The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It Was a Dark N Stormy Night

It was a Dark N Stormy night. Which is to say that the weather was quite reasonable, just a little overcast, but Fred had been convinced by his friend Jeremy to try the rum cocktail known as a Dark N Stormy. To that end he was walking up and down the aisles of his local convenience store wondering where they kept the ginger beer, if they indeed had any.

His mind was focussed on the task at hand and he was experiencing a sort of tunnel vision, exacerbated by the long working week. Marketing might not sound like a tiring job, but jogging probably doesn’t sound like too much effort until you have to maintain it for a 10k. Fred was by all accounts an average sort of man. No real interests, average build, and aged 35. As he sidled along the aisle scanning up and down the shelves he felt a bump.

Looking down he saw that he had wedged his broad shoulders into the ample cleavage of a woman in her mid-40s. In an instant his awareness flooded with her presence. Her height was comparable to his, but accentuated by 4″ leopard print heels, and her body was curvy and plump. She was wearing skin tight shiny yoga pants and a matching tank top. The deep red of her long nails matched that of her lips, and the large ruby dangling on the necklace between the cleavage within which Fred had also found himself lodged. Her long red hair was held back by large sun-glasses propped on her forehead, and her expression was one of faint amusement, with a snarl in her lip that spoke to a cruel intention.

Fred had turned beet red. This was not the sort of woman that he was normally attracted to, but something about her seemed to completely dominate the space in the world, and he found himself aroused, craving, wanting and needing. Suddenly everything about her seemed charged with sexuality, especially from this accidental proximity. He wasn’t sure if it was the cloud of sickly sweet perfume going to his head, or if it was the tiredness from his long working week, but he found he was completely stuck in place; seemingly pinned by the deep dark eyes residing within the cat-like lashes of this woman’s face.

“My, what have we here?”

Fred struggled to stammer out a response when one long red claw placed itself sensually on his lip

“Shhhh sweetie, no need to respond to rhetorical questions, no need to respond at all”

Her dark eyes moved up and down Fred’s body and he had never felt so judged, so awkward, so inadequate. He felt almost like he was shrinking in the presence of this woman’s gaze as her other hand fondled her ruby necklace.

The long red nail had migrated from this mouth to his chest, and her hand slowly opened out on his chest over his heart and he felt a profound swelling from deep within himself. Time had stopped, the world had stopped, the only thing that existed was himself and this Woman, and he wasn’t even particularly sure about himself. He felt like flotsam bobbing up and down on waves emanating from this creature, this force of nature, this Goddess. In her profound presence he felt more acutely his own mundanity, his meaninglessness, the long stretching dusty days of greyness that were his past, present and future. In this moment, though, there was something vivid, electric and real and he felt almost like he could taste it, participate in it, simply by experiencing the presence of it; only the presence of her, and losing the presence of himself.

This was all too much and he felt the mechanical inertia of his ingrained identity and normality begin to assert itself. The cold sceptic within him refused to accept what was happening, and wished to ascribe it to an undigested bit of beef. The woman continued to stare at him, while this structure within him, built of daily routine and normalcy, began to chip at this strange and liminal experience. He found his composure beginning to regain itself, he felt his dry open mouth begin to close as he regained some saliva. Where before he shrank, now he began to rise. His awareness began to encompass the supermarket shelves; yes, a supermarket, he had been shopping. A determination began to form in his mind. He would purchase what he came here for, and go, and then try and forget this embarrassing situation, to cast it from his mind.

Just as he seemed about ready to move he felt the light tickle of the woman’s finger-nail stroking down his already erect cock. It felt like his cock was responding obediently, standing to attention with more force and enthusiasm than it ever had before. The traitorous penis no longer felt like it was his own, much as he could experience everything it was feeling. And boy did he feel it, he felt that it was a total turn-coat, craven and complicit. It belonged to Her completely and would do her bidding and, somehow, he felt that he was beholden to comply with it.

“No need to go running little boy, just relax…”

In that moment the edifice within himself was completely undermined, it collapsed, or rather was exposed for the sham it had always been. He disappeared into the deep black holes of Her eyes and was consumed by the sensory overload of experiencing her existence. Dimly, he was aware that she was talking and that he was listening, he knew there were words but didn’t know what words were any more. She coaxed and stroked and that ruby shone with a glistening light sending out deep penetrating tendrils.

