The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Caitlin avoided all carbs during the trip. From dumping the kid on Nathan’s mom, through an hour delay on the tarmac, wheels-up, across the United States, and down into Seattle, she avoided all grains of all kinds. She ate one protein bar that she had baked herself and the fruit out of the in-flight dining options.

Caitlin being Caitlin, she had also jacked Nathan off underneath an Alaska Airlines blanket, then licked her hand clean. That had put her in a trance out in public that Nathan had to quickly snap her free from. So that was—and Caitlin had looked cum up, at the start of her weight loss regimen—about 14 calories of jizz. Other than that it was pure denial.

“We’re on semi-vacation,” Nathan told her, once they made the hotel. “You can cheat for three days.”

“You don’t get fat girls,” Caitlin told him. She had a new edge, which Nathan had only slowly realized was just hunger. “If we even touch anything fat, it all springs back. Its like touching a socket.” She grabbed her own stomach. “Boing-ng-ng.”

“Lets go to the store and get you a single grape,” Nathan said. The hotel desk clerk, one of five, motioned for uniformed bellhops to take suitcases. This was not his usual airport-adjacent business hotel. Although it, and his redhead, weren’t far away. “One grape and I will wave a picture of a cantaloupe at you. You want to go upstairs first?”

He’d ordered it. Not the same night that Seattle had swallowed his business. Several months later, while he was managing a transition that would end, perfectly neatly, with him transitioning himself out of a job. He’d given the command: lose weight. She’d woken up the next day, made an enormous batch of almond scones, and then thrown them all, disgusted, into the trash.

Caitlin considered what to do next. Hunger warred with her most fundamental urge, which was to suck Nathan’s dick. With all his other outlets gone, Nathan had gone back to his first fuck, the only person ultimately always there for him: his wife. His cock was her appetite suppressant, soother, source of pleasure, toy, and probably other things he couldn’t recall. “I thought we’d take a break from the whole, I suck your dick three times a day routine,” Caitlin said, toying with her hair. “For vacation. No blowjobs.”

“Really?” Nathan said, genuinely surprised.

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I’m gonna suck your dick. God. You can’t even let me joke about it. Lets get in the room. I need to feel some carpet on my knees or I’m gonna die.”

Officially they were in Seattle to evaluate moving there. Nathan had put them in the penthouse in part to survey the ground, examine the rolling vistas of Seattle. The company had made clear they’d be happy to have him. They liked him. They felt bad about destroying his job and turning his past company into a midwestern adjunct, getting milked for remaining technical expertise.

“I can’t see for shit,” Nathan said, in front of the window. “It’s all grey and hills.”

“Grey reminds me of home,” Caitlin offered. She divested her travel hoodie and smoothed her t-shirt down in front of the hotel room mirror. She stood perfectly straight and teased her hair out, checking out her figure.

“How does it feel to lose twenty pounds?” Nathan said, sitting on the bed.

“Eh,” Caitlin said.

“You look good,” Nathan said. Caitlin did a critical butt inspection on herself.

“That’s not why I lost it. I lost it for…” she trailed off. Nathan had seen this before—the gap between the indelible command inked in her mind and conscious thought. He waited patiently. She always came up with something. “Health. Pretty much had to. Lots of doctor lectures.”

“Not for me?” Caitlin gave off the mirror and approached her husband. She positioned him gently, putting his knees a little further apart, then finding his fly. “I figured you liked fucking fat girls,” Caitlin said. “Imagine my surprise when I got to your office and found a bunch of slims.” She liked to joke about his hot former employees.

“You should start to worry when I hire a girl with nice soft Caitlin tits,” Nathan said. She pulled his cock out and stroked it. “Do you really… not feel any better? Now that you’re lighter?”

“I’ve been fat my whole life, Nathan. I mean, I cared. I used to care a lot about a lot of stuff. That was a huge mark in your favor, way back when. You didn’t care either. You just wanted me to suck your dick.” His prong hung there, the topic of conversation.

