The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The twins were pissed off and quiet when Jewel threw her coins into the MacKay bridge toll basket. She ignored them. It cost nothing but long term hearing loss to turn the music up. She danced her shoulders and swayed left and right as she limped through traffic and onto Barrington Street.

“We’ve got a room for tonight. Goddammit...” Barbara bitched. “Whatever you need to do we can drive to Montreal tomorrow.”

“A wasted day and an extra fourteen hours in the car? Whee…” Brandy sighed. “We want to go down four more blocks. I made contact through a friend of a friend to buy some molly off some girl at a coffee shop across from Dalhousie.”

“Dalhousie’s a few blocks up on University,” Jewel said.

“Sexton campus,” Brandy explained.

“I don’t know what that is,” Jewel answered. They stopped at the light. Ahead of her, a man with a black eye and a cast, a frizzy brown haired teen tomboy, and a bundled up professional fashionista crossed the crosswalk.

“Uh, girl? Green means go.” Barbara poked Jewel a few moments later.

“You look like a marshmallow.” Natasha sneered at Hafnan. The girl was useless in her packed clothes. They had lost Giselle on the drive into town from the airport and now Natasha needed to take that frustration out on her travelling companion.

“It is big jacket.” Hafnan looked down at her blue and white parka. She fingered her earmuffs. “I like these.”

“Your boots are ugly,” Natasha said weakly.

“Yes. They are heavy too.” Hafnan lifted each foot and frowned. “I like yours.”

“Mine weren’t bought in a podunk shopping mall,” Natasha sniped.

“Thank you so much,” Hafnan said. “I am grateful you bought for me.”

“You are too kind,” Natasha groaned. “What do we do now?”

“Do we call mademoiselle auBert? She’ll tell us where to meet her, yes?”

“And she’ll tell, Papa,” Natasha growled. “Here. A cafe.”

“Oui, maitresse.” Hafnan rushed ahead to hold the door for Natasha.

Natasha entered the cafe without a word to Hafnan. It was a cozy college cafe with social justice posters on the wall. The couches and armchairs were overlarge and biting into the real estate they had to seat more people. It was bustling. Many had to, but few wanted to, take their coffees to go.

“Hi! Welcome. What would you like?” A green haired hippy lazed behind the counter while a petite little electric blue haired Energizer bunny buzzed away at the chores and upkeep.

“Espresso,” Natasha said.

“I love the accent,” Janny, according to her nametag, said.

“Merci,” Natasha sounded bored. “Also, what are you having?”

“Oh,” Hafnan perked up. She looked up to the chalkboard menus. She frowned. She could read English, slowly, but that was usually typed and clear. This was the long scrolling hand of Janny’s cursive writing. Hafnan’s smile melted. “Je ne sais pas. Un moment.”

Natasha sighed and slumped her shoulders.

“You’re visiting Canada?” Janny smiled. “Let me pick out something for you.”

“Oui? I mean, please yes.” Hafnan said.

“Perfect,” Janny nodded.

“We’ll be at that table.” Natasha made the claim as a young puffy eyed Chinese woman quickly left her dumbstruck partner. “They are done with it.”

“OK,” Janice smiled. “I’ll be right over. Roxxi. Go clean table 8.”

“Which tables get which numbers?” The blue haired girl rushed over.

Frieda bit her lip as the elevator climbed to the sixth floor. She bounced her heels in her sneakers. Her stomach rumbled. She covered her belly with her hands. Owen and Giselle ignored her.

“I am struggling to understand.” Giselle’s English was refined and practiced. “I was told the tokens pay for my loyalty.”

“And—”

“Yes, the loyalty of my betrayer,” Giselle finished.

“You have a betrayer?” Owen asked.

“She has been dealt with. Her husband too.” Giselle shook her head.

“It matters. Who is she?”

“She is a doctor of archaeology at the University of Alberta. Katelyn Parsons.”

“Oh my God!” Frieda piped up. “She’s a friend of my father’s. Or married to one at least. Her husband is my dad’s best coin nerd friend.”

“Yes,” Giselle agreed. “He manages an antiquities exporter. She falsified the records on a set of coins to mistake Monsieur Le Carre.”

“Yes, I can see how fakes wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny.” Owen rolled his shoulders back. The elevator doors were opening. His phone immediately vibrated as he stepped out of the metal box.

A missed called from Tamara. He frowned. Giselle led on with a gesture. He placed his phone to his ear as he closed the door behind the three of them.

“You girls get started while I make the call,” he directed.

