The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I just want to make sure I have this straight...you’re the Devil, and you had a deal with Artie Baker that somehow involved this wallet?”

Now, believe me, those words didn’t come out of mouth immediately after I peed my pants. No, tough guy that I am, it took me more than a few moments to recover my steely gaze and hard-boiled exterior.

As it was, “Dr. Mesmer” was gentlemanly about the whole thing. He offered me his bathroom to clean up, and asked if I’d hand out my pants, so they could be cleaned. Or if I’d rather wear them out like that. I accepted his offer, and before I knew it Thelma was in the bathroom with me, waiting for me to take off my pants and underwear so she could take them wherever and get them clean.

After she left, I managed to wipe most of the piss from my crotch and legs, glad that my bladder hadn’t been very full. Even as I was putting the towel I had used in the hamper for used linen, Thelma was back at the door; in her hands were my pants and underwear, clean, with no hint of the ‘accident’ with which they had been soiled. When I went to put the pants back on, I even had to remove the customary safety pin and the tag that was attached to it.

I had to admit, the Devilish Dry Cleaning Service did really good work.

Now I was sitting in an armchair directly across from, if it was true, the Fallen Angel himself. Having a single-malt Scotch. While Thelma rubbed my back and neck.

If I had ever had reason to believe I was losing my mind, that particular scene would have cinched it.

So, with nothing to lose, I asked the first question that came to mind...about Baker’s wallet.

“Yes, the wallet. Sam...I hope you don’t mind if I call you Sam?...I did indeed have a deal with Artie regarding this artifact. And, anticipating your next question, it does involve claiming his soul at some point in the near future.”

“How soon?”

“Oh, about 20 years, give or take a month.”

“Why so long?”

“Because he still has to pay his penance for breaking our contract.”

I mulled that over in my head. First, Artie was going to pay for 20 years. Then, the Devil was going to take his soul. Talk about your penalties for early termination!

“So what’s the deal with this place? Why set yourself up as a second-rate hypno-magician-whatever in a dead-end saloon at the edge of nowhere?”

Surprisingly, “Dr. Mesmer” sighed when Sam asked that question. “Life isn’t like the movies, Sam. I don’t have some infinite power to monitor every person on the planet. But I can and do have the ability to attract people that really want to make a deal with me to a specific place, at a specific time. Such as this place. Such as tonight.”

As I said before, there are two kinds of detectives, the quick and the dead. And I ain’t dead, yet. “So I’m here because....”

“Because you want to make a deal with me, Sam. As do all those out in the bar tonight.”

“Now close your mouth and start thinking about why it is you came here tonight.”

I realized that my mouth was hanging open a bit, as the realization hit me that I hadn’t just followed the trail of a missing wallet...I’d been sucked into some mythic-cosmic-theologic-wish fulfillment nightmare. Starring Yours Truly as the King of Bad Luck, two hot babes, and a man who may or may not be Lucifer himself. Gee, and I left my camera at home!

Shaking my head slowly from side-to-side, I tried to puzzle out exactly when my sanity train had left its tracks. That’s when I noticed that Thelma was on the floor near the door, licking the floor. At the spot where I pissed my pants.

“Why is she doing that?” I asked, pointing at Thelma.

The Devil just grinned, baring his fangs. “You’re here on a very special night for Thelma. She gets to leave my service tonight, after serving drinks to those needing my services for nearly 200 years. You see, she too broke a deal with me, but she was a smart girl—she had an option written into her contract, thanks in part to a smart New England lawyer.” Sam heard The Devil mutter something about “that damned interfering Daniel Webster.”

“At any rate, it specified that, should the deal be broken, she would spend 200 years in service to me, and, on the night of the 200th year, she could leave to live out the rest of her natural life.” The Devil paused and smiled again.

“But, while she doesn’t lose her soul, she also doesn’t quite break free of our agreement. You see, there was one special clause that Thelma failed to read, way back in the back of the contract. ‘Should the party of the first part, in this case Thelma, decided to leave the service of the party of the second part, that would be me, then the party of the second part reserves the right to assign a ‘control supervisor’ to assure that she would be cared for in whatever way he or she saw fit.’ In other words, my boy...I’m giving Thelma to you.”

“B...b...but....”

“Come, come, Sam...you’re alone in life, you don’t even have a secretary, and Thelma hasn’t left this place in 200 years. She needs someone to keep her in check while she’s learning all the ropes.” Lucifer lowered his voice conspiratorially. “And besides...she gives great head.” He turned to Thelma. “Show him!”

At that, Thelma brought her head from the floor and looked at me like a hungry cat who just spotted cream. She undulated across the floor on her knees, wiggling her ass in an attempt to make her crawling even more sexy. In no time, she was between my legs, pulling down the zipper on my pants with her teeth. As she slowly drew my cock out of my shorts and began running her long red nails over its length, she whispered, “We’re going to have such fun, you and I. I’ll do anything you want, anything at all.”

Lucifer walked over and sat on the couch beside me. “I had her lick up your piss because it bonded her to you. Now, she’ll always be at your beck and call, ready and willing, for the rest of your natural life. And that’s just my special gift to you. You still haven’t told me what you want...what I can give you.”

At this point, I was barely aware of his own name. As Thelma’s lips slid up and down on my cock, she was using her hands, her nails, her tongue in ways that I never even knew existed. In short order, she had me right on the edge of cumming, and held me there, not letting me go.

“It’s the moment of truth, Sam. Time to make your deal with the Devil. What can I do in return for you soul?”

As I trembled in ecstasy and agony, Thelma looked up sweetly from between my legs and whispered, “I’m so looking forward to servicing the best private dick in the world.”

Words tumbled from my mouth in no order, but something in what I said apparently interested Lucifer greatly. He wrote it down, and asked me twice if I was sure that was what I wanted. I nodded, bobbing my head furiously. “Yes, yes, ANYTHING, just let me cum!”

“So be it.” And with that, my balls released and I flooded Thelma’s mouth with my cum.

It would be the last time that happened for quite a while.

This is where you came in....

“Ohhhhhh yesssss...right there Sam! Oh yeah, baby! Keep doing it just like that!”

Just like any business deal, it always seems the Devil is in the details. And its not what you mean, its what you say.

“Ohhhh Godddddd....the things you do with that tongue...aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!”

When Thelma looked up at me and said “the best private dick in the world,” it stuck in my mind, and I thought, that’s what I want to be...that’s what I want from the devil.

“Keep it up, baby, just a little more...I’m soooo close....”

But what came out of my mouth was “Thelma’s...private...dick....”

“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhitt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Oh, I’ll give it to the Devil, he tried to give me an out, to realize what I was saying.

“Pleasssssssssssse......ppppplllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssseee!!!!!”

But needing to cum so badly, I just nodded my head, willing to go with whatever I had said just to able to release.

“Cccccccuuuuuummmmmmminnnnnnggggggggggg!!!!”

If it’s any consolation, it was the best cum of my life.

So, now, on most days, you’ll find me between Thelma’s legs, fucking or sucking to her endless content.

And, in between, I’m fulfilling my contract, as I continue to be Thelma’s private dick, and a very dedicated one at that. She rents me out to interested parties...women and men...for $250 an hour, plus expenses. But hey, it beats shadowing cheating husbands and chasing down skip traces, like I used to do. And it pays a lot better, too. At least, I think so, since Thelma now has a very nice house and a limo.

And, if I’m really, really good, once in a while, Mistress will let me cum...in my hand...after jerking myself off.

Am I imagining things, or is that the Devil smiling up at me?