The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Elizabeth didn’t even smile for Carlos and Davy when she clocked in for her morning shift. People were worried. She tied her hair back in the staff washroom and came out looking like being pretty made her money. She just didn’t know what was her money and… How much of a waitress’s job was her body? Her feet were her body. Elizabeth guessed 97.3%.

“Boom! This ass!” Darlene, who always had the dayshift, came up behind Elizabeth and slapped her hands on the blonde’s hips. Darlene stuck her head by Elizabeth’s shoulder and couldn’t find disgust, only frustration. “You’re miserable.”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth nodded. “How are you?”

“Skull’s ringing like church bells while Quasimodo sees Esmeralda’s tits for the first time.” Darlene grinned. “Y’know, fantastic!”

“I never saw that movie.” Elizabeth said as they crossed the dining room. There was a couple waiting at the door. “I’ll take the left?”

“Yeah, you will.” Darlene grinned as if it were sexual. Elizabeth put on her smile and unlocked the front door.

“Hi, sit wherever you like.” She beamed.

They chose a booth on the right and Darlene practically floated over to them. They were in for the best the restaurant could give today. Elizabeth only walked tall because the customers might see her. She crossed into the kitchen. Carlos walked right in front of her and dropped a small plate with a little strawberry tart on it.

“What’s this?”

“I’m thinking of expanding the dessert menu. Give it a taste.” Carlos grinned. He hoped the smile would be infectious. It was beautiful. The chocolate sauce and cream and… She really doubted getting fat was in the cards.

“Sorry Carlos, trying to keep this up.” She waved to her figure and smiled her sadness. “It’s not really a cheat day.”

“No? I can’t even tempt you? One bite?” He saw his cajoling wasn’t working.

“Tempt her how?” Darlene asked looking over Elizabeth’s shoulders as she headed to the fridge. “Damn! That looks good!”

“You got a cheat day?”

“Cheat?” Darlene frowned. Elizabeth cheated? With Carlos.

“On your diet.” He clarified.

“Oh!” Darlene smiled wide. “My diet has always been ‘Never say no to sweet things from men who own vans.’”

“Your mom put you on that diet?” Davy laughed as he grabbed the receipt from the printer and stuck it in the carousel.

“You know it!” Darlene said. Carlos looked to Elizabeth and then offered the tart to Darlene. “We both always wanted to find my real dad again.” Darlene sucked her finger clean. “I’ll get the rest of that after I get those two set for drinks.”

The door opening sent Elizabeth back to the front. The smile, the work, it still came easy to her. The lunch rush started in earnest. She didn’t get a breather for another few hours. Darlene was having her best day.

“What’s climbed up your ass and hung Christmas lights?” Elizabeth repeated a question she heard from Darlene whenever someone was having a good day.

“I got my toes curled!” She had her back to the dining room as she refilled sugar jars and cleaned up a spill she’d made over the bar. “And I still got his number. I’m going back for rounds three through seven after work.”

“Oh? Good for you.” Elizabeth relaxed a little when she discovered she could be happy for her friend. “Anyone I know?”

“Yeah.” She beamed over her shoulder. Her voice had a sexy timbre as she bragged. “Owen. Though there’s still that thing with his tattooed skank.”

“His cousin?” Elizabeth asked but her skin was tingly and her eyes were wide. Dammit! Why was she asking the stupid questions? Janice had small tattoos on her wrist and over her shoulder. Hardly what called attention to the green haired crunchy beauty.

“Oh yeah! His cousin. Slipped my mind, I guess.” Darlene laughed at herself. “What about you? Brett core you out like you wanted?”

“No, I mean. I gotta sort something out first…” Her voice trailed off as she saw a threesome coming in the front doors. Green hair, broad shoulders, new tag-along brunette. Darlene hadn’t noticed. Elizabeth pounced. “Hey let me get the next table.”

Owen stood before his bookshelf. He tossed three of the coins absently in his good hand. He looked on Tamara with a deep frown. She relaxed. Janice flicked up an eyebrow as she looked between them. The green haired girl erupted into laughter.

“What?” Tamara snapped at Janice. Owen looked at his cousin with a more polite wonder.

“This girl begs to be owned! You should’ve seen the underwear she put on last night. All it took was someone else telling her she was gonna get laid!”

“What of it?” Tamara crossed her arms. Her breasts rose up and Owen was very interested in her body. She was thick, large breasts, wide hips, with a proper hourglass. Her face, which had been a little plain Jane in high school, had matured into beauty. Her thick dark bangs fell across her face. Owen smiled still seeing some of that high school timidity in her.

“I wanted Owen to get laid and... Boom! You seemed like proper pussy. If I’d know you were all submissive and shit, that you wanted Owen to tell you what to do, I’d have picked up a dog collar and a leash.” Janice smirked. “I know how to pick ’em, right? How many of those coins have you got left?”

