The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The ancient fossil of a creature sat, hunkered over its meal. “Grrrrawrrr,” a growl slipped out its mouth, then it wrestled another chomp out of its victuals. The grinding surfaces of its molars, like a pestle, shredded and gnashed the meat, pulverizing it before the great, immense ... swallow.

“Hey, Dad,” Kevin greeted the savage thing as he strode through the kitchen. “I’m going over to the Jordans.”

“Arrrgh! Nnnghrrkh!” the beast acknowledged that it heard, and perhaps even comprehended, its son’s statement.

“Yeah, whatever ... see you later, Dad.”

“Rrrgh ...”

Mrs Jordan greeted Kevin with a smile as she answered the door. “Oh baby, it’s so good to see you. Come on in!”

She began peeling out of her clothes as she walked Kevin across the living room—her blouse, her pants, her bra, her skimpy silk panties. “Ohgod, I miss you SO MUCH when I don’t see you, Kevin!” She traced her fingertips over her nipples as her bra fell away, “Ohgod, look at my NIPPLES! They are SOOO excited to see you, darling! And to BE SEEN by you!”

Mrs Jennifer Jordan hadn’t always been so lustfully interested in Kevin. She was once just the older woman next door, a tantalizingly aloof 30 years old, and happily married, loyal enough to her husband Bart.

But Kevin had discovered—okay, well, yeah, his smart best friend Gabby actually discovered it—that a vast, mysterious conspiracy was in the process of unfolding in their small township of Eeville. A large percentage of the women in town had been somehow treated to ... slip into a suggestible state when their boobs were squeezed! During their research to uncover the conspiracy, Kevin had had to test their theories by having Mrs Jordan do something she wouldn’t ordinarily do—like lustfully fall into infatuation with Kevin, and to ... well, have sex with him.

For the research! He’d HAD to have her do that so they could uncover the insidious conspiracy!

And he’d kept having sex with her because—well, to test how long the effects of the booby-squeezing suggestibility lasted. It was more research, okay—to test hypotheses that your primitive puny minds couldn’t begin to comprehend. So there.

“Oh! My! God! My thighs are wet with EXCITEMENT for you, darling! I SOOO get off on getting naked for you!”—another fetish he’d implanted in her mind via boob, as part of the research—“I am ... just your hot little BITCH, Kevin!” she sighed.

A fake stern look flashed up on her face. “This doesn’t have anything to do with all that PILLOWTALK that you whisper to me that I CAN’T REMEMBER later, does it? Hmm?”

Uhm! “Uh ...” n-no, “no. No, of course not!”

That was ... a little close to home!

With a sigh, she easily gave up that line of questioning, “I guess I just LOVE YOU INTENSELY, then, darling ...”

Kevin admired his neighbor’s naked body. Her husband Bart did pretty well in his business, and she was a trophy wife. And it showed! Her breasts were large but natural, not stuffed. And she kept her genital fur neat and trimmed.

“However much I love you,” she broke him out of his admiration for her MILFy body, “I GOTTA HAVE YOU, RIGHT NOW!”

She sank to her knees and unzipped him, then let out the appropriate ooh-ing and ahh-ing as she pulled down his pants and he sprang up in front of her. “You ARE glad to see me,” she purred.

Kevin’s eyes rolled up in his head some when she took him in her mouth—very warm and very soft. Like velvet. Like wet—no, like steamed velvet. That’s it—like sex-steamed velvet, a tender delicacy you might partake of at lunch, at a high-class restaurant.

After a couple minutes of sex-steamed-velveting him, she stood, and his eyes refocused a little. “I need you INSIDE me, baby!” she breathed, turning around and cocking her pelvis back at him.

Truly the gentleman, Kevin grabbed both her arms at the elbows and held her while he speared her.

She didn’t mind. In fact, the sound that came out of her mouth was pure liquid pleasure—the kind of thing you wish you could bottle so that you imbibe and enjoy it in small delightful doses for the entire rest of the day ...

As he held onto her elbows and pumped her pelvis, that sound gave way to cute little whimpers, and throatful, needy things as she determinedly ground her crotch back against the dick that speared her.