“What do you care about now?” Nathan said. He’d been planning on having this conversation, perhaps over dinner, instead of with his cock already at full-mast. But here it was. Caitlin shrugged. She had her eyes on his penis and blew a hot stream of air over it.

“I figured we’d probably have another kid,” Caitlin said. “We’re at that part of our lives, I guess. It was fun making the last one.”

“But what do YOU want?” Nathan said, insistent now. She pooched her lips out and put them around his cockhead, finally meeting his gaze. She shrugged again, and then softly shuffled her lips down, until they were lost in his pubic hair. It was an amazing display of fellatio. His dick actually bent a bit, resting against the curve of her throat.

“It’s just another Starbucks,” Caitlin said. “Its JUST another STARBUCKS.”

“I mean, if they changed this one, wouldn’t they have to change all of them?” Nathan hazarded. They’d waited in a half-hour long line, and Nathan had gotten one small coffee. Caitlin had eyed the approaching baked goods as the minutes passed. And at the crescendo, found the same mealy croissants and too-lemony lemon cakes as everywhere.

He’d cancelled her diet that past night. But the truth was, he did like her skinnier. Absent twenty pounds she plumped around with a curvy rear all throughout downtown, strapped into jean shorts. Despite it being barely sixty degrees, often drizzling. Caitlin claimed that midwestern winters had finally thickened her blood. “Hell, they thickened the rest of me.”

They wandered northwards, to what seemed like a yard for lost art, filled with painted steel. The waterfront lapped to the left. Nathan watched his wife amble around, head craned.

He’d considered a therapist, after the company had been taken away from him. He’d even looked up male psychologists in the area. Had gotten so far as thought through how he’d drug the man—patiently, waiting for him to leave a coffee mug unattended—so he could swear him to involuntary secrecy. The stupidity of it had eventually bled through. Drugging his own shrink, sure.

His former subjects had been successfully deprogrammed, so he’d done at least that much correctly. Colin and Carrie had shown up to the two-week-notice meeting engaged, both of them tan and fit and twenty-three and ready to ravage the world. Alise was in Idaho and, based on instagram posts, doing fine. Louise had promised to call if her stutter re-emerged. There had been no embarrassing Carli incidents, with lingering attraction. They’d gone out of his life and were doing totally fine without him and seemed to be having tons of perfectly good sex.

It was possible everyone would be fine without him.

“You like all this stuff?” he asked Caitlin, when she rejoined him.

“Yeah! There’s some very impressive cantilevering going on,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “I know all about this stuff! I was an engineer!”

“I heard you were thinking of momming it up again,” he put his hands underneath her sweater and rubbed her belly. Another kid. Move to Seattle, cum his way up the ranks yet again, have yet another child, Caitlin ensconced in yet another well-appointed home, again.

“Isn’t that what YOU want?” Caitlin said. She took a step back, so his hands slipped back into the Seattle chill. They had the park basically to themselves. Anyone who wanted to see modern art sculptures didn’t have to even enter the area, could see from afar.

He hesitated. Looking out along the water was turning out to be a great way to hesitate. Back at home—in Iowa—long, sustained glances over the vistas didn’t garner respect. Here there was the ocean to look out on, or at least a small tendril of ocean. A sound or bay or something.

Nathan had not spared himself the weight loss lash. It had turned out to be easy, with Caitlin abruptly turning off the baked goods spigot. No more fancy french toasts. And he hadn’t had much of an appetite. But with his own fifteen pounds gone extra lines appeared, extra rivulets around his eyes. He was twenty-nine, and possessed of singular powers, and was unemployed with a spouse and one son. And yet, to embark once again on another journey of doctoring drinks, up some lengthy ladder, prone to getting kicked out from underneath him...

“Is someone drowning out there?” Caitlin said, eventually.

“I’m thinking big thoughts,” her husband said.

“About what, water? Lets go to dinner,” Caitlin pointed over to the overturned top dominating the skyline. “In THERE.”

They walked a long way, and ended up taking an Uber, and then it turned out there wasn’t a restaurant in the Space Needle at all. They got tacos in its shadow. They were incredible, but it was a mistake—when they were all gone it was just 7:35 and it wasn’t clear at all what to do next.

