The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The two guards had now fallen completely under Kristine’s control. She led our little group, sweeping past the exhibits and down the stairs like she owned the place. Everyone else seemed to think she owned the place, too. All the tourists submissively backed away from Kristine as she strode by. Behind her, the two guards followed side by side. I brought up the rear. I heard the sergeant’s voice coming from the hand radios on the guards’ belts. “What are you doing? Robertson? Flores? Respond, dammit!”

No one did respond at first. We walked in hurried silence as the guards thought of what to say. Or rather, Kristine thought for them. Flores, the muscular, broad-shouldered Hispanic guy, finally picked up his radio. “We’re bringing them in, sergeant. For interrogation.”

I grimaced.

“What!? Don’t bring them down here!” said the man on the radio. “You hear me? I mean it!” He sounded a little scared.

“He saw everything,” Kristine said with a grumble, not taking the time to look back at me.

“We should scram. This is such a bad idea,” I said.

Kristine made an exasperated sound, and sped up. But she didn’t turn towards the exit. So the plan was still the same—get to this sergeant and stop him before he could spread the word about us. So our little band brushed straight past the information desk, and marched up to the “Museum Personnel Only” door that led to the service stairway. Kristine made the guards go in first. Kristine and I followed. The heavy door closed with a clang behind us, shutting out the sound of the tourist crowd and the National Museum of the American Indian. After the echo of the closing door, all was quiet.

We crept down the stairs, instinctively moving slowly so we could hear any trouble. There were no windows down here, only dim lights along the walls. Our eyes adjusted slowly. We couldn’t really see what at the bottom of the stairwell. I thought I saw something moving, but I didn’t tell anyone, for fear of breaking the silence. So we inched downwards, step by step.

“Stop right where you are!” said a commanding voice from below us. It was a man’s voice, but definitely not the one from the radio—this was too deep.

The security guard who had spoken stepped out from the shadows. Unlike Flores and Robertson, he was in a uniform instead of a suit. The nameplate on his chest said “Hall”. He had very dark skin, no hair on his head, and a fixed look in his eye. He also had a gun aimed straight at us.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” he said, keeping his distance. “You too, Robertson, Flores. Sergeant’s orders.” None of us moved. He stepped closer, narrowing his eyes. “You hear me?” He pointed at each of us in turn with his gun—first the two blank-faced security guards, then Kristine, then finally square at me. None of us moved. “I’m going to count to three,” he said with determination. “One. Two!”

“Put the gun down,” said Kristine.

The guard, his mouth still partly open, stared at Kristine. “Oh...” he breathed. The resolve in his voice melted. “Yes, Miss.” He slowly re-engaged the safety on his gun, and knelt to put it on the ground. He didn’t stand up again, but took a knee, looking up at my friend with an adoring gaze.

“Good boy,” Kristine said, grinning widely. “Now, where’s the sergeant?”

“Miss, he’s in the security room, Miss.”

“Is he alone?”

“Miss, yes Miss, but he’s armed and he’s a crack shot.”

“Never mind that, just take us there.”

“Miss, yes Miss,” Kristine’s newest recruit said. He stood up again. Then he spun on his heel and started walking down the basement hallway. We all followed.

This part of the museum seemed deserted except for us. We passed some boring looking office doors with names on them, but they were all empty or closed. Lockers lined the rest of the hallway, reminding me of high school. Kristine and her obedient minions picked up the pace, making a little more noise as they went.

Eventually, the hallway split in a T intersection. We turned right. Now I could see that this corridor ended in a windowless metal door with a sign that said “Security Room”.

The three guard slaves led the way. Then they stood to the side to let Kristine walk past and examine the door. It had a no handle, only a numbered keypad. She ran her hand over it. “Any of you boys know the code for this?” she asked.

BANG!

Kristine screamed.

BANG!

“Kristine!”

BANG!

“Get down!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground. The three hypnotized guards stood like statues.