Suddenly—she folded over!

Bent down, touching her toes, like ... she’d suddenly remembered some workout routine she’d forgotten to do and really needed to catch up on ... ?!

What the HELL?!

“Oh hi, Kevin,” Mr Jordan greeted him when he saw the young man in his kitchen.

Kevin’s mind snapped to and did the kind of complex calculations it suddenly does when its life is on the line! Mr Jordan was HOME! Mrs Jordan must have caught sight of him and doubled over to hide!

Mr Jordan was on the other side of the kitchen island, which hid the naked Mrs Jordan from his view.

And hopefully also the fact that Kevin was PANTSLESS!

And ... INSIDE THE MAN’S WIFE! Buried, cock-in-twat, inside the wife of the man he was gaping at!

Kevin performed a magnificent feat of intellect and said something intelligible, “Uhhh ... Hi, Mr Jordan ...”

Moments ticked by—seconds even!—as Kevin prayed that Mr Jordan could not see that his wife was naked and still mounted on Kevin’s dick as they ... stared at ... each other ...

“You’re helping Jen with her accounting lessons?” Mr Jordan asked finally.

Kevin jumped on that like sticky on honey, “Uhhh, yeah, that’s it! Helping Mrs Jordan with her accounting! Yeah! Yes, sir!” And still keeping her love canal expanded with a dick that would! Not! Go! Down! Even with death in the form of Bart Jordan only three feet away, his PENIS thought it was a GOOD IDEA to STAY FULLY INFLATED inside Mrs Jordan!

What the FUCK, dick?! You’re gonna get us KILLED! Go down! Go down!

His penis informed him that it might consider that later, but ... not now ... not while inside ... Mrs Jordan ...

“Do you know where Jenny got off to?” Mr Jordan asked finally.

Kevin ... lowered his hands—still up in surprise at Mr Jordan’s appearance—down out of view, onto the ... naked butt of the man’s wife. That was gorgeously naked and firmly pressed against his crotch. While his penis still proudly filled her pussy, sort of a penile, “I claim this twat for the KING, baby!”

Ohgod.

“I, uh, think she ran to the bathroom for a minute or something,” Kevin finally squeaked out, seeing as his life depended on talking coherently here.

“Hey, Kevin, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Oh crap! Oh crap! Why won’t this situation go away?! And why won’t YOU STILL NOT go down?!—Kevin asked his penis.

Mr Jordan didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve noticed that the way you describe your dad in this story, he almost should have bolts on his neck. He sounds like some vague half-aware Frankenstein monster that’s not fully capable of speaking English. And you don’t describe me quite as bad as that, but still, I sound like a half-aware Neanderthal. What’s with that? He and I both belong to some other subspecies or something?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Kevin found a mental groove he could get into even if his penis steadfastly refused to stop dominating the bent-over beautiful lady it was holstered inside of. “Most older guys start looking and behaving the same. You’re just old-mannish, Mr Jordan, just like my dad.”

Bart Jordan’s skeptical look was entirely lost on a Kevin jumping into the topic to distract himself from Mrs Jordan’s velvet glove—make that sex-steamed velvet glove—pelvically gripping his stubborn manhood.

“Yeah, and I DO realize that Dad actually talks intelligibly too, instead of simple grunts and growls. But ... I don’t care. I just don’t pay any real attention to what he actually says.

“And you aren’t REALLY decrepit and half-aware, Mr Jordan—you’re just old-mannish.”

Silence ...

Finally, “Kevin ... I just turned 32. That’s not some ‘older guy.’”

“It is to ME. And I’m the hero of this story, so ...”

Silence again ...

Mr Jordan leaned back and spread his arms to the sky, demanding, “Hey! Narrator! Are you gonna let him talk to me like that?”

Nothing.

Just ... deafening silence.

Mr Jordan’s shoulders sagged, his head bent and bowed, just a broken—old—man. “I ... guess so ...” he grumbled.

He turned, head still bent shamefully, and shuffled out, muttering, “Old-mannish?! Haberblunderdash! I can still bench 300 pounds. I’m not old ...”

And he was gone ...

