The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I’m here with Reginald,” I said, “so you really need to get out of my way.”

I smiled in satisfaction as the beefy bouncer stepped to the side. “Sorry, ma’am,” he rumbled. “Enjoy your stay, please.”

“Of course,” I said, as if I’d really enjoy myself in a strip bar. Idiot. Forgetting him, I stepped inside and let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Finally, I spotted Reginald in a corner booth, so I made my way in his direction, my high heels clicking the floor.

He was speaking into his cell phone when I arrived at his table. “Sell,” he said, “but not for less than 500k, understand? Not a penny less.” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand as I sat down. “Hello, Carmen. I ordered some champagne for you. It should be here shortly,” he said. I nodded, and he went back to his phone call. “Also, make Marcus an offer for the waterfront property. Yes, I know he’s pissed about the court settlement, but I’ve got him by the balls and he knows it. Fine. I’ll get back to you later,” he said. Then he disconnected the call and looked at me. “Good evening, baby. I’m glad you made it.”

“Of course I made it, Reginald,” I said, “I told you I would be here, even if I don’t approve of this place. What is it called again?”

Reginald chuckled. “It’s called the Grin and Bare It. The finest strip club in Chrystal Heights.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say. I fired the housekeeper today, incidentally. I’m pretty sure she’s been stealing.”

“And you think she’s been coming on to me,” he said.

“I didn’t say that,” I said. “Also, I had the stone in my ring reset, and I ordered matching earrings. Maria measured for the new drapes and I had Carlos get the leather seats reupholstered in the Lexus.”

Reginald didn’t quite cringe. “You certainly cost me a lot of money today,” he said.

I shrugged. “You knew I was expensive when we started going out,” I said.

He nodded. “True,” he said, “models are usually expensive dates. But you were certainly worth it.”

I offered a cool smile. Reginald had enough money to date anyone he wanted, but last year he had become obsessed with the waif-thin twenty-one year old girl with the short black hair who had appeared in Veronica’s Secret lingerie catalogue. He used his resources to track me down, and after my next shoot, I had agreed to go out with him. His money turned out to be an aphrodisiac, and, although he had been hesitant, I moved in over his reservations.

The waitress arrived with my drink. I turned the glass slowly in my gloved hand, then handed it back to the waitress. “If you wish to keep your job, sweetie, you’ll bring me the next drink in a clean glass.” The waitress accepted the dress-down meekly, knowing well I could get her fired if I chose to pursue it. Reginald expected- and received-top level service, and, by extension, I did as well. She left to get my new drink, and Reginald chuckled.

“That’s the way to get what you want, honey. Don’t wait for permission; just take it. I like it,” he said.

I smiled and looked around. The lights were dim, but there were small spotlights on several overdeveloped dancers in various stages of undress. “So, what it is it about this place that you like? It seems...dirty.”

Reginald chuckled. “It is. The dancers don’t just dance; their bodies are for rent as well. One special caveat about this place, however. Several of the dancers are actually owned by the bar.”

I laughed. “Very amusing,” I said.

“I’m serious,” he said. “This bar has a special license, and it legally owns several of the dancers. Many girls who have been arrested for large amounts of debt or identity theft are even sentenced by Judge Hanover to work here to pay off their debt.”

I shrugged. The lower class had their own problems.

Reginald continued, “See the dancers with the leather collars?”

I looked closer. Several of the girls dancing did indeed have collars on. The collars appeared to match what little clothing they had on. The ones that actually had clothing, anyway.

“Those collars are locked on and wired,” he said. “The girls can’t go farther than fifty feet outside this club or they get jolted into insensibility.”

“Well, I’m sure they deserve what they get,” I said.

Reginald looked bemused. “Really?” he said.

I nodded. “Oh, yes. If they’re stupid enough to get themselves in this situation, then they deserve what they get.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh, dear?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I mean, look at them! All they have going for them are those over-developed curves. This is all they can do. They’d never make it as models, I can tell you.”

