The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Much of the next month of Kevin’s life was spent hip deep in work, although he certainly made time to enjoy himself here and there. The film was scheduled to be content locked in just a few days’, and that meant endless amounts of tiny twiddles. He was starting to lose his damn mind with the amount of slight decibel tweakage he’d done in the past week alone. He wanted to tell them to let their sound engineer handle it, but it was his first major film project, so he wanted to be a team player and help out wherever he could.

Fatima’s father had been ecstatic that they were going to get married, telling Kevin that he’d been starting to think that maybe his daughter would never settle down. The fact that her father hinted so heavily that they should provide grandchildren soon was a little disconcerting, but Kevin decided to let all that slide for the time being.

The wedding had been set in a year’s time. If it had been up to Kevin, it would’ve been done quickly and without much fuss, but Fatima’s family had been adamant it be a massive production. On one hand, it meant that the entire wedding would be paid for, and incredibly extravagant, but on the other hand, parts of it were going to be filmed for an episode of her father’s reality show, which wasn’t thrilling to either himself or his bride-to-be. Still, as she pointed out, trying to fight against her father’s wishes was like trying to swim upstream. You might make some progress, but it would be far more exhausting than it was probably worth.

Once he’d gotten past getting the film score to final lock, he found that his days opened up a bunch more than they’d seemed, which let him sort of relax and focus on his other half, looking for groups he would be willing to produce. While at first it had seemed like a number of opportunities would be springing his way, he’d found many of the people who had sent him demo tapes to be, well, excessively dull and unoriginal. It wasn’t that they were bad per se, but they just didn’t do anything all that unique, they had derivative sounds that reminded him of too many other bands he’d heard over the years. There was another stack of demos waiting for him to listen to, but for the time being, he needed a break and had decided to spend a few minutes noodling on his guitar.

As it so often did, a few minutes turned into a few hours and before he knew it, the door to his studio space was opening as Ashley made her way inside of the studio room. She’d come back from classes and had obviously come right down to the studio, because she had her backpack slung over one shoulder. She was dressed in bright pink leggings that clung to her svelte legs and a cropped t-shirt that left a more than generous amount of her midriff exposed. Her long blonde curls were up in a boisterous ponytail held in place by a fluffy neon pink scrunchy. All in all, she very much had a sort of 1980s aerobics instructor vibe going on. “Hey Kevin, Elizabeth said you’d been down here for hours and hadn’t even really poked your head out,” the energetic college student said. “It’s not good for you to zone out and lose track of time.”

“I’ve been sketching out a song idea, so I wouldn’t say I lost track of time,” he said, placing his guitar on the stand next to his chair. “How were classes?”

“Boooorrrrrinnnnngggg,” the teenager said to him. “I mean, I get that freshman year in college is supposed to be shit you already know, but, like, why does it all have to be taught like we don’t know it? I mean, give us new shit to learn here and there!”

He was about to answer when she moved over to slide into his lap, settling her ass down on top of him. She reached her hand back to drag her fingernails against the back of his neck, leaning in to gently press her lips against his. It was a soft and tender, but quickly started to ramp up as her tongue braced its way into his mouth, her nubile form starting to writhe against him some.

“See? You could be doing something much more exciting than picking away at your guitar.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled. “What could I be doing more exciting than that?”

“You could be doing me,” she purred as she reached down and tugged the croptop off, casting it to the floor of the studio, leaving her perky tits completely unveiled for his eyes.

“Don’t you wear a bra to class?” he teased.

“Usually, but not today,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “Figured you might need some relaxation and I didn’t want all that much between you and these puppies.” Ashley’s hands grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face to press between her breasts, as her other hand mashed one of them up into him even more.

There was always something energetic about Ashley, like she was a giant kitten and all of life was just a laser pointer for her to scurry around, chasing for her own amusement, no real desire to catch it, but just enough for tucker her out for a bit.

She shifted and swayed her ass in his lap, grinding down on him until it seemed like she was convinced he was ready as she scooted forward and pulled his cock out, giving it a long stroke as she giggled once more. “I know we’re not supposed to play much in the studio, but I’ve never listened much to what you tell me,” she purred, as she shimmied her leggings down to just mid-thigh before scooching back up into his lap, holding his dick in place before she pushed herself down onto it, settling into his lap. “Fuck, I’m never gonna get tired of this.”