The kitchen theirs again, Jennifer Jordan popped back up and smiled at Kevin, her eyes bright and playful. “Wow! That was CLOSE!”

“God! Yeah!” Kevin agreed. He NEVER wanted anything like that to ever happen again! That was simply—

“But EXCITING!” Mrs Jordan giggled.

“Yeah ... less so for me,” Kevin explained. “I was the one that had to talk—coherently!—to your husband while I was sunk deep inside you, buried to the hilt. My body has never BEEN so confused. It was the classic flight-or-fuck response—do I run for my life? Or unload into you and die? It was very confusing!”

“Awww, poor baby ...”

“What if I’d CUM?! And shown my O-face to MR Jordan while I unload into MRS Jordan?! That would have been—”

“Did I keep you all warm and moist inside my pussy, though, darling? You NEVER WENT DOWN, lover! I know! I stayed STUFFED with you the whole time. And me? I just got wetter until I was drooling lubricant down my leg. It was tickling the insides of my knees, but I didn’t dare move. I was scared to death, but I bravely tried to keep you comforted with my warm pussy.”

She sank to her knees and tasted him. “Oh! I DID! I DID keep you very VERY warm!”

“Ohgod, Mrs Jordan,” Kevin whimpered. “That feels ...”

“THIS,” she giggled around the head of his penis, “is how I earned the name ‘Honeymouth.’” And then she showed him.

His knees almost went to water ...

While she was sucking Kevin’s mind out his penis ... Mr Jordan walked back in.

With a small moan and a sigh, Kevin cracked his eyelids.

And ... saw Mr Jordan standing there.

Oh ... Mr Jordan ...

Mr ...

Oh holy FUCK! Mr Jordan! Shit! Shit! Shit! Crap!

Kevin tried to drain the ecstasy off his face. “H-hungh?”

“I said,” Mr Jordan said, “What do you think? Jennifer’s and my anniversary is coming up.”

Okay, crap! Kevin though. Mr Jordan had been talking to him for a couple seconds. Hopefully—prayerfully!—he still couldn’t see ... his own naked ... HIGHLY AROUSED wife ... on her KNEES ... in front of another man’s PECKER ... sucking him wonderfully and beautifully off ... earning the name “Honeymouth” a dozen times over with this sweet ... perfect ... blowjob ...

“Jennifer will have been my wife for three years,” Mr Jordan explained. “And she means as MUCH to me now as the day I wed her.”

Okay, great way to make a guy feel bad for dicking her face right in front him ...

“She is the center of my world, Kevin.”

And ... here Kevin was ... with his swollen hard-on stuffed through the luscious lips of said sweet wife and DOWN HER MARRIED THROAT ...

“So what would you say? Should I get her a dozen roses and a box of decadent chocolates? Or a new diamond ring?

Kevin ... whimpered.

Mrs Jordan was still playfully tonguing his dick while Mr Jordan talked about her ...

“Kevin? A dozen roses? And decadent chocolates?” She gave his penis a mild suck. “Or a new diamond ring?” Mrs Jordan gave his cock a big suck with swirling tongue!

“I, uh ... think she’d, uhm ... prefer the diamond ring.” She gave Kevin a huge tongue-swirly reward for getting that answer correct, and Kevin whimpered in front of Mr Jordan again. “Yeah, I’d DEFINITELY go with the diamond ring ...”

“Okay, noted. Yeah, I thought something modern. I think the traditional gift is, like, something LEATHER for the third anniversary.”

Kevin’s penis picked that moment to “press the big red button” and splat all over Mrs Jordan’s tongue and down her throat. Fireworks exploded in Kevin’s head as his body informed him of his penis’s decision to blow it all in one huge finale.

He tried desperately to keep the orgasm from spreading on his face, though. Death was still just a couple feet away ...

Mr Jordan studied Kevin’s dumb grin. “Kevin, are your ... EYELIDS FLUTTERING or something?”

“Uhm, nothing,” OHGOD! OHGOD!, “just ... thinking ...” OHFUCK! OHFUCK! OHFUCK! This woman IS the honeymouth of honeymouths! “about something ...”