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have your genetics,” he said.

I nodded. “I know.” I would have said more, but I stopped because at that moment, one of the dancers walked up to Reginald.

“Hi, Reginald!” she chirped. “Didja like my dance?”

Reginald chuckled almost affectionately. “I did, Phoebe. You were perfect.”

Phoebe pressed quite close to Reginald. She had on a plaid schoolgirl skirt with a red crop-top and white thigh high stockings. Her exotic curves were generous, and her breasts were simply huge, double D-cups at the very least. Her blonde hair was big, spiky and long, all the way down to her waist, and the girl’s lush body radiated sexual heat as well. Her bangs were spiky and her face was framed by the black leather collar on her throat. Even her lips were thick and sensuous. Altogether, the whole package screamed, “slut!” We were almost exactly the same age, but so far apart in social standing that it wasn’t even worth the time to get irked with her for hovering next to Reginald.

“You big liar!” she said. “I haven’t even danced yet!”

“Well, then, you better get to it, sweetie,” he said, and she flounced off with a pout.

“Oh, she’s a real winner,” I said.

“Phoebe’s fine, Carmen,” he said. “She’s sweet and nice to everybody. At least, so far. She’s only been here a few days.”

“She has to be nice,” I said, “It’s her job.” Then I looked at her collar. “And not her only job, obviously,” I said with a smirk.

“Carmen,” Reginald said reprovingly, “you’re being very judgemental.”

I shrugged. “The privilege of the upper class, dear,” I said. “Look, your little minx is dancing now.”

Reginald glanced at the stage. Phoebe was prancing about on her heels, her hips rolling. Then she spun, her back to the audience, and she bent over slowly, showing off her ass to the leering men. Then she spun back around and continued her titillating moves. Once her top had been stripped off, I stopped watching.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll go far, sweetie,” I said.

Reginald chuckled. “Why don’t you go tip her?” he said.

“Very funny,” I said.

“I’m serious. It’s a nice thing to do, and it’ll give you a closer perspective on the scene.” His tone was half-serious, half-mocking, and I realized he didn’t think I would do it.

I smiled. “Of course,” I said.

His eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Give me a bill.”

He handed me a bill, and I stood and approached the stage. The aroma of stale beer was stronger here, and a pall of smoke hovered in the air. Phoebe saw me coming and walked to the edge of the stage. She stuck out her hip, offering her garter belt, which already held several bills of different denominations. With two fingers, I pulled the garter belt away from the lush girl’s thigh and slid the bill into the elastic. I looked up just as I released the garter and caught Phoebe’s full gaze.

Her eyes were a deep blue. My gaze was locked onto hers, and I realized I couldn’t pull free. Her hips were moving side-to-side in rhythm to the beat of the song playing, and my hips began to match her movement. Then her shoulders began to shimmy in rhythm, and my shoulders began to do the same. Phoebe leaned forward and ran her tongue over those full, thick lips, and my tongue did the same. Then her eyes widened, then narrowed, and suddenly her face blurred altogether.

When my vision cleared, I realized I was still dancing the same way, but Phoebe’s face had changed. She looked a lot like me. In fact, she looked exactly like me. And then I realized something else.

I was jiggling.

It was impossible for me to jiggle. I didn’t have any breasts to speak of. I was a Veronica’s Secret model and practically had the body of a little boy, but suddenly I was jiggling.

After an eternity, Phoebe broke our locked gaze. But she still appeared to be wearing my face. Then my heart started pounded as she turned and walked away, and I realized I could see the customers behind her.

She was walking away in my body.

My eyes widened. Omigod. I was wearing that girl’s overdeveloped body. My boobs were jiggling with every step, and my mass of spiky blonde hair was flowing over my bare shoulders. That little minx had-

My bare shoulders?

