The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“You approve of me,” Nathan said, to the latest slack-jawed company rep. “You approve of my company’s products. You approve of selling to us.”

He’d spent a lot of time with a thesaurus, coming up with exact wording. After Carli, “like” was out of the trance vocabulary. Too closely bound up with love and attraction. He’d nearly gone with “admire” but decided against it. Too fan-boy. “Approve” had worked perfectly, especially given that it was about approving product purchases. He snapped his fingers.

This rep was in her late thirties, warm and maternal face, dirt blonde. His cock, roused to spit out sales juice, had ideas. There were pictures of her kids in the office, her husband.

“Thanks, Nathan,” Alicia said. As ever, her mind smoothly filled in the interstitial gaps. Her smile started out businesslike, hesitated, and then added real affection. She approved of him. “You know how it is, it all goes to committee.” She rolled her eyes: you know how committees go. Of course, if it was up to HER…

He’d worked out the exact sequence of commands in his head, for a quickie fuck. Something to do on the many plane flights he took. You want to fuck Nathan that night. It will be emotionally satisfying to have a one-night stand with Nathan. You will let Nathan use you and then forget all about it the next day. You want to suck Nathan’s cock.

Instead he settled for a very approving handshake.

“Nathan… Nathan... “ the hotel clerk said, to herself. This one was a redhead, perfect smatter of freckles, curves poured into company khakis. But what he really noticed was that, during routine interactions, she put the tip of her pen in her mouth. The very one he’d written down his license plate information with. Nathan noticed every woman around him who did that. The debonair black-haired one who left her coffee cup unattended at the airport, the stewardess who kept her water bottle near the jump seat with the latch open.

He hadn’t done anything about it, not even once. He’d just noticed it.

The clerk took her pen out of her mouth and set it on the granite desktop between them. Her eyes concentrated on the computer display. “There you are. One night. I’ll get your room key. Is there anything else I can do for you during your stay?”

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. Nathan didn’t bother looking at it. It was his wife sending him pictures of her pussy.

The room upstairs had the same familiar bedspread. He’d been in that hotel a dozen times already that year. To the point of recognizing hotel clerks—redhead was new, her nametag pinned right above her breasts. He’d made a point of not looking at her name.

Ten new messages from Caitlin.

They were themed—Caitlin on all fours, starting from the bathroom, completely naked, backing her way towards the camera as it flashed and flashed. Or possibly moving away from the camera, it wasn’t clear what order it was. At any rate, the top picture was of a completely smooth and shaven pussy, held open by Caitlin’s fingers. He could just see part of her wedding ring. Then her ass entered frame, her tits caught in mid-sway, and then the rest of her.

N:

Good story-telling

C:

thank u thank u

C:

waxed and ready for your return flight

C:

mouth is set

N:

almost gametime

C:

put me in coach!!

N:

can you call and talk me off

The phone buzzed right away.

“Your hand need a lil help?” Caitlin said. She had adopted a phone sex voice—an extra-breathy version of usual Caitlin. Nathan had mixed emotions about it. On the one hand, her detached, Engineer-girl voice coupled with regular slobbering on his dick had always been an enjoyable contrast. On the other hand, this had a raw, real sexuality.

“My hand is sad,” Nathan said. He had pulled his cock out already. “It misses you.” He started to pump.

“I’m looking forward to the mouth/slit game,” Caitlin said. He heard her walking through their new apartment. It was much bigger. There was talk about buying a house, although Nathan wasn’t sure “Iowan homeowner” was part of his life vision. “Its been Caitlin’s pussy the last two times, so my mouth is ready for a comeback. But nothing is guaranteed!”

He was already close. Actually, Nathan had been sporting wood since drugging his potential client. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I want you to stick that nice hard cock in my mouth and pump it into me,” Caitlin told him. “I’m so proud of you, you know. All that cum you make, and all for me, fucking my little lips…”

“Oof,” Nathan said. He waddled with his pants down to the bathroom, cum already dripping off his fingers. Any hotel room he was in would glow incandescent under a blacklight. He aimed at the toilet. “Okay.”