“Get started?” Frieda’s eyes went wide and her lips bloomed into a crazy smile. “Me and her?”

“Yes, as you wish.” Giselle unzipped her coat and laid it across a small table.

“You’re so pretty!” Frieda beamed at Giselle. “I always figured if I had a lesbian thing it’d be with a more butch girl.”

“Is that your preference?” Giselle asked as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Please, answer as you disrobe.”

“Hi, you called?” Owen smiled as he watched his pair.

“That bimbo’s here! Motherfucker! I’m going to kill her!” Tamara exploded.

“Don’t murder anyone, I can’t use your body in prison,” Owen half-joked. “You really weren’t mad at Janice?”

“What? She introduced me to you and got me out of my mom’s place and—”

Tamara held the phone from her face as she screamed out her profanity.

“So she’s your enemy?” Owen understood. “Why not the guy?”

“We were young and stupid and bit off more than we could chew. I’ll—Wait? She’s my enemy. You own her?”

“Own her body.”

Giselle turned at Owen’s words. She unfastened her bra, slowly taking off each garment in steps. He wasn’t watching. Frieda had scrambled naked and now bounced on the bed in a kneeling position. Giselle put her folded bra on her pile of clothes and aimed to pull off her panties.

“I am to take the lead,” Giselle volunteered as she approached the bed. She preferred to be seduced but this teenager was wide-eyed and over-run. Frieda wasn’t about to take the reins. “Start with a kiss.”

“Describe her,” Owen said into his phone.

“OK, well her name is Jewel O’Malley, and going to be Jewel Gregory.” Tamara was grinding her teeth. “She’s 23 I think. Has big tits, long brown hair. That tan is so fake! I want to rip the eyelashes off of—”

“Did she see you?” Owen endeavoured to cut off Tamara’s boiling rage.

“I don’t think so!” Tamara growled. “Sorry. I’m sorry. She’s at Janice’s cafe. No! They’re coming out!”

It was clear she was running to hide. Owen looked up to Giselle and Frieda making out naked on the bed. Frieda was enthralled with Giselle’s breasts. Giselle was mercenary in how and where she touched and kissed Frieda. The frizzy haired Canadian had freckles across her cheeks and onto her shoulders. She kicked her hips as Giselle’s fingers parted Frieda’s sex.

It was a beautiful scene. Owen almost forgot he was on the phone.

“She just sold them something! Goddamn harpy has her bitches with her and—”

“Cool down, Tamara. Them? Bitches? How many women are you stalking?”

“Three?” she seethed. “Jewel and her identical twin sluts.”

“Goddammit. Twins? That is enticing,” he smirked. “The fuck is it worth two coins. They’d have to be hotter than Zera and Elizabeth.”

“Huh? Who am I hotter than?” Tamara asked.

Tamara was the hottest woman Owen had consensually fucked. He didn’t know if that made him dislike his coins. He smiled. “You are hotter than all of the ugly women not worth my time. I don’t think Jewel’s little guard dogs are worth mine.”

“Really?” She breathed relief and confidence. “I’m going to follow Jewel so you can ambush her.”

“Ambush?”

“Yeah, she needs to know that she doesn’t get to take my man. My man takes her.”

Owen looked at the phone. Tamara had hung up on what was clearly her warcry. He almost said something. Frieda and Giselle were moving, Giselle mounted Frieda’s thigh and stared down at the girl. Owen reached for his belt buckle.

Hafnan followed Natasha into the pawn shop. The door rattled, locked.

“Merde!” Natasha spat. She kicked the metal door.

“Back in 15 minutes.” Hafnan pointed to a sign inside the door.

“I can read, you slut!” Natasha barked.

Hafnan frowned and took two steps backwards.

“Oh, careful there.” Hafnan landed into flat upturned hands. She was pushed a step towards Natasha. Hafnan turned around. A slight redheaded woman wore a soft beige coat and a thick knit toque. She scowled. “Great... Customers.”

“You? I thought this was the store of Kirk Marcusson,” Natasha said.

“Yes, and I am employed here,” the woman said. “If you are looking for Kirk, he’s meeting with a seller off site.”

“I am Natasha le Carre,” Natasha said.

“Le Carre?” The woman pushed the door in and led the trio into the store. “You are the wife or daughter of Maxim?”

“Daughter,” Natasha confirmed. Her face twisted at the suggestion of wife.

“Sorry, very rich man, very beautiful woman. It can be difficult to figure out the relations.” The woman’s compliment made Natasha stiffen. “My name is Val, I am Kirk’s fiancee.”

