The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The plastic trash bags tried desperately to wriggle their way out of his hands, and before they succeeded, and spilled his laundry all over the curb, he quickly set the bag down. Alex wiped the sweat off his forehead with his right shoulder. Since he was wearing a short-sleeved red polo with its collar popped from his morning’s jog, he didn’t have a sleeve he could wipe his brow upon. He looked exhaustedly up to the sun, hoping perhaps for an eclipse or one of those big eastern clouds to miraculously roll into the perpetually blue L.A. sky. Knowing his prayers would most likely be lumped into the rain dances and harvest celebrations of years past that were also unerringly ignored by Minerva’s snow-white marble eyes, he sighed and took a new grip on the feisty bag.

The Fast-n-Clean laundry mat that Alex went to was the closest to his house. Where it won in geography, it lost horrendously in cleanliness of its facilities and suburban normality of its patrons. The laundry mat had an adjoining bathroom in a separate building on the side. He remembered it was once was used by two lesbians to have an afternoon playtime session while they waited for their laundry, and while the other patrons (some unsuccessfully) suppressed chortles outside. The Fast-n-Clean was adorned not with symmetrically placed statues of grand impression, but rather symmetrically broken benches, symmetrically placed on either side of the safety-glass double doors leading in. The one consistently asymmetric aspect of their arrangement was Mr. Poll, the owner, who would always sit on the shady bench (whichever that was at that time of day). One might fancy they could judge their fortunes within the Fast-n-Clean based on whether this owner would greet them or not as they entered.

This however did not occur to Alex as he walked by the owner ungreeted, and in the awkward manner of someone who has been carrying 35lbs. of laundry in each hand. What felt like darkness inside was merely his eyes adjusting to the absence of total light. Since his shirt was a polo, even though it fit snugly, the knitted nature of the garment allowed the cold air to do its welcomed work efficiently. Still in a daze from his strenuous trek to the Fast-n-Clean, Alex didn’t see the person he bumped his shoulder into while getting to the free machine. Even still, once he realized that his shoulder bumped into someone, he still noticed the variegated array of spilled panties on the floor before he noticed the accompanying girl on her butt beside them. He stared at the different patterns and colors, some had small diminutive pop icons printed on them, some were striped, some were just reflective or frilly. He was lucky that he wore briefs, because his erection was hidden from public view. Then like his alarm clock, a noise was getting gradually louder and louder until he woke up and realized what was going on.

“HEY! Can’t you hear me!? MOVE!", the accompanying girl on the floor was now tugging at something under his foot, he looked down, and then all at once his social propriety came back to him in a flood. He jumped off the pinned pair of panties with a devout apology that was the beginning of a long list of ‘sorries’. He tried to bow his way out of the situation and move toward the washing machine. He would have helped her pick up the spilt clothing if they weren’t so intimate. “Fucking asshole!” Something in Alex besides his penis took a stand just then. Having walked so far he was already irritated, and he had apologized profusely to this girl, he felt this language was over the line.

“Excuse me, but I don’t think I deserve your insults, it was a genuine accident and I apologized profusely and sincerely”, Alex replied.

“What? And your staring at my underwear for twenty seconds, was that also an accident asshole!?”

A tall wiry man with long red hair walked up and swept the remainder of the panties into a basket he was holding.

“Honey, you are making a scene...", he pleaded.

“Shut up!”

“Yes ma’am”, he responded.

“And you! Look at me and apologize for being an asshole!” Alex felt the heat from her intensity, even though it was air conditioned inside. He dared not look at her, this whole thing would just go away if he ignored her. “DO IT!” she snapped. Alex opened his trash bag and started picking up clothes to put into the washing machine he had open. He heard foot steps behind him and then the sole of a heavy boot pushed into his back and shoved him into the washing machine, forcing him to spill the clothes he had in hand. His erection stiffened and the nerves on the tip of his penis buzzed with anticipation when his hips were pushed into the machine. He was afraid he’d have to face that girl, because he was definitely not going to apologize, but then he heard the foot steps walk away and he relaxed. The owner walked by Alex now to fill up the change machine with a bucket he had, and as he walked by he whispered.

