The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Pit of Misery

Foreword:

This story was written on a special request of one of my long term supporters and thus is quite tailor-made to his fetishes. If you enjoy my stories and wish to drop in or request a story of your own, join my discord.

Chapter 1

The day dragged on for Allen much like every other in recent memory. He sat slouched on his worn-out couch, surrounded by the remnants of what could loosely be called a home. Empty pizza boxes, crumpled fast-food wrappers, and bottles—so many bottles—were strewn across the small apartment like a battlefield of neglect. The faint, sour smell of sweat and decay lingered, but Allen had grown used to it. What was the point of cleaning when no one gave a damn about him anyway?

The sharp knock at the door however, jolted him from his haze.

“Hey! Are you there?” a voice rang out. It was Sakshi.

Allen winced, the irritation boiling in his chest. Sakshi Sharma, the younger of the two sisters who lived next door, had a voice that could pierce steel. She always sounded cheery, but there was a patronizing edge to her tone that grated on Allen’s nerves.

“Your place stinks, you fucking pig!” Sakshi’s voice came again, followed by a muffled laugh. “Seriously, what are you even doing in there? Baking a shit cake?”

Allen clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to reply.

“Don’t bother,” a second voice chimed in, smoother, older, and laced with disdain. Kavya. “He probably doesn’t even realize how bad it is. This whole hallway reeks because of him. Honestly, they should evict him pretty soon.”

Their laughter echoed through the paper-thin walls, followed by the click of heels as Kavya walked off. The sound was unmistakable—it was her signature announcement that she was heading to work, likely in another designer outfit that cost more than Allen’s monthly rent.

Allen peeled himself off the couch and shuffled to the window. Kavya was easy to spot, strutting confidently toward her car in a tight gray pencil skirt that hugged her curvaceous figure, her black heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement. Her long black hair wound up in a sleek bun shimmered in the sunlight, and even from this distance, Allen could see her sharp, almond-shaped eyes behind her stylish sunglasses. She was the picture of success, a woman who exuded control and power.

Sakshi, meanwhile, lingered outside their shared apartment door, phone in hand. She was dressed in casual workout leggings and an oversized hoodie, her wavy brown hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Compared to Kavya, she was less polished but no less attractive, with a petite nose and a playful glint in her deep brown eyes that always seemed to mock him.

Allen turned away from the window, anger bubbling under his skin. The audacity of those women! They had no idea what he was going through, no clue about the void his life had become since his wife had left. And yet they acted like queens, lording over him like he was some kind of lower life form.

As he stood there stewing, something caught his eye—a small package lying just outside his front door. He hadn’t heard anyone drop it off, but then again, he was barely aware of anything these days. Curiosity outweighed his frustration, and he opened the door to retrieve it.

The box was oddly ornate, black with gold filigree along the edges and a peculiar logo stamped in the center: Jester’s Imaginarium Inc. The words shimmered faintly, as if alive.

Allen frowned, turning it over in his hands. No return address, no indication of who might have sent it. He brought it inside and carefully peeled back the tape. Inside, nestled in a bed of black velvet, was a glass bottle. The liquid inside was a deep, swirling green, catching the light in mesmerizing ways. A folded note was tucked beneath it.

Unfolding the note, Allen read the message aloud:

“Congratulations, lucky recipient! You are now the proud owner of our exclusive ‘Null Perfume’. A single spritz is all it takes to melt away inhibitions and unlock the full potential of those around you. Use wisely, as the effects are irreversible. Yours truly, The Jester.”

Allen stared at the bottle, the anger from earlier mingling with something new—curiosity. Melt away inhibitions? Unlock full potential? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel insulted.

But as the sound of Sakshi’s voice floated through the wall once more, his grip on the bottle tightened.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Allen muttered under his breath.

With hesitant steps, Allen crossed the short distance to the door opposite his. Every nerve in his body screamed to turn back. What was he even doing? Barging into his neighbor’s apartment like some lunatic wasn’t exactly part of his usual repertoire. But then he remembered Sakshi’s mocking voice, that irritating laugh that had rung in his ears every now and then for God knows how long. The image of her condescending smile fueled him, and he tightened his grip on the strange bottle in his hand.

Before he could second-guess himself further, Allen knocked. Once. Twice. The sound echoed down the hallway, and his heart raced. A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing Sakshi, still in her hoodie and leggings. Her wavy hair framed her face, loose strands falling across her slightly sweaty forehead. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply, her nose crinkling almost immediately. She waved her hand in front of her face. “Ugh, seriously, Allen? Do you even own deodorant? Or soap, for that matter?”

Allen forced a tight smile, gripping the bottle in his pocket so hard he thought it might shatter. “I came to talk,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Sakshi’s brows furrowed. “Talk? About what? You’re lucky management hasn’t thrown you out yet. If you think I’m going to—”

“An apology,” Allen interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “I think you owe me one.”

