The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Member Privileges

Chapter 2

By William Pratt

The second Oliver saw Marissa, his dick rose. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it. Enjoyed it. This was his wife! She looked slightly dazed and breathless. And hot. So very, very hot. Not Marylu hot, but a demure, good girl hot. Not a suck your cock off for fun hot. A dinner and a movie and slow romance hot. And that drove his dick absolutely wild in a way a woman like Marylu couldn’t match. There was an uncertainty—maybe you’d get laid with Marissa, maybe not—Marylu lacked. You knew you’d get plenty if you went out with Marylu.

Still, Marissa looked different somehow.

“Hey baby… Some weird new rules, huh?”

“Tell me about it!”

Fifteen minutes later, their time was up. And a good thing, too. About a minute earlier, he realized the big difference in his wife: No bra. His mind nearly blew. Oliver’s balls ached. They’d never done that before. Worse, less than a second after the chat window with Marissa closed, his laptop beeped. There were five people in the local chat. And he had a private message from a gold member. Nancy. Oliver clicked Read.

“So the avatar is a little old, huh?” asked Oliver.

“Huh? Oh. The picture! That’s my daughter!” The forty-something giggled like a girl. Her bathrobe—the only thing she wore—dropped to the floor. “Ready to get down and sexy?”

“I’ve never done…”

“I suggest you stop worrying and start stripping.”

He stripped.

“Marylu wasn’t kidding,” Nancy stared at him, awed. He’d never been stared at before. It felt nice. If he hadn’t already been hard as a rock, her gaze would have finished him off for sure. “We better find you somewhere to put that before you start knocking things over.”

“Oh wait! I know exactly the place!” Nancy turned around, bent over, braced her hands against the wall, and spread her legs.

Horny beyond caring, Oliver got down to business.

“That bitch!”

Bob pulled the speaker from his ear, dropped the volume, and plugged back in “Was that necessary, Marylu?”

“A new member. Nancy Travers lied about her age!”


“So? This is not what I wanted to watch at all! She says she’s twenty-nine, looks about fifty and is thirty nine.”

“A horrible combination. I know some very attractive women in their fifties.”

“Well, I’m going to fix her!”

“Ah—ah-ah!” Bob wagged his finger. “Don’t you go playing with her settings. She’s a gold member.”

“Revoked. She violated the ToS by lying about her age on her profile.”

“We still have to follow procedure. Send her the form letter and give her 24 hours to respond,” said Bob. “We will uphold our end of the agreement.”

“Oh we will, all right. To the letter. I think I know how to make her pay now without touching her. Then tomorrow I fuck her over, hardcore.

Oliver’d never had so much fun at work. He barely even noticed the purse hitting the floor behind him.

“Mom! Oh my god!”

Nancy stopped fucking. It took Oliver a few seconds to clue in and stop trusting upward into her. He sat up and twisted around to look. Sure enough, there was the babe whose picture interested him so much online. She was kind of short with a very youthful face, but not smiling this time. And no bikini. This time her perky breasts filled up a white button-up shirt and blue blazer. A knee length skirt hid most of her legs, not bad looking, and her ass, amazing in the bikini shot her mother posted online, was hidden from sight behind her. Regardless, there was no way Nancy had looked like that twenty years earlier. No way in hell.

“Kirsten…” said Nancy.

The brunette hottie turned and stomped away. Her ass looked almost as amazing in a skirt as the bikini. He did what he could to beat the desire down, but Oliver’s cock burned to try it out. “I don’t care, mom. I really don’t care. You and your fucking boyfriends.”

Nancy sighed and shook her head. With a slurp, she lifted up and off of Oliver. “Wait for me. I suggest you don’t get soft.”

Oliver considered a run for the door, but… didn’t. Didn’t get soft, either. He couldn’t hear a word of what Nancy said, following her angry daughter, but Kirsten’s shouting came through loud and clear.


“Oh my god.”

“He’s like half your age, mom!”

“What-ever! Closer to mine than your—.

“No mom, apes have tiny penises.”

“Yah I’m sure. You’re thinking horses.”

“Because I do more with my life than chase everything with two legs and a dick!”

“How big?”

“Oh get real mom. Ten inches? That would never fit!”

“Yah, I guess I would be surprised.”

