The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

By the time Scott pulled into the driveway, he was almost late. He hoped that meant he could get in and out fast.

He just needed a shelf. He’d finally gotten the garage clean, and he wanted somewhere to store the five cans of paint he hadn’t tossed out. One quick search of the internet classifieds later and he was on the phone to an older woman on the other side of town.

“If you want it now, you’d have to come right away,” she told him. “My husband and I have an important appointment at four o’clock.”

Scott had winced, knowing it would be tight. But he desperately wanted to put the garage to rest before dinner. So he’d agreed and popped inside to tell Amy he was running out.

“Oh,” his wife mock-pouted. She was still sexy after raising two college-age kids — kids now older than Scott and Amy had been when they’d gotten married. She had reached out to fondle his cock through his jeans. “I was hoping we’d have a few minutes before the kids got here.”

He had been sorely tempted to stay, strip her clothes off, toss her on the king-size bed, and bang the hell out of his foxy wife. But instead he’d murmured, “I bet we can find a few minutes later. We don’t have to get up early tomorrow, remember?” And he’d growled and she’d purred and given his bulge another squeeze, and then he’d hopped in the SUV and now he was here, with about two minutes to spare.

1501 Longwood Lane. A modest little home. Probably built a century ago. It looked entirely unassuming. Somewhere your grandmother might live, Scott thought as he came up the walk.

The older woman opened the door. “Hello,” she said, ushering him in. “I’m Darla. The shelf is back here.”

He followed her out of the small entry. The house was warm for the late-spring weather — not quite uncomfortably so, but close. It smelled strongly of something that was fruity and spicy and musky all at once. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, Scott thought as he inhaled. But it was making him feel a bit funky.

“I’m sorry, I meant to get here earlier,” he said, having to concentrate for a moment to get the words out properly. He wasn’t really especially sorry, but it was the right thing to say, he thought.

Darla turned and smiled as she led him through the living room, where a man around her age sat in an armchair reading a book. It was a sweet smile. Wasn’t it? Something felt off, Scott faintly realized. But he brushed away that thought. This was a couple of folks in their sixties. He was just going to give her some money and pick up the shelf and go.

“It’s not a problem,” she said. “We’re happy to have you here.” She gestured at the man in the chair. “That’s William. William, this man is taking the shelf from the office.”

William glanced away from his book at the clock on the shelf, which showed 3:59. “It’s almost time,” he said. “Will he be staying?”

Darla chuckled. It was a sweet laugh. Or was there an odd…edge to it? Scott smushed down the feeling of inexplicable alarm growing within him. The scent in the air seemed to hit him with renewed force. He didn’t feel dizzy. He felt — open? Opened up? Like everything happening around him was a show and he could only watch as a spectator.

“I think he just might,” she said.

“Uh…” Scott wasn’t sure what to say as she led him down a hall to a room near the end on the left. He wished she would walk faster. He felt so strange, but he knew he wanted to go. “I don’t think…”

“Here it is.” She waved him in. “It used to be our son’s, but he got married and we haven’t seen his family in a while.”

The shelf that was pictured in the ad sat on the floor of the little home office, ready to be picked up. Scott went to do so and then remembered he needed to pay her.

“Uh, so $10 is OK?” It was silly to ask, he thought; he knew the price from the ad. But it was what you did.

The older woman smiled again. She was between him and the door. And even though the smile was sweet, a part deep inside of Scott felt like he was in a room with a predator. That part might have been screaming, he realized, distantly. He couldn’t quite tell because he was just thinking about how weird and good that smell was now, how he would hate to leave it.

He realized that while there was no doubt Darla had the body of an older woman — some pudge, some drooping — she was curvy. And her eyes were animated and knowing. They scared him, but tempered by the sweet smell of the house, the fear felt like a thrill.

Scott groaned as his penis, which had been half-hard already from thinking about Amy on the drive over, snapped into rigidity with disturbing speed. “Ohhh!” he gasped, doubling over slightly as his dick pushed painfully against the crotch of his jeans. He adjusted himself, shifting it to a more comfortable position, never taking his eyes off of Darla as she looked on, her smile unwavering.

“I think it should be a thousand dollars,” she chirped.

“What?” Scott mumbled in shock. His dick was twitching so much that he couldn’t keep it comfortable in his pants. It was also leaking pre-come, he realized. More than he’d ever leaked before. A horrifying large wet spot was spreading on his thigh.

“A thousand dollars,” the old lady repeated. “Take out your checkbook and write me a check for $1,000. Or all of the money in your account. Whichever is more.”

Scott started to speak, and then whimpered and reeled as an implausibly vivid image splashed across his consciousness: him, naked from the waist down, hooting and thrusting and swinging his steely erection at Darla, making it dance for her, the pre-fuck juice flying from the tip of his cock, landing on everything including her. A tsunami of arousal tore through him. He wanted it. Didn’t he?