“Are you okay?” We checked each other for any signs of blood or gunshot wounds. We didn’t see any.

“Oh my god, Josh, are you okay?” Kristine said, panting and shaking with an expression of terror covering her face.

“I’m fine, are you all right?”

Kristine nodded slowly, still looking over me in a panic. Then something else caught her eye. She gasped, clapped her hands, and laughed triumphantly. “Look!”

She pointed at the door. Three pointed bumps had appeared in the metal, exactly where Kristine’s torso had been a moment ago. But no holes. The sergeant’s efforts had been ruined by his own bulletproof door!

Still panting and laughing, we helped each other back to our feet. But the sergeant, now shouting directly through the damaged door, wasn’t finished with us.

“Just stay away, get the fuck away! Leave me alone!” he shouted in a panic. “You open this door, I’ll blow your fucking head off! You hear me?! Get the fuck away from me!”

Kristine re-asserted herself. She put one hand gently on the metal door. “Put the gun down,” she said, softly.

“And the, uh, the FB... the Secret Service is on its way! They’ll be here in five... three minutes! This is your last chance to run!”

“Yeah, he’s lying,” I said, confidently.

“Put the gun down,” said Kristine.

“No, no, no!” said the sergeant, squeaking a little. “Fuck! Stop that! G-get out of my head!”

“Put the gun down,” said Kristine.

“No... stop... please...” He was barely audible now.

“Put. The gun. Down. Obey.”

No sound.

“There we go,” said Kristine. I noticed she was sweating a little and breathing heavily, like she’d just run a mile. She’d clenched her hands into fists, and her cheeks had flushed red. But her lips curled into a victorious sneer. “Now, unlock the door and let us in.”

The lock buzzed. The door clicked. Then, from the other side of the door, there was a soft thump. I turned to Kristine, worried, but she still looked confident and in control. She carefully pushed the door open.

The security room was full of screens. The walls were lined with them. In the far corner of the room, a few chairs stood next to an old-looking computer that I guessed controlled everything. Every inch of the museum was visible from here, I realized. The only exceptions seemed to be the off-limits areas, like this security level, and maybe the bathrooms. A single overhead light provided dim illumination; the screens themselves were the main, flickering light source.

At first distracted by all the screens, I forced myself to look down at what we’d come here for. Sergeant Klein. A middle-aged white guy with a scruffy beard and graying hair. Currently kneeling in the middle of the room. So that’s what that thump had been—the Sergeant, falling to his knees.

I saw his gun lying on the ground behind him, so I went to pick it up and make sure the safety was on.

“Good boy,” Kristine said. I looked over my shoulder at her curiously to see who she was talking to. Kristine stepped into the room, radiating confidence. She mentally dragging her guards after her as she surveyed the scene. “You, big guy. Take those handcuffs of yours and cuff Mr. Sergeant over here. Hall, watch the door for a minute. Josh, can you check the computer and erase the footage of us?”

I stepped off to the computer and sat in the chair. The sergeant had been examining a video clip. I clicked play. I wasn’t completely surprised to see my own face, but... Yes, there I was, pounding on the display case, but what was with that enraged snarl? I hadn’t been angry, had I? I zoomed in. Were my lips moving? What was I saying? I rubbed my forehead in confusion.

“Josh, can you erase that footage or not?” Kristine said, somewhat impatiently. “I can control their minds, but, you know, the computer...”

I played around with the system a little. “Oh... shit. It looks like he just emailed this to someone at the FBI. And there’s a reply... Agent Gregg: ‘I didn’t understand you on the phone. What is this?’”

“Dammit. Okay, tell him... Tell him... I dunno. It’s a stunt?” Kristine said.

“How about performance art?”

“Performance art! Perfect. Say: ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time, I checked with the museum and this is actually just performance art to commemorate Native American heritage or something. All clear.’ Type that in.”

I took a moment to type out the reply, editing it to sound more natural, then clicked Send. I gave Kristine the thumbs up.