Kevin had taken some time to get used to the girl’s exhaustive sexual appetites, but if anything was ever truly too far, he didn’t have a problem putting his foot down and saying he needed a time out, and all the women in his life understood that sometimes he could be a little overwhelmed with it all. Ashley, however, had taken it entirely to the next level, willing to do most of the work for him, because she knew what she wanted, she’d figured out what he wanted, and she liked both of them enjoying themselves and having a great time.

Once her ass was nestled against his crotch, she started bouncing, not long thrusts, but tiny little bounces, at least at first, whipping down harder each time, making sure his cock slotted in good and deep inside of her each time. The pace started to pick up as her hands clenched onto his thighs a bit more, bucking herself up and down in his lap.

“Oh God fuck fuck fuck oh God omiGAWD!” she said as she suddenly stood up and hopped forward towards the stack of demo tapes that were resting the mixing console in front of her. “Holy shit, Kev! Holy fucking shit!” Her hands pushed the first four or five off the top and onto the floor as she grabbed onto one of the CDs towards the middle of the stack. “You’re doing this, right? I mean, aren’t you?” she said, waving the CD towards him, her leggings still clinging to the center of her thighs.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at how they’d come to a screeching halt, and as she held out the CD to him, he glanced at the writing atop of it, letting him know who it was and what it was for. “I… don’t know? I’ve never even heard of, who is that? Kathy Zin?”

“It’s Christy Fucking Zen, dude!” she squealed, jumping up and down, looking at him in utter disbelief and maybe even a touch of condescension. “How the fuck do you not know who Christy Fucking Zen is? Like, did you just ignore pop music for the last ten years or something?”

“More than that,” he chuckled, tucking his cock away, since clearly they’d moved on to other things. “Okay, so enlighten me. Who’s Christy Fucking Zen?” he said, gently mocking her enthusiasm a little, just enough so that she would spot it as teasing.

Ashley pulled up her leggings to her waist, but didn’t bother to grab her shirt as she hopped back into his lap, this time sideways, so she could sit in his lap like he was Santa Claus. “So, like, ten years ago there was this show on the Disney Channel called ‘Amber’s Adventures,’ and the girl who played Amber, her name was Christy Zen, and she was, like, the most pure and optimistic girl I’d ever fucking seen. And she grew up on this show, having all these adventures, going to all these places, and when she was a teenager, she started recording all these poppy, catchy songs, all written by her, all based on her own life, and they were, like, totally the best. They were about school and boys and the problems of having unreliable friends and things that every girl could totally fucking relate to. I mean, she was the soundtrack of my fucking youth!”

“Yeah, maybe you haven’t really listened to the stuff we make down here, Ashley, but I think I couldn’t record a pop single if you gave me a million dollars,” he laughed. “I am so not the kind of person she wants producing an album.”

“No!” she said, hopping off his lap, taking the demo CD from its case and putting it into the player on the desk. “No no no no, listen listen, she’s totally moved beyond the whole pop star things, and she’s gotten into, like, punk rock and industrial and like old people revival rock, like grunge and nu metal and that kind of stuff!”

Kevin in terror mouthed the phrase ‘old people revival rock’ before trying to relax his knee jerk tendency to reject anything that scoffed at the music that had been en vogue when he’d been growing up. The fact that people were describing grunge as ‘old people’ music made him want to get angry, but he had to let her slide, because she wasn’t old enough to know better.

“And you think I should produce her next album, do you?”

“Clearly she wants you to,” Ashley said, moving to sit down on her knees, her heels under her ass, holding the empty CD case in her hands. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have sent you a demo tape, would she? I want to meet her so fucking bad. She’s like my total fucking hero. She was doing the pop thing until she couldn’t take it anymore and then went off to do her own thing, to make songs that really spoke to her. And at 18, she emancipated herself from her parents, because they were spending all of the money she was making, which is total bullshit. They weren’t out there doing any of the work! She was acting! She was singing! She was touring while still making a television show!”

“It does sound like a whole hell of a lot of work.”

“It totally was! And then Disney tried to come down hard on her when she came of age, trying to make her sign a contract that said she couldn’t do anything that would embarrass them, or represent them in an inappropriate light!”

“Did she?”