“Well maybe…If I tried it! Which I’m not!”

“Yah. As if!”


Nancy walked back into the living room rolling her eyes. “Kids. Enjoy them while you can.” She wasted no time joining him on the sofa and mounting up. She got seated and comfortable and stretched tight around his cock and started to slowly ride him.

“Mooom! You left that crap logged on!”

Nancy shook her head and sighed. “Good. Uh! Uh! Maybe she’ll learn something!”

She slid down and Oliver felt her pussy grip his cock. Her tightness was a bit of a shock, given how much she seemed to enjoy using it.

“Ohhhhhh Guhross! Mom! Some perv is using his dick for an avatar!”

“That’s Mark,” said Nancy, fucking faster. “He likes to wah-watch.”

“Alright, Mom. You asked for it! Mr. Dick Avatar’s going to get a chat with an eighteen year old virgin!”

Nancy giggled. “She’s in for some disappointment. That’s not really his dick.”

“Hope you like being a grandmother in your thirties, mom.”

“Won’t happen. I’ll be forty before she could come to term. Besides, Mark wouldn’t know what to do with her even if she did this.” Nancy began bouncing up and down on Oliver, bucking and howling with glee and drowning out anything more Kirsten could say.

Nancy lay on the sofa in the living room unconscious, but still quivering and cooing with delight. Cum dripped from her well-used pussy onto the upholstery. Oliver looked down at his finally sated dick, wondering if he should wipe it off or just get into his clothes and get the hell out before Nancy woke up and he did something else he’d regret. Not that he regretted it yet, but he would. Tomorrow he’d wake up and be sick to his stomach. He knew it.

“Oh! Like, hiiii!”

More undisclosed information. Nancy had two daughters. The first one was cute. The second was cut from the same pattern as Marylu. Oliver’s jaw dropped and he stared. His dick had no chance. It slammed to full erection in about a second and a half, throbbing and yearning to pleasure the teenaged-dream gazing in rampant lust at it.

“Like, omigod! Yer, like, hung like a gorilla!” Neither daughter looked anything like their troll of a mother, but this one certainly had her mind. She put a laptop onto the coffee table, bending over at the waist and wagging her pert bottom. She had an ass that exceeded that of her sister’s, round and tight and pleasing to the eye. Probably pleasing to the cock, too.

His cock agreed, throbbing with anticipation.

“Uhhhh…” He didn’t know what to say to that. He’d always thought his dick to be rather ordinary, so he babbled. “Apes have tiny penises.”

“Ohyah!” She giggle-sang. “Like, I knew that! Yer hung like a… uh… Like a house!” Blonde hair so white it looked closer to silver arched out from her head as she shook it. Breasts barely contained by a tight, white, and dramatically overloaded, shirt bobbed. They tried to bounce, they really did, but they didn’t have enough room for more than a jiggle.

Oliver froze. The white button-up top. The blue skirt. The… Nah.

“Yah,” said the top-heavy blonde slut. She looked a combination of drunk, stupid and horny. Basically nothing like Kirsten.

“I met this guy named Mark. He’s, like, a gold member. I’m silver. I like silver.” She giggled stupidly and twirled a lock of hair around a finger. “Like, I danced for him, in a private chat, and then I went to one the public rooms an’ that was awesome! All these guys jerkin’ off watching me dance, and then this, like, total fox joined us and she was, like so fuckin’ hot an, we flirted, like, hardcore an’ danced to Katy Perry an’ my boobies got all big an’ stuff!”

“Hey, wanna fuck?” She didn’t even waste time for an answer before her hands went to work slipping the bottom button of her shirt lose. Her hands worked their way up toward the straining buttons at her breasts. “One of the guys suggested I’d feel lots better if I got laid, and foxy lady suggested that I do it on cam’ra, so I brought the laptop so’s everybody in chat can watch me get devirginated! I was just gonna steal one’a mum’s vibyraters an’ let’em see that, but, silly girl, I fergot mum had a guy over!

“Mum’s sucha slut, y’know. Makes me rilly, rilly mad.” Her tits exploded outward, freed of her top. Gravity caught them and pulled down, then they rebounded, bouncing back up and jiggled their way to stability as two huge tear-drops sloping out of her chest. “I mean rilly. Yer closer ta my age than hers.