“Awesome.” She grabbed the chair next to mine, spun it around with a flourish, and sat in it. She pointed at the three standing guards. “You three, join your sergeant on your knees.”

They all said “Miss, yes Miss,” in unison, and knelt on either side of their boss. Kristine leaned her chair forward to leer at her kneeling subjects.

“You four... have been a bitch to deal with,” she said to them, breathing rapidly. “You don’t know how... fucking hard it is in a museum, with so many minds... Do you know how hard it is not to lose control? To have so many minds under my power and keep everything from going to pieces?”

“You actually did an amazing job of that, Kristine,” I said. Kristine ignored me, she was on a roll.

“Of course not. You just care about your worthless jobs. Well, I’m tired of it. I can’t... I won’t keep it bottled up any longer. And you’ve just volunteered to be my toys for today. Strip. All of you.”

The men stood and began to pull their clothes off in a frenzy of obedience. Jackets, suit pants, belts, shirts, underwear, all sorts of male clothing flew in all directions. The tall guard, Robertson, had to help the sergeant because the older man was still handcuffed. Kristine rocked excitedly on her chair, watching Robertson tear the sergeant’s shirt open. Before long, the floor of the little room was cluttered with clothes, and all four men stood naked, in a line, for Kristine’s inspection.

Kristine hopped off the chair and began to walk circles around her new slaves. I stood up, watching, feeling a stirring in my jeans.

Every one of the guards worked out. Flores really was built like a football player. Even the sergeant, shortest and oldest of the set, had chiseled abs. Kristine paid particular attention to each man’s erection (all the men had one, because Kristine wanted them to). She gave each penis a couple of strokes, feeling its length and width. Then she went on to the next man, leaving the previous one aching and throbbing.

Finally, she let out another triumphant laugh, and bounced back onto her chair. “Perfect.” She squeezed her thighs together and licked her lips. “Oh man, I need this. All right. Uhh...” She turned from person to person, making up directions as she went along. “Okay, you,” she pointed at Flores, “fuck him,” she pointed at the sergeant. “You,” she pointed at Officer Hall, “fuck him,” she pointed at Robertson. “You,” she pointed at me, “fuck... uh...”

She stopped, pointing at nothing. But I knew who she’d been about to point to. There was no one else left but Kristine, herself.

The other men wasted no time in carrying out their instructions. Flores pushed the sergeant up against the computer console, pounding him hard, while Hall and Robertson curled up on the floor like lovers. Robertson squealed girlishly as Hall entered him.

Kristine and I stared at each other awkwardly.

“I mean,” I said, pausing. “I mean, I could... if you... want?” I gave her an awkward smile. Her face was shifting rapidly between facial expressions.

“Well...” said Kristine. “I... well, I dunno, I shouldn’t...” she said, stammering. We kept getting distracted by the grunts and moans of the guards’ mindless fucking.

“You did a really good job today,” I said honestly.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She gave me a brief smile, but still looked frustrated. “I don’t know, though. I don’t want to force you into anything, Josh. Is this really okay?”

We turned our heads to look at the guards. They sped up for our entertainment, thrusting wildly into each other’s asses and moaning like porn stars.

“I guess I’m supposed to say no,” I said. “But at this point, after everything we’ve done, it wouldn’t be so weird if you and I... wait. Who’s that?”

I pointed at the doorway. Kristine turned to look. “Oh, fuck,” she gasped in surprise. “That’s the curator. I forgot I told her to join us.”

The woman standing in the doorway tilted her head in a look of mild confusion. She had long, braided black hair, and unblemished tan skin. Short, like Kristine, she was dressed in a fashionable dark outfit that I barely got to see any of, because Kristine ordered her to lose it immediately.

“I got the curator no problem,” Kristine explained to me as the curator took her clothes off without protest. “Took about 15 minutes to get her alone, and then, piece of cake. Not exactly a challenge,” Kristine added with a laugh. “But most people are incredibly weak-minded, it turns out. And then it was just a matter of trying to find you.”

