the man on all fours like a disobedient but well-trained puppy.

“Good boy,” she cooed, and smiled.

I licked my lips. “I don’t understand,” I said, in a gentler tone.

She gave a dry little chuckle. “Hmmph. Just what I said when I found out you were cheating on me.” She started walking around me. “Just what I said when I found out how often. And with who!”

“Uh, whom, I think.”

“Silence!” She cuffed me on the back of my head. My mouth clamped itself shut.

She kept walking. “I gave you everything. And it wasn’t enough for you. Because you are a horny, stupid, hound dog. A mongrel bitch in heat. You cannot leave women alone. You cannot behave; you can’t. Be. Trusted.”

She stopped in front of me. “Take your clothes off.”

I made a surprised little questioning noise in my throat.

“You heard me. Off. Now.”

I struggled to obey, silently, wondering why I was doing this, wondering why I was silent ...

“You received a mailer for a local hypnotherapist. One free session, just the thing to help you with a little weight loss. I knew that would hook you, you were always worried about your little pudge. Oh. Sorry, you can stand up for this... So after a successful first session, that made you feel soooo good, you knew you had to return. Had to see the doc once a week, and let him root around in your brain. Implant some triggers. Some behaviors I wanted, and locks only I had the key for. You didn’t know that, of course. All you knew was that you loooved being hypnotized, and you were feeling sooo much better about yourself.”

Her sarcasm was dripping out of every stretched vowel.

“Well, that all ends today. I don’t want you feeling good about yourself. Not at all.”

I stood before her, feeling more than naked under her shriveling gaze. I didn’t look bad, I thought, though bright light wasn’t my friend ... a programmer’s body, you could say. Bit of a gut. Otherwise, hairless chest, close-cropped dark hair, and a pubic bush that is ... well, bushy. It pretty much completely hides my manhood when soft, and boy was I soft now.

I am ... not well endowed. Just over 3 inches when I’m hard—believe me, I’ve measured it again and again—and less than 2 when I’m limp. I wanted to cover myself, but didn’t feel ... allowed.

She looked down, and smirked. “I see that’s as pathetic as it ever was. Before I do anything else, I want to try something.”

She undid the knot on her sash and opened her long black coat. And instantly I fell in love again. Her curves stood out, pale against the black coat, framed and shaped by a black push-up bra and black lace panties, her creamy thighs disappearing into those majestic black boots.

I got hard as a rock in seconds. A tiny, tiny rock.

“There it is! I knew it was hiding in there somewhere ...”

She stepped forward and stroked its length with one finger. Which didn’t take long. A little drip leaked out the tip.

“How gratifying to know that I still have that effect on you,” she purred. “Good boy. Now ... " She leaned closer to whisper: “That’s the last erection you’re ever going to get for a woman ...”

I whimpered like a kicked dog.

“You may speak.”

“Why? Why are you doing this? Do you want me back?”

“Ha! Let that little baby carrot near my heavenly pussy ever again? Not on your life ... No, this is about my revenge, you cur. This is about making you crawl, dragging your balls on the carpet. This is about punishing you for being the stupid, dumb, horny mutt you are and always will be. Making you face what a dirty dog you are. You cheated on the wrong woman, you mangy beast.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve said I was sorry a hundred times ...”

“Bad dog!”

I stopped, as if slapped.


Down on my haunches again, naked and hard.

“Good boy.”

She ran her hand over my short hair, scratched behind my ear. I leaned into her touch, involuntarily.

“My hypnotist friend spent the last few months training you. Training you to think of yourself as a dog. A bad boy, but one who so wants to be a good dog. And you never even remembered any of it—not consciously, anyway. That’s what really makes me laugh! You have no idea what was being done ... but your unconscious mind remembers every important word ...”

She drew my nose close to her lacy crotch. I could smell her, I thought. Smell her arousal.

“Your slut of a wife will be home soon. That bitch you needed so desperately to cheat on me with. Well, that’s done, sugar. You’re not getting hard for her ever again.”

I yelped. She smiled cruelly down on me.

“Bad dog. From now on, the only woman who arouses you is me. The only human woman. You will get hard for this pussy, but no one else’s ... especially your wife’s. But ... animals will turn you on.” She pressed my face closer against her panties. “Pictures of dogs, a calendar of kittens, a film about a panther—heh heh—will get you hard. Even thinking about a sleek, sexy jaguar or massive gorilla will get you so aroused, you’ll need to start stroking that tiny dicklet you call a cock. Do you understand?“

I nodded, my nose scraping the lace.

“Good boy.”

My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I felt a wave of happiness. I was a good boy! Wait ... why did that please me so much?

“Follow me,” she said, and I crawled after those boots on all fours as she found the kitchen, got a bowl, filled it with water, and put it on the floor. “Now,” she said. “You’re going to drink out of that like the dog you are.”