“Shit, uh…” Owen had ten in the apartment but he wondered. He looked down into his palm. He had been tossing them and rolling them around for a few minutes now. He didn’t know which had been in Darlene’s fingers and which had been in Tamara’s but he knew the one that hadn’t been in either. “I guess eight. Uh, nine. There’s the one at the appraiser’s.”

“Friends’ one?” Janice flicked the cast at the poor penmanship on his wrist. “She wanna do that before or after.”

“After. She kinda followed me out of the store on a lunch break.” He sighed. “Eight? I think that’s about right.”

“I’m counting three spent. There were twelve right?”

“Yeah, remember, I may have tipped Liz—”

Janice was red faced for how hard she was laughing. She pumped her fists into the air.

“What?” Tamara snapped. Owen’s patience was also thinned out by then.

“OK, so, figure out what you can do to Tamara and then we’re going to eat! I wanna see what you can pull off the VIP menu!” Janice tittered again. She elbowed Tamara and warned, “You’ll like Liz. Owen won’t abide cat-fighting in his harem.”

“Why would that make me like her?” Tamara frowned. She turned to Owen. “You don’t need others, you’ve got me.”

“Uh, well, welcome.” He mumbled. He scratched his hair. He put the spent coins on the lower shelf and slapped the third on top of the box. “I wish he’d given me an instruction manual.”

“What for? Slip a silver dollar in a g-string, and... Bam! New Last Grandma!” Janice laughed.

“Janice flash me your tits.” He said turning. Tamara was aghast. Janice had her shirt up and over her perky pale points in a second. Janice booed as she rolled the shirt back down.

“What?” Tamara had lost her bite.

“He said flash. Should’ve told me to take the damned thing off. I’d rather just go topless.” She said. Owen sighed.

“I guess that proved nothing.” He said. “You know what? We’ll deal with it later. Let’s go get breakfast.”

“She’s breakfast.” Janice pointed at Tamara. Tamara started to blush but she smouldered more than she looked insecure. “Bought and paid for.”

“There’s something else about the coins. I—” He looked at Tamara. “Do you want to go on a date later?”

“Boo!” Janice growled through a hand microphone. Tamara smiled.

“I’d love to!” She said. She looked at Janice who was looking impatient as she was disappointed. Tamara frowned. “Can we have some alone time?”

“No,” Janice said. “I have no doubt that she’s a freak with the lights off and the curtains pulled. You want to see how far you can pull her strings? This one’s going to need an audience. I’ve got microwave popcorn.”

“Either way, this one needs coffee because my brain is overloaded.” Owen gestured to himself. He walked by the girls and to the bedroom. Janice followed him and Tamara felt she had to follow Janice. He grabbed clothes and was about to get dressed when he watched the girls come in through his bedroom door. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I know right.” Janice leaned in at Tamara. “He stinks of a one night stand and he’s just going to throw on new clothes. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll think about slapping on a new coat of deodorant. Dude. Shower. Look, I brought you a new rubber ducky.”

Janice thrust Tamara forward by the buttcheeks.

“You do kinda smell.” Tamara said with an empty frown.

The problem was Owen was clearing his head as he moved. He was waking up. He wasn’t jumping at shadows. He was happy to recover doubt that any sort of curse was attached to the coins.

Darlene had come to his apartment before she had touched a coin. Elizabeth hadn’t tried to look him up. Frieda had his number and she hadn’t called him. Tamara was on the plane before she had known the coins existed.

It was fine then. Right? This owning her body was just a game. Besides, the rules were for her and her enemy? Who the fuck had enemies? Owen couldn’t think of someone since junior high that he would count as an enemy. Tamara didn’t suffer Janice picking on her terribly well. Yet, at the same time, Tamara had got on board with the plan and flown in with his cousin to meet Owen. Coffee would help. So would a blowjob. It seemed like Tamara had visited with the idea for sex.

“Alright fine. Tamara bathroom. Janice go get cleaned up at your place and we’ll meet at the elevator in thirty.”

“Forty five.” Janice countered. “Hers is your body now. Make her cum too.”

“Out.” He flicked her green hair as he walked by Janice. Tamara had left on her command.

“Forty five minutes means no butt stuff.” Janice called from the door. When his apartment door shut. Tamara finally smiled in a way that she hadn’t been able with Janice around.

“You don’t think too badly about Janice, do you?” He asked. He started stripping off. He watched her. She watched him. That look in her eyes? He felt better looking than he had in a decade. It had been her excitement back then too. Why did he break up with her?

“Oh, she’s pushy but she means well.” Tamara refused to say she didn’t like someone. That was familiar. Whatever, they had both matured and Owen was more than willing to pay the price it seemed to cost him.

