The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A/N: Okay, maybe not the most original title, but heck this was fun to write! Written for a smut exchange with @ellaenchanting—for which she produced this very delightful piece! Ella, thanks for giving me such an excellent laundry list of fetishes to help inspire this story!

Contains: Oral sex (cunnilingus), covert/implied hypnosis/brainwashing
* * *

Oral Skills

It was something about her lips, I thought dazedly as I followed her up her front steps. Something about her lips, the sensuous way they shaped her words, her dark red lipstick that seemed to pull in the light. Her name was Ariel—pronounced the French way, with a tall “ah” at the beginning. Her voice was low and melodious, but it wasn’t her voice that made me shiver when she introduced herself; it was watching her elegant name drop from her elegant lips, and the slight smile that curled there when she caught me staring.

And I was definitely staring. Every time we passed each other at the party and chatted, I found my gaze drawn to her lips. I watched them move, fascinated. Almost more fascinated by them than the conversation, so that it took me a minute to register her question: “Have you ever eaten pussy?”

I had blushed and stammered, but much less than I might have—the question and the embarrassment were real, but seemed a little distant. And when I was watching her lips instead of thinking about the blush flaming in my cheeks, it was easier to answer her questions: no, I hadn’t eaten pussy. I’d always been curious about women in general, but I’d never much liked when my boyfriends had gone down on me, and I figured cunnilingus wasn’t that nice, and so I hadn’t given it much thought.

I didn’t quite know why we were having this conversation, or why I was talking so frankly about my sex life to a complete stranger; but then she smiled, slowly, and I saw as much as heard her say:

“Let me show you.”

And now I was here. Here, in the apartment of a complete stranger, this goddess in a tight black dress and stunning lipstick who for some reason wanted to teach me about eating pussy.

For some reason, I wanted to let her.

“Give me tonight, Christine,” Ariel murmured as she helped me shed my things. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing.” Her cool hands reached under my shirt. I jumped, but let her tug it off me. My bra followed, and then my pants, dear God was this really happening, and then I stood before her, naked except for my panties, defenseless, and impossibly aroused. The way she was looking at me went straight to my cunt. She looked haughty. In control. Hungry.

The first touch of her hand on my bare skin was electric. “Christine,” she said softly, and her voice was thick with lust, “look at me.” Shakily, I met her eyes—and with one finger, she indicated her mouth. “Look at me,” she repeated, and once again I stared, transfixed, at her lips.

God, her lips. It was so easy to stare. It felt familiar by now, comfortable and exciting all at once. “Christine,” I saw her murmur, “I am going to make you feel so good.” A shiver ran through me. “I want you to focus on me. On my touch. On my words. On all the things I can make you feel.”

Her hands were running up and down my body again, along my sides, brushing lightly over my nipples and making my breath catch. I wanted to close my eyes with the pleasure of it, but what I wanted more was to watch her mouth.

I wanted to feel her mouth on mine.

“When I kiss you,” Ariel was saying, “when I lick, and suck, and bite, it’s so easy to be so aware of how good my mouth is making you feel. Pay attention. Focus. Experience that pleasure.”

She brought her face close to mine. So close. Her lips were inches away and I could feel the heat of her. Her hands were still exploring every inch of my skin, leaving a trail of sparks behind them, and I wanted her touch, I wanted her to kiss me, I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life, I couldn’t stop staring at her lips…

“Focus,” she reminded me softly, just once. But I already was. I couldn’t not.

And then her hand was fisted in my hair and she was kissing me, and it felt electric. She yanked my head to one side and ran her tongue along my neck, and I melted into her.

I had no idea how long it lasted. I was lost to time, only aware of her skin and her mouth and my pleasure. I was moaning unabashedly now, too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed. Occasionally, her words bubbled through my consciousness—through my ears or my eyes, I couldn’t tell anymore—but all they did was make me feel even better.

Very gradually, I became aware of a need stronger than the pleasure thrumming through my body. Dimly, I realized that the way she was touching me had changed. She was running her hands ever so lightly along my thighs and belly, feather-light touches that made me squirm, and she was inching closer and closer to my panties. God, I realized, I wanted her to touch me there, I wanted it so badly. I arched towards her hands, but she moved away with a giggle.

“Oh, poor girl,” she cooed, letting her hands dip tantalizingly lower once again. “Does your pussy want attention?” I nodded automatically, and she purred even softer: “Focus on your clit: can you feel it throbbing?”

Fuck, yes, I could, and I moaned low in my throat in response.

She brushed my my panties, maddeningly lightly, and I gasped. “Do you want me to touch you?” She spanked my clit sharply, and I cried out with the sudden pleasure and frustration of it.

“Y-yes,” I gasped. “Please.”