The sergeant interrupted Kristine by letting out a loud, high-pitched whine as his dick leaked onto the keyboard. Flores was really savaging him.

“Okay,” said Kristine, catching her breath. She seemed to have reasserted her confidence once again. “Here’s how this is going to go. You,” she pointed at the curator, “come fuck me. And you, Josh,” she pointed at me, “Take your pick. I can’t make you do anything, but the guards are yours to play with if you want them. You haven’t had any men in a while, so it’s only fair.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” I said. A wave of relief mixed with guilt washed over me. Kristine could have called me out for my abject failure at being her Jiminy Cricket, but she didn’t. I tried to shrug it off. I was now very frustrated and very horny, and Kristine had given me these four built men to do with as I pleased. I got out of the way for the curator to kneel before her mistress. I turned away from the girls, and wandered over to Robertson. Walking across the room was really hard, because so was my cock.

The tall man’s eyes were all out of focus, and his tongue was practically hanging out of his mouth from the bliss of being fucked. I took my dick out and slapped his face with it to get his attention. “Hey, you. Ever suck a cock before?”

Blinking, he quickly shook his head no.

“But you’ll love mine, won’t you?”

He nodded his head yes, and took my length in his mouth with a squeal of delight. He bobbed his head on me while the other officer continued to fuck him from the rear. The pleasure hit me in a wave. Robertson wasn’t very good, but I couldn’t care with how horny I was. Watching Hall slide his cock in and out of Robertson’s tight ass definitely enhanced the experience.

I let my eyes roam further, and saw that Kristine’s bottoms had fallen off. The curator was going to town on Kristine’s pussy with fingers and tongue. Through her cunt slurping, the curator moaned something, but it might not have been English.

Kristine glanced at me. We made eye contact for just a moment, quickly broken.

I looked down at Robertson, still sucking me inexpertly. I grabbed his hair. “Suck it harder, slut.”

In answer, he hummed around my cock, the vibration sending shivers up and down my body. And he obeyed, working me with his warm lips and wet tongue. I forced myself in a little more, encouraging him to deep throat me. When his lips touched the base of my cock, I let out an audible shiver.

I glanced back up. Kristine had been watching me, but quickly looked away.

Then, off to my side, Flores let out an inarticulate growl. He blew his load inside the sergeant and slammed him down hard against the computer. A blue error screen appeared.

Kristine laughed. Then she said, “Time to change it up. You, tall guy, Robertson. Come here, before you choke on Josh’s huge dick. Someone needs to take over fucking the sergeant, and it’s gonna be you. Hall, lie down on the ground over there, I want to ride you.”

Robertson popped my cock out of his mouth, obediently going to fuck his boss. I didn’t really mind, but I wasn’t done yet.

Flores bent over a chair and winked at me invitingly. I didn’t need a second invitation.

Kristine made the curator lick Hall’s throbbing cock clean, then mounted him. He moaned as Kristine lowered herself onto him, but she said playfully, “Ah ah ah. Don’t think you’re cumming so easily. No orgasms without Miss Kristine’s permission. Let me know when you think you can’t take any more.”

“Miss, yessss, missssss,” he hissed, writhing on the ground.

Then Kristine beckoned the curator over. The naked woman crawled over to Kristine, then stood up. She took off her mistress’ top. Then she started covering Kristine’s beautiful breasts with soft kisses and light touches.

In the midst of this, Kristine glanced at me. I realized I’d been watching her instead of fucking my willing musclebound slave.

Quickly, I shifted my attention back to him, and pressed myself into his ass. He cooed. “You’re enjoying this way too much... boy,” I said, growling. He was the one who had tried to arrest me, I remembered. So I grabbed him by the hips and started fucking him hard and fast. He giggled happily and started moving with me. “You really like this, huh? Boy? You like letting me use your ass?”