Kevin kept his face as calm as possible while his balls convulsed tablespoons of sperm out onto the sweet sweet tongue of the adulterous wife, so that he could, in a moment, continue speaking with the poor hubby of the woman whose mouth he had just coated down with semen ...

Mr Jordan wondered if Kevin was beginning to develop a tic ...

The Kevin became aware that Mrs Jordan was sending him a Morse code message over his deflating penis, with quick and long dick-sucks instead of dots and dashes ...

Thank God he was once a boy scout and learned Morse code ...

“Uh, if I were you, Mr Jordan,” Kevin managed to form the words, “I’d, uhm ... get her a diamond ring AANND something leather.”

He got a huge swirly tongue reward again for getting that right.

“Yeah, I’d DEFINITELY get her both ...”

“Not a bad idea, Kevin. Not a bad idea,” Mr Jordan nodded, impressed.

Guilt washed over Kevin—perhaps to fill the vacuum left by the ejaculated sperm?—that he’d just unloaded his full balls into this man’s wife’s waiting hungry mouth. While the two men discussed ... anniversary gifts ...

“You just may be wise beyond your years, son.” Mr Jordan stopped at the door before stepping out. “Well, thanks for the marital advice, Kevin. I’ll see you later.”

Mrs Jordan popped up like a very playful fuck puppy as soon as her husband was gone. “Oh baby! You HOSED ME DOWN, you made me your BITCH! Right IN FRONT OF my HUSBAND!”

“Uh, yeah,” Kevin was still bobbing up and down in a large pool of guilt. “Look, I gotta go.”

“Uh ... okay ...”

A couple days passed while Kevin digested the fact that he’d soiled a man’s wife right in front of the guy. While ... discussing crap with said guy.

Mrs Jordan had sure seemed to get off on that ...

He decided that that was NOT the proudest moment of his life. However, Jennifer Jordan was just too hot of a bitch to stop boinking! Kevin’s guilt would just have to live with it ...

He called Mrs Jordan to make sure her husband would be out, then headed next door to let himself in with the housekey she’d given him.

She greeted him wearing sheer silk lingerie. “Well, what do you think, darling? This is the ‘leather’ that YOU got for me, Kevin.”

“Uhm. Isn’t that silk and lace?”

“The leather chair BEHIND me, silly. The silk and lace ON ME are an ADDITIONAL gift Barty got me to show off ME with my new gift, the leather chair.

“Ohmigod! I got so MANY gifts because of you Kevin! C’mon, I wanna REWARD you!”

Kevin activated his alpha-male persona. “That’s good. Now ... STRIP, BITCH.”

Mrs Jordan cooed at his forcefulness and followed orders.

Within minutes they were hump-hump-humping with adulterous sex.

That, of course, is when Mr Jordan walked in. Yeah, Mrs Jordan thought he’d be out, but ... shit happens. He roared and lunged at the man fucking his wife.

Kevin found himself thrown—half-naked, remember—across the room.

Bart Jordan got his grip around Kevin’s throat and started tightening the tendons. In his head, he was going to just pop Kevin’s head off with that grip.

In reality, Kevin grrrkh’ed, which translated as: Blood! Not making it! To brain!

Mrs Jordan whined that Bart was NOT SUPPOSED to BE there!

“Bart! Stop it!” she told him, then marched over between him and Kevin to wag her finger at him. Bart’s arm was still reached around her to make Kevin continue grrrkh-ing, though—truth be told—it was not really likely to pop the head off the stem anytime soon.

“You’re going to KILL him!” Mrs Jordan chastised her husband. “And land yourself in PRISON!” Then onto the real clencher, “And I’LL have to get a JOB! To make the house payments!“

Desperate, hoping against hope, Kevin reached around the pretty naked woman standing in front of his dying body to grope her breasts.

“Jesus, Kevin!” she complained. “Not now! Now is NOT the time for ... sexsssss ...” She stalled out then, her eyes unfocusing, as she slipped into a trance.

Hoarsely, Kevin barked through his nearly-crushed throat, “Grab his chest! Grab his chest and SQUEEZE!”