This goddess, this vision before me, dropped to her knees and shimmied my sodden panties down my legs. Eagerly, I stepped out of them, but Ariel was deliberately unhurried, and trailed luxurious kisses all the way up my inner thighs.

She drew herself up to her full kneeling height and looked me straight in the eye. “You are so needy,” she told me softly; “So. Exquisitely. Desperate.”

If it hadn’t been true before, it became true the moment the words left her mouth. “You’ve never needed to be touched this badly before, have you?”

Mutely, I shook my head. A whimper escaped me, and I bucked my hips at the empty air.

“The only stimulation your pussy gets tonight will be from my mouth,” she told me casually, fingertips tracing patterns on my thighs. “No fingers, no toys.” She grinned up at me. A predator’s grin. “I know you don’t like oral much, but if your needy, desperate pussy wants any attention at all...”

She brought her mouth within an inch of my bare cunt. “Beg,” she whispered. “Beg me to lick you.”

I quivered with the nearness of those lips that commanded all of my attention. “Please,” I gasped, “please.” She was right, that was all I wanted, all I could think of was her mouth on my clit and how amazing it would feel. My entire body vibrated with need. “Please lick me, I want your mouth, please, I—”

And then her mouth was on me and I dissolved. I sagged against the wall—when had she backed me up against a wall?—and arched into her, and her expert tongue scattered my thoughts and replaced them with blinding pleasure. Her mouth on me was like nothing I had ever felt before, incomparable to my ex-boyfriend’s lackluster attempts. It was warm and wet and slick and hot, and oh fuck, I never wanted it to stop. “God, fuck, Ariel, God...”

It couldn’t be just her mouth working me, I dimly realized, because I could hear her speaking, too, murmuring softly to me about things I didn’t quite understand. She was alternating her mouth and her hands on my pussy, I realized later, but it all felt slick and wet and incredible. I didn’t know what she was saying to me, those smooth words that snaked their way into my ear, but it doubled and redoubled my pleasure. Feverishly I bucked my hips in time with the rhythm of her tongue—I was close, so close, teetering on the edge...

Abruptly, Ariel stopped and pulled away, and I couldn’t suppress a whimper. My hips twitched, questing for the orgasm that was now beyond me.

Ariel, meanwhile, settled herself on the wine-dark leather couch a few feet away. She slipped off her heels and let her legs spread luxuriously. I watched her, transfixed, as slowly, tantalizingly, she tugged up her dress.

“Do you want that pleasure back?” she purred. I could only nod, desperately. I wanted it, God, I wanted it so badly—and at the same time, there was a new need bubbling within me.

“Christine,” she said silkily, and each word dropped from her lips like liquid sex. “Do you want to taste me?”

I dropped helplessly to my knees before her. I could smell her arousal, it made me dizzy with desire.

Reverently, I lowered my head to her glistening pussy and took a long, slow lick.

Pleasure exploded behind my eyes. How did she possibly taste so good? I wanted to explore every inch of her with my tongue. Feverishly, I went to work, trying to bring her every bit of pleasure I could.

I lost myself in the feeling of licking her. The taste, the sensation of my tongue sliding across her slickness, was incredible. I could feel the pleasure building in her with every passing moment, and somehow, in my own body as well.

Ariel stroked my hair with an unsteady hand and murmured instructions to me—“faster”; “slower”; “harder”; “suck my clit”—and I obeyed without conscious thought. If not for the haze of lust, I might have heard her other words—“obedient” and “brainwashed” and “slave” and “mine”—but my whole world was Ariel’s pussy now. There was nothing I could do, nothing I wanted to do, but pleasure it.

The trembling in her thighs grew more pronounced, and her grip on my hair tightened. I knew she was getting close, because I was too, though my pleasure didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was that she was moaning aloud, gasping “fuck” and “yes” and “don’t stop.” I buried my face in her, licking furiously.

The pleasure built in me. My tongue inside her, my lips around her clit, everything I did to her reverberated through my own body as well. Licking pussy felt incredible; I couldn’t conceive of a time when I hadn’t known that. There was nothing that I wanted more than to lick Ariel’s pussy, to make her come. Making her come would make me come. And when I came, I would...

“Surrender,” said Ariel somewhere above me, her voice trembling and barely controlled. “Make me come, Christine, and come with me, and surrender.”

Yes, I thought, yes, I want that, I want to make you come, I want to...

And then she exploded. Her hand tightened in my hair and her thighs crushed around me as she bucked wildly into my face. Her spasms, her noises, were the most beautiful things I’d ever experienced, and I pressed into her and kept licking for all I was worth, even as my own orgasm rocked through me. As she came against my mouth, I dissolved into her, and some tiny fragment of my brain knew:

I was lost.

I was hers.