Fred was staring at the bottle of ginger ale he held in his hand when he snapped back to attention. He must have been day-dreaming, he couldn’t quite remember what he had been thinking about. It must have been something good though, since he was sporting a massive boner. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, Fred stood and pretended to read the bottle while he waited for his boner to subside. Unfortunately, after some time, it just didn’t seem to be happening. Biting the bullet he moved towards the tills, collecting a bottle of rum on the way. As he stood waiting to pay he watched the sheets of water falling from the sky outside. The clerk didn’t seem to notice his boner, or at least it wasn’t so far out of their ordinary experience that they felt the need to react to it. Pulling his coat over his head he dashed to his car as a peal of thunder reverberated through the skies above him.

Arriving home Fred poured himself a drink, and added a few rocks of ice. Jeremy was right, this shit was delicious. Fred looked down at his persistent boner. How long did they say you had before you should call a doctor? 4 hours? Thankfully nowhere near that territory yet, and being home alone an elegant solution presented itself. Fred slipped off his trousers, sat down on his bed, and took another sip of his delectable drink. Looking down at his proud 8 inches he was eager to get started. Except, he didn’t seem to know how to get started. Which was strange, it is such an instinctual thing, it comes so naturally, he knew that, but he also knew he was having a bit of a mental freeze.

A peal of thunder rolled around the skies, and he thought he could hear a distant cackle. That reminded him of witches, those silly creatures of fantasy; wait, that’s right, he normally started with a fantasy! What a dolt.

He decided to just let his imagination run wild and see what bubbled up from the ether. Normally he’d think of skinny young things, like the blonde barista he likes to get coffee from. Normally he’d like to think about her submitting to him, and dressing her up in a sexy school uniform, spanking her hard and fucking her hard. But not every time had to be a normal time, and today he found himself imagining something quite different. Taking another sip of his drink, he admired the way the rum and ginger slid across each other and the melting ice. He imagined he could see the twinkle of something deep dark and red in there, he imagined he could see the face of an older woman, in her mid 40s, with plump red lips, and the faint signs of crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes; eyes with liner and long plump lashes. She stood towering above him as he knelt at her feet, naked, weak, pathetic; and he found himself kneeling on his bedroom floor. She demanded worship, but more than that, her nature demanded it. By dint of her magnificence he could not help but worship her as his eyes travelled across her body. It seemed almost with his mind’s eye that he could see her from every angle, and worship her from every angle. Her giant plump breasts, her luscious beautiful ass, her long chubby legs. All of this exuded a raw sexuality that evoked a smell of sweat, oil and also something sickly sweet. He fancied that on the edge of this complex aroma he could also smell the hot wet arousal of her pussy, and he realised that not only could he perceive her from every angle externally, but that he was aware of her heaving wet pussy. Even though they were clad in a skin-tight shiny spandex tank top he could perceive the fullness of her breasts and nipples.

But this was not all his mind’s eye could see, it could also see several different frames of time all simultaneously. In this one his face is buried deep in her pussy, he licks and licks and rubs his face covering it in her juices as they soak into his skin. In the next he is painting her toe-nails and kissing her feet. In another moment he is performing analingus, burying his tongue deep in her asshole. In the next she rides up and down on top of him with her breasts dwarfing his cock as she laughs at how small it is. And it does seem small in comparison, but then he realises, it is also shrinking. Smaller and smaller as her laughter grows more and more cruel. In his fantasy it is still standing to perfect attention, but now it is just 2 inches long. Concerned Fred looks down at his own penis, and is relieved to see that it is still a proud 7 inches erect, as it always has been. His concern abated he gives himself fully back over to the fantasy.

His mind buzzing with all of these different scenes and scenarios he becomes aware of this Goddess’ will. She requires of him a ritual worship in which he gives himself fully over to her, in which he accepts her control, in which he is helpless but to obey. He finds his finger tracing its way to his perineum, between his balls and ass, where he begins to gently tease and tickle himself while the words begin to slip out of his mouth “I exist to serve, submit and obey for my goddess”. He repeats the words over and over and over again growing more and more excited as his cock jolts and shudders until finally he cums into his boxers; he hadn’t even realised he was still wearing them.

Falling backwards his mind races and falls into the beautiful oblivion of orgasm and he smiles contentedly thinking of that perfect Goddess. It is in that moment that an odd thought occurs to him, and he wonders how he hadn’t realised it before. The Goddess of his dreams and fantasies, the one to whom he submits completely, bears an uncanny resemblance to Janice from accounting.