The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I loitered outside the sex shop, waiting for it to open. I maybe hadn’t needed to come here—I had a small vibrating dildo left over from my time with my last girlfriend I could have used—but something told me that I should find a tool fit for the task. Something the right size, shape... flexibility... my thoughts trailed off, thinking of his cock, its scent, the taste of his cum. Why’d he have to go off to wherever he’d gone?

Still hovering on the doorstep while the proprietor began unlocking the shutters, I tried to talk myself both into going in and into leaving. Finally, the ringing of the bell on the shop door as it opened jolted me from my reverie and reminded me of my resolve.

If you really want, I guess? Giving head never seemed like your thing. Do you think you’re any good?

What an infuriating response to a perfectly nice text—offering a blowjob, no less! Damn it, it was up to me what was ‘my thing’, not him. I’d show him not to prejudge a grown woman.

I had admit, though—I knew I was no good. The last time I’d tried sucking cock—back in the federal service, with a cute guy I had been seeing—I had almost immediately thrown up, my gag reflex going into overdrive the second that his head hit my tongue. If I was going to get vindication, I would have to practice. And for that, I needed something to practice on.

I took a deep breath and entered the shop.

When I got home, I shut the blinds before taking my purchase from its wrapping to stare at it for a long moment. I suddenly knew why I had put this off until I could steal time between shifts to visit the seedy shop downtown—I was procrastinating. The electric blue, rubbery silicone shaft in front of me was scary. The whole enterprise was scary. I should have gotten something on mail-order, perhaps, and put this off another couple of days...

I steeled myself against such thoughts. This would not all come at once, but like anything else in my life—like my nursing certification, like neighborhood organizing—the only thing to be done was to start.

I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and leaned forward.

Three days in, and I had learned several valuable lessons.

First, sucking my new artificial cock went much easier when I spent time ensuring it was covered in saliva. I figured this would be true with an actual dick, too, even if the texture of the silicone member did feel a bit distinct from real human flesh. So, before I sat down to practice each morning and evening, I would spend several minutes tenderly licking each side, trying to ignore the rubbery taste by thinking of His cock.

Second—my overactive gag reflex was not going away without a fight, but I was learning to outsmart it. Originally, I had dry heaves the second there was something a little ways past my lips. Lord knows where that instinct had come from—I had looked online, and most folks didn’t seem to have this problem—but I was determined to overcome it.

It seemed that moving my mouth up and down, quickly, keeping my lips tight, worked reasonably well. After a couple days of practice, I could get the dildo perhaps halfway into my mouth without any problem. I still would gag if I went too deep, but I took pride in my ability to get far enough down that I could use more than just my lips. Running my tongue over the artificial veins on the underside of the shaft tasted like plastic—and victory.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, sucking cock—or perhaps training to suck cock—was the strongest turn-on I’d felt in years. At first, I had told myself I was just doing it to prove a point—to show my infuriatingly attractive neighbor just who set the agenda in our arrangement—but now I had to admit I looked forward to each session and the quivering mess it reduced me to.

My first day, I had foolishly ignored the damp spot in my panties that formed as I took my first, tentative steps. The second day, I had given in, fingering myself feverishly only to find myself shocked when, having gotten as far down on the dildo as I could, I came unexpectedly, causing me to fall hard off the edge of the bed where I had been perched.

Today I was taking no such risks—nor was I wasting hands on my cunt that I could better use to feed the silicone shaft into my face. Rather, I had dug out the old vibrator from my time with Calli and lodged its hard, buzzing shell firmly against my clit.

Kneeling before the mirror in my bedroom, I licked and sucked my way through two orgasms, my thighs trembling but my lips undeterred. The whole time, my neighbor’s text ran through my mind on a loop—“Do you think you’re any good?”

Ohh, I’d show him. I’d show him good.