“Oohweee! Girls feisty these days! Not your usual girl either!” Alex turned around to see what Mr. Poll meant. The girl that he knocked down by mistake was on the opposite side of the Fast-n-Clean now. She was wearing a skin-tight tank-top with camouflage cargo shorts and black laced up military boots. Her shoulder blades and muscles shouted angrily with each thrust of clothes that she jammed into the maw of the machine. When it was stuffed, she slammed the door shut and jerked the handle closed, her neck-length dyed blue hair catching up to the rest of her head as it cocked itself back toward where he was standing. Her eyes were cold, but not the marble cold of Minerva, but rather the tempestuous stir of some rebellious avenging angel. He turned back toward his task hoping she didn’t notice. He heard ‘Asshole!’ in reply to his ill-timed gawking and Mr. Poll winced on his behalf before returning to his task of filling the change machine.

Both Alex and the other pair had a lot of laundry to do that day. The LED clock on the wall measured out the time spent by Alex nervously trying not to look at the couple at any point, and the time spent by the girl complaining vociferously to her wiry companion. Just like how the smell of a foreign house is soon forgotten when one has stayed there too long, the girl’s complaints were insulated away by Alex’s meditations.

Alex decided to check his laundry, and it was then he noticed that the girl and her friend were gone, but their laundry was still swirling around in the washing machine. He looked at the clock and saw it was late, 9:30pm. All the other customers were gone, and Mr. Poll was sitting in the shabby executive office chair asleep in the back. Alex shrugged, and went back to waiting. He started thinking about that girl, and how vicious she was. He couldn’t get rid of that image of her shoving his form into the machine, of her angrily loading the machine, and how toned her back was. He became erect again. He was sitting on the floor, and his running shorts were very short, so he just reached into the right leg, and with a careful look to ensure he would hear anybody coming before they could see him, he reached into the right leg portal of his briefs and stroked his penis.

Alex lost himself in the swirling mass of erotic thought, it carried him from common sense to deadly adventure. It made him believe a hoax, that it would be alright to see what that couple was doing, maybe they were in the bathroom, maybe he could peep, and probably they wouldn’t see him. He could get back at that bitch, he could watch her suck that guy’s dick and pretend it was his dick she was sucking. As she would suck, he’d imagine that she, overcome with compromising sexual instinct, would apologize, and would say that swallowing his wad would be the least she could do, that she’d enjoy it anyway. With some resistance, he pulled his hand away from its current task before he came and got onto his feet. Their dryer load still had a good fifteen minutes left, they’d be right in the middle of it he thought. He looked back at Mr. Poll, seeing he was still quite unconscious, he walked through the glass double doors, and snuck around the back of the adjacent bathroom. He quietly stacked a few palettes that were leaning up against the building in front of the bathroom window. The window itself was in the manner of all windows in shitty bathrooms, it was small, narrow, and near the ceiling. It opened as a vent does, just like all those shitty bathroom windows do, and it was open right now. With the palettes stacked as they were, he could comfortably look in. He ducked and looked out the corner of the window so as to reduce his visibility.

‘What the fuck?’ he thought to himself. Of all situations he saw in his head, he didn’t see the guy on his knees sucking off the chick. What the hell? The wiry figure’s head bobbed back and forth while his back remained relatively still, like a swan. It was hard for him to see, the bathroom lights were off, so he strained to look, but it looked like the girl’s cock was... black!? She must be wearing a strap-on he concluded. This was weirder than the lesbians. Her cargo shorts were completely unbuttoned and unzipped, but remained otherwise in place, she chose only to offer her prosthetic cock to this kneeling peasant, she was otherwise fully clothed as before. Alex wondered to himself what was in it for her, she couldn’t feel anything.

