The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Classifications: M/F, MC, FD

Author information:

Good Girls Go To Heaven; Bad Girls Go To London

by Al Toid

I was in London at the time, and I needed a place to live right away. I had been digging through web sites and newspapers for a couple of days now, but nothing was working out. Either the place was crap or the people were. When someone says they’re looking for an immediate room, does that make you think next month?

Having almost forty-five minutes to kill before my next appointment, I stopped at a coffee shoppe to get something to eat. I hadn’t had breakfast and by this point, I was starving.

It was only after I’d ordered that I noticed how crowded it was. The only seat was with a young blonde in a ratty denim jacket and a t-shirt lingering over her coffee.

“Do you mind?” I asked as I pulled out the seat opposite her. She shook her head, so I sat down and unfolded my paper. Engrossed in the flatshare ads, I didn’t pay her much attention after that.

She was fiddling with her mobile or something, and the bangles on her wrist kept catching the light. I blinked and shifted in my seat, even going as far as raising my hand against the glare, but she was too engrossed in what she was doing to pay me any mind.

My cup of tea came and I sipped at it absently as I tried to pay attention to my paper.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” she asked in a husky voice thick with some sort of eastern European accent.

“I’d rather if you didn’t,” I said. Cigarettes are filthy things; I’d watched a whole generation of aunts and uncles fall to lung cancer and heart disease from smoking.

She nodded, a small smile quirking her lips, and picked back up her coffee cup. “You are looking for accommodation, yes?”

“Yes,” I said with a nod. “I’m trying to find something close to the tube. Do you of anyone with a place?”

“Da. I have bed. You clean?”

“Definitely. I’m very tidy as well. Mostly keep to myself. I won’t be any trouble.”

She nodded. “You cook?”

“A little. How big is the flat?”

“Bed very soft and comfortable. Like sleeping on cloud,” she gestured, flashing the light in my eyes again as she spoke. Her voice was little more than a whisper. I blinked again and again as she told me about the flat.

I jerked upright with a start. I couldn’t believe I had zoned out while she was talking. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind. Other than flashing me an enigmatic smile, she went back to her coffee.

My food had arrived while we were talking, but it was cold. I ate what I could stomach.

“You will come with me, yes?” she asked, standing up.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” I said. “I would like to see the flat.”

“No trouble. Follow.” It sounded less like a statement and more like an order. She headed out without a backward glance, leaving me to settle my bill and head out after her.

I hadn’t noticed it while she was sitting down, but she wore a low-riding leather mini that flashed her neon blue thong as she walked. And walk she did. On the heels of the boots she was wearing, every step was a jaunty strut showing off her legs wrapped in skintight thigh highs and her ass in the equally tight mini. Normally, that wouldn’t do much for me, but I found myself gaping like a fool.

At the door, she turned back toward me with a slight smile on her face. “Come.” Then she stepped out into the street.

My face grew red and I slapped a five pound note on the table, as I hurried to catch up with her. She hadn’t stopped. I managed to stay a few steps behind her; close enough that I could follow, but far enough that I could still watch her walk. She had long, toned legs topped by an ass that bordered on the obscene.

Just looking at her left me stiff as a board, and left me as awkward as any teenager. I was so distracted I almost bumped into her, when she stopped. We were at her flat and I didn’t realize how how we had gotten there. I had spent so much time gawking at the vision in front of me that I missed everything else.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside. She took off her denim jacket and I could finally see the t-shirt she was wearing. It was slightly faded, but the same color as her thong, and read: “Good Girls Go To Heaven, Bad Girls Go To London”.

As I read the words, I found my eyes lingering over her breasts. She didn’t seem to care; all she did was look at me with that same enigmatic smile. I blushed again and lowered my eyes, which made me blush all the more.

“Hang up coat.” She gestured to an empty hook and I took off my jacket. “Come,” she said and began to show me the flat. She started with the kitchen, taking the time to show me where everything was kept.

Everything seemed serviceable, but it could all stand a good cleaning. It was like my first post-college apartment all over again. “Is there a grocery store nearby?”

She ignored the question. “Come.” She led me to the bathroom. It was bigger than I had expected with an enormous, old claw-footed bath. She clearly enjoyed it, if the half-melted candles surrounding it and collection of oils were any indication. Again a good cleaning was the order of the day. I gave the toilet a flush to check the water pressure and tried the hot water on the tap.

When I turned back, she was already walking up the stairs at the end of the hall. She was taking her time and I imagined it was to give me a good view of her legs as she climbed. I shook my head, feeling like an errant school boy, and followed. The stairs turned sharply toward the top; she stood on top of the stairs and I found myself staring up at her. She looked impressive, backlit by the window, regal and imperial. I stood, staring as I took in the sight before me.

She looked annoyed and I immediately wondered how I could make it up to her. Just the thought of displeasing this woman made my stomach sink. “Come.” She gestured curtly toward the second door. “My room.”

