The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Dude, it’s not a date,” I insisted to Trevor; struggling to hold up my end of the large stage speaker the two of us were carrying.

“Oh, yeah, you’re just going dancing with a handsome older man you met in an elevator,” Trevor teased. “Totally not a date.”

Rose, Trevor, and I had all come down to the convention center Saturday morning for the Home and Garden Show. Rose was here to network, and Trevor and I were to assist the acts as needed. Right now we were helping Madonica get the stage ready for their set.

“He’s a bit rusty in the dating game; he needs a wingman,” I explained. The man’s name was Connor. After the awkward start in the elevator, he had explained that he was recently divorced (which I already knew thanks to the muse). He had, on a whim, decided that the best way to get over his ex-wife was to throw himself into the dance scene(thanks to the inspiration I had given him). He had a notion that I, as a hip looking young man, knew the dance scene(I’m going to guess because this new power of mine is nothing but trouble). I, in fact, did not know the dance scene(because I had only lived in the city for a grand total of six days). That’s why I was having this embarrassing conversation with Trevor(who did know the dance scene).

“And I never said he was handsome,” I appended. I mean, objectively speaking, you could say he was good looking. I never told Trevor that though.

“You agreed to meet up with a man you met in an elevator.” Trevor turned his head towards Rose. She was having a discussion with Madonica’s lead singer-an athletic looking black woman. The lead was wearing a near perfect replica of Madonna’s costume from the Like a Virgin music video.

“Rose, if a guy asks you out in an elevator, would you go out with him?” Trevor inquired.

“That depends, is it Chris Hemsworth asking me out in the elevator? If not, then, ew, GTFO.”

The lead singer bobbed her head in agreement.

“I rest my case,” Trevor concluded.

I carefully backed up the steps to the stage. I was guiding the speaker, but Trevor was doing most of the work. He handled the weight without much effort while my arms were burning from five minutes of effort.

“We should find a dolly somewhere,” I suggested.

“Or you can start coming to the gym with me and Rose,” Trevor countered. “With your frame and little effort, we can get you cut.”

The band’s bass player directed us where to place the speaker. Once it was down, he began wiring it to the rest of their equipment.

“Anyway,” said Trevor. “You should go to Topaz. It’s tame enough for newbies, mostly a straight crowd, and Rose has booked some live acts there.”

“Will they let me in, I’m not 21?”

Trevor pulled out his phone and used one hand to pull me into a side hug. He held the phone up and as far away from us as he could manage. I smiled for the selfie he took on pure instinct. He entered some commands into his phone. My own chimed in response.

“If Kevin is working the door tonight, show him that, he’ll let you in.”

“And what if Kevin has the night off?”

“I guess your gentleman caller will have to figure something out then, Joe,” Trevor finished.

I don’t know why I was so defensive about meeting up with Conner. I guess from the outside there’s a lot of weird things about it. The muse had recalibrated my internal tolerance to weirdness. What’s playing wingman for a guy fifteen years older than you when you have an elf riding around in your head?

I could just be pissy that Derek ended up ditching me for the weekend. It wasn’t unexpected because of the way he had been noncommittal. He used the lame excuse of being too tired from camp, but I’m pretty sure he made plans with some new friends. I did too. I guess I could be feeling guilty since I was going to text him with a similar lame excuse.

Of course, if that was really the case, why did I go to Trevor instead of Rose for help? Rose and I were swept up in new relationship energy-we had a lot of sex over the week. My bed hadn’t even been slept in yet. The kind of open relationship we agreed to was a novel concept for me. I didn’t know how she would react to me saying I was going to go out clubbing without her. And, only a week after becoming intimate.

It was still early and the convention crowd was sparse. The hall was filled with booths showing off home remodeling and landscaping services. The exhibition garden displays were rather well done and colorful. They filled the hall with the fresh smell of flowers. It’s not something I’d go to voluntarily, but I was enjoying the calming environment nonetheless. The crowd skewed older. Anyone south of forty not working a booth was a rare sight. Hopefully they would appreciate what was up next.

I stood with Rose and the muse as the band did their final sound check. I was excited for this one. I had picked Madonica to be slightly subversive. The other cover band I pulled out of the shoebox of demos was a safer choice. Madonica was not safe. They weren’t what I would call good either. More of a novelty.

“Rose knew every band in there,“ the muse said. “She wanted to know who you’d choose. The box was a test, and you passed.”