“Now take your clothes off.” He said. She stripped with no haste and no sloth. “How have your, you know, fucking skills improved since high school?”

“What? It’s not like we didn’t do everything, right?”

“We never had anal sex. Never had a threesome. Never used a toy. Never did doggystyle.” He waved his hand. “Lots of stuff we never did. I don’t even think I came in your mouth.”

“You totally did! Remember! You had promised you wouldn’t!” She remembered an encounter much differently than he did.

“Well, that’s a good place to start. Give me your hand.” He took her hand helped her over the lip of the tub and through the glass shower door.

“We did fuck in showers!” She defended herself.

“That we did!” He grinned. “Almost got caught too.”

“Yeah,” She smiled with a laugh. He followed her in and pressed down on the top of her head. “What?”

“Kneel down, Tammy.” He said.

“Oh,” She grinned at the name she had left behind in high school. She climbed down to her knees. “I kinda prefer doing this laid out on a couch or in bed.”

“It’s OK. I’m tall enough.” He took her hand and slipped it onto his cock. She looked down. Her smile wavering. She looked up.

“OK, wow. Just like this huh?” She asked. He was about to say something back but she took his cock into her mouth and made a loud brutal slurping noise.

“Oh, and I was afraid you hadn’t improved.” He said. She smiled around his dick. Her lips travelled much further than he had remembered. Her head corkscrewed. The rapid slither of his tongue below seemed perfect in harassing the edge of the head of his cock.

“I’m going to start the water. Don’t bite.” He reached over her. She screeched as he turned the first tap. The faucet blasted water right on her toes and it was cold. Luckily, his order kept her jaw locked open. She crossed her eyes and relaxed as the water felt warmer. He pulled the stopper and the shower rained down over them.

“You look great.” He said as her bangs crossed over her face and clumped in the water. She tried to focus on sucking. Her head bobbed, turned, and pulled backwards. She would’ve pumped him, or fondled his balls, but she was forced to sweep her hair repeatedly out of her face.

“Do you deepthroat?” He asked. She shook her head, slapping him with the insides of her cheeks. She smiled though. Her mouth came off with an explosion of spit.

“Will you teach me?” She forced her face into a quivering innocent smirk.

“I think I just might.” He beamed. He spun up her hair into his fists. Her eyes went wide.

“Um, Owen? Maybe, uh, this isn’t the perfect—”

“Mouth all the way open and do your best.” He said and she opened wide. He pulled her hair and she thrust her head forward to keep it from hurting. He snaked to the back of her mouth and she squeezed her eyes closed. That last explosion of spit had been nothing. She huffed for breath as he slackened the pull on her hair and inched her back off his cock.

“Wow, um,—” She almost said more but was yanked forward again. He loved the burst of color that changed on her face. Red as a tomato and let her go when the purple appeared.

“Maybe, Oh my God—” He was laughing madly. She dove in with every pull. Six more spittle based entries and she tapped his thigh hurriedly. He let her off for more than a handful of syllables.

“It’s going to take time! Maybe we only try a little bit of that every day? I promise the rest of the blowjob will be great. Let me do it?”

“Hmm…” He was gonna say yes. His smile was evil. He pulled her down for one more foray at her tonsils. This time, her mouth running with spit, she flinched and swallowed. Her throat buckled on the end of his cock. He slid in just another inch. She tapped wildly. He inched back. She was heaving for breath.

“That was a close call.” She panted and slumped. His hands left his hair and went to her cheeks. He tutted. Her eyes flashed up and she asked, “What?”

“You made a promise your not keeping.” He smirked. Her eyes went wide. She grabbed his cock and thrust her mouth on him around the head. She gave everything. The shower washed her long hair over her eyes and cheeks. Owen couldn’t complain. This was heaven.

She made a show of getting all of him gathered in her mouth before she drank down his desire. Her tongue spun along his foreskin, once, twice, three times a lady. She stayed on her knees. She sat on her heels. She stroked her hair from her eyes.

“Oh, hey, uh. If you need your shower and soap and stuff from Janice’s you might want to grab a towel and use the slippers in the corner to run across the hall and get it.” He suggested.

“What?” She asked looking around at the Old Spice and realizing his point. “Oh my God.” She looked out. “I probably can make due.”

“I want you cleaned up and smelling your best, babe.” He smirked.

“Oh, of course, I’ll…” She took his hand to take her feet. She pushed the door open. He smirked. He had to know.

“Oh, just the slippers, Tammy. You’re going to get wet when you come back anyways and it’s literally straight across the hall.” Her eyes went wide. She stuffed her feet in her slippers and dripped and a terrified sprint out of his apartment.