“I don’t have my checkbook,” he finally gasped.

“Oh.” She shook her head in feigned concern, but the smile remained. “Maybe we should go through your phone, then.”

What? That doesn’t make any sense, Scott thought. The terrified part deep inside suddenly made itself shiningly clear, just for a moment. “I have to get out of here!” he cried, pushing past Darla.

Bam. In the hall, he ran into six feet, two inches of William. Like his wife, the older man didn’t appear younger than his age. But he was solidly built, and taller than Scott. He took up most of the hallway, blocking Scott’s passage.

“It’s time,” William announced.

“I know!” Darla sang as she moved from the office into the last room on the right — their bedroom, Scott realized faintly.

He wanted to push past William, he knew he should push past him, but it was like that wasn’t even an option. The scent in the air was even stronger now, and noticeably more animal. Meatier. It activated something way down deep inside him, deeper than he’d ever even thought a person went. It made him want things. Things a straight married father should never want.

And now he wanted them so bad. He didn’t even know what they were. But he recognized that he would always want them from now on.

He giggled fearfully. His whole life story, everything he knew about himself — rewritten because he’d walked into a little house to buy a used shelf less than five minutes ago.

“What’s happening?” he half-whined, looking expectantly at William, who nudged him backward into the bedroom.

The older man smiled and inhaled long and audibly through his nose, gesturing for Scott to do the same. Scott felt like his entire being was saturated with the strange carnal aroma; as he sucked in, he felt a large blast of pre-come shoot out of his hard dock. It wasn’t an orgasm — he was trembling with arousal, arousal that surpassed anything he’d felt as a horny teenager — but the load was as big as many wads he’d blown in his life.

Scott waddled backward into the bedroom. He realized his belt was unbuckled, his fly unzipped, and his pants were around his knees. He stumbled. William reached toward him and lifted the T-shirt off of Scott’s body.

Scott tumbled back onto the bed. It was small — only a full size. He thought about William and Darla, squished together, barely clothed or maybe naked, under the covers, and shuddered as his erection twitched again. He wished he could be squished in between their bodies.

His legs were up in the air, and William grabbed one and pulled the shoe off Scott’s foot, and then the sock, but not before running his nose up and down the fabric over the arch. “Mmm,” William murmured. He yanked off the sock, repeated the process with Scott’s other foot, and then tugged Scott’s jeans to the floor.

Scott was on his back in nothing but his black sport briefs on these strangers’ bed. His penis throbbed. He began to twist around, alternately thrusting his ass and crotch at them. He wanted to be sexual. He hoped they would be aggressively sexual with him.

Darla had slipped her own clothes off, and now wore only a lace, cream-colored bra and panty set. Her big round tits threatened to spill out from the cups of the brassiere, and Scott could easily see that her areolae were brown and spread out wide on the front of her breasts. He thought about how’d lucky he’d feel just to rub his cockhead over those breasts and maybe even ejaculate on them.

She moved toward him, pushing him gently back onto the bed and straddling him. Her panties were translucent enough that Scott could see her pussy sported a thick, dark bush. William had stepped back and undressed as well. He was unbuttoning his shirt after folding his slacks and putting them away, but watching the action on the bed intently, eyes sparkling.

Darla leaned forward and put her lips near Scott’s ear. She began to grind her pantied crotch against the bulge in his briefs.

“It’s time for humpies,” she whispered, her breath tickling him.

As she said it, she pushed her cunt against him, just a bit harder, just the tiniest bit — creating just enough delightful friction to send the most delicious sensation his cock had ever experienced racing through Scott’s body. He made an incoherent noise, and another blast of pre-jizz spurted from his hard-on to soak his undies. They were more wet than dry now.

He imagined for a moment this was happening in the supermarket. Standing in his filthy, cum-wet briefs and humping the air as shocked customers passed him. Humping the air because, he realized, Darla would never do that. Darla didn’t do things like that. Nor did William. Men like Scott did things like that.

She continued to slide her panties over the fabric of his bulge, purposefully. He could tell she was keeping the nub of her clit pressed hard against the underside of his erect penis, as she traveled up and down and up it slowly but steadily. She whimpered and shook, and he knew Darla had just had a tiny orgasm.

He didn’t feel proud to have given it to her. Scott understood that she had taken it from him. She was humping his penis as if it were a sex toy, and not a special one — just one that could do the job. On some level, he recognized that he didn’t matter at all to Darla or to William, that maybe they even hated him, though they had no reason to, and knowing that while at the same time realizing they were now his favorite sexual partners and that humpies was about to become the top priority in his life, took him a wholly new level of arousal.