I looked at the bowl, my head tilted. I was?

“Bad dog,” she said, and I was suddenly filled with shame, and a desire to please. “Drink your water. Drink until your wife comes home. As soon as she comes in you’ll have your speech, and your mind, back. That should be interesting.” I started lapping up the water, helplessly. “Good boy.”

I wiggled my ass happily, and that seemed to please her.

“I’ll show myself out,” I heard her say, as I concentrated on the bowl of water. My cock still felt achingly hard, and I’m pretty sure I was dripping. “Oh, and puppy?” I paused.

“I’ll be back.”

* * *

When the front door opened again, less than 5 minutes later, and I heard Lily’s voice, I seemed to come awake. What the hell was I doing? I was crouched on the kitchen floor stark naked, my chin all wet, my face in a bowl of water? And where were my clothes? I remembered where they were, even how they got there, but I couldn’t make sense of the sequence of events. Why had I let Natasha do these things to me? Why had I done as she commanded?

“Tom? Some reason your clothes are in a heap in the middle of the living room?”

Fortunately I was able to get into the bathroom from the kitchen unseen. I wrapped myself in a towel and emerged. “Sorry honey I was just getting in the shower, what did you say?”

She looked at me suspiciously. “Your clothes?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, it’s just so hot outside. Couldn’t wait to take ‘em off.”

She squinted at me for a moment. “Uh huh.”

Back in the bathroom, I leaned against the door and dropped my towel. Limp again. Good. Got away with it. Somehow. I stepped into the shower, replaying the scene in my mind and trying to figure out how it happened. Did she have a special code word or something? Nothing I could remember ...

But it had something to do with Dr. Carter ...

* * *

That night, trying to make love with Lily was even worse than usual.

I love my wife. She’s a gorgeous BBW, brown hair and blue eyes, 5-foot-5, with enormous breasts I could suckle on all day. She loves that—which is a good thing. Because she definitely sometimes feels ... dissatisfied with my performance in other areas.

“Ugh! Can you—is it even in?”

She reached down and took it one hand, stroking it.

“You are completely soft. Do we not want to do this right now?”

“No, I do, I do, just—give me a minute. I got this.”

I started stroking my limp little dick with one finger and thumb—about all I can get on its, let’s say, modest length.

“A minute is about all I ever get,” she groused.

I’m no stud in terms of stamina at the best of times. I can maaaaybe give her 4 or 5 minutes, but that’s only by pulling out every trick in the book. Baseball and nuns, mom, whatever. Now, of course, I didn’t want to think about baseball. I needed to think about hot sexy women getting fucked by hot sexy men. I needed to think about my beautiful big-breasted wife. But nothing.

Suddenly I flashed on Natasha’s pussy. I could smell it, just for a second. My dicklet surged, just for a second. Then that was gone too. Dammit! I was a bad dog.

Bad dog.

I thought of a golden retriever, bounding through the greenest meadow, her coat glowing in the sunshine.

Instant erection! Almost painfully hard! Yes! I jammed it into her pussy, grabbing her thighs, slamming into her. Even if she wasn’t going to feel me hitting very deep, at least she’d feel my pelvis smacking into her over and over. I thought of that beautiful dog, again. Ohh, she was gorgeous.

What was this? No—no—not so soon! Already?

Quick, baseball. Mom. Nuns ... ha ha little nuns in black and white ... yes ... little penguins .....


... Shit.

“... Seriously?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. At least it didn’t take long. Hand me my Doxy, then come here and suck on my tit like a good boy.”

Good boy.

Did she really call me a good boy, or did I imagine it? Either way, I sprang to obey her, and felt good about it.

But as she approached her own orgasm some 15 minutes later, I thought:

“... PENGUINS??”

* * *

Life continued as normal for a few days. At least as normal as I could manage. Whenever a dog food commercial came on TV, I’d have to adjust myself. The neighborhood suddenly seemed to be full of people walking their dogs, and I had to fight down urges to get on all fours and sniff them. I saw the cover of a Lion King DVD and almost came in my shorts.

And of course I couldn’t say anything to Lily. I remembered about Natasha, mostly—though I felt there were gaps—but what could I say? How would I explain? “My ex hypnotized me to be aroused by animals and to think I’m a dog.” I didn’t know how to begin, so I didn’t say a word. Maybe it would go away.

But I was growing increasingly aware that other feelings were growing in me. I was following my wife from room to room. I ached to serve her better. I wanted to be ... well, I wanted to be a good dog. And part of me knew I wasn’t.

I wanted—no, I needed—to be brought to heel.

Lily was probably not going to be able to do it. But I needed her to figure out how to do it. Because if not ...

I knew Natasha would soon be yanking on my leash again.

* * *