I squealed as I suddenly realized my boobs were completely bare and exposed to everyone in the room. My arms crossed instinctively over my huge masses. I saw Phoebe’s back- my back- as she walked to Reginald’s table.

“You bitch!” I screamed. “Give me back my body!”

I leaped off the stage and raced toward the table. Two beefy bouncers were there long before I reached Phoebe. “Let me go!” I screeched. “She’s got my body!”

The manager rushed over while the two bouncers restrained me. The manager looked to Reginald, who shrugged. “I don’t know what happened,” he said. “She seemed fine a few minutes ago.” He turned to Phoebe. “Carmen, did she say anything to you when you tipped her?”

My face looked cold and arrogant. The face of a woman who expected only the best and got it. The face of a woman on top of the world. The face of a woman who didn’t have time for trashy strippers.

“Yes,” said Phoebe, “she said I didn’t deserve what I had, and that it should all be hers.”

“Sir,” said the manager, “I am truly sorry for this disturbance. Ma’am, is there anything we can do?”

“Yes,” said Phoebe, “Could you please take out the trash for me?”

“What?!?” I shrieked. “You can’t believe her! She stole my body! She—”

The bouncer tossed my over his shoulder with one arm. I kicked and squealed, but it didn’t do any good.

“Take her in the back and zap her,” I heard the manager say.

Hearing that, I went crazy. I screeched and twisted, and the bouncer lost his grip. I landed on the ground and went straight for Phoebe.

“Nevermind,” said the manager, “just pop her with some heat.”

I had almost made it to the table when I heard a pffft and something sharp stung my backside. I yelped and slapped my hand to the spot and found three tiny spiked balls connected by a chain, much like the tazers used by police. The delay allowed the second bouncer to step between me and the table. Then, a few moments later, I realized the second bouncer didn’t matter.

A wave of heat swept through my body. I felt the nipples on my over-developed chest stiffen and I gasped as my belly muscles began to twitch and jump in undeniable need. I tried to take another step, but my legs gave way and I dropped to my knees, my hands tearing the schoolgirl skirt and thong panties away from my body. I slid my fingers into my sex, trying desperately to satisfy the sexual need that had completely overwhelmed my body. I had lost my shoes in the melee, so I laid on the floor, completely naked, legs spread as I desperately masturbated myself in public. I could feel the bemused stares from many eyes but couldn’t stop touching myself. I was moaning helplessly as my fingers pinched and teased my hot button, but none of my panic-driven efforts brought that climax I needed so horribly.

I had a vague sensation of flying, and I realized that one of the bouncers had scooped me off the floor and was carrying me away. I still couldn’t stop fingering myself, however. My head rolled to the side, and I could see my own face just smirking at me. But it got farther and farther away, and then nothing mattered except for the fact that I needed an orgasm in the worst way.

I was unceremoniously plopped on a couch in the back, but I never paused. My sex burned with need, and my belly muscles jumped at every touch of my hot button. But horribly, frustratingly, I couldn’t satisfy myself. I continued to masturbate myself helplessly in front of the bouncers. I was horribly humiliated but simply unable to stop myself.

Then I felt a pair of hands gripping my hips. “You know, sweetheart, the only way to make it stop is to get a pussy full of cum,” said a bouncer’s gravelly voice.

There was a snort of laughter from the other bouncer. “Yeah, right. Oh, and you have to swallow some cum, too. Yep,” he said.

I gasped when I felt the thick penetration of something solid sliding into my sex. I burned with embarrassment as I realized it was the bouncer’s cock, but I was too needy to fight him. The sensations caused me to moan, however, and suddenly I was on all fours, my hips bucking back to meet his thrusts like I was a wanton slut. I wasn’t a virgin, but I had never experienced sensations like this. I burned with need, and was willing to do whatever it took to satisfy my heated belly muscles.

The bouncer gripped my hips with his big hands and grunted, “Hell, yeah...that’s it, babe...won’t be long.” The other bouncer moved in front of me, his zipper down, his cock hanging out of his pants.