“NO! Well, I mean, not until after she left Disney’s employ. Once she stopped working for the mouse and started working for herself, and then she didn’t answer to nobody!”

Kevin sighed. “And what if I don’t like what I hear on the demo tape?”

“But what if you do?”

“I’ve already got a bunch of clients, Ashley. Taking on another one is nothing light or easy.”

Ashley whined a little bit, setting down the demo CD case, folding her hands in front of her. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you for anything serious, Kevin, but I’m asking for this. I will do whatever it takes to get you to produce her next record. You can pick out any girl at my college and I’ll get her to fuck you. I’ll even fuck you with her! Or fuck her with you! Or both! I will clean the whole house for a month! Whatever it takes, Kev! I just… I just gotta meet her, okay? She’s… she’s my inspiration.”

Kevin frowned a little bit, as he stood up. “Fuck, I really hope she’s a good songwriter,” he said, making his way over to the console and pushing play, waiting to have his fate decided. Something inside of him said he was going to hate it, that it was going to be the worst trash he’d ever heard. It was going to be hippie folky trash, or it was going to be some poseur trying to pretend to be as good as the things she’d heard other people listening to.

He braced himself…

…and pushed play.

For the next twenty minutes, he and Ashley sat and listened as the music played, song after song, unable to bring words to his lips. Five songs, each no shorter than three minutes and no longer than five minutes. And by the end of it…

…Kevin knew he was going to produce Christy Zen’s next record.

The chord progressions were interesting and not at all what he’d expected, certainly not sticking to the G-C-A he’d gotten used to from pop melodies. More importantly, however, the songs weren’t just about boys and parties and typical vapid pop bullshit. One of the songs was about how betrayed she’d felt by those who were supposed to be protecting her, taking care of her. How could she trust again, how could she love again? Another was about what kind of legacy would she be leaving behind if all she ever did was smile on television? The vocal tones were plaintive and emotive in a way that he certainly hadn’t expected.

“Damn,” he said as the last few seconds of the demo CD played. “That was unexpected.”

“Right?” Ashley said. “So, you’ll do it? You’ll make her album?”

“I’ve got a two-week window starting in two days, and if she can make that work, yeah, I’ll produce her record.”

Ashley hopped back to her feet and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you thank you thank you! Any time I’m not in classes, I’ll be here to be her assistant and yours and do whatever needs to be done around the studio or in terms of getting her lunch or dinner or whatever you need to make sure—”

Kevin laughed, interrupting her. “I got it, I got it, Ashley. You’re her number one superfan and you want to make sure she makes a great record.”

Ashley kissed him hard, her fingertips stroking the back of his head. “And I want to say thank you…”

After that, everything moved ridiculously fast. Zen’s people were so excited about working with him that they actually cancelled a couple of appearances she had planned during the two-week period so that she could spend the entire time working on the album. They said that Zen didn’t want to talk to him until she showed up on day one, but once she got there, she was going to be all in.

On the first day of recording, Zen was scheduled to show up at noon, as Kevin made it clear he didn’t fare well in the mornings, especially considering how they had exactly fourteen days to get a dozen or so songs, with no room for either of them past it.

She showed up at 11:30.

Kevin met her at the front door to his house and found that Christy Zen had even taken her efforts to making sure they had a good working relationship to a new level. He opened the door to find her standing on the other side, wearing ripped jeans and a dearly loved and faded Truth Knife t-shirt. She wasn’t pushing the punk look too far, a green stripe through her dark brown hair, nothing extreme about the cut, although he thought he could see hints of an undercut just above one of her temples. She was a lot shorter than he’d expected, barely an inch or two above five feet tall, with an almost plump face although she was curvy in all the right places, filling out that shirt better than almost anyone he’d ever seen before.

“That can’t possibly be yours,” he laughed as he invited her and her bandmates in. The guitarist was a local kid named Jaden Yang whom he’d seen playing in several bands, although he just hadn’t found a place to call a home of his own. The bassist, Tanya Willis, was one of the best session bassists in LA, and had been on tour with loads of great bands. And the drummer, well, Nicky Ice literally was the best mercenary drummer that money could buy. To say that he’d played with absolutely everybody would be underselling his resume.

