The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The safe’s contents didn’t appear to be tremendously out of the ordinary. Emergency supplies of cash (both in gold and American currency), ledgers and banking information, a ring of keys which Dominic did not immediately recognize, and a small, locked strongbox were all it contained. Greed naturally began to tickle at Dominic’s conscience, but he had always prided himself on being a moral individual and the “take the money and run” thoughts quickly left him.

It was the strongbox that intrigued Dominic the most. Pulling it out along with the key ring, he laid it upon the writing desk to examine its contents. As he suspected, one of the keys on the ring opened the delicate lock and an odd, musty odor greeted him, as the lid was drawn open. Here was the true treasure of the Greene estate.

There were two extremely old leather-bound manuscripts without titles. Old enough, in fact, that Dominic thought better of opening them before he could take appropriate precautions. He estimated their origins somewhere in the late 1800’s, but couldn’t tell for certain until he could completely examine them. These were accompanied by a letter written on modern, high-quality parchment (a quick glance in the desk confirmed its origins), sealed with wax and stamped with a coat of arms. Most curious, however, was a small hand-carved wooden box that Dominic took for an oversized snuffbox. The carving was incredibly intricate, and brutally erotic, yet done in a fashion akin to 16th century woodcuts. Pictures of lurid, sexual congress abounded on its surface. Despite his misgivings about the contents, it was immediately the most intriguing piece he had found among Mr. Greene’s possessions.

Drawing the container out slowly, he cracked the lid enough to peer inside, and was met with a most unexpected glint of gold. Contained inside was the signet ring of what appeared to be one of Arthur Greene’s ancestors. The signet contained the same coat of arms as the letter, modified over time through the passage of future generations. The ring itself was somewhat ridiculously oversized, however, though it appeared it would fit comfortably around a large-framed individual’s fingers. The signet was carved from a single immense bluish stone, the type of which Dominic could not recognize. Rubies and emeralds ringed the signet, sending the piece’s value well into the millions from gold and jewel content alone. The ring appeared to have some form of secret compartment as well, with a complicated set of mechanical catches in the top for opening. The box had been specially designed with velvet lining and carved shape to uniquely secure this individual piece inside. This truly had to be the oldest piece in Greene’s collection, and represented the most important ancestral legacy Dominic had encountered thus far.

Gently rocking it free from its tight confines, Dominic placed the piece in his hand and set to work attempting to open the release-catch for the secret compartment. Ignoring the remaining contents of the strong-box for now, he came to the conclusion that the plates on the ring’s underside were designed to only allow it to be opened when it was worn. Succumbing to curiosity, he slipped the ring over his thumb (the only appendage large enough to hold it securely), and used his other hand to depress the studs at the top, and rotate the top face of the ring.

The next few moments would later be difficult for him to recall, but Dominic had heard a gratifying “click” when the catch finally worked through. A worrisome grinding came from the ring as the face rotated back into place, and it felt as if something mechanical had moved inside when the catch had been pressed. An instant later, he felt a sharp sting, as if a needle had been thrust into his thumb, and an excruciating pain began to emanate from his outstretched hand. As he desperately attempted to pull the ring free, darkness washed over him, and he quickly lost consciousness. His last thought were that he had sprung an age-old trap designed to avenge the theft of such a priceless object.

His last conscious thought had been that his greed had led him to his demise, and that he probably deserved the death he had brought upon himself.

It was several hours before Dominic awoke from his dreamless sleep. A monstrous pounding resonated from within his skull, and a ringing was distantly evident in his ears. As consciousness returned to him, he connected the ringing within his skull to a ringing outside the room.

“Phone...” he thought dimly. “Phone ringing. Time? What time? What happened?” His thoughts were still too murky to give him much of an answer, and it took a few moments before he was again conscious of the pain in his thumb. He began to work at the ring with foggy vision and somehow managed to reset the “trap” enough to draw it free from his throbbing fingers. Two tiny pinpricks that were terribly sore were evident upon the surface of his skin. He dropped the ring onto the desk and stumbled into the study to pick up the phone.

