The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Femdom Mind Control Flash Fiction

by S.B.


“God, men are such jerks!” Clarice said, lips buried in the creamy foam of a pumpkin spice latte.

“Tell me something I didn’t know already!” Janet retorted, drowning her own sorrows with a glass of red wine first thing in the morning.

The two of them sat in the porch of Clarice’s house for their customary Saturday reunion of badmouthing anything that needed to be badmouthed. When it came to the male gender, Janet usually did the honors so it was a genuine surprise to see her baby sister take the lead this time around. As curious as she was, she couldn’t help but want to learn more.

“Spill it. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s just... I thought Rick was different, I really did!”

“Oh?” Janet adjusted her body position to look her straight in the eyes. “Trouble in paradise?”

“He’s in a lot of trouble, that’s for sure.”

“Well, don’t leave it at that. Details. Now!”

“Only if you promise not to say ‘I told you so’, okay?”

“When did I ever do that?”


“Fine, it’s a deal. I won’t say I told... I mean, what you said, promise. What did good old dickface do this time?”

“So... I came home last night, exhausted as hell, and found him jerking off in our bedroom...”

“That’s it?” Janet sniggered. “Men are animals. Jerking off is second nature to them or did you think he kept his hands to himself all the time when you’re not around?”

“Let me finish, please. He was jerking off to a video of some blonde bimbo, eyes glazed, and drooling. He pretended I wasn’t in the room and when I yelled at him asking for an explanation you know what he did? He said: ‘Explanation to what? I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Can you believe it? I caught him with his pants down, jizz all over his legs, computer screen on, and he had the nerve to feign innocence! I got so mad I kicked him out! What an asshole, right?”

“I guess...” Janet shrugged.

“You guess? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, just thinking out loud if you didn’t overreact, that’s all.”

“Excuse me? You were already crucifying him when I started talking and now you think I overreacted? What gives, Jan?”

“Just a feeling I have. Did you watch the video by any chance?”

“No! Why would I bother to watch the porn my boyfriend was wanking off to?”

“You said his eyes were glazed. Perhaps he was hypnotized and didn’t know it?”

Clarice laid down the cup of coffee before her nerves got the best of her. “Seriously? That’s an even dumber excuse than the one he tried to pull off. I can’t believe you’re siding with him on this.”

“I’m not siding with him, just exploring every scenario. Hypnosis is real. Maybe he’s just one of those highly suggestible types.”

“Janet, I love you, but you’re full of horseshit, sometimes.”

“Then let’s watch the video together.”


“Come on, it will be fun. He’s a dickface and all but I have trouble believing he would act the way he did just like that... If it turns out I’m wrong, we can go kick his sorry ass together.”

“Fine!” Clarice conceded, using her sister’s curiosity as an excuse to her own. Yes, she had wanted to watch the video but if felt wrong, almost like a deadly sin. Unlike Janet, she had never gotten rid of the religious views their mother had imposed while growing up and porn... well, porn was a one-way ticket to Hell waiting to be claimed. Walking side by side, the two mid-thirties women left the porch and entered the bedroom, cum stains still visible on the rugged carpet. Clarice turned on the computer, peered into the browser’s history and clicked on the video player.

The arousing spectacle was entitled Owned by my Boobs. Most of the bimbo’s face was off-screen, save for pink glittery lips that were trashier looking than sexy. Her generous cleavage undulated back and forth as she spoke of rippling pleasure and uncontained erections. The script was atrocious not to mention the shit show of so-called “special effects” designed to make her look more appealing than she could ever be.

“Pure trash!” Clarice said.

“I’m not so sure. Look at how perfect her boobs are...” Janet replied.

Clarice rolled her eyes at her sister’s remark, but she had to admit to her being partially right. They were perfect... ly fake, too round, too stiff, an outrage to all women who fought the game of seduction with natural weapons. And what was that thing near the left aureola? A little pink heart tattoo? Ridiculous! No self-respecting woman would ever allow her body to be tainted like... Fuck!

“Something the matter, dear?” Janet queried, a sly smile on her half-parted lips.

“Don’t you...?” Clarice mumbled. “Don’t you...?”


“... have a tattoo just like that...?”

“... One? Yes, I do. Isn’t that funny?”

“I... Janet, what did you do?”

“Nothing, my dear. Nothing you need to remember, at least. Keep looking at the video. Keep looking at my boobs. My boobs will make your thoughts go away. You need nothing else other than my boobs, just like good old dickface. I own him. I’ll own you, too.”

Clarice’s eyes widened in absolute terror as her sister twisted her left arm and forced her to kneel in front of the screen. The video played on a loop as her thoughts dissolved one by one.