The drummer beat his sticks together three times. On queue, The guitar player thrashed some power chords. The venue had mandated a volume level, so it wasn’t played too loud. However the sound was out of place for a garden show. In preparation for this I was watching the crowd instead of the band. Most of the people I could see stopped immediately at the incongruent musical stylings. Then the guitar player softened and the keyboard player picked up with a familiar melody. One that most of the crowd probably recognized.

“I see you on the street and you walk on by,” the lead singer began the first verse.

With that, most of the people who hadn’t picked up on it yet finally recognized the song. Now that the crowd knew it as their music, they returned to their business. The band continued their tribute to Open Your Heart. And they played it with heart, mostly because they didn’t have much technical skill. They loved Madonna and they loved metal, but they were just some locals that liked to jam on the weekends. They weren’t even the only band to do this schtick. I checked Google. But they were having a blast playing for their biggest crowd ever. Even if it was a disinterested bunch of people shopping for energy efficient windows.

“Uh-oh, trouble,” warned the muse. She directed me to look at two women approaching us. It appeared to be a mother and daughter. Plain blouses, long skirts that went to their ankles, no makeup, and both had their blond hair in similar bob cuts. But not a cute bob cut, like the most outdated boring bob cut you can imagine. The mother looked about 40ish and like she was heading to battle. The daugner, about 20, trailed the mother with her hands clasped and her head tilted slightly down.

“Are you responsible for this noise?” the mother shrieked at us.

“I’m sorry ma’am, is there a problem,“ Rose replied in her most diplomatic voice.

“This music is too loud and inappropriate for a family environment.”

Inappropriate? I wonder what she would have thought if the lead was wearing the costume from this song’s music video. Rose made a show of hearing out the woman’s concerns. They were ridiculous, but there was no point getting into a logical argument with someone who takes issue with a song from 1985. Trevor wanted no part of it. He pretended to take a phone call and slinked away.

The muse had taken a keen interest in the daughter.

“You have to see this Joe!” she squealed. She snapped her fingers and time stopped.

Firstly, I noticed the auras of all the Madonica band members fusing over the stage into a tie dyed storm cloud of color. Bolts of light cracked and streaked through the exhibition hall out to the show attendees. The second thing I noticed was the aura of the woman complaining to Rose. More appropriately, her lack of aura. I had seen the dark bands surrounding people’s spirits before. But this woman was all band and no arua. It was like looking over the event horizon of a black hole. Deep, deep within I could barely make out a small shimmering pink light.

The daughter’s band was thick, but not nearly as much as her mother. The aura it was holding back was a magenta inferno. If the normal rules of physics applied here, looking directly at It would have seared out my retinas.

“She’s one in a billion Joe!” the muse exclaimed. “Come here, touch her, see!”

I walked to the girl and placed my hand on her shoulder. I didn’t just hear every song she had ever sang. I heard every song she would ever sing. Not as words or notes, but the raw energy of her music. I was overwhelmed; I could feel tears in my eyes even. I had to step back. .

The girl was pretty too. Up close I could see though all the dressing down. Behind her bangs was a cute face and she had a nice figure hiding under her clothes.

“The mother is a lost cause,” said the muse. “It would take a lifetime to break through her closed mind and self righteousness. This girl will take considerable commitment to open up, but we have to Joe. The world needs to hear this music.”

“Commitment,” I repeated. “I take it, it’s going to take more than one inspiration to get the job done.”

“Yes, there’s many layers you will have to break through. It will take a wise and cunning master.” She winked at me. “Good thing I found one.”

That would be difficult. I didn’t know this girl from eve. What I did know is that having heard her music, I was as committed to doing this as the muse was. Seeing all that potential held back; I finally understood the purpose of this power. I needed to be in this girl’s life to inspire her the many times required. The trouble is figuring out how to do that. I didn’t think I was the kind of guy her mother would let get near her. That kind of guy wore bowties and went to bible camp.

That’s it! I had it! I whispered into her ear, “You need a friend your mom won’t approve of.”

I willed the muse to bring me back, but I forgot to return to my original position. When time started back up, I was standing next to Rose as if I never moved.

“Look here, young lady,’ The mother continued. “I hope I won’t have to talk to your supervisor.” Of course this lady couldn’t even be inspired in her outrage. Rose was biting down on her cheek and flexing her fists into tight little balls. On the clock Rose kept her cool; off the clock Rose would have taken this lady to the tool shed.