“Hello? Oh, yeah, honey. Geez, what time is it? 2 A.M., wow...I didn’t even realize. Uh, no, no, I didn’t hear the phone, sorry. I was down in the, uh...” He had to think quickly here, not feeling this was the best time to reveal what he had found. “I was down in the wine cellar. No, I accidentally left the cell phone up here.” He pulled his phone from his belt and noted the three missed calls present on its readout. “No, hon, I guess I just let time get away from me. You know how it is. Yeah, I should be home shortly, I just have to close up here. How did things go at the party? Good? Mmm-hmm...ok, well, I should be home in about a half-hour. Ok, hon...Love You. Bye.”

He placed the handset on the receiver and immediately had to sit down to steady himself. The pounding in his head had subsided slightly, but was an ever-nagging reminder of his own stupidity. He had been unconscious for nearly six hours. Whatever poison the trap had delivered, he felt lucky that it hadn’t been more potent. If it had, he might not have awakened at all.

He didn’t have time to set everything back into place properly, but he did his best to close the entrance to the secret room, so that prying eyes might not discover it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something immensely wrong with all this. His sense of morality was bothered by keeping the find secret. He rationalized, however, that since no heir had yet been found (or had come forward), that there was no harm in keeping this quiet at present...at least until it could be better researched. He was, after all, tasked with a full cataloging of Arthur Greene’s estate, and he had earned enough of a reputation to afford him the latitude to do that in his own fashion.

The drive home had been desperately difficult, the soreness in his thumb compounded by the pounding in his head. Luckily, Los Angeles traffic at 2 A.M. could be considered almost manageable, and he was able to make it home.

Brenda had already gone to sleep by the time he got there, so Dominic had no need to explain his tardiness. He stripped down and showered quickly, collapsing onto the bed and falling into a deep, deep slumber. Brenda seemed not to even notice his arrival, her own slumber far too secure.

This sleep, however was dramatically more fitful than the blackness the poison had granted him. Strange combinations of emotions began to creep over him. He at once felt both afraid and aroused. There was a familiar air of helplessness mingled with a newfound sense of inner-strength. Thoughts turned inexorably to Brenda and shifted his emotional color to one of servitude and captivity. This just as quickly evolved into an odd sensation of power and control. The sensation fueled the underlying eroticism of the dream, sending his breathing and pulse rate climbing.

Soon images began to take form in his slumber. He was acutely aware of his genitals, in a vivid and lucid fashion he had never before experienced. The phallus between his legs felt enormous, and the focus of his attentions. The scene shifted to a bedroom he did not recognize. Brenda was there, naked, smelling strongly of feminine arousal. She lay upon the bed, masturbating in a sensual frenzy, lost uncontrollably in her eroticism. The sight triggered an arousal in Dominic that was different from anything he had felt in the past. Stronger, more intense—yet fueled less by physical desire than by intellectual curiosity. His oversized phallus responded, but not from feeling, more from abeyance.

Another shift in the dream’s landscape brought the reality of it that much closer. Brenda was still on the bed, but she was no longer alone. She was copulating forcefully with someone, riding him hard with a passion she had never before demonstrated. She had worked herself into a berserk lust with this person, whomever he was. Dominic crept closer to see...was the face framed by the silken pillows his? Somehow he instinctively knew that it wasn’t. He was dreaming of his wife fucking another man. He had a vague notion that this was Paul, a co-worker of Brenda’s who he had been introduced to a few times at work gatherings. She rode him with an untiring lust, moaning in an ecstasy that only served to fuel a jealous rage within him. As his ire grew, he became aware of another sensation, however. The vicarious thrill of the voyeuristic action had given him an erection of enormous stiffness and proportion. He could feel an almost primal lust building within himself, watching these two as a casual observer, that was altogether new to him.

As Dream-Brenda reached her point of release, his tortured mind began to hear words from her. “Fuck me, Paul...FUCK ME! Make me cum, Paul!” The words bit hard into the duality of erotic sensation and jealousy that Dominic was feeling. “You make me cum better than ANYONE, Paul! Anyone!”