Perhaps foolishly, that part of him that knew something was very wrong managed to push one last message through. What about Amy? He had been looking forward to sex with his gorgeous wife later that evening.

He let out a sharp, involuntary laugh as he realized he would trade away Amy, the kids, the house, anything for just a few more minutes of humpies with Darla and William. With that, the part that had been trying to save Scott blinked out. He hadn’t even been in the house for twenty minutes. Not even twenty minutes, that part thought as it died.

Scott didn’t have to do anything to enjoy the humpies. Darla was grinding on him with increasing ferocity, and he could feel the climaxes rippling through her body, from cunt up to the top of her head and down to the tips of her toes. Oh, I wish I could eat William’s come off of her toes, Scott thought. He pressed back hard against Darla, not even questioning that latest thought, the first he’d ever had like it.

Amy was capable of multiple orgasms, usually after a few margaritas, so Scott understood it was possible. But with Darla it was different. It wasn’t clear if she was having one incredibly long orgasm punctuated with dozens of climaxes, or orgasm after orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. It was probably a meaningless distinction, Scott thought. Either way, she was coming hard and longer each time. The older woman’s face had taken on a manic expression — she looked like she was having a religious experience, but not for any god a sane human being would put their faith in. Her tongue was poking out as she hissed and hyperventilated and pushed her lace-covered pussy down harder against Scott’s bulge. By now, her own wetness had drenched the panties, and she was starting to squirt all over his crotch. He realized how sexy and important it was that she use his penis this way but without giving him real access to her hot, hairy bush.

Another vision overwhelmed him: Darla in Scott’s bedroom, on top of Amy, humping her this way, both women in just their underwear. Amy squirting back. The mess would never stop.

“William,” Darla breathed through gritted teeth. “William, I’m ready.”

She lifted her crotch off of Scott, and all-new sensations rushed through his penis and to his brain. He couldn’t believe how good it felt. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t come yet. He wanted to do humpies all day and never come.

William was peeling the sodden panties off of his wife. His own erection — Scott noted numbly that it was much bigger than his own penis — jutted out proudly as he removed his own white briefs. Dismissively, the older man tossed the panties and the briefs onto Scott’s face.

A huge thrill raced through Scott as the odors of the underwear, feminine and richly masculine, penetrated his olfactory sense. This was the single greatest thing that had ever happened to him. He humped the air in his own black briefs like an idiot.

Darla hovered over him on all fours. Neither she nor William was paying him any attention as the older man slid his prodigious cock into her hairy snatch. She cried out in indisputable ecstasy. Having so many orgasms doing her humpies on him had probably made her cunt very sensitive, Scott thought. Now she was having even more.

He felt stupid for even thinking of sex with Amy, he realized with embarrassment. For ever having sex with her at all. Their sex was nothing. They might as well have never met and just spent their whole lives masturbating. He felt lucky he was getting to experience sex that mattered with William and Darla.

Time melted into something else. Every time Scott thought the older couple was done fucking, William would adjust his position slightly, and Darla would begin to shake and thrash anew. At times she babbled, drooling spilling out of her mouth. She ground up against Scott’s bulge with her wet cunt again, as William slipped out of her for a moment, and muttered something at the younger man that sounded disturbingly otherworldly.

Then she whispered, “Can’t stop now.” His sodden underpants were abruptly flooded with warmth, and while he told himself she must have squirted again, on a more private level he grasped that Darla had just pissed all over him. It was all too important for her to get up and use the bathroom. So this was part of sex now, Scott thought in a haze.

It happened at least one more time. Scott couldn’t keep track of anything. All he could do was hump the air. William and Darla moved up and down over his prone body, she exhorting him to pound her harder and deeper while he approvingly encouraged her orgasms. Her wet muff dangled over Scott’s face and he wondered if William had orgasmed inside of her himself, and just kept fucking — globs of what looked and felt and tasted like semen dripped and spattered on the younger man’s face and in his open mouth.

How am I going to tell Amy about this? Scott wondered as Darla pushed her clit against his forehead and William’s full, ripe balls slapped his chin. He would have to show her, he reasoned. He giggled as he imagined Amy catching him in their marital bed with strange men and women.

He was still giggling, off and on, when Darla pressed her slippery pussy lips against the lips on his face. He barely noticed as she shuddered through one long, final climax, spurting into his mouth. William slid out of her and Darla rolled off of Scott.

With some alarm, Scott noted that it was dark outside. The sun had still hung relatively high in the sky when he’d arrived. He looked at the clock and realized it was after nine.

He looked at Darla and William in fear. “I need…” he stammered in a small voice. “I need…”

He wasn’t sure what he needed.

But William nodded, smiling. He knew.