“Excuse me?” Sakshi’s voice rose, her tone dripping with disbelief. “You’re joking, right? You stink up the entire hallway, and I’m supposed to apologize? Get fucked.”

Allen stepped closer, his body half blocking the doorway. Sakshi didn’t step back, her chin lifting defiantly, but Allen could see the faint twitch in her jaw—a sign she wasn’t as confident as she seemed. “You don’t even know what I’m going through,” he said through clenched teeth. “Instead of laughing at me, maybe you could show some decency for once.”

Sakshi crossed her arms, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, poor Allen. Life’s so hard for you that you can’t even take out the trash? Boohoo.”

That was it. Allen had had enough. Without another word, he pulled the perfume bottle from his pocket, uncapped it, and sprayed its contents directly into her face. The green mist enveloped her before she could react, and Sakshi stumbled backward, coughing violently.

“What the hell?!” she gasped, rubbing at her face as she staggered into the apartment. “What did you just spray me with?” Her voice was hoarse, her usual confidence replaced with confusion.

Allen followed her inside, shutting the door behind him with a click. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted, holding up the bottle. “It came with some…instructions.”

“Are you insane?” Sakshi demanded, still coughing. “You can’t just go around spraying people with—whatever that is!”

“Maybe,” Allen replied, his voice calm, almost casual now. “But I’ve got a question for you, Sakshi. Are you still bothered by how I smell?”

Sakshi paused mid-cough, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear her thoughts. “What?” she asked, her tone uncertain. “Of course, I am. You smell awful. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Allen nodded, studying her carefully. The instructions had said something about melting inhibitions. “If you’re so bothered,” he said slowly, “would you do something about it?”

“What?” Sakshi blinked again, confusion and irritation mixing on her face. “I… I guess I would,” she said after a moment, her voice lacking the sharp edge it usually carried. “But what does that have to do with—”

“Good,” Allen cut her off, his confidence growing. “Then you should wash my clothes. The ones I’m wearing right now.”

Sakshi’s eyes widened. “What? No! That’s ridiculous. I’m not—”

“Come on,” Allen pressed, his voice soft yet insistent. “You just said you’d do something about it. If it bothers you that much, you should help. Right?”

Sakshi hesitated, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to form a coherent argument but couldn’t quite manage. Her brows knit together, and her hands fidgeted with the helm of her hoodie. “I mean… I guess… but it’s not…” she stammered, her resolve clearly faltering.

Allen took a step closer, lowering his voice. “It’s just a few clothes, Sakshi. You’re right here, and it’s not like you’re busy. Think about how much better the hallway will smell after you’re done. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

Sakshi bit her lip, the conflict plain on her face. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Fine,” she muttered, almost to herself. “I’ll wash your stupid clothes.”

Allen’s lips twitched into a grin as he began unbuttoning his shirt. So, this is how it works, he thought, watching Sakshi’s reaction. She looked mildly horrified but didn’t move to stop him.

“Great,” he said, pulling off his shirt and handing it to her. “Let’s get started.”

Sakshi kept her distance as Allen followed her deeper into the apartment, his bare chest exposed after handing over his shirt. She didn’t look back at him, her posture stiff and shoulders tense. The bottle of perfume was still in his hand, and Allen could see her glancing at it nervously every now and then.

When they reached the small laundry nook tucked into the corner of the kitchen, Sakshi tossed the shirt into the washing machine with more force than necessary. Her movements were sharp, almost defiant, as if trying to reassert her usual confidence.

“There,” she said briskly, dusting her hands as though the act of touching his clothes required cleansing. “Now, I’ll—”

“Wait,” Allen interrupted, his voice cutting through her words like a knife.

Sakshi froze, her hand hovering over the machine’s buttons. She turned to him slowly, a mixture of irritation and caution etched across her face. “What now?”

Allen tilted his head, studying her like he was considering something deeply. “How do you know it’s dirty?”

Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering in her dark eyes. “What are you talking about? It’s your shirt, Allen. It reeks. I don’t need to—”

“Exactly,” Allen said, a sly smile creeping across his lips. He leaned against the wall, twirling the bottle in his hand absentmindedly. “It smells bad, sure. But how will you know if you’ve cleaned it properly?”

“What?” Sakshi asked, her voice rising.

“I mean,” Allen continued, his tone calm, almost conversational, “how will you know if you’ve done a good job unless you compare? A before-and-after sniff test. That’s the only way to be sure, right?”

Sakshi blinked, her lips parting as if to argue, but no words came out. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the machine, and Allen could see her mind racing. “That’s ridiculous,” she finally said, her voice weaker than before.