“Congratulations!” Hafnan beamed. She was much brighter than Natasha and Val. It was clear Natasha was sneering at the old clocks on brass hooks, collector spoons on decorative boards, and hockey cards in hard plastic. Hafnan wanted to explore every item and story. The clerk was the only thing in the store that made Hafnan feel unwelcome.

“I can’t believe Papa loves these old things,” Natasha scowled. “I am here to speak to your man. Where can I find him?”

“He is in the business of acquiring your father’s pieces.” Val said. “I can guarantee you’ll be able to meet him tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Natasha said. “Hafnan give this woman our hotel number. We are leaving in search of a good drink and company.” She stopped. She looked up and down Val. “Too old. I will find a better nightclub or party elsewhere.”

“This is the room and number. Thank you.” Hafnan handed Val the card.

Val managed to hold in her “And fuck you too!” Until the door was completely closed.

Frieda’s skin was heated and her muscles weren’t responding right. The older woman pushing her down, kissing her neck, fingering her clit was so pretty. Frieda had tits in her hands! What do you even do with them? She kinda understood her old boyfriends better.

She was moaning. She had to shut her eyes, scrunch her nose, and grind her teeth. She was so red her freckles were invisible. She kicked and felt a strong hand grab her leg.

“Sorry that took so long. How is she?” Owen’s voice flashed open Frieda’s eyes.

She thrashed and squealed. She scrambled her hands on the blankets trying to get a flat push and look around Giselle’s head to see. She stopped when Owen came over. He was smiling. He was naked. He was hard.

“She is inexperienced. She will need many lessons.”

“I hope she’s a bad student,” Owen smirked. “I like teaching these lessons.”

His hard cock was inches from Frieda’s nose. Was she supposed to be sucking it? She couldn’t throw her neck out that far to reach it.

“She has a sharp chin.” Giselle retreated from Frieda’s throat and chest. She lifted herself up to straddle Frieda’s knees. “I did not like getting stabbed in the skull.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun,” Owen commiserated. He grabbed Giselle, pulled her to him, and kissed the top of her head. “There, all better?”

“No,” her mercenary countenance softened. “Thank you for the kiss. She is ready for you.”

“How about you?”

“She played with my breasts but I am in need of more foreplay.”

Frieda was duck faced and only realizing that she had been a wordless, quivering, cut of meat these two were reviewing.

“I can eat her pussy!” Frieda volunteered.

“Vraiment?” Giselle touched her lip and frowned. “I suspect, she’ll need lessons. Perhaps another time, ma cherie.”

“Maybe I’d like to see that.” Owen climbed up on the bed. He lifted Giselle’s fingers and brought them to his mouth. Frieda’s eyes watched in terror. Oh my God! that was her pussy all over Giselle’s fingers! Oh my God! She was fucking with the lights on! Oh my God…

“You have very pretty breasts.” Giselle reached down and uncrossed Frieda’s wrists from over her tits.

“And they’re mine. I like them on display,” Owen leered.

Frieda nodded. She couldn’t keep eye contact. Her face turned to the left on her shoulder but she took her hands away from her breasts and spread them far to the left and right. Her breasts were conical, pointy. Giselle had those beautiful round ones. It wasn’t fair. Plus, Giselle’s nipples were darker and they stood out from the gorgeous woman’s body. Frieda was fair and at least her freckles were mostly a cheeks thing, but her cleavage did have spots. Her nipples hardly even change color from the skin around them.

Owen’s hand stroked through Frieda’s hair. She was wearing a thin Elsa braid over her left shoulder. It was pulled out and ragged from her time with Giselle.

“You’re a beauty,” Owen said. Freida took the compliment without belief. Sure, she was teen hormones attention pretty, but beautiful was a word for ladies like Giselle. “Her legs are shut tight.”

“She made it difficult to pleasure her,” agreed Giselle.

“What?” Frieda frowned. She slammed her knees into the bed opening like a butterfly on a glass slide.

Owen was laughing now? It was funny? It might of been funny. The chuckles helped. The giggles were embarrassing. Now they wouldn’t stop. She had just met this guy! All of the boys she had fucked before had been… Well she had known most of them since elementary school and the other one since grade 8.

“Fuck me! Fuck me-fuck me-fuck me-fuck me!” She shouted. She had to kill her nervous giggles.

“Your wish is my command,” he beamed.

His cock lined up with her pussy. He shoved himself in. Frieda flinched. Giselle had sat on the bed and had bumped her hip into the teen’s wrist. Giselle caught Frieda’s hand and stroked it.