“Gosh.” She cupped her boobs. “These rilly are big.”

Oliver nodded. So did his dick. The rapidity of its bobbing increased with his heart rate as the sex-crazed slut’s fingers kneaded her weighty rack.

The silver-haired girl’s already-vacant eyes glazed over. Her mouth opened slowly and her lips stretched into a panting smile. Her nipples swelled and lengthened. “Omigawd! I rilly like this,” she moaned. “I rilly, rilly like this!” She stood with her hands under her huge breasts, trying to hold them out as an offering. They overflowed her dainty fingers, so Oliver helped her out.

“Oh fuck yah!” she barked as her nipples poked into the palms of his hands. Muffled moans slid into his mouth along with her tongue. She pressed against him, rubbing and grinding his cock into her skirt, leaving a trail of his and her mother’s half-dried sex-juices and fresh precum.

She fell back in his arms, legs weak with desire and face empty of all non-sex-related intellect. That was too much for Oliver. Something was seriously wrong here. He backed up.

“I suggest you two get it on before we get bored,” said a voice behind him. He knew that voice

So while Oliver pushed Kirsten up against the wall, he looked back over his shoulder. The chat was still open. Of course it was open. She wanted her friends to watch. Friends that included Marylu.

“That slut’s pussy is gushing for you, Oliver. You’ll have no trouble giving her what she wants.

“I suggest…” said Marylu as Oliver turned toward his attention to the girl pinned between him and a wall, using the wall as support as she rhythmically thrust her groin into him. “No I guess I don’t need to. You’re perfectly capable of handling things from here.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck….” The bimbo squirmed against him, kissing his neck and running her hands all over his back.

Impatient to get started, Oliver held her against the wall, ran his free hand up her leg to her panties, grasped the front, and tugged. The drenched material slipped away. He wrapped his fingers around the lubricant-slicked lace and pulled harder. Nothing. Then he tugged hard and tore them from her body.

The girl gasped in shock and then giggled.

In no time at all, he had long, perfect legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers gripping a juicy, muscular ass, and an almost-silver-haired blonde writhing against him, her arms around his neck, her tongue in his mouth, and her lower lips gliding back and forth across the tip of his cock and melting his brain. She arched and yelped as he entered her, and howled, “Oh my god!” Then she began rocking herself down and twisting, trying to screw him in deeper.

Marissa had had a completely different response, kind of a grunt of pain and they had to stop for a while the first time.

Then again, Nancy’s daughter was so turned on that you could probably cut her head off and she’d keep going.

“Fuhhhhk! Like, omigawd this is soooo goooood!” Her thighs and ass tensed and relaxed as she fucked him harder than he could fuck her, but once he pressed her back against the wall again he managed to pick up the speed he wanted. And apparently the depth she was after. Her moans incoherent, she bucked and drooled, and then she jolted and screamed. And jolted again. And again. And again. Her body became a rhythmic wave and her pussy clenched and relaxed and clenched again, over and over. Her cries of “Oh yes!” decayed into a warbling plea for “moreharderfasterfuckyesfuckyesfuhhhhk!” Liquid trickled, then poured down from their joining.

Somewhere in there he closed his eyes and must have cum, because when he opened them again, he was the one pressed against the wall and red lips worked at his cock, sucking it back erect.

“You go, girl!” cheered Marylu. “Bend your neck and you can take it in deep! Isn’t that awesome? Don’t I make great suggestions?”

The silver-blonde nymphomaniac nodded. His cock found and slid into her throat. Her tongue snaked out and reached his balls. She coughed. His balls tightened, burned, got ready to pump the teen full.

“Breath through your nose!” instructed Marylu.

“Jesus, Marylu, just shut up and let the girl work,” one of the chatters grunted.

Marylu’s head turned as though looking at a different camera. She frowned. Then she turned back and smiled sweetly. “Oliver, I suggest you don’t cum yet. Wait until she swallows all of you. You’ll cum together.”

“Oh come on, Marylu,” said the grunter. “No one cums from giving a BJ, ya bimbo.”

“I suggest you watch your tone,” said one of the other guys watching.

“Thank you, Mark,” Marylu said. “You just earned a VIP ticket.