“Hey, you need some in your belly too if it’s going to work, you know,” said the second bouncer. He nodded in a sincere manner.

Damn. This was humiliating enough already. I certainly didn’t suck cock. However, that thought misted away in the face of burning need, and I slid my mouth over his member. Almost instantly, I could feel him hardening in my mouth. Soon my lips were wrapped firmly around his hard shaft and my mouth was sliding back-and-forth along his cock while the other bouncer pounded me silly from behind.

Soon I felt the first bouncer’s big hands tighten on my rounded hips, and he pulled me against him, my rounded ass pressing against his lower belly. He let out a bellow, and I realized he was indeed ejaculating inside me. His hands held my hips in place, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The burning need continued, however, and I doubled my efforts to please the cock in my mouth.

Shortly, I was rewarded for my efforts as the bouncer stiffened and slid his fingers into my hair. I couldn’t move my head, and suddenly my eyes widened as he began to fill my mouth with cum. Helplessly, I swallowed the seemingly endless stream of cum flowing from the bouncer’s cock. I could feel my belly filling and waited anxiously for the horrible burning need to go away.

The first bouncer had released me, and the second bouncer finally slid his cock out of my mouth. I felt horribly empty, and I was burning with embarrassment, and almost instantly I was again sliding my fingers into my sex. “Oh! Oh! Oh! It won’t stop it won’t stop it hasn’t stopped...!” I said.

The bouncers laughed. “It will fade away on its own in a few minutes, sweetie, don’t worry,” said the first bouncer. “It’ll be a little longer before you can cum, but the heat will fade in a few minutes.”

Shit. Oh, shit. I couldn’t take this. I had to orgasm. I had to. I couldn’t even pull my fingers away from my sex.

I thought I would die, but eventually, the horrible burning need did fade. I was still helplessly aroused, however, and my new lush body did nothing to help. These nipples were far more sensitive than my own nipples ever had been, and everything seemed to be coated in a sexual mist. I stood up and realized I was embarrassingly wet, and I needed a shower in the worst way. Also, the only thing I was wearing was a collar.

I was trying to figure out how to get the collar off when the manager stuck his head in the doorway. “Phoebe, you’re on in five,” he said, “and we’ll talk about your fuck-up when you’re done with your set.”

I nodded miserably. That sounded ominous, and there wasn’t any point in trying to tell him I wasn’t actually Phoebe. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t actually know what I was on for in five minutes. Then my eyes widened as I realized exactly what I was on for.

I had to dance naked for the people out there.

Shit. Oh, shit. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know how. But, I couldn’t let myself get “popped with heat” again, either. Oh, damn, I needed clothes.

I calmed my breathing the best I could and looked around. I found the remnants of the schoolgirl outfit Phoebe had been wearing and put it on. The shoes were still by our table, so I’d just have to do this barefoot. I hoped the floor was clean. Yeah, right.

I stepped out on the stage, and immediately noticed that the manager and three bouncers were in the immediate vicinity. Reginald’s table was empty, but apparently the manager wasn’t taking any chances on me flipping out again.

My heart was already pounding, but it jack-hammered as soon as I heard the music start playing. I stepped forward tentatively and began rolling my hips. After several bars, I finally relaxed enough to move in a way that wasn’t quite as wooden, but it wasn’t going to win any awards. Finally, I just closed my eyes and pretended I was alone.

Thank God what they said about guys in strip clubs was true. I didn’t know what I was doing, but just shaking my ridiculously rounded ass and shimmying my overdeveloped tits- they couldn’t be real, they were too damn big!— was enough. I didn’t exactly get a standing ovation when I was done, but I didn’t get thrown off the stage either.

I was pretty flushed from embarrassment when I finished, but a little proud of myself, too. My heart rate was finally slowing to normal when the manager walked over.