“You’re aiming at the potty? Just picture my mouth, baby,” Caitlin cooed. That did it. He let loose, shooting ropes into the water. Four powerful surges. Nathan was sure he was producing more spunk. He usually came at least three times a day—his balls became cranky and full otherwise. He was afraid to tell a doctor.

“Boom,” Nathan said. He sat down on the toilet seat. “You doing okay?”

“I mean... “ Caitlin trailed off. Phone sex Caitlin was replaced by normal Caitlin. “Gets pretty lonely. I told myself, this is what finishing a thesis is like, its always shitty… anyway, you just came and my spaghetti is now probably very mushy.”

“Call me later if you want, I have nothing to do.”

“No one TO do, you horny boy.” There was a mutual silence on the line. There wasn’t that much to talk about. His flight had been fine. But there was something there, something only a married man could hear. “Everything okay?” he said.

Another too-long silence.

“Just missing you. Hurry home,” Caitlin hung up.

That had filled ten minutes, and it was now 6:14 p.m.

Nathan settled back onto the bedspread and spread his arms all the way out. Ahead of him loomed a walk to the ‘food’ area of a strip mall, twenty-five minutes of running on a hotel treadmill, and then whatever was on ESPN.

While in the shower he usually indulged in various fantasies, almost all revolving around him wisely solving world problems through use of hypnotic cum. Post-shower and morning was for working through whether he really could do more—couldn’t he rehab people with mental illness? Brush away depression with a spoonful of sugar? The ultimate psychologist—simply close your eyes and open your mouth.

Nighttime was for worried, anxious thoughts: what if he got caught? He’d be strapped to a table at a CIA black site and milked five times a day. Heck, in the wrong hands, his cum could probably destroy the world. What would happen if he told someone to die? He’d already seen Caitlin short her own brain out, however briefly, trying to obey an impossible command. Since that day he’d given her zero new commands. Enough had to be enough. She was his wife and willing cum dump.

That had to be enough.

Late at night was time for: what am I doing with my life?

Later, on the way back from Chipotles, the time 7:34 p.m., he stopped in the hotel lobby. Redhead was still on duty. She was obviously right out of college and was barely five foot two. She probably weighed half of what Caitlin did. All he had to say was: come upstairs for a drink. Then she’d be all his for the night.

Honestly he only needed a half-hour.

Tell her it was a meaningless fling, order her that there were no consequences, that she simply felt, for a night, like getting her mouth blasted by a guest’s dick. Turndown service.

She made it so easy—just while he was in the lobby, pretending to look at his phone, lobby girl put her pen cap between her lips a half-dozen times. It wasn’t really cheating, or, at least, not worse then face-fucking a girl at his own wedding. He was hard again, despite just hosing down the potty an hour before. Another good rationale: he was just physiologically different. He needed to cum in buckets.

His phone buzzed: his boss announcing they’d gotten the contract. So they hadn’t even bothered with the sales committee. No surprise, Nathan had drugged half of them on previous trips. They really approved of him.

Another buzz, right after it. Caitlin asking if she could call.

Sne sniffed immediately after he called, a bad sign.

“You okay?” Caitlin said. Classic Caitlin. If she dragged herself to the front door, missing a leg, she’d ask first how he was doing.

“What’s wrong?” he made his way up the elevator, lobby girl unmolested. She probably gave lousy head anyway.

“It’s my fucking thesis, I just… I just keep banging my head against it again and again and again. Its way too ambitious, I am completely out of my depth... “

“I’m SURE you can do it,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, no. My advisor should’ve said no, honestly, like I’m glad he came around but this is just... “ she sniffed into the phone. “I’m thinking of quitting the program.”

“Oh, boy,” Nathan said. “And what?”

“I don’t know. Clean up and give a lot of head.”

“You’re a lousy cleaner,” Nathan said. Back on the bedspread. They were quiet on the phone together for a long time.

“Can you come home any sooner? I need it. You. You know.”

Nathan knew the flight timetables well. There was a midnight flight. No, it was past midnight, it departed at 1:05 a.m. 5:45 a.m. arrival. He’d be fuzzy and miserable the next day.

“Okay,” he said.