Dully, Mrs Jordan reached up and gripped her husband’s pects.

“Hungh?” he demanded of his wife squeezing his chest. Then his eyes ... unfocused ...

“Tell him to let go! Tell him to let go of me!” Kevin forced through his very unhappy throat!

“Let go ...” Mrs Jordan breathed, “of Kevin ... Bart ...”

Mr Jordan dropped Kevin on his ass.

Kevin grunted when he landed, then immediately yelled, “Keep squeezing! Keep squeezing his chest!”

Christ! Kevin considered as he pulled on his pants. He HADN’T expected that to work! It was just a last-ditch attempt before death. He hadn’t known that any men had been treated in the conspiracy!

He looked at the dull Mr Jordan getting his pects squeezed.

Apparently Mr Jordan HAD been treated. Thank God! And another clue to tell Gabby about as they pieced this puzzle together.

He stepped back to Mrs Jordan and continued squeezing her tits as she massaged her husband’s pects. “Okay, Bart,” he explained, “You LOVE it when Kevin DOES your wife.”

Initially, Mr Jordan resisted the programming. “Hungh? ‘Love’ it? Naww, I—”

“You do,” Kevin insisted, “You LOVE it. The way he makes her prance around like a SLUT. Just EAGER to get BONED silly by Kevin.”

“Whungh? KEVIN?! THAT little punk—?!”

“No, no, Kevin is a STALLION of a man. He makes your wife just go MUSHY WET with excitement for him! He turns her into a MEWLING SEX KITTING just BEGGING to get DICKED SILLY!”

“I kinda DO do that, don’t I?” Mrs Jordan dully agreed, even through her trance.

But Mr Jordan was still hung up on basics. “Kevin? KEVIN?! A ‘STALLION’?!”

It took a half hour of programming just to convince Mr Jordan that Kevin could make his wife cream herself for him. And then another half hour to convince him how much liked to was her just GO WHORE for another man.

Finally, Kevin had the man correctly reciting his programming. “OHGOD, you know how HARD my dick gets watching you get FUCKED SILLY by Kevin, Jennifer ... ohgod, you FILTHY WHORING SLUT!”

“Exactly, Bart! Now YOU tell him, Jen.”

“Oh Bart, I LOVE TAUNTING you,” she sighed, “by FLAUNTING ANOTHER MAN in your face! While I just SPREAD DESPERATELY for him! Oh baby, I am IN HEAT for Kevin! And the ONLY WAY you’re EVER gonna get sex again is to whack off while watching Kevin BEND ME OVER and MAKE ME HIS BITCH!”

Now to seal the programming with masturbating to it, a trick he’d learned with his mean older sister. Stepsister, that is. “Okay Bart, you’re gonna jerk off three times a day, every time thinking about Kevin DOING your SLUTTY LITTLE WIFE! Turning her into his OWN PRIVATE LITTLE BITCH!”

“But ...” Mr Jordan asked dully, “I only whack off ... once a week ... ?”

Surprised silence ...

“Really? Just once a week?’

Mr Jordan gave a trance shrug. “Just once a week.”

More silence. It was like Kevin was contemplating an alien life form that was standing in front of him. Just once a week?!

“How long, uhm ... have you been so uninterested in sex?”

“I’ve never whacked off more than once a week,” Mr Jordan dully answered.

Holy shit! Maybe the man’s engine never got out of first gear or something?!

Maybe Kevin WAS doing his wife a tremendous favor.

Once a WEEK?!

“Well, that’s how EXCITED this makes you, Mr Jordan, thinking about Kevin BANGING THE MEWLS outta your sweet little slut wife.”

Kevin added programming to help cure poor Mr Jordan of ... that. “It’s going to make you into a normal person, whacking off three times a day, Mr Jordan, each time thinking of your wife GETTING THE FUCK DONE by Kevin.”

A couple days later, Kevin stopped by to see how the programming was taking now that it was being planted deeper by masturbating to it.

Mrs Jordan eagerly stripped and removed Kevin’s pants. And Mr Jordan sat down at the table with a huge smile on his face like his favoritest program in the world was getting ready to come on TV.