“Hotel,” Caitlin said.

“Great idea, we can be in bed by 8:30,” Nathan said. The world-renowned mind controller, in bed before 9. But they started out in that direction anyway, trained by the kid. The sun had never really appeared, and was now on the way out, so at least they had the excuse of darkness. Everything was misted. It was too cold for their clothes.

“I’ll move here if you want,” Caitlin said, unexpectedly.

They trudged on.

“You have friends in Iowa, its okay to say, Nathan, I think we should stay,” Nathan said. His wife looked cold. Her legs were bare. The rest of his life loomed ahead of him. He rubbed a moist face. “Or say we should move. Whichever. Just tell me.”

Silence from Caitlin. Annoyance flared. “Just fucking say what you want! Christ!”

“I’m not holding back,” Caitlin said, quietly.

“Then tell me what you think!”

‘I think you make all the money, and its your career, so its your call.”

“Come on.”

“Nathan, you know what my life is? I live in a house you put me in, I raise your child, I suck your dick a lot, I make no money. You know how often you talk about your job? Never, ever. I didn’t even know you had a secretary with her tits falling out. I assume that’s a sales thing. So don’t act like I’m your,” she stuttered over it. Nathan’s blood, already chilled and wet, went cold. This was a lot like a brown out. Finally she managed it. “Your PARTNER.”

He stopped walking. “Lets get an uber. We’re still like two miles away.”

Caitlin looked suddenly exhausted. “Sorry,” she mumbled, half-slurred. “Sorry. I know you’re under a lot of stress. I just—I really mean it. Whatever you want is f-fine.”

It was Seattle, and a car took less than a minute to get there. He helped Caitlin in, and she leaned against him. The driver gave them the gentle smile of someone who had seen drunk wives lean against their husband all the time.

“I’m sh—, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Caitlin said, back upstairs. She looked nervous, jittery. She fell onto her knees almost as soon as they were inside the room, just on instinct. Her face was a florid red, and she didn’t bother to take her hoodie off. “I have a bad headache.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Nathan said. He sat down on the bed, and Caitlin automatically started paddling over to him. “That’s what this is. I don’t know.”

“It’s a big decision. We’ll sleep on it,” Caitlin reached for his fly. She only had eyes for it. He shuffled.

“Caitlin, I don’t know,” he said. He really did not feel like it.

“Just a quick one,” Caitlin said. “I’ve got a super bad headache. You’re the best tylenol.”

“Caitlin—”

She looked up at him, eyes shaky. “Nathan, you want my decision? Let me suck your dick and go to bed. I don’t—feel great.”

“Its been a long day,” Nathan mumbled, putting his arms back. Was he really lying even to himself? This was what meddling had done, yet again. He felt a warm, soft mouth yet again. Caitlin had already closed her eyes. Seattle, not a city to miss a cue, started a patter of rain just outside. He rubbed Caitlin’s hair. The best thing that had happened to him in the past year was Caitlin hugging him, after learning it was all a sham, he was as good as fired. Hugging him with Alise’s stink still all over him. And Louise and Carrie.

What would his life have been like, without the very special gift surging through his vans deferens, right that moment? He didn’t have time to consider it, because, even sad, his wife was the best little cocksucker in the United States, and he came all over her mouth. Dutifully, inevitably, she swallowed every drop. Her body slumped into the latest trance.

Nathan picked her up, placed her on the bed, and left the room.

The valet said nothing. Nathan tipped him heavily. He figured it had to be awash on his face, something about leaving his wife alone and tranced in a hotel room, hundreds of miles from home, separated from her son. That had to leave a mark. But perhaps that was just Seattle, people driving off into rain clouds in dark nights, faces wet from incoming storms.

It was just too much to take in. Lying in the dark with Caitlin, tranced or untranced, hearing her breath even breaths, shuffle under the sheets, was too much responsibility. He found I-5 in the darkness, after fumbling with the rental car headlights, trying to figure how to turn them on. It was only 8:23, it wasn’t even really night time yet. Somewhere east his son was in bed, perhaps to grow up with his own genetic legacy to share.