Unsure what she wanted me to do, I looked to her for some sort of clarification. She reached for me, prodding me along. Her hand was scalding hot on my neck, as she pushed me forward.

Once inside the room, I turned around, confused. She walked imperiously past me and sat on her bed. “Help me.” She stretched out her right leg and started to unzip the boot.

A little unsure about all of this, I squatted down in front of her and reached to help. She left the boot to me and stretched, which meant that she pressed the boot firmly into my groin, directly on my hard-on. I don’t know if she felt it; I couldn’t tell anything from that enigmatic half smile that was the only expression I’d seen since we left the coffee shop. I fought not to moan, but it felt damned good.

“Boot,” she snapped and I quickly moved back to helping her. I unzipped the boot and rocked the boot slightly (both to give my poor dick some breathing room and to pull it off of her foot).

Her toe nails were the same bright blue as her thong. She wiggled her toes and without thinking, I started to massage her instep. She nodded and I felt like I had passed a test I didn’t know I was taking. I continued the massage moving up her perfect leg. The world seemed to shrink. All that mattered was her leg and my slow climb toward the enticing shadows beneath her mini. My revelry was interrupted, when she pulled her leg free and pressed the other boot into my lap. She ground it into my crotch, forcing me to squirm.

“Clean,” she said, pointing at a smudge on the top of the boot. I licked my finger and reached to wipe it away, when she pressed harder into my groin. “Nyet. Tongue, boy.”

I don’t know why, but I brought the boot up to my mouth and tentatively licked it. I had never done anything like this before, but it felt right, somehow, that I serve her like this. The rich smell and the taste of the leather spurred me forward and before I knew it, I was working my tongue over every inch, moving slowly up the length of her exquisite leg.

Time didn’t seem to have any meaning at that point, all that mattered to me was what I was doing. As long as I was serving her, licking her boot, I felt the tingling of caresses all over my body. I was getting harder and harder, my dick throbbing closer and closer to release; there was no way I could stop and she knew it.

She shoved me back. “Enough,” she said in a husky voice that seemed to reflect some of my need. I scrambled forward, intent on finishing what I started, I was so horny at that point that I probably would have taken what I needed by force. She seemed to know that, because she told me to stop and my body froze; not that that stopped my movement, I still skidded forward and landed at her feet, mostly face down.

“Good,” was all that she said. Bang: the boot that had given me so much trouble landed next to me. From my vantage point, all I could see were her feet. Blue toes danced on the rug beneath me, as she shimmied out of the leather mini and let it fall onto me.

I wanted to turn. God, I wanted to turn, to move, to look up and see the sights. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. I lay there more dog than man, breathing deeply and imagining that I could smell the scent of her over that of the leather skirt she had worn. Her silky blue thong landed next to me and then she stepped back, disappearing from my view.

“Come to me,” she said, calling me to heel.

Scrambling to my feet, I found her on her bed naked. I wanted to strip naked and jump in there with her, but I was unsure if I could. The look in my eyes must have been plain, because she sighed and said that I should strip first.

It was my fastest disrobing since I had gotten the first invitation back in high school. Scattering jacket, t-shirt, boots, jeans and everything else I was wearing about the room, I all but leapt onto her bed.

“Slowly,” she admonished. “Lick me.”

I’ve always been oral, and it felt as though she had divined my secret desire and called it forth. I started with feather kisses to her thighs, as I moved in. She was neatly trimmed—which I always liked, a bald woman makes me feel like I’m with a child—but very wet. She seemed to be enjoying this as much as I. I started with long teasing licks of my tongue along the petals of her lips, giving little bites and kisses along the edge. When I did run my tongue along or stab at the bud of her clit, I could feel her squirm beneath me and her breath catch. She was close, but I wanted to make this last to thank her properly for how good she had made me feel.

How long my teasing lasted, bringing her close and then pulling back to fan the flames, I can’t tell you, but I can tell you how it ended. She wrapped her legs around me and with her feet and her hands, she shoved me deeper into her groin. “Now,” she stammered with ragged breath. I got the message and went directly to her clit, tonguing and sucking at it, while she shuddered beneath me.

As she came, so did I. I’m not sure if it was a reflection of her orgasm or not, but it just seemed to go on and on, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. When she finally slumped back, loose-limbed and weak, I collapsed at her feet. At that moment, I realized that I belonged here with her, serving her.

Letting out a ragged breath of my own, I looked up at her. “I—”

She shook her head wearily and wiped a sweaty strand of hair out of her eyes. “Nyet. You will sleep on the floor there. Bring your clothes. Closet is in hall.” She waved me off and stumbled out of bed. A few moments later, I could hear the shower start.

I finally had a place in London.

Author’s Note: If I got anything wrong, please let me know so I can correct it in the next draft. I’m on the other team, so I only have various online porn to tell me where the parts go with women. If you like it, let me know; if you don’t, tell me that too. It’s the only way I’ll get better and write more.