“You are not used to young girls?” Giselle noticed as Owen finished his happy groan.

“Roxxi’s only 19.” Owen explained as if that explained anything! Who the fuck was Roxxi? Frieda tried to bitch but there was a cock up inside her! “And Zera’s 21. So 18’s not so out of the realm.”

“And before you bought these girls’ actions?” Giselle was stroking the back of Frieda’s hand. Frieda was telling herself to push up into Owen’s dick but she wasn’t. Giselle had revved her way up. Frieda was rolling her jaw around trying to do more than be fucked.

“Their bodies, really. I guess you got me there,” Owen laughed. He had picked up Frieda by the thighs and was dragging her down his cock as much as he was thrusting up into her squelching cunt. Did anyone else hear that?

“Take your hand away from your face.” Giselle lifted Frieda’s fingers and stuffed the teen’s hand down on the pillow next to her head.

“But I—Oh God!” Owen was such a weight pushing down on Frieda! She felt as small as she ever had. She couldn’t cover her face. She reached up and grabbed Owen’s neck.

“C’est bon,” Giselle brushed the bangs from Frieda’s face. “We will be good sex slaves for you.”

Slaves! Frieda’s jaw shut tight right before Owen leaned in to kiss her. She was shocked but she couldn’t not kiss him. He had stubble. It made her want to giggle again. She told herself it was proof she was with a man and not a boy. Her body rippled with pleasure. She scratched his cheek.

“Easy now.” He said in a soothing voice. The hard push of his cast pinned down her arm. Giselle held her other hand in both of hers. Frieda was laid out and at his mercy.

Turns out he was out of mercy. His face was purplish. His wrist was broken. He was a fighter and her pussy could attest to that! She screeched as his hips rubbed her clit while her butt bounced with bedsprings. She flailed her ankles and her body shocked and cum.

“Are you on the pill?” He asked. Frieda wasn’t hearing and she certainly wasn’t listening. Her body hopped and thrashed. She said words but they were cut off from thoughts. She was red down to her navel. “Shit.”

“Would you like me to swallow your cum?” Giselle offered.

“I really don’t want to pull out of teen pussy.” He was heaving now. Frieda felt a second blow to the pleasure center of her brain. She always did this! One cum and another! And her brain wouldn’t stop and she was never any good at sex! Her body thrashed a third time.

“Holy shit!” Owen pressed his forehead down, but he was taller than Frieda. The romantic gesture and her sex summoned sweat sent him sliding off the top of her head. He clipped his bruised nose and cursed the other kind of curse.

“Un moment.” Giselle got off the bed.

“Shit.” Owen rose up and looked down at Frieda. Frieda gasped and swallowed air. She belched and froze.

He laughed so she could laugh. At least it wasn’t the giggles this time. She shivered as he slipped his cock out of her. Christ! Val was right. Frieda was going to need to get some Plan B.

“You know, I could eat.” Owen sat up on the side of the bed and squeezed Frieda’s thigh beside him.

“Stop.” Giselle enunciated. She stepped in front of him with a wad of kleenex. She looked over his shoulder and she pressed the tissues to his face. “Frieda, go get cleaned up.”

“What?” Frieda looked down at herself. She looked up and her eyes blinked in contest with the ceiling light. She rushed madly for the bathroom.

“It’s just a nosebleed. Don’t worry about the pillow; housekeeping will take care of it.” Giselle’s voice didn’t penetrate Frieda’s mind fog. She closed the door and frowned at the girl in the mirror.

Her hair was sweat sticky and there was blood running down from her forehead to her ear. She yanked out her braid. She needed a shower. She had boycum and girlcum on her thighs. She looked herself in the mirror. Her shoulders rolled back. Her smirk spread out. Her eyes lit up.

“I’m done with idiot boys now,” she said. The giggles weren’t so embarrassing when she was alone. Giselle opened the door and Frieda jumped out of her skin.

“Get in the shower, crazy girl.” Giselle began to wash her hands in the sink. “You look like you’ve been fucked all over town and we are going back to your father, you know.”

Frieda’s spine lost its height and her knees shook as she stepped into the shower. She shrieked when Giselle stepped in behind her.

“Hush.” Giselle’s tone hadn’t changed from anything she had ever said to Frieda. Frieda realized this woman who had fingered her to the edge of orgasm, had no investment in the teen whatsoever. That shower was only four minutes, but it felt like it went on forever in oppressive silence.