He giggled and nodded. “Oh fuck, this is the best!” he said.

“...the best,” I heard Kristine moan from across the room.

Then Hall started pleading from the ground. “Miss, please, I’m so close, I c-can’t take it, Miss!” he said, babbling. His eyes and face were all screwed up with the inhuman effort he was putting in not to cum. I shuddered and fucked Flores more forcefully, bottoming out inside him as I watched to see what Kristine would do.

She gave him an evil grin. “Okay, sure. Ready?”

Hall whimpered.

Kristine’s grin widened. “I’m going to count to three. One... two.....!” Then she lifted herself up completely, letting his cock twitch in midair. She climbed off him, laughing. “All right, all right, all right. You,” Kristine pointed at the curator, “finish him off with your mouth.” The curator instantly bent over Hall and wrapped her lips around his cock. It took her about five more seconds to get him off.

Kristine kept blinking and grinning stupidly from the pleasure and the power trip. She saw me fucking Flores and took a couple of steps closer. Then she thought better of it, and turned around to approach Robertson and the sergeant. I watched her naked ass as she walked away.

Then I felt Flores’ asshole clench, and I forced my gaze away from her and back to him. “Fuck yeah, that’s it. You’re good at this...boy,” I said, grinning to myself as I slammed into him.

“Ooooh!” he squealed, and started to cum.

Kristine put her hand on Robertson’s side—she couldn’t reach his shoulder—and said, “That’s enough.”

The towering man pulled out of the sergeant with a pop, and turned to salute Kristine. She grinned at him and pointed at her own crotch. He fell down to his knees, and eagerly started to lick.

The sergeant looked around, still handcuffed and leaning over the computer.

“Stay there,” Kristine commanded. “No one’s touching your tiny dick today, Sergeant, not even you. Hump the computer, though.”

He let out a long groan of frustration, but obeyed, flopping his crotch against the keyboard pathetically.

Robertson buried his face inside Kristine, but she still managed to speak between gasps of bliss. “You caught me at a terrible time, sergeant. Here I... ahh... Here I am trying to find a way to control my powers, and I... mmmmm.... I do not need you fucking things up by getting the FBI involved and shooting at me. Oh fuck yeahhh.” She looked down at Robertson, worshiping her pussy. “Holy fuck, you’re good at this. I might have to keep you.“

“But you can’t,” I groaned out, still fucking Flores.

“Fuck you, Josh,” she said. She turned back to the sergeant. “Anyway... ahh.. ahh... I’m not gonna let any of you remember this. Not exactly. Ohhhhhhhh... But I am going to let you remember the fucking. You won’t remember why you and your security team turned into gay sex addicts, but you’ll always remember this... ahhhh... as the first time you realized your true identities as queer little sluts. And you, sergeant, are the team’s favorite bottom and bondage slut! Oh fuuuuuuuuck yeahhh!” Kristine grabbed Robertson’s hair and mashed him into her pussy. She closed her eyes, threw her head back, and came hard onto his face from the cunt worship and power rush.

Then my eyes closed as I reached my own orgasm. I slid all the way into Flores and filled his ass with cum. He giggled excitedly, pressing back against me.

Finally, Kristine and I extricated ourselves from the security guards. She was still naked, I still had my pants down. But for that one moment, we smiled at each other and didn’t feel awkward at all.

Then I said, “This was probably a terrible idea, Kristine.”

She grinned sheepishly. “You’re telling me this now?”

“I told you back in the... never mind.” I sighed, too satisfied and happy to complain. “Anyway, come on. Let’s go.”

“Okay.” She started to gather her clothes. “Hang on. You,” she pointed at the curator, “we still need you. Put your clothes on and follow us.”

I looked at Kristine quizzically.

“We’re going to get that magic headdress,” said Kristine. “I’m not leaving without it. And then, you and me, we’re gonna figure this thing out once and for all. Come on!”