“I had to sneak in to see you guys playing The Viper Room, but Truth Knife was one of my favorite bands when we were making ‘Amber’s Adventures,’ and I had to sneak out to make it to the show,” she said as they made their way downstairs to the studio. “I was totally exhausted the next day on set, and my folks were super pissed, but you know, fuck them, I’m a big girl and I get to make my own decisions, especially now that I’m out from under them.”

“One of your favorite bands, but not your absolute favorite?”

“I could lie to you and say yes, but no, my ride or die is Nine Inch Nails,” she said as her band lugged their instruments into the studio downstairs. “I’ve seen Trent live every chance I can. He was one of the other people we sent the demo to, but he’s busy recording a score for the next Pixar film, if you can believe it. So if you weren’t going to produce the record, we were going to have to move on to my third choice, which I wasn’t thrilled with.”

“Who was?”

“The Matrix,” she sighed. “I put them on the list just to make the record label happy, but I didn’t want them to be the one shepherding this record to the finish line, because it needs to really get beneath the skin, you know? And those two are fantastic at making hit singles that get stuck in your head, but they don’t focus on making something that’ll have any legs for long-term masterpieces. And you know how to make a song that’ll slowly burrow its way down to your psyche.”

True to her word, Ashley spent as much time as she could working as a personal assistant to Christy and to Kevin himself, and trying very hard not to fangirl out, even if she did get a selfie of the two of them every day, and a couple of autographs.

Christy was surprisingly down to earth for a giant star to millions and was always willing to take criticism and direction without putting up too much of a fuss. The session players were all troopers, and they established an easy rhythm with both Kevin and Dandy Randy. Kevin was even happy to pick up his guitar and add a lead here or there.

Except for one song that everyone thought had potential but that nobody could see a way through to get to work, a number called “Pocket Supernova,” which had good verses, but a chorus that just didn’t seem to take, all the songs came easily.

On the very last day they had to work on it, Kevin was getting increasingly sure they just weren’t going to get there when Christy sent everyone else home, leaving her and Kevin to try and get it figured out well into the evening.

“Maybe we’re just not going to get there with this one,” Kevin said to her. “I know you had high hopes for it, but sometimes a song just isn’t ready.”

Christy sighed, tying her hair back into a small bun against the back of her head. “It’s right there. I can fucking feel it. It’s just stoppered up. Maybe we should have your assistant Ashley come listen to it.”

“Ashley’s not really my assistant,” Kevin said with a grin.

“Daughter?”

“Uh, most definitely not.”

“Oh. Oh!” Christy laughed. “I thought you were engaged to Fatima. Isn’t that what she introduced herself as a couple of days ago?”

“Oh, I am. But Fatima encourages me to get around a bit and play the field, as long as it’s just physical connection, and that I promise she’s always got my heart,” Kevin said with a little shrug. “But hell, Fatima’s even played with her and I before. Made Ashley squeal in a pitch I’d never even heard before, so maybe my skills aren’t as good as I hope they were.”

“If you’re juggling two women, you can’t be that bad.”

Kevin chuckled a little bit, looking sheepishly off to the side. “It’s, uh, it’s a bit more than that…”

“Well, shit, maybe we can just get past this writer’s block then,” Christy said, as she grabbed her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, exposing a silky black bra she had on beneath it. “Whenever I’m stuck on something, I just clear my cobwebs with an orgasm, and if you’re stuck too, we can do it together. Not a lot of people think sex can just be something transactional and fun, so it’s good to know you’re that way too.”

“I mean, I wasn’t, but I’ve kinda gotten that way this past year.”

Christy reached behind her and unfastened the bra, letting it slip from her breasts, exposing them to his eyes. They were rather small and slight, one of her puffy pink nipples with a silver barbell through it, but considering how slender and thin she was, they were the perfect size for her frame. “So why don’t we just have a quick fuck and see if it clears the mind any?”

“Are… are you sure?”

“It’s just sex, duh, and we’ll both think clearer after we’ve gotten our rocks off. So, open up those pants, mister. You want me on top? On my back? Bent over the couch?”

“What’s your favorite? I’m just the producer,” Kevin said, standing up, peeling off his own shirt. “You’re the artist here.”

She giggled a little bit, shimmying out of her pants and panties. “Bent over the piano, I think. I need to really feel it deep, so just have at it and don’t hold back, okay?”

“You’re sure?”