The larger man’s fat, long cock stood up firmly, pressing against his lower abdomen. He was as hard as a teenage boy, Scott realized in wonder. Scott’s own, smaller penis was erect and aching, but softened ever so slightly in his dark briefs.

William climbed onto the bed and knelt on the end in front of Scott. He reached down and put his hands firmly on Scott’s buttocks, lifting the younger man so that his ass was in the air and the tip of his cock poked out of the waistband of the black briefs, the slit aimed at Scott’s own face.

Is he going to fuck me now? Scott wondered. He was excited by the idea, mostly.

But on another level, he understood that William didn’t fuck men like him. Not William.

Slowly, ever so slowly, William began to slide his big naked erection up and down and up and down Scott’s bulge. The older man closed his eyes. His breathing increased. He looked like he was contemplating a truly magnificent experience.

Scott’s penis got harder in his undies. He started leaking — no, spurting now — pre-come again, as the older man humped him. In this position, the pre-come squirted out and hit Scott in the face.

He imagined everyone in the office seeing him like this. His cock throbbed at the thought. He realized with what should have been panic, but somehow transmuted into excitement, that there was a non-zero chance he’d describe the scenario to his co-workers on Monday.

Holy shit, FIRED. He marveled at how deliriously horny the thought made him.

Above him, William was rubbing his rock-hard dick against Scott even faster, and whispering as if to himself, eyes open now. “Humpies. Humpies. We need our daily humpies.”

His eyes flicked down and locked onto Scott’s. “Unlock your phone,” he ordered.

Scott’s eyes widened, but he reached out and took it as Darla handed him his smartphone. He entered the passcode, saying it out loud as he typed it, in case the older man or woman needed access again at any other time.

Darla giggled once more as he dazedly handed the phone to William, barely able to focus on anything but the sensation of the hard penis sliding over his own formerly straight genitals.

He had just wanted a shelf, he thought with astonishment.

The shutter sound went off as William took several pictures — pictures of Scott, penis poking out of a pair of sodden briefs, cum and other fluids drying on his face. And William’s cock was visible too, humping back and forth against him. When the sound stopped, Scott realized William was recording a video from the same angle.

“Wouldn’t that make a nice Facebook post,” Darla murmured, watching them from next to the little bed.

A pang of sheer pleasure ran through Scott’s cock at the thought of every one of his family, friends, and acquaintances seeing him like this.

His grown-up kids seeing this.

Everything would change, he realized.

The phone fell out of William’s hand as the older man shifted and ground his massive dong harder against Scott’s useless undies. William was chanting softly to himself now.

“Humpies. Humpies. Humpies. Humpies. Humpies. HuUUUH—”

With a grunt and an enormous groan, William began to ejaculate. Fat ropes of come flew out of his cock-slit, coating Scott’s bewildered face and mouth. The warm, sticky splooge hitting his tongue triggered something inside him — a need he realized he’d been ignoring for hours — and his own cock went off, spraying wildly. William squeezed his ass cheeks tight, holding Scott in place until both orgasms were finished.

Scott lay on the little bed in the little bedroom with his own load of sperm and another man’s in his mouth. He swallowed because he knew he should. There were so many rules for sex now, rules he never would have considered before visiting 1501 Longwood.

This is insane, he thought, as his orgasm faded and the shame washed over him. William and Darla were pulling on bathrobes, smirking at him. Scott had to laugh. It came out sounding more like a strangled cry.

The shelf was in the back of the SUV. Darla had made him give her all of the cash in his pockets, plus everything he could find in the car. Eighty-four dollars for a silly little shelf. “Thank you,” he’d said as he handed her the money. “Thank you very much.”

She’d given him a warm washcloth to wipe his face and upper body clean. He had pulled his clothes back on. He wasn’t allowed to change his sopping-wet underwear. He understood that, somehow.

William had handed him his phone as Scott climbed into the driver’s seat.

“You have some fun photos, and a very fun video, now,” the older man had said. His smile was certainly not exactly sweet. “You’ll masturbate to them, but they’re also for sharing. Not on Facebook. Not yet. But send them to people. Women you find attractive. People who might not like you. Men in your professional network.”

Scott had nodded distantly, horrified inside. His shame and confusion were growing as the smell from inside the house faded from senses.

“We hope you’ll come visit us again,” she’d said as he lugged the shelf to the car. “And bring your wife. Our son used to bring his wife, but they stopped coming. For now.” Darla smiled, just like William.

Something dark and nasty curled up inside Scott as he was overtaken by a vision of himself leading Amy up to the door. His cock stiffened in his pants and he gasped as it spurted in a small, messy but unsatisfying orgasm. Somehow he managed to close the door and start the car.

“Drive safely!” Darla called as she and William waved from the doorstep. Scott pulled away in shock.