The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

....On the Prowl

Chapter 1—the meeting

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I, Madame Ling, was making my plans for an evening out. Actually I didn’t have any plans that night, but felt very sexual and stalking. I was careful of my outfit, selecting a black slinky cheongsam that moved with my movements. It is slit high on the sides, revealing my long lithe thighs as I walk slowly along, like a tiger on the prowl. I felt like a cat on the prowl, as I put on my perfume, exotic and enticing. My lipstick and makeup were flawless. I think I am ready to make my mark on some unsuspecting soul. Will it be some innocent man (are they ever innocent) or some naive, shy woman that I seek. Time will tell... time will tell. I pack my black hand bag, putting in my compact, my blood red lipstick, my black cigarette holder and my exotic oriental cigarettes that let off an intoxicating aroma for occidentals. I chose the blood red lipstick because it offsets my pale skin so intensely. Interesting that I would pick the word intense to describe this night. Actually it feels more like an intense seduction. Yes, I think it does...... seduction

I exit my jewelry shop and my living quarters above to the dim lights of the alley. Smiling, I remember some unwilling souls wandering down my alley, only to find themselves taken sexually and left to waken wondering what they were doing there and why their clothes were askew.... feeling drained and with dim memories of what took place, smelling a pungent smoke smell in the air.

Walking into the light of the streetlamp, I remember a small quiet little neighborhood bar that just might have some interesting people. I walk slowly, keeping my posture intact, letting my dress slide along my stockings making a swishing sound that draws people’s attention to me. I do so love attention. Although tonight I think I want a quiet place that will afford me the privacy I need to seduce the one I choose. Privacy to whisper my words of seduction and to sense my prey’s will giving in to me. That is the most delicious feeling to watch my prey losing the fight to remain alert and in control. Then the thoughts I have thinking how exactly I am going to say what I am going to use to seduce my prey and mold them to my liking. Oh yes, the molding is such a gentle and subtle art. An art that doesn’t even make itself known or visible to the prey. It is like breathing in the essence of my art and through an act of osmosis making it part of my prey’s conscious and subconscious thoughts. Gently modifying parts of their mind that appeal to me.

Lost in my own thoughts I enter the dark dingy bar. I let the door close, as I let my almond eyes adjust to the dim light, noticing several people turn to look at me. The one person that didn’t look my way was a petite woman sitting at the very end of the bar. I walk over standing two bar stools from her, lighting my cigarette and observing her. The barkeeper comes over, I order a white wine for myself and have him refill her glass. After the drinks come, the woman looks at me smiling... and I say “you seem lonely and in need of some company. May I join you?” “of course, please” I move down slowly, letting your eyes take in my appearance and my smile. I slip onto the stool, next to you crossing my legs, letting the slit open along my thigh. My heel rocking off the end of my foot as I look in your eyes. The jukebox is loud enough to cover some of my words, making you lean closer to hear and to pay closer attention than you normally would. I like you leaning closer to me, it is such a position of submission to me. I place my hand on your arm gently caressing as you lean close, both of us drinking our drinks slowly, talking like two lovers sharing some deep dark secrets. I am learning about you, using gentle probing questions. You are beginning to trust me and confide in me. Occasionally I see your soft eyes meet mine, momentarily causing your attention to be lost, silence descending on our conversation. My scent, my perfume mixed with my natural body aroma filling your senses so completely. Each time you look in my eyes, I see a clouding in your eyes. More and more each time you look.

I consciously add words to your statements, which you end up repeating to me. My words are becoming your thoughts. Your thoughts are becoming my words. You are starting to lean against my shoulder, your glassy eyes looking up into mine. You are becoming oblivious to anything going on in the bar, but what gentle soft probing suggesting words I am saying.

....On the Prowl

Chapter 2—Madame Ling starts to move in

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I notice how your eyes are barely focusing now and your balance on the barstool being facilitated by leaning against me. I circle my fingers around your wrist as we talk, letting my soft fingers stroking the inside of your forearm. Your hand hanging loosely from the wrist I hold securely in my fingers. I am positive that you haven’t heard all my words, but I know you feel each and every one. Feeling all my words.... letting them sink in. Your eyes sinking into mine. Your body sinking heavily against mine. Your mind sinking with my words. I can see how heavy your eyelids are and how heavy your limbs feel. Each breath seems to cause your body to sag and your mind to flush itself of any rational thinking.

“honey, I see there is an empty booth in the back, let’s go sit there so we can talk some more. We need to learn more about each other. I think you can agree to that. I need to learn about each other.” You nod sleepily and mumble something weakly. I slide off my barstool and help you down. You lean weakly against me, looking sleepily in my eyes, a shy smile on your face. I lean in as if expecting a kiss, and you respond as I knew you would, meeting my lips with yours kissing me with an unexpected passion (at least unexpected to you). I slip my arm around your waist and lead you to the booth, helping you slide in next to the wall. I slide in, crowding you into the corner. One of my hands drop to your thigh, sensing your thighs falling open naturally. Your own arms hang loosely at your side, lifeless almost. You are certainly too weak and docile to think anything of my movements. In fact, by now, your mind is a muddled mass of jello being pushed this way and that with my words. Only thoughts of me and your intense arousal remain.