I sneaked out of the mother’s line of sight. It wasn’t too hard, she was deep into telling Rose everything wrong with the past 35 years of pop culture. The daughter stood there embarrassed, and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. When she saw that I was approaching her she shriveled up even further.

“Hey, they’re going to be busy for a while, you want to go for a walk?” I said with the most charming smile I could muster. The color in her face changed through three distinct hues. From her normal skin tone, to pale white, then her cheeks turned rosy red.

“N-N-N-Yes?” She was as surprised by her answer as she was that I had started talking to her.

With some body language, I guided her away and down one of the exhibit aisles. Rose saw me leading the girl away and made an inquisitive face. I winked and made a ‘shhh’ expression back at her.

“I’m not supposed to be alone with strange boys.” she said as we passed a booth for a custom kitchen remodeler.

“Then we should introduce ourselves,” I said. “I’m Joe Kemp. I just moved to Indy. I’m working for my aunt this summer, but I’m starting IUPUI in the fall.”

“Oh, I’m May. May O’Brian.” She was still processing. “I’m a sophomore at Taylor, but not really. I’m enrolled in distance learning there.”

“Talyor, that’s the university upstate where they don’t allow dancing right?” I enquired. When I had insisted on going to school in Indiana, my parents had pushed Taylor as a choice. I lost the brochure into our paper shredder.

“Yes, but mother and father didn’t want me so far from home.”

Too sheltered even for Taylor. I didn’t know that was a real category.

“That pretty woman with the short hair my mother was yelling at, is she a friend of yours?”

“That’s Rose. She’s the aunt I’m working for.”

“She seems young to be your aunt.”

“Yeah, my grandparents had her late, and parents had me pretty early. We’ve always been pretty close and she’s always looked out for me.”

“I’m sorry about my mom. She gets carried away like that sometimes.”

“I take it metal covers of mid 80s pop songs aren’t popular at your house,” I commented. I gestured with my head back towards her mother’s continuing lecture to Rose.

“No.” She answered. “We only listen to spiritual music at home. I do sometimes sneak out into the garage and listen to the radio in my father’s car...I really love Taylor Swift.” She covered her mouth with both hands after she said it. “That was a secret, please don’t tell!”

This girl was sheltered. I worried that I was getting her in more trouble than I anticipated with this stunt. I could also empathise with her situation.

“Actually, I kind of understand that. A few years ago my parents got the same way. Luckily I had a friend who I could go to. I could spend a little time each day pretending to live in a normal world.” This last week had flipped the script on normal for me; no need to get into that right now.

I led her into an exhibit space made up to look like a little park. We sat at a bench inside a gazebo.

“The music the band was playing was interesting.” she started. “I’ve heard some rock before, but never with vocals like that.”

“Yeah, they’re kind of doing a symphonic metal thing. Evanescence is like that, but the best bands in that genre are all out of Europe.” I took my phone and earbuds out of my pocket. I offered her one while I put the other in my own ear. I brought up a video on youtube and let it play. We both listened through the opening instrumentals until the lyrics started.

“Her voice is beautiful,” May commented.

“It’s Ghost Love Score by Nightwish.”

“Thankyou for showing that to me,” May said when the song ended. “I really liked it.”

She was blushing. I wasn’t sure if she liked the song, or if she was excited over getting attention from a boy. The muse floated on by with her head resting on both hands. She batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated caricature of May’s expresion.

“She’s too adorable, Joe.” cooed the muse. “The sweet ones are always the most delicious,” she continued; her voice more sultry.

“You’re going to make me feel guilty about this,” I said to the muse.

“May! May!” May’s mother was shouting from somewhere up the vendor row we came down

“Oh, shoot, I have to go!” May said as she got up to leave.

“Wait!” I pleaded; standing up after her. “Can I have your number?”

May looked back and forth trying to spot her mother approaching.

“I don’t have my own phone, sorry.”

“Email?”

“My family shares an account.”

I wondered if she might be an alien instead of sheltered.

“Here,” I said as I handed May one of Rose’s business cards. “It’s my aunt’s office. If you want to talk to me some more, you can reach me there.”

May slipped the card into her pocket. She then dashed off to meet her mother before we could be discovered together.

The Uber dropped me off outside of Topaz at around 9. I was wearing another of the outfits Rose bought me. A red hipster t-shirt that dropped down to my crotch, and a pair of white skinny cut pants. Again, I was amazed by the difference it makes to wear clothes that fit your body type. I don’t know If I could go back to value brands off the rack from Walmart. Which I’ll probably have to. It’s not fair to expect Rose to give me gifts like this all the time.