Coming back to the image beneath him, he saw something different, the man was not there! He was going to check to see if he was still alone, but he heard some muffled noise and his eyes couldn’t move. His mind lost track of the image in front of him for a while, and his cock became itself: turgid. Out of his confusion a single fact became obvious to him now, the girl was locking eyes with his, she was staring at him with more focus then he had ever known. She saw him! He started to move his head again, and this time he heard the words clearly:

“Do NOT look away! Stand STILL! Glenn is coming to fetch you and bring you inside, you will go with him, you will not resist, GOT THAT ASSHOLE!?". Those words that came from the girl’s mouth were now audible to him, they were audible before. Something else, her eyes were glowing slightly! He was frozen, like the color of the light coming from her eyes, that were the purest light in the dingy bathroom. She stood there full of command and focus, staring at him, fully dressed but for her fully unzipped shorts that seemed like they could not contain the rigid instrument protruding from her waist. He stumbled slightly as Glenn pulled him down from the palettes he was standing upon and led him into that terrifying dark-blue lit space. Behind him he heard the door rudely shut out the night air of L.A.

Now Alex was inside the bathroom adjoining the Fast-n-Clean. Alex heard another muffled noise and he was pushed down by a hand pressing down on his shoulders. He recognized this position from Karate, his feet folded beneath his buttocks, his knees spread, and his back straight and arched back slightly. He could feel the edges of his sneakers through his thin running shorts and briefs, the cold tiled floor pushed its sand into his knees. The warm dark air filled the space around his arms and chest exposed by his red polo. This time he heard her clearly. “Hold your hands behind your back... DO IT!” His cock raged in its untouched agony, and he eagerly held his hands behind his back. They were alone now in that small shitty bathroom somewhere in L.A., and he was captive to the alien blue glow of this avenging angel’s eyes. He was frightened, and aroused, he couldn’t run, his cock wouldn’t let him. He and this Glenn beside him were little dark silhouettes next to a blue star in a dark volume. “First you knock my fucking PANTIES all over the floor, then you apologize after STARING at them. Now you are fucking STARING at me through the bathroom!? You little fucking PERVERT in your faggy little fucking jogging uniform! I can’t BELIEVE your fucking GALL!!", she looked to one side, then Alex saw something miraculous and terrifying, he saw wings unfold from this angry girl’s back, they filled the rest of the room and created a temple out of her and her strap-on. The locked eyes prevented him from passing out or screaming in terror. He was forced by a combination of domination of will power and sexual arousal to remain calm. She calmed down now, her wings also relaxing. “You, it, it calls me master. It is under mind control, I own it, say it back to me.” She ordered. Alex grimaced and tried to look away. “SAY IT FUCK HEAD!!!". The line repeated in his head, he didn’t want to say it, because it was untrue, but he wanted to say it, so he could have the orgasm of his life. Would saying it make it true? He didn’t want to risk it, but even as he considered the thought, the rest of his body had already decided, and he found himself uttering something.

“I call you master. I am under mind control. You own me.” Alex said smoothly and calmly, only the bulge now visible from his kneeling moved in pulsations.

“You gay? Suck cock?", she asked quickly.

“No master.", Alex replied firmly.

She stood in a confident stance, her feet distanced, her hands on her hips, and she stared straight into his feeble eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that, alright dick head, suck it.” The tempestuous eyes he saw before were now raging like the polar Atlantic in a terrifying storm. The frightening phallic object leered at him through its single eye. He couldn’t look back though, his eyes were still transfixed on the dominating mechanism of his master. He felt a rubber tip at his lips, like the involuntary reflex he’d felt during a physical, his mouth opened, allowing the black thing to slowly slide into his mouth. It was slimy, still covered with Glenn’s spittle. Alex’s lips formed a stiff portal, and he kept his tongue pressed against the base of his mouth to avoid touching it. He couldn’t avoid touching his tongue to it though: with his gaze still locked on her eyes, his head was tilted back too far for him to help but press his tongue against the invading force. His face looked like he was tasting something sour. “It likes it” she said. Alex said no to himself. Alex’s cock said yes to anything at this point however. “It like it” she repeated. Alex capitulated and obeyed: his lips became soft and form-fitting, his neck loosened, his face softened, and now he was the bird bobbing its head back and forth. “Glenn, be a dear and get my camera out of the bag and take some photos of cock boy here...” she said. Glen complied as Alex heard the sounds of a camera’s mechanisms recording his humiliation.