“You on the other hand …” Marylu paused. Her pitch took on a darker aspect. “Devon. I suggest you try it. You’ll love sucking cock. You won’t be able to get through a day without sucking at least one.”

“Ya, as if. Stupid bit—Ccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” His section of the screen exploded into hissing static then went black. The remaining chatters shuffled and expanded to fill space.

“Oh dear,” said Marylu. She smiled evilly. “Looks like his client crashed. Shame.”

The girl with the magic mouth adjusted herself and Oliver felt himself sinking in deep. She moaned. He groaned. She trembled. He thrust. Her eyes went wide. His cock swelled. She swallowed greedily as he came, her throat pulsing and her body an undulating wave of orgasmic release.

“And you should have seen this guy in chat a couple nights back. He had this platinum blonde and he used her. Every fuckin’ inch of her. Mouth, pussy, tits….”

Marissa shook her head. Some people learned more slowly than others, she knew that from teaching, but some people never seemed to learn at all. Rafe fell into the latter category. She wondered if it had anything to do with the time he’d spent in the navy.

“Ass?” asked another. Dwayne wasn’t much better.

“Oh fuck no,” said Rafe. “That ass was way to fine to waste on another guy’s cock. Hell, he would have torn the bitch open, anyway. This guy hadda be nine-ten inches long.”

“Bitch?” asked Marissa, raising an eyebrow. “Remember what I said about what that word did to your odds?”

“Srry, ’Rissa.”

“Don’t apologize to me. It’s your sex life you’re killing.”

“Man, if I had a dick like that guy, I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Girls would line up!”

“Oh I doubt that. A slow, gentle loving from a caring man…” She trailed off as a new member, a platinum member, joined the room. Her heart rate jumped. “Hello Bob.”

“Good evening, Marissa. How are things?”


“I can fix that,” said Rafe.

Marissa smiled at him. “Thank you, Rafe.”


“No longer quite so skittish, Marissa?”

Marissa shrugged. “I don’t see the point. Some of the things I heard in the last week… Chelsea… I didn’t think women got that sexed up.

“So are you here on business? Checking up on me?”

“I try to avoid mixing business and pleasure; although I have no doubt your business would be an immense pleasure.”

“And that was the tamest pick-up line I’ve gotten here.”

“But no longer quite as wild and woolly as when you first arrived.”

“No. Things are a little more relaxed. Me and the boys. The regulars anyway. The others… Not much of a change.”

“And change is good, don’t you agree, Marissa?”

“Some change is.”

“Rafe, I suggest you be honest. If you could change anything, anything at all, what would you change about the lovely Marissa?”

“Honestly? Not that much. She’s smart, hot…”

“Thank you again, Rafe. I didn’t know you could be such a gentleman.”

“But I got a thing for dancers. They got legs and asses to die for. You shoulda seen this blonde the other night. Yow! And tits out to here.” He held his hands well in front of his chest, suggestively cupping much that which wasn’t there.

Bob’s eyebrows rose. “A dance-o-phile. I did not know that about you, Rafe. You should have added it to your profile.”

“Didn’t see the point.”

In a real life meeting, Bob would have been patting Rafe on the back, Marissa was certain of that. Oliver had a boss like that. “There’s a lot Rafe doesn’t like to talk about,” she said.

“This is a dating site, my good man. The more information you provide, the better we can match you.” Bob typed away at a keyboard off the bottom of his camera. “I just linked you to a profile you should find interesting. She lives about thirty miles outside your circle, but she….”

Rafe’s eyes bugged out. “Good lord!”

“Thank me,” said Bob, glowering a little. “Not him.”

“Who is she?” asked Marissa. A moment later, a link flashed on her info bar. She clicked it. The profile photo for “Donni” was tall, slender and stacked. “Italian-Romanian, classically trained dancer… Works as a….”

While Marissa stared, Rafe finished off for her. “Stripper.”

“A waste of such a talent for musicality,” said Bob. “But you have to go where the money is.”

Meanwhile across town Donatella Ojacarcu shivered as though struck by a cold wind and pulled her jacket tight around the slender body genetics and a physically active life had given her. She shook her head, puzzled and a little dizzy, and brushed her shoulder-length brown hair out of her eyes. She changed course from walking to the dance lessons she gave at the Y to her gig at the Kitty-Kat Klub tonight. Her old new job. Just her job on the club circuit, coupled with a bit of adult modeling and escorting.