Earlier, after Madonica finished up their set, I decided it was best to talk to Rose about my plans. If anything, our relationship needed to be completely honest. For real world things at least. Any muse related details I kept to myself-I didn’t have a driving need to be committed.

And when I did talk to her, Rose was cool about it. It never failed, Rose was always there for me. She gave me a kiss, told me to be safe, and that there were supplies in her nightstand drawer if I needed them. I checked; there was a lot of fun stuff in that drawer. I only took a couple of condoms and lube packets. The latter was at the muse’s suggestion.

“Better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it,” the muse interrupted my inner monologue.

“Why do I feel like you have plans for me?” I asked her.

“You don’t have to worry about that Joe,” she said as she floated in front of me; hands clasped behind her back. “I’m far too impulsive to make plans.”

Conner was already holding a place in line. I approached him and said, “Hey.”

“Hi, Joe,” he said back. He offered his hand and I shook it. “Thanks for agreeing to help me out here. It’s been eight years since I’ve gone out without my wife.”

“No problem, Conner.” We stood there in quiet for a second. I wasn’t sure what to say. I guess he wasn’t either. We hadn’t really talked much before. That night in the elevator we only talked for a few minutes before exchanging numbers. Then we texted a bit over the week to get the details arranged. Yeah, Trevor was right to hassle me. This was weird.

“Just chill, Joe,” the muse said to me. “Don’t worry, the guy is completely normal and harmless. You guys will become fast friends; just get him talking.”

“So, before you were married, did you go clubbing a lot?” I asked Connor.

“No, I, ah, never really went to clubs or bars before,” he replied. “Other than my wedding, I’ve never danced in public.”

“I wouldn’t be too nervous about it. Guys have it easy. It’s the girls that want to dance. They just want a guy that’s not too chickenshit to go out onto the floor with them.”

“Then what should I do out there?”

“Keep your elbows out, your chin up, and sway back and forth. The girl will do most of the work.”

“So I guess you’ve been out to places like this a lot?”

“Not exactly, just house parties. Don’t forget; I’m 21 if anyone asks.”

The line advanced us to the bouncer. As expected he was an intimidating looking dude. Over six feet tall and built like he was thrown out the WWE for having too many muscles.

“Kevin?” I asked the guy.

“Who wants to know?” The bouncer leaned over me. There was no doubt he judged me south of drinking age.

I showed him the selfie Tevor took with me that morning.

“Oh, you’re a friend of Trev’s? Why didn’t you say so.” Kevin slapped me on the back with his tennis racket sized hand. “Just stay out of trouble inside, kid, or it’s both our asses. And you wouldn’t want that would you.” That last sentence was not ominous at all.

Connor paid the cover charge for both of us and we went inside. Topaz was a pretty generic club. Strobing lights of varying colors. Dance music played way too loud with way too much bass. And crowded. The place probably wasn’t much to look at with normal lighting, but who would want to do that anyway? I could feel something through my connection to the muse. Not like when she would direct me to do something, more like the frequency of her energy was different..

“What do we do now?” Connor asked me.

Given that my club experience was only theoretically more advanced than Connor’s; I was unsure what the typical move here would be. I did have some atypical moves available to me. Hoping that the muse would catch my meaning, I snapped my fingers.

The club froze, and I found myself standing in the middle of a fireworks display. The auras of the club patrons was a giant jumbled mass of swirling energy. It was more blinding than the strobes and more defening than the music. The muse was aimlessly drifting between the throngs of club goers. She had a dazed expression on her face, and I couldn’t focus on a single emotion coming through our link.

“Parties are the best, Joe,” she murmured. I had no trouble hearing her despite how quietly she spoke. Then again, I don’t think I actually hear her with my ears.

“You look stoned,” I commented.

“There’s so much here-I have to hold it in,” she said.

The lust and hunger I usually felt when in her relm did seem more muted than normal. The other times she’d taken me here had at least led to a hard on. With the amount of raw sexual desire flowing through the club, I could imagine myself helpless and writhing on the floor. As soon as I thought about it, I felt the muse confirm it for me. Our empathetic connection was still working at least. I also knew it wasn’t an unpleasant experience for her. Like standing in front of a warm shower to keep me dry.

Since the muse was busy keeping the club’s energy from incapacitating me, I had to enact my plan all on my own. I wanted to skip all the trial and error of finding somebody for Connor to dance with. I scanned the club for a likely partner. Most people here were completely open. Particularly on the dance floor. I made my way to the people milling around the bar. Here and there, I could see some people with the tell tale bands of doubt and worry.