She placed her elbows on top of the couch’s armrests. “Mmm. Very. Just drill the shit out of me. Pound me like you’re trying to fuck that roadblock loose.”

Kevin had learned to stop arguing with things like these and moved to stand behind her, tucking his pants down enough to fish out his cock, guiding it into place before slamming forward, pounding his cock deep and raw inside of her cunt, delighted to find it already slippery. “Mmmm… somebody’s already wet.”

“It’s the creative process,” she purred before it turned into a filthy groan of pleasure. “I’m always worked up when I’m creating or performing.”

“Hopefully this will clear up the stress.” His hips started smacking against hers quick and fast like she’d asked, plowing into her enough that the couch threatened to skid a little. They were so caught up in the moment that neither of them heard the door to the studio open.

“I thought you might need a break,” Ashley said as she walked into the room. “So I got cof—” She suddenly dropped the tray with three coffees onto the floor, but it seemed like the plastic lids were on tight enough because none of it spilled. “Holy fuck!”

“Oh, the not-assistant is back,” Christy moaned. “C’mere, girl.”

Ashley’s eyes were as wide as possible as she moved over toward the middle of the couch, looking at Christy’s face while Kevin plowed into her. “Um, okay.”

“If you’re not his assistant, Ashley, nnnhhhh… then what the hell are you?”

“I, uh, I don’t know if I should say.”

“It’s okay, Ashley,” Kevin told her.

“I’m, um, I’m his…” Her voice dropped down to almost a quiet whisper. “Fucktoy.”

“What mmmppphhh what was that?” Christy said. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m a fucktoy,” Ashley said, licking her lips. “I’m his fucktoy, as a matter of fuck, er, fact. And I’m the one who convinced him to listen to your demo tape.”

“Are you gggnnnnhhhh jealous that he’s fucking me right now?”

“Nuh uh. It’s… it’s really fucking hot.”

“What nnnggghhh what if he’s not doing it hard enough?”

“Um, you could ask him to do it harder.”

“Or I rrgggnnnn could get you to do it.” Christy grabbed Ashley’s hair in her fist and yanked her over, forcing the blonde to lock lips with her, Ashley squeaking at first but quickly getting caught up in the moment, moaning into the kiss until Christy pulled her back. “Whatever you need to say mmmpphhh to him to get uuunnnhhhhh to get him to fuck me like he wants to fucking break me…”

“I think she wants it harder, Daddy,” Ashley purred at him. “I don’t think you can go too hard at her. She, mmmm, she likes it rough…”

“How rough?” Kevin asked, his hand lifting up before slapping down on Christy’s ass with a loud crack. He rubbed his thumb a little bit against the pop star’s asshole, and instead of shying away from it, she almost squirmed back onto his touch.

“Rough enough,” Christy groaned, “that if you wanna do what you’re nnnggghhh suggesting, you’d better fucking really do it and not just dick around… mmmpphhhh… and you better not just pop off right away….”

“I don’t go off easily,” he said, sliding back before pressing the head of his cock up against her asshole, rubbing his shaft against it to smear some of those juices she’d been dripping onto it along her pucker, getting it good and greasy.

“Good, so get in there, motherfuckerrrrrrr…” She drug out the last syllable, her hand clinging on to Ashley’s hair, keeping the student’s face right next to hers. “God, has he fucked your ass yet?”

“MMmmmhuuunnnhhhh…”

“Felt fucking great, didn’t it?”

“God, it was the second most full I’d ever fucking felt,” Ashley said breathily to her.

“Second most full?”

“Uh huh…”

“What was the most full?”

“Mmmm… I, uh, I let Fatima, uh, kinda, um, fist me?”

“Oh fuck, that sounds fucking hot.”

Kevin began to pump even harder and faster into Christy’s ass, and she dug her heels down, slamming her ass back into him, before both of them began to squeal as ecstasy overwhelmed them, Kevin spilling his seed into Christy’s ass, which set off an orgasm of her own.

A few minutes later, he finally had enough strength to stand fully upright once more and slipped back and away from her, as a smile crossed his lips. “I’ve got a chord progression,” he said confidently.

“And I’ve got lyrics,” Christy giggles. “Let’s get recording.”

And that was how Kevin got his co-writing credit on his first number one charting single, and how Ashley got a special thanks in the liner notes of the album.