“Is it?” Allen pressed, his tone taking on an almost casual curiosity. “You already agreed to wash it. And you did say you wanted the hallway to smell better. Doesn’t it make sense to do the job properly?”

Sakshi’s mouth opened again, then closed. Her grip on the machine slackened as she let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine,” she muttered, reaching into the machine to retrieve the shirt. “But this is insane.”

Allen said nothing, watching intently as she held the shirt at arm’s length. Her face twisted in disgust as she slowly brought it closer to her nose. The moment the fabric reached her face, her expression contorted, and she gagged, pulling back as though she’d been struck.

“God, that’s awful!” she exclaimed, coughing into her sleeve.

“See? Now you know,” Allen said with a faint grin.

Sakshi shot him a glare, muttering something under her breath as she tossed the shirt back into the machine. She looked visibly shaken, her movements slightly less steady.

But Allen wasn’t done.

“Alright, next one,” he said, already reaching for the waistband of his pants.

“What?!” Sakshi’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with alarm.

Allen ignored her protests, slipping out of his pants and handing them over. He stood there in his boxers, holding the garment out with an expectant look. “Come on, same process. You agreed, remember?”

Sakshi hesitated, her hands hovering in the air like she was debating whether to take the pants or bolt out of the room. Finally, with a muttered curse, she snatched them from his hands.

Her reluctance was palpable as she lifted the pants to her face. This time, she didn’t even try to hide the grimace that overtook her features. Her body stiffened, her lips pressed tightly together, but she followed through, taking a quick, shallow whiff before recoiling.

“Happy?” she snapped, her voice shaky as she threw the pants into the machine.

“Not yet,” Allen replied, reaching for his socks.

Sakshi’s face paled. “You can’t be serious—”

“Come on,” Allen interrupted, holding up one sock like a trophy. “You’re already halfway there. It’s just a sock.”

Sakshi stared at him, her mouth opening as if to argue, but her words faltered. Her movements were sluggish now, her resistance clearly eroding with each interaction.

Reluctantly she brought the sock close to her face before coughing violently as she fell to her knees. “I can’t, I can’t do this” she said between coughs.

“Oh yes you can!” Allen said as he took his other sock and shoved it into Sakshi’s unsuspecting face.

“NO! NO! N—” Sakshi struggled under Allen’s weight almost as if she was being drugged. He stopped only once Sakshi lay sprawled across the floor, resigned to her fate. In a swift move he threw the sock in.

When the sock hit the machine, Sakshi lay there, visibly lightheaded, her breaths shallow. Allen observed her closely, noting how her defiance had crumbled into a dazed compliance.

“Good job,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying an almost patronizing warmth.

Sakshi didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the washing machine as though trying to steady herself. Allen smiled to himself.

Sakshi tried standing up, her breathing uneven, her body leaning slightly against the washing machine for support. Her glazed eyes stared down at the pile of Allen’s clothes now crammed into the machine, her fingers twitching as if she were grappling with some invisible force. Allen watched her intently, the corners of his lips curling into a sly smile.

“You know,” Allen said, his voice light, almost conversational. “I think you don’t actually hate my smell as much as you claim.”

Sakshi’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing in indignation. “What? That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“Is it?” Allen countered, taking a step closer to her, his shirtless frame looming in the cramped space. “I mean, think about it. If you really hated it that much, you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of smelling so many of my clothes one after the other. Right?”

Sakshi opened her mouth to retort but hesitated, her brow furrowing. “That’s not—”

“Logical?” Allen interrupted, leaning in just enough to make her shift uncomfortably. “Come on, Sakshi. You’re smarter than that. Admit it—some part of you doesn’t mind it as much as you’re pretending to.”

“That’s absurd!” she shot back, though her voice had lost much of its edge.

Allen sighed, shaking his head with mock sympathy. “You don’t have to lie to yourself, Sakshi. Here-let’s see if we can clear this up.”

Before she could react, Allen raised the perfume bottle and sprayed it directly into her face again. The fine mist enveloped her, and Sakshi stumbled back, coughing and waving her hand in front of her face.

“What the hell, Allen!” she sputtered, her voice muffled by her own sleeve.

But the effect was immediate. Her protests grew fainter as her body slackened, her shoulders drooping. Her lips parted slightly, and a dazed, almost vacant look spread across her face. She blinked several times, as though trying to grasp a thought that kept slipping away.

Allen tilted his head, marveling at the transformation. This time, the perfume seemed to hit her harder, like it had amplified its hold on her. Her breathing slowed, and the tension that had defined her moments ago seemed to evaporate entirely.

“I bet you test your own stink before throwing your clothes in the wash, don’t you?” Allen said, his voice slow and deliberate, the words rolling off his tongue like a challenge.