I put my sparkling jade pendant out of the top of my dress, holding it up in front of your eyes. Letting the candles on the table reflect off its brilliant facets into your tired eyes. I twirl the delicate gold chain in my elegant fingers, as your eyes try to focus on the object d’art. “honey I see you have found my pretty pendant so pretty and relentless, haven’t you? (weak nod) “your eyes are so tired and heavy. Too tired to look away. It is just so easy to look at my pretty pendant. Easy to look at my pretty pendant. You love my eyes, and you love my pendant. Your eyes look in my eyes and then go back to my pendant, then to my eyes.... pendant... eyes. You are feeling such a warmth slide over you, caressing you as you appreciate my pendant. ... warm and sleepy” Your glassy stare tells me that you are confusing my words with your thoughts, mixing them together. Your eyelids sliding down to an intoxicating level. Gawd, how I love that look on my subjects. It is that very look that keeps hypnotists excited about our craft and our art.... intoxicating. I keep spinning my pendant, watching you try to see how it spins... how the reflection flashes into your eyes, tiring your eyes even more. I could spend hours spinning this in your eyes, deepening the feelings... the excitement.... yes, the trance. My fingers sliding slowly and rhythmically along your soft thigh as you gaze blankly.

“honey, I am going to take you deeper. That sounds good, doesn’t it? (weaker nod) It feels so good to go deeper looking at my pretty pendant. I bought this pendant just to show you and I am so happy that you find it totally compelling. You are feeling unable to tear your eyes away from the beautifully flashing light. Honey, its so hot watching my pendant. You have been drinking too much tonight, feeling very tipsy on your feet. Your mind is so sluggish, that you just can’t grasp my words, but you are positive that what I say is the most important thing you have heard tonight. Any suggestion I give you sounds like the best idea of all. You are so glad I am here to help you get home. You have been wondering how you will ever get home in your tipsy condition.” I see how weak your head nods. I engage you in some “innocent” conversation about your living situation and romantic interests. I notice how slurred your words are because of my suggestion that you are tipsy. You honestly believe that you could never possibly make it home alone tonight. I have been placing glasses of water before you, watching you drink them and get tipsy. The mind is such a marvelous thing to observe. We talk and talk... well, actually I talk and you respond when I stop for you to respond, slurring your words and looking longingly in my eyes. Over and over I repeat the same thing, only to see confusing in your eyes and another slurred, mumbled response.

“honey, you seem just too tipsy to go home alone. I hate to see you out there trying to get home alone. I don’t want anything bad happening to you tonight, so let me take you home to a nice safe comfortable bed. Would you like that?” I squeeze your leg as you smile sleepily in my eyes, forgetting to answer my question. Leaning closer to you as if expecting a kiss, you lean forward and kiss me opening your lips to my tongue’s explorations. I feel you press your breasts against me, as my hand pushed your skirt higher, caressing you just above your thigh highs.

“honey, I am going to take you home now. It is time to go home with me. You want to go home with me.” You are beyond resisting and you think this sounds like the best idea ever. I settle up our water bill (laughing). Sliding my arm around your waist, I escort the sleepy, tipsy woman outside, Walking you out into the night, the wolf leading the lamb......

....On the Prowl

Chapter 3—questioning .....

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Just before we get outside I notice your eyes looking at mine, searching mine, questioning. Moving your mouth as if something is lodged in your mind, wanting to emerge. Your body pressed against mine, as your lips move without any sound emerging. I can feel the dampness of you pressed against my thigh. Leaning closer, I hear your utterances. “where, where are we going? Where are you taking me?” I hear you whimpering and questioning me without much recourse to the answers. You couldn’t help but rub yourself lewdly against me, moaning as you ask the questions burning in your mind. You needed to know where this leads, where you will be following me, what pleasures await you, what dangers might be there that you need to question me about. Your eyes so soft and innocent, your questions so soft and almost pleading for an answer. Answers that will comfort your mind and relax your nerves. Answers and their accompanying questions. So many things going through your foggy mind, so many questions to ask, so much to consider before going home with me. But then again going home with me brings up more questions. Will I just let you sleep on my sofa or is there more to it than that? If there is something more, you have questions about how much more... as if questioning me how deeply you are getting into something very sexual and controlling. Is it surrender you are questioning me about or is it that you have some needs and desires that may possibly be sated with me this night. Maybe your questions are not where we are going, but rather how deep will it be? How complete, how total will your surrender be? All you can ask is where, but in that one word there is so much to be questioned and asked.