Dominic heard the man speak for the first time. “Say it, Brenda...SAY IT!”

“Your cock, Paul...” she managed to pant out between moans. “It’s so much bigger than my husband’s. You know that, baby, SO much better. You make me cum like he never could, lover. I...I...I need you, baby, I need you to make me CUM!!!”

The final word was extended and accompanied by her orgasm, a shattering sensation that Dominic could feel throughout his being. The sweetness of watching her release mingled with the bitter taste of his jealousy brought a disturbing mix of emotions inside him. Her release had sent her partner over the edge as well, and the screams she issued in her orgasm seemed to carry on forever. Dream-Brenda moaned quietly and slipped off her partner, barely able to whisper his name as she collapsed. “Oh, Paul...oh, Paul...”

Dominic awoke with a start, bolting straight upward in bed. He was bathed in sweat and noticeably shaken from the nightmare he had just experienced. He started to get up to get a glass of water when he was stopped cold by a whisper from the bed next to him.

“Oh, Paul...yes, Paul.”

His wife had never before been prone to talk in her sleep, but she had obviously been dreaming herself. He glanced at the clock...4 A.M., still a few hours before she would get up to go to work. She writhed around on the bed, slick from her own perspiration, her nightgown clinging to the curves of her body in a most enticing way. Her breathing was peculiar, almost as if she were coming down from orgasm herself. Dominic was now acutely aware of his own erection subsiding as he watched her turn over. Her words resounded in his head.

“Oh, Paul” she had said. “PAUL.”

He had never before suspected his wife of cheating on him. As far as he could tell, their marriage was secure. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light of the room, it certainly appeared to him, on an almost instinctual level, that she her dream had been distinctly erotic in nature. He was somehow able to discern the scent of her arousal hanging strong in the air. The thudding of his headache and the primal odors around him overwhelmed him. He got up from the bed, all the while frightened by the intensity of the evening.

“Had she been seeing another man?” he thought to himself. “What if she has? I don’t think I can handle that...but what proof do I have? Maybe she’s just fantasizing about someone else. That must be it. It’s a disappointment, but can’t I condemn her for it...I’ve done it a few times myself.”

He decided to chalk the oddities of the night up to his exposure to Arthur Greene’s bizarre environs. “That must be it, she’s just fantasizing. That’s all.”

As he drained the remnants of his water glass, he felt the pain in his head and hand subside slightly and a sense of peace began to take over. His heartbeat was slowing again, and he heard Brenda’s voice from the bedroom call out to him.

“Honey? What’s wrong, are you getting up?”

That timbre in her voice still disturbed him. “Nothing, hon, just getting a drink of water. Had a little nightmare, that’s all.”

She let out a long, sultry moan. “Oh, Dom...I’m sorry. Anything I can do? Why don’t you come back to bed, Sweetie, it’s almost morning.”

As Dominic got back under the covers, she rolled over to kiss him, laying her arm across his chest. “Mmmmm, honey, you smell good for some reason. I just had the most vivid dream...very racy.” He could feel her wicked smile from across the bed.

“About me?” he said, more as a joke than anything.

“Of course, Sweetie! Who else would it have been about?”

He wasn’t’ sure how, but he could sense the deception in her voice. She was lying to him, and he knew it. She knew it. For a moment, it was all clear in his mind. Her fingers traced down the front of his stomach to his groin, sneaking under his shorts to play with his manhood. The erection of earlier was gone, however, and it was quickly clear that her ministrations were not going to bring it back.

“You ok, Honey? You want me to help you forget about that nasty little nightmare?”

Dominic’s reactions were mixed, but the exhaustion of the night’s activities had not been lost on him. He glanced down, finding it oddly disturbing that his “equipment” was not rising to the occasion at hand, but chalked it up to the intensity of the dream. The jealousy leapt up again from the depths of his psyche, and he replied.

“No, Hon, but thanks for the offer. I guess I’m just a little too tired right now. Get some sleep.” He kissed her softly on the lips, and could tell that she was truly too tired herself.

“Ok, dear...I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dominic found sleep difficult.