Sakshi blinked at him, her expression flickering with confusion and faint resistance. “I—no, that’s not—”

“Think about it,” Allen pressed, his tone a mixture of insistence and mockery. “If you’re already sniffing mine, it only makes sense you’d do the same with your own. After all, you wouldn’t want to waste water washing something that isn’t really dirty, right?”

Sakshi shook her head weakly, as though trying to dispel the suggestion. But her movements were sluggish, uncoordinated. “No... that’s not...”

“Oh, come on,” Allen said, rolling his eyes. “It’s perfectly normal. Everyone does it. Just admit it—you’ve probably done it a hundred times.”

The silence stretched for a moment, and then, almost imperceptibly, Sakshi’s head dipped in a small nod. Her hands moved mechanically to the hem of her hoodie. Allen’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as she pulled it over her head without another word, revealing smooth skin and a gorgeous pair of lace encased tits beneath.

With robotic precision, Sakshi lifted the hoodie to her face and took a hesitant whiff. Her nose wrinkled, and she let out a soft gag, but there was no resistance in her movements. She tossed the shirt into the washing machine and reached for her slacks, her actions slow but deliberate as she pulled them down and stepped out of them.

Allen’s heart raced as he watched her kick off her slacks and repeat the process, each article of clothing eliciting a brief grimace followed by a vacant smile. She stood in just her undergarments, her face had transformed. The corners of her lips curved upward, forming a wide, derpy grin that seemed completely at odds with her usual sharp demeanor.

Allen grinned, barely able to contain his excitement. So, it works even better than I thought.

Sakshi’s glassy eyes flicked toward him, her smile unwavering as she stood there, awaiting her next instruction. Allen could feel the power shift, the control firmly in his hands now.

“Well,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Looks like we’re making progress.”

Sakshi’s grin widened, her breath steady now, though her eyes remained hazy, almost dreamlike. She stood in her undergarments, her body still, except for the faint rise and fall of her chest. Allen’s heart raced as he stepped closer, the scent of the perfume still lingering faintly in the air, mingling with something more primal—something human.

“You know,” Allen began, his voice low and coaxing, “I think we’ve been making some real progress here. You’re starting to come around, aren’t you?”

Sakshi tilted her head slightly, her expression almost childlike in its simplicity. “Come around?”

“Yes,” Allen said, his smile widening. “You’re not just okay with body odor, Sakshi. You love it. You crave it. Especially mine.”

For a moment, her brows twitched as though she were trying to process the words, to fight against them. But then, her lips parted, and she whispered, “I... love it?”

Allen nodded slowly, his gaze locking with hers. “That’s right. You can’t get enough of it. It’s like nothing else. And you don’t want to be greedy, do you?”

Sakshi shook her head faintly, the motion almost imperceptible.

“Of course not,” Allen continued, his tone taking on a near-reassuring quality. “If you enjoy my scent, then it’s only fair I get to experience yours too. Right?”

Her smile wavered for a split second before it returned, stronger than before. “Yes... that’s fair.”

“Good girl,” Allen said softly, the words almost slipping out instinctively. “Why don’t you make it easier for me, then?”

Without hesitation, Sakshi interlocked her fingers behind her head, her elbows jutting out to the sides as she raised her arms, baring her armpits to him. She stood there in total compliance, her breathing even and steady, her body language radiating a strange sense of pride.

Allen blinked, momentarily stunned by the ease with which she obeyed. He took a step forward, his gaze flicking between her expression—still adorned with that silly, vacant grin—and the exposed skin of her underarms.

“Well,” Allen murmured, leaning in slightly. “Let’s see if it’s as good as I’m hoping.”

His face hovered inches from her, the heat of her body noticeable as he closed the distance. The earthy, musky scent was overwhelming, raw, and unfiltered, filling his senses in a way he hadn’t anticipated. A part of him wanted to recoil, but another, darker part relished the control, the sheer audacity of the moment.

Sakshi let out a soft hum, her eyes half-closing as though basking in some unseen warmth.

“You really are somethin—,” Allen started to say, but the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the charged silence like a blade.

Both of them froze for a moment. Sakshi’s arms remained locked behind her head, but her eyes flicked toward the door with faint curiosity.

“Who’s that?” Allen asked, his tone sharp, though he made no effort to move away from her.

“It must be... Priya,” Sakshi said, her voice carrying a slight dazed edge. “She’s here to visit me.”

Allen arched his brow. “Your friend Priya? You didn’t mention that.”

“I forgot,” Sakshi admitted, her grin faltering slightly. “I can tell her to leave.”

Allen chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no. I think we can work with this.”

Sakshi blinked, confused. “Work with this?”

Allen stepped back slightly, straightening his posture, a smirk spreading across his face. “Here’s what I want you to do…”

To be continued.