She felt so confused, as though her life had just been rewritten out from underneath her. As she walked, her skirt crawled up her legs, and shrinking and reforming from ankle-length cotton to denim that barely touched the top of her thighs. Her jacket spread apart again and the blouse beneath it tightened, hugging her taut body. The blouse pulled up her midriff as her breasts swelled, fighting to contain her expanding rack while at the same time shrinking. It ultimately settled into a tiny white button up parody of the traditional office blouse barely sufficient to cover the upper half of the thrusting, round orbs now jutting from her chest.

Midnight black hair swish-swished brushing against the top of her ass, obscuring the hint of cheek exposed above the belt of her jean skirt. Below the skirt, that was completely on display. Just the way she liked it.

“And pairing Donatella with Raphael… I live for these sorts of games. Now I just have to find a Mikaela and Leona.”

Rafe gaped, staring at Donatella and missing the joke. “What the hell is a woman like this doing on a dating site?”

“Well, if she’s stripper probably all the men she meets are losers.”

“Judgmental, Marissa,” said Bob. “Perhaps she has not had the opportunities you’ve had. Perhaps she enjoys stripping and the effects it has upon men. I suggest you do some research. Take a pole dancing class.

“As for why she’s here, Rafe, if you saw her on the street, what would you do?”

“Uh…” Rafe, gazing in rampant lust at the image of Danni on his screen, snapped his eyesight to the webcam.

“Precisely. Stare, then look away. Ask for her number?” Bob shook his head. “ No. Rafe, she likely has as much trouble actually meeting men as you do women.”

If Donatella had any idea what had just happened, she probably would have regretted signing up with GreyDate, but she didn’t. She just went with it and smiled, resolving to check in as soon as she could.

They had a smartphone, app, right? Maybe she could stream her set so more guys could watch. God, she loved it when men lost it and stared at her fuck-toy body, dreaming of all the things they could do with it. What she’d let them do, given half a chance. And at home they could watch and cum all over their screen. Not as good as all over her, of course. Donni always got so hot that she needed a serious quenching after a good set.

Such a shame that men seemed to think that all she wanted was their eyes on her body and their money in her g-string when she really wanted what they did: To fuck.

Forget a slow, gentle loving from a caring man, she wanted a cock in her pussy—or when she found the right man, her virgin ass—banging away until she couldn’t keep herself from screaming with joy as she came again and again. She wanted him in her mouth, grunting and moaning, or pumping his cock between her tits and spraying his cum all over her.

She giggled. ‘I’m hornier than they are,’ ran through her sexual fantasy-crowded mind. Dreams of fucking, being fucked, and dancing to incite yet more fucking overran her mind, leaving little more intellectual function than was required to cross a street without getting killed.

Hungry to see what kind of new, strange men she would attract to service her insatiable need for cock, she pulled out her phone and stared at it, concentrating hard to fight back the urge to surf for porn and finger-fuck herself on the street while she downloaded the GreyApp.

Marissa caught herself staring at the raven-haired woman dancing on the stage. She had no shame. None at all. No need to have any either. Not with that body. If not for the camera watching him, Rafe probably would have been whacking off, and Marissa wouldn’t have been able to blame him. Donni had her wanting to touch herself.

“I have got to learn to do that.”

“Do what?” asked Rafe.

“All of that. She probably has the whole place eating out of her hand. She’s incredible!”

“Hey Donni,” Rafe said a few minutes later after the stunning stripper joined them in the chatroom. “Marissa wants to learn to dance like that.”

“Hey!” said Marissa.

“I teach at the Y some nights. Different kinda dancing, but I don’t see why not. Maybe we can put a class together. Pole dancing’s become kinda hip.”


“Oh sure. I have student loans to pay off.”

“Student loans…?”

“All the training I’ve had doesn’t come cheap, and the pay as a dancing instructor is… not so good.” Donni’s eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a grim smile as she thought about what she’d said. ”Which is funny, when you think about it.

“Plus I like men,” she added with a shrug and a suggestive glance at Rafe that probably had the poor guy ejaculating in his pants.