Sitting at the bar was a cute redhead. She wasn’t a hot club babe. Her looks were more casual and nice. But her curves were sexy as hell. The woman’s posture and face were enough to tell me she wasn’t having much fun. The blackness around her aura was confirmation.

I got close and placed my hand on her shoulder. Even with the muse occupied, I was able to read the redhead’s emotions. She was frustrated. She came to the club with her friend-a typical hot club babe-who ditched her for some douche-bro inside of ten minutes. I could work with this.

“Getting attention from two guys is a good way to show your friend who’s a better woman,” I whispered to her.

I snapped my fingers to bring myself back to the material world. Nothing happened.

“Ahh, muse?” I shouted into the club. I couldn’t see where she had wandered off to.

“Right, right, right, I got you,” she muttered from somewhere on the dance floor.

I was back standing next to Connor.

“Follow me to the bar and order two beers and something girly.” I told him.

“Sure, no problem.”

I retraced my steps back to the redhead. She was right where I left her. She was facing away from the bar watching the dance floor. Presumably at her friend who abandoned her. The floor was too busy for me to trace her sight to exactly which girl it was. She didn’t notice as a leaned against the bar next to her. Conner had to cross to the other side of the woman to flag down the bartender. I waited until the bartender was just about to bring the drinks to Connor.

“Hey!” I shouted over the music at the girl. “My friend just ordered a drink for a girl but she took off with some other guy. Do you want it?” I pointed to the bartender. He was handing two bottles and a colorful concoction in a long stemmed glass to Connor.

“Sure, I guess,” she replied.

I gestured to Connor to hand her the drink. He did so, and handed me one of the beers. Connor checked her out when she looked back towards me. He gave a slight nod.

“I’m Joe, this is my friend Connor,” I introduced ourselves.

“I’m Anna.” Now that she noticed she was flanked by two guys giving her attention, Anna’s mood shifted. She straightened her back and flipped her long red hair behind her shoulders with a flick of the wrist. She also pushed out her chest to show off her respectable cleavage.

“What are you guys here for tonight?” she continued.

I raised my beer and pretended to take a drink. Connor took the hint and started to converse with Anna.

“Drink! Drink IT! Drink! Take a drink!” the muse insisted. She was back. Kneeling on the bar with her face inches in front of mine.

I had not intended to drink any of the beer. It was meant to be an affectation-to look like I belonged at the bar. I didn’t like beer, nor any alcohol I tried. I liked to keep a clear head.

“OK, fine,” I said and took a drink from the bottle. The taste did not change my opinion of beer. “You’re such a bad influence on me.”

“Yummy, thank you, Joe!” The muse stretched out and laid on the bar like a content cat. As much as she could lay on the bar without touching it.

Anna grabbed my hand. Pulling my attention back to the more mundane task of getting my elevator buddy laid.

“We’re gonna dance, c’mon!” she said leading Connor and I towards the dance floor.

We found an empty-ish spot on the floor and began dancing. The crowd kept our movements constrained together. Connor was indeed terrible, but he was putting himself out there. That was the hardest eighty percent of what it took. Not that I was much better. I threw in a few dips and head nods to keep it interesting. Anna, herself, was a middling dancer, not that it mattered much either. I was more than happy seeing her round ass shake in front of me.

The crowd was forcing us tighter into each other. Anna’s soft butt was now grinding against my crotch. Her tits were pushed into Conner as she gyrated within the small space between us. Every so often she would spin around; offering her breasts to me and her ass to Connor.

We danced like this though at least four tracks. I was enjoying myself too much to keep accurate count. The three of us were starting to perspire from the combined body head and exertion.

“Guys, I could use another drink,” she said. It was the first non-physical communication we had since we started dancing.

We made it to the bar sweaty and out of breath. Connor ordered three shots. I was too wound up from dancing to really care, so I downed my shot at the same time as the others. The liquor hit me pretty hard. I coughed a little to get through the burning in my throat.

“What now? You guys want to head back to the dance floor?” Connor asked. He had the excitement of someone who discovered their new favorite thing in the whole world.

“Or, the three of us can get out of her?” countered Anna.

Connor’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He didn’t expect to be this lucky on his first post divoce night out. Of course he didn’t know that he had back up in the form of a muse powered wingman.

“I’d be up for that,” I said.