“I can’t believe it.” He frowned. “There’s gotta be something to this. Yet, what did Grandpa mean when he said enemies?”

Natasha poured her seventh glass of wine emptying a second bottle. She zipped up her light jacket, it was nearing 10 degrees celsius. It had rained earlier. If she hadn’t been drunk she would have been miserable. The Memphis Villa was remote, south of Cairo and renovated from an old Roman home. It had been in her family since it had been built. She dropped the wine bottle on the tile ground. It shattered into a million shards. Her startled dogs barked and scurried away from her.

She hated it here. She missed London and Paris. The close walls decorated in barbed wire, the mercenaries babysitting her, the complete lack of excitement. If the villa wasn’t made of stone she’d have burnt it to the ground.

“Maitresse, ca va?” A young pretty Egyptian woman rushed out with a broom and dustpan. Her long black hair was up in a bun. Her maid outfit was conservative.

“Plus de vin.” Natasha waved and gulped a third of glass’s contents.

“Oui.” She nodded and quickly squatted to sweep up the broken glass.

“Vite.” Natasha slurred. The maid bolted. One of the guards, a well armed Chinese man walked by. Natasha smiled at him around the rim of the glass but he made his rounds without more than a glance her way. She snarled. This wouldn’t do. She’d flunked out of Oxford last May and she’d been a caged bird since. She hadn’t had a lover in all that time.

“La beurre d’arachide. Tes chiens s’adorent.” Natasha could still hear the smug words from her father’s secretary in her ear. That bitch Giselle was probably fucking Natasha’s father, while her mother rotted in whatever barbed villa she had been placed in. Natasha was done. She swung unsteady legs out off of her lounge chair.

“Maitresse! La verre!” The maid rushed out carrying another bottle of wine in her left hand and the broom and dustpan under her right arm. “Arrete!”

“Fuck…” Natasha groaned and laid back. She always enjoyed the English swear words. “Cunt, motherfucker, faggot.” She soured. She was sick of drinking.

She stared up at the canopy above her. Her stomach rumbled and her legs rocked unsteadily. The maid poured a glass but put the bottle out of reach before she cleaned up the glass. The dogs returned as the maid rushed to the nearest bin. Natasha drained her glass. The maid soon returned with a cordless phone.

“C’est ta pere.” She whispered.

“Fuck.” Natasha belted and snatched the phone.

“Papa.” She groaned softly. “What is it you want?”

“English? Very good. I’m glad you are not falling out of practice, my dear.” He said. She covered the handset as she stifled a hiccup.

“I am my father’s daughter.” She said with mock affection. He didn’t notice or he let it slide.

“It is done. It is nearly done!” He cheered. “I am working out returning us to the glory we used to know.”

“Good.” She mumbled. “And this windmill will make you a grand trophy, Sir Quixote.”

“Oh you mock.” He laughed. Her father was too jubilant to be baited. That pricked up Natasha’s ears. This was going to go well or collapse terribly. “The coins, Nata. I’ve them days away. Weeks at most.”

“Which is to say you don’t have them.” She sighed.

“My contact in Nova Scotia has pictures of the box that match old photos. This must be Isaac Lahey.” He said.

“Perfect. Then fly out and purchase them.” She shook her head.

“Oh no. A protocol must be followed. You wouldn’t want to find yourself in the man’s debt.” He laughed. “I have sent Giselle. She is qualified for this sort of work.”

“Oh she is qualified for professions new and old.” Natasha rolled the words out with callous disdain. “Papa?”

“Oui?”

“If,” She felt turning away from English could shake her father’s uncommon good mood. “Perhaps we could celebrate? I’d love to meet you in Nice or Paris or…”

“Wonderful! I’d love to see you!” He grinned. “I’ll arrange the flight and—”

“Non, Papa.” She squeezed her eyes to fight through the alcohol. It would be too easy to fuck this up. “Allow me to make the flight plans. You always forget something. As you mentioned, you have sent Giselle away.”

“Well, I suppose. I’ll tell security to get you to the airport. By your voice, let’s say for tomorrow afternoon. No, the evening at the earliest.”

“Merci Papa! Je t’aime.” She smiled

“I will see you tomorrow.” He was saying when she hung up in his ear. Natasha turned her head to the villa. God, she couldn’t remember the girl’s name.

“Fille!” She called out for the girl. The maid appeared.

“Maitresse.” She curtsied.

“Nous partons...” Natasha clenched her mouth as her stomach rebelled. She made a taking off gesture with her right hand and rumbling jet noises with her mouth. “Faites nos baggage.”

“Nous? Je n’ai jamais voyagé auparavant.” The maid was trepidatious.

“Ca va.” Natasha touched the maid’s hand. “Ils parlent Français au Canada.”