“Just get a vasectomy,” Nathan told himself. “God.” But he knew he couldn’t. He was barely anyone even with the gun between his legs. Without that he was the least notable person in the entire world. And the idea of firing blanks—horrifying. He settled in to the right hand lane. There was still plenty of regular commute traffic on the road, normal people heading back to ordinary lives.

It would be fairly easy to start all over, Nathan thought. The details clustered in his head. He really just needed one pliable person in the office of the social security administration. This time he would have a purpose and a design. Precisely tailored commands forming a network of men and women. He’d sweep into town and clear out every tic and stammer and mental upset in the textbooks. He’d start a gym and be the best motivator anyone had ever seen. Find some new girl…

He recognized the exit and pulled off, abruptly .He was just outside SEATAC. He’d been in a lot of cars around there. On the way up, the backseat of ubers and taxis. On the way back, a new friend giving him a ride to his hotel, eager to talk a little more business.

His business hotel was illuminated with three spotlights, one of them shaded green for contrast. It was effective advertising alongside the highway, especially on dark, bristling nights. Nathan pulled into the parking lot. Redhead would be working, probably. Just arriving for her night shift. He’d cleaned her out of commands—there were only a few—but everyone he met kept at least one. They were happy to share a drink with him.

He hesitated. Certainly no one would go into his room. But he’d never, ever left Caitlin alone, really alone, in trance. How long would she stay like that, rarely blinking, staring up at the ceiling? Mind on auto? He’d never dared to find out how long his trance could last. Maybe she’d hear a snap, from somewhere in the distance. And then she’d look up and he’d be gone. She’d given him a son and—a lot, she’d given a lot.

If he moved his head just slightly Nathan knew he could see the front desk. There were barely any cars in the lot. The desk girl would be hunched over the tabletop, looking at her phone. Her hair would catch the light when he walked in. She’d smile at him. And then what?

He squeezed his eyes closed, inched out of the parking spot, and only opened them when safely pointed away.

“Caitlin?” Nathan said. She was just as he’d left her. It was well after nine. The traffic getting back had been horrible. Finding her still in bed, still tranced, was a mixed relief. “Caitlin, say something.”

“Something,” Caitlin said, in monotone.

He sat on the bed. He’d never, ever talked with her monotone self, her tape recorder side. Never dared ask big questions: what do you think of Nathan, really?

“Caitlin, how many commands has it been?” he said, after a minute.

“One hundred and thirty-nine,” Caitlin said.

Nathan buried his face in his hands. “What’s the last one?” he said.

“Say something.”

“Before that.”

“Lose approximately fifteen pounds in a normal way.”

“The one before THAT.”

“You aren’t threatened by Nathan’s employees.”

Right. One hundred and thirty-nine commands. How had she found space for a personality around all that? And how many were just variations on, suck Nathan’s dick a lot. Make Nathan happy, make cinnamon rolls for Nathan.

“Cancel that one,” Nathan said. One hundred and thirty-eight. What would happen if he cancelled all of them, all at once? Who would wake up? Maybe it would be the Caitlin of 19 years of age, following a boy up the stairs on a whim. Getting the last vibes out of Spain. Making one final story before the flight home. And then she’d never quite gotten the taste out of her mouth.

“What’s the FIRST command?” Nathan said. He couldn’t recall the wording of it at all. He had said it without meaning to. The idea of his nineteen year old self, giving commands, was a horror. He was bad at this at twenty-nine. He should’ve shut his stupid mouth then.

“I love it when you cum in my mouth,” Caitlin duly repeated.

“Did I really say, love?” Nathan said. Caitlin blinked at him. He didn’t remember that part. Love. It had been that bad. From the get-go he’d put her in thrall as much as he could’ve. Nathan tried to hold all the worry and the regrets at bay. If he loved her he had to do something. She was the only thing left in his life worth holding onto. Probably full half of his commands were some variant on dick-sucking, but he had to start somewhere.

“Cancel that first one,” Nathan said. He put his hand up. What was about to happen? He snapped his fingers.