“honey, even asking me questions fuel the fire within. I can see and hear your questions, but the answers don’t really matter because you are already following me. You follow where I lead you, because your mind has surrendered to Cindy. You ask me where, but what you ask is really deeper and more intense than that simple question. My answer is simply that you are going home with me.... because you want to go home with me. Going... home... with... me.” “where......” Even asking the question seems to make you wild with passion. A single questioning word taking your breath away, causing deep arousal in you. The very act of thinking hard enough to formulate a question, be it one word or a hundred is an effort beyond your capability. The effort to ask a one word question drains your mind of all rational thinking. In the absence of rational questioning me there is a void filled by your surrender in even asking where. Where doesn’t really matter to you now, because when you ask the question it evaporates into the mist, the mist of your surrender and sexual needs with me. Surrendering more with each question, asked or unasked. The where you asked has turned in your mind to be asking where I am going to take you. Right here outside the bar or ..... some other place. Its not where you need to ask, but how deeply. How permanently. What demands and needs will surface. How can you ever go back to the woman sitting in the bar, waiting? The one question, where, is just the trickle that begins the flood. You have so many questions that are just burning in the passion of your mind. Your mind can’t even create a question that seems logical. It comes out as mumbled syllables, not making any sense except to you. Asking the next and the next question just ignites you to levels that takes away your breathing and your thinking. Ask away, ask away.....

....On the Prowl

Chapter 4—the finale!!

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You stand there, I can see your mind swirling and your eyes blank with a look of complete submission. Even your body posture belies how submissive and controlled you are. Have you already surrendered your will to me? Is there any question. I slip my arm around your waist, feeling you yield to my movements. I answer the question that you try to form with your quivering lips, “Yes, where, we are going is where we can be alone. I am taking you.... taking you to my home.” Weakly you nod your assent, although none is needed.

We walk out, my arm around your waist, my lips close to your ear whispering in your ear. Your body leaning heavily on mine, a physical display of how much you rely on me to get you ‘safely’ home. You have been listening but aren’t actually hearing my words. Occasionally there is a slight whimper or a gasp or a low guttural groan. Constantly I talk to you as we turn the corner into the alley, going the back way to my shop and upstairs to my home. I remember my warnings to others to be careful about taking this shortcut. “where” escapes your lips followed by an involuntary shudder as your body presses harder against me, as if the question takes away all your strength and will, which it does. “where”

Helping you up my stairs, my hands sliding unknown to you over your body, we arrive at my home. Well I think of it more as a place of conquest, rather than a home. My real home is miles and miles away, on some lonely road far from anyone’s hearing and notice. You lean sleepily against the doorframe as I unlock the door and lead you to the sofa. You slump wearily, with a blank stare as you barely comprehend what is happening. I snuggle up against you, curling my legs under me, letting my cheongsam open and reveal my thighs. One of my hands massage your neck, my lips close to your ear, as my other hand rubbing over your tummy. I can feel your hand on my hip softly caressing my cheongsam, loving the silky texture. I watch you sink with every breath.... every breath taking you deeper and deeper. It is like your hand is fixed to my silky clothing. You couldn’t move it if you wanted and your hips are continually rocking.

Seeing how deep you are your surrender becoming complete, I adjust my posture next to you. I swing one leg over yours, straddling you looking deep into your glassy eyes. Both of your hands hypnotically rubbing over the silkiness of my dress. “your hands are drawn like magnets to my silky oriental dress... drawn like magnets, just as your eyes are drawn into mine... just as your will is escaping with each breath... you have already surrendered your will to me... accepting my invitation to come home with me, has sealed your fate... you are here for pleasure, to give me pleasure and in turn to receive pleasure through the act of making me happy. The is the unspoken pact we have made and will cement those thoughts in your mind as I do this.....” I take out the pendant from the bodice of my dress and softly let it swing to and fro. Left and right... watching your sleepy eyes, laden with a sexual lust follow it. Your hands touch the underside of my breasts as your breathing becomes ragged and your eyes blink trying to stay focused.

“very soon you will be sleeping and dreaming of the pleasure we will have together. You will love all the pleasure that you feel and love the total surrender you have felt. In fact, the word love comes to your mind when you think about me or dream about me. Feeling love and thinking of yourself being a part of ‘us’. No longer are you an individual, but now you are just a part of us.”

I take ahold of your wrist, getting up and pulling you to your feet falling into my arms. Our lips meet in the most passionate of kisses, the probing of our tongues and they way our body press hard against each other. My thigh pressing between yours as you whimper with need in my mouth. You stand there like a statue as I strip you of your clothes, symbolic of me stripping your mind of its will. I take your wrist and lead you to our room and our bed to experience our pleasure.....