Alex felt his head pushed back. “Alright fuck head, it gets up off its knees and puts down the lid on the toilet seat, then takes off its faggy shorts and briefies.” The girl stood back so Alex could get by. Alex obediently got up, and put down the toilet seat, then pulled down his shorts and underwear, working them around his shoes. Was she going to suck him? He was afraid of what else she might do. He was afraid in general. “Glenn, drop trou.” she ordered. Glenn unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped his pants, then let them fall to his ankles. He was wearing designer briefs, they were seamless, black with an orange waist band, and they were hip briefs. “Glenn, masturbate for it.” Glenn reached into his underwear and did as instructed. The fabric showing the impression of his hand sliding up and down, with the tip showing every now and then. Alex looked away. “NO! IT WATCHES!! It stands at attention with its arms behind its back” Alex’s master ordered. Alex’s erection which was once bounded was now untethered by elastic and shrouds. Alex’s penis arched its back eagerly, pointing its head obediently upward. Alex resisted, but again his sexual drive overwhelmed him.

“Yes master.” Alex said. He wanted to mutter it, but he couldn’t even do that. He stared intently at Glenn’s masturbation. He felt wrong being hard like this while looking at another man. The winged girl walked by him, the glow in her eyes decreasing in intensity now.

“It puts its hands on the sink, and keeps looking at Glenn.”

“Yes master”, Alex replied. He took a step and turned to face the sink, putting his hands on it.

“It offers itself like a bitch in heat to its master.” She said. Alex didn’t move. “SLAVE, DO IT!” Alex whimpered slightly. He cursed himself for watching any porn ever, for knowing exactly how a ‘bitch in heat’ would offer herself. However the domination of his will through his erection was too strong for mere impropriety, and his buttocks gleefully presented themselves to his master, while his back curved in sensual anticipation. The winged girl made her house in Alex, and Alex bent with the thrusts. She timed herself to the strokes of Glenn so Alex would know it was a cock that he was being taken by, that he would soon cum by. “Slave, look, in, the, mirror” the girl said. He saw her blue fire staring back at him. “This is what a pussy like you wearing your pussy shirt and your pussy shorts looks like when he crosses the fucking LINE, he GETS what he WANTS, what he’s always WANTED.” Alex shook his head, but he was about to throw ropes onto the floor, and he was now voluntarily thrusting to meet thrust. “You WANT IT ASSHOLE!” the girl screamed. Alex’s eyes became saturated, and tears started to trickle down his cheek. “You want it so bad, you are going to apologize for being a fuck head, and then you are going to stick this dildo in your ass every fucking week, you GOT THAT? You’ve got a pussy now, and it gets HUNGRY! SAY IT!” Alex moaned.

“I want it bad, I’m sorry for begin a fuck head. I will stick this dildo in my ass. I have a pussy now, and it gets hungry.” He coughed.

“EVERY FUCKING WEEK ASSHOLE, EVERY WEEK, SAY IT!”

“Every week!", Alex yelped, and then came. The girl detached the dildo from her strap-on and left it in Alex.

“Take it out when you get home. Take your shit and never come back here again dick head. You’re lucky I didn’t claw out your fucking throat.” Glenn blew his load onto Alex’s face, and then pulled his pants up and left with the girl, whose wings had now retracted into her back. They left Alex collapsed and on the floor, to do what he was told to.