“Ohgod, here I am, just NAKED with him, Bart!” she taunted her husband as Kevin mauled her boobs from behind. “He can ...” she dropped her voice to a harsh whisper, “he can SEE ALL MY GOOD PARTS, baby! All my GOOD PARTS are just ... OPEN! On FULL DISLPLAY for him!” She wriggled with excitement. “The man is just ... OPENLY STARING at YOUR NAKED WIFE, Bart! He’s ... FEELING ME UP! And ... and ...” she whined and wriggled, “it’s TURNING ME ON, Bart!”

Kevin bent her over and entered her from behind. “Ohgod!” her voice shot up, “He’s BENDING ME OVER, Bart! He’s gonna DO me! He’s gonna DO THE FUCK OUTTA ME, baby!”

“Oh CRAP!” Mr Jordan gripped his crotch through his pants so hard that it could be called a “maul.” Mrs Jordan whimpered. “He’s ... he’s SLIDING INTO ME, Bart! Ohgod, I’m SOOOO WET that he’s slipping RIGHT INTO me! I’m so wet that it’s like a tourist on a waterslide!

“Ohgod, I am absolutely HUMILIATED by JUST HOW WET I am for him. He can SEE my excitement TRICKLING DOWN MY THIGHS! Ohsweetjesus! He KNOWS how DESPERATELY I need him to shove his DICK up INSIDE ME, Bart!

“I am nothing but a FUCKING WHORE for him!”

A goofy sex-crazed grin spread across her face as her eyes rolled partially up. “Ohgod! He fills me so FULL! He feels SO MUCH BETTER INSIDE me than you, Bart! So much FULLER! So much more ... EXCITING!

“Godfuckme, I’m just CREAMING myself! And I’m creaming all over HIM TOO!

“It’s just HUMILIATING! My pussy is just DROOLING LUBE onto his foot!

“Ohmotherofgod! He’s STROKING me! In and out and—” her voice warbled shrilly, “OHGOD!”

“Ohgod! You FUCKING WHORE!” Bart spat at her as he gripped and twisted his crotch through his pants.

“He’s DOING ME, Bart!” she shrieked, “He is FUCKING DOING your WIFE!

“And I LOVE it, Bart! Ohgod! I just love Kevin DICKING THE SHIT OUTTA ME!”

“Grrrrkh!” Mr Jordan clenched. “Crap! I just soiled this underwear. But KEEP GOING, you two! Keep going, you’re doing GREAT!”

“Thanks for your ... FREE PERMISSION ...” Kevin panted as he did Mrs Jordan, “to BANG THE LUBE ... outta your wife and ... all over the rug here ...

“Does she NORMALLY spray her excitement ... all over EVERYTHING like this? ... Like some champagne bottle that is just POPPED OPEN with SEXUAL THRILL?”

Mr Jordan shook his head as he sat there, post-climax. “No. No, she’s just THAT EXCITED by you that she’s ... spilling over and leaking EVERYWHERE.”

Mrs Jordan dribbled a little more as she arched her back and came hard, with great gulping screams.

Mr Jordan sighed. “Yeah, the kitchen is going to smell all day like Jen’s excitement ...”

As Mrs Jordan collapsed onto the table, Kevin still sunk deeply inside her, Mr Jordan nodded. “Kevin, you can bang my wife ANYTIME! Just ... let me watch sometimes while you make her BEG FOR SEX. ’Kay?”

Later that night, the married couple laid back-to-back in their marriage bed, each fingering themselves while they fantasized.

“You’re shaking the bed, Bart,” Mrs Jordan hissed. “You’re whacking yourself, thinking about him making your wife—me—into his own willing and eager little SLUT, aren’t you? You pig!”

“God, he brings out the WHORE in you, woman! You WET ... MEWLING ... SLUT OF A TWAT!”

“I am, aren’t I, Bart,” she whined, “I am just a FILTHY FUCKING WHORE for him!”

The two ... came together then.

And ... laid a little awkwardly beside each other. Having, you know ... whacked off thinking about Kevin boning the hell out of the wife, and her submissively—desperately—taking it ...