“Phoebe,” he said, “you’ve got a blowjob at table seven- that’s the gent in the top hat, and he wants you under the table, not in the back- and the black gentleman at table eleven will be doing you after that. When you’re done with him, eat a quick dinner, because you’ll be with the two gentlemen at table four for the rest of the night after that. They both want a MAPs special, so you’ll be excused from dancing for the rest of the night.”

I tried not to look panicked. A blowjob?!? A black man?!? And.. “What’s a MAPs special?” I asked.

The manager looked annoyed. “You know damn well what that is, Phoebe. MAP...mouth, ass and pussy. Yes, I know two MAPs in one night is tough, but if you do good...and I mean, no complaints at all...then maybe I will forget about your fuck-up earlier tonight. Do we understand each other?”

I fought down the rising panic and nodded. Phoebe had managed to lock me helplessly into this body and this life. Unless someone figured it out, my life now was blowjobs, MAPs and dancing.

The next morning, I stumbled towards my bed. I was so full of cum that I was pretty sure I was squishing when I walked.

The blowjob had been embarrassing, but easy enough, I supposed. I had never given one before in my life, but ended up filling my belly twice within hours of each other. I blushed just thinking about Taylor, the black man. He had lasted a long time, and the arousal left over from my being heat popped caused me to be embarrassingly reactive to his fucking, and I found myself enmeshed in orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Taylor thought he was the greatest thing ever when he left.

The two gentlemen and their MAPs sessions were the most humiliating experiences of my life. They were young and horny and just came in every orifice I had. Unfortunately, much like with Taylor, my repressed arousal caused me to orgasm from everything they did, even when they did my virgin ass. Thank goodness it was Phoebe’s ass, as she didn’t seem to be a virgin back there.

Several weeks later I was servicing a customer orally. My lips were wrapped around the base of the man’s shaft, and his cock was nestled deep in my collared throat. His cock hardened even more and suddenly his cum was filling my mouth. I swallowed it as fast as he pumped it into my mouth, and soon my belly was once again full. His cock still in my mouth, I finally realized someone was watching us.

I looked sideways and realized Reginald, Phoebe and two police officers had been standing there, apparently enjoying the show. Reginald looked bemused. Phoebe- still in my body- was handcuffed.

I jumped up, oblivious of my topless state, and squealed. “Oh, my gawd! You figured it out finally!”

Reginald nodded. “Hello, Carmen. Yes, we did. She tried to be you for a little while, but it didn’t work. Then she tried to run. It took me a while to remember you screaming about her stealing your body, but I figured it out before she had a chance to jump bodies again. Anyway, she’s going to switch back now.”

The two police officers each took an arm and brought her forward. She looked at me sullenly.

“Sorry. It wasn’t anything personal,” she said.

“Just switch us back now,” I said through clenched teeth.

Our gazes locked, and, just like the time before, I felt the disconcerting flipping of perspective. And then, I knew everything was going to be alright.

Fortunately for Phoebe, I was now handcuffed and being restrained by two police officers. Once the switch was confirmed, they released my arms and took hold of Phoebe’s. I gazed at her lush, responsive body one last time, then smirked.

“By the way, sweetie,” I said, “I couldn’t find your birth control pills, so guess what? You’re pregnant. Good luck finding the father. If the baby is black, speak to a man named Taylor. Maybe he’ll help you.”

Phoebe flushed, and I basked in the moment as the officers led her away.

Suddenly, I realized something. “Hey, they forgot to take these handcuffs off!” I said.

“No, they didn’t,” said Reginald. “I told them to leave them on. I thought a little bondage might be nice for our reunion.”

I giggled, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “What?!?” I said. “I don’t think so!”

“Are you sure, Carmen?” he asked.

“Hell, yes!” I said.

“Okay,” said Reginald, “in that case, I’ll try my other new toy.”

“Oh?” I said, running my tongue across my lips. “What toy would that be?”

“They called it a heat popper,” he said.

Pfffft!