The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mind Control On A Saturday Night

By Blueharvest1977

I never found out his name. It disturbs me that after all that happened I never even found out his name. I don’t know where he came from or if I’ll ever see him again.

But the question that unnerves me even more than not knowing his name is how? How did he do it? I think about the things he made me do over a month ago and I can’t explain it.

I scan the dance club looking for him or the two companions he was with that night. It happened here, in Tangos on the corner of 12th and Madison. I can’t help but glance at that corner booth every few minutes. Everyone is looking at me; they all know who I am. They all saw the things he made me do in that booth and I really can’t blame them for not letting it go. I see them point at me and whisper. I see the smug smirks of the men who watched me cum that night. They think because of what I did that I’m easy pray. Now I can’t even enjoy one drink without some swaggering idiot making his move.

“Hi,” came a voice to the left of me. I rolled my eyes continuing to sip my drink through the straw. “We were wondering if you would join us for—“

”I’m waiting for someone,” I said, never once looking at him.

The idiot got the hint and walked away with his tail between his legs. At least this one didn’t persist like the one before him. I’ve been here an hour and that’s the seventh idiot so far.

I try not to, I know everyone is watching me and I know they see me do it, but I can’t help it. I glance at that corner booth again. It’s empty and my eyes fixate on it as my mind drifts back to that night exactly six weeks ago.

I think about how it was pouring down rain that night. Even though Stacy and I ran into the club we still got soaking wet. I wore a silky midnight blue spaghetti strap evening dress that night and the drenched sheer material clung to my body like a second skin. I could have went to the ladies room and somewhat dried off, but I liked the attention I was getting so I didn’t.

Stacy met a guy right off. His name was Mark and to her credit he was cute. I was hitting it off with a guy named Doug myself, so I had no problem when Stacy wanted to leave with Mark. She said they were going to get something to eat, I pretended to believe her.

Jake and I danced and talked for at least two hours. I already knew I would sleep with him after the first hour but I went through the motions, small talk, giggling at his jokes and answering any questions he asked.

Eventually we made it over to a booth, that booth. Jake sat across from me and we talked for another half hour. He pretended to be interested in everything I said, I knew better but kept up my end of the sham.

It was when Jake left to go get us a couple drinks that he approached our table. I think about that first impression. He was cute, not as handsome or rough edged as Jake but he had a confident demeanor that really added to his presence.

“May I join you?” He asked.

“I’m with someone,” I told him.

“Who? That guy over there?” he said gesturing toward the bar.” He smiled an odd smile. It was almost like he knew something I didn’t know.

I watched him walk up to Jake at the bar. Jake was a good six inches taller and for half an instant I expected Jake to knock the cocky bastard’s block off.

Next thing I knew Jake just turned and walked out of the club. He didn’t even look at me!

He walked back over to my table. I stood up with the intention of catching up with Jake to find out what just happened.

“Go ahead and sit back down. He’s not coming back,” he said.

I stood uncertain for a moment, I wanted to follow after Jake. But instead I found myself sitting back down in the booth. At that moment I assumed I sat back down because I decided Jake wasn’t worth the effort. After all, he did just up and leave without a word. Now I think back and I know better.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Sherry,” I told him.

“Do you come here often?”

“Every once in a while,” I replied.

“I’ve been watching you ever since you and your friend came in. I liked watching you dance, it was very sexy. You can tell by the way you move that you know how to fuck.”

I blushed at his boldness and I had to look away. Thanking back I don’t know why I didn’t just get up and walk away right then. Maybe it had already started and I just didn’t know it.

“I’m sorry, did I embarrass you?” he said with what seemed to be genuine concern. “I can be suave, believe me, I can be real suave. But I figure a girl like you knows a lot of suave guys and then I’ll just get lost with the crowd. But How many crude guys do you know?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said trying to make a joke of the situation.

“Let me ask you something, would you rather have an outright, up front conversation with a guy or play around with all that small talk?”

“The small talk can get exhausting,” I answered truthfully.

“Exactly. And if I wanted to be suave I would have to waist—what—two hours on pointless small talk. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very interested in you, Sherry. But I don’t want to know your favorite color or your childhood dogs name,” He leaned forward on the table and his deep green locked onto mine. “I want to know your darkest fantasies, the ones you haven’t told anyone. I want to know your favorite position when you have sex. I want to know how to touch you and make you cum.”

“What?!” I shook my head but I couldn’t pull my gaze away from his. Now that I think about it, at that moment I couldn’t even blink. “I don’t want—“

”Yes you do, Sherry,” he cut me off. “You want to tell me everything. What’s your secret fantasy? The one you keep hidden deep down because you would be too embarrassed to let anyone know.”

I was completely dumbfounded. Of course he was right, I did have a secret fantasy. It’s a scenario that I play out in my mind when I’m alone in my bed. I imagine this escapade and dwell on the details when I touch myself. It was my little secret and I never imagined anyone would ever know. However, as he spoke my secret fantasy ran through my mind. That imaginary situation started to arouse me even with this stranger sitting in the booth across from me.

I wanted to tell him. I was compelled to tell him.

“I-I think about Stacy,” I whispered.

“The girl you were with tonight.”

I nodded.

“And . . .what do you think about?” he asked.

“She comes into my room while I’m sleeping-and-and-ties me up. I wake up and I can’t pull free. Then she touches me, tastes me.” I already said too much. I wanted to stop talking but I couldn’t. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. “And-and there are always people watching.”

“Do they join in?” he asked.

“I-I never get that far.”

“What do you mean, you never get that far?”

“I-I always . . .”

“What?! Tell me,” it was almost a command.

“I always finish before I get that far.” I could feel myself blushing.

“Finish?! You mean when you masturbate?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“How often do you do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe twice a week.”

He nodded like a teacher satisfied with the answer of a student.

“And your favorite position?”

“I like it when a man takes me from behind . . .” I licked my lips taking an instant to work up the nerve to finish the sentence. “so he can touch my clit while he fucks me.”

“Another one?” A voice broke in from my right. I was finally able to break the trance-like gaze and look away. There were two guys standing right beside me. I wondered how long they ware there. Did they hear what I just said?

“Look at her! She’s gorgeous! You would do the same thing if you could,” replied the one across from me. “This is Sherry.” He turned his attention to me. “Scoot over Sherry so my friends can join us.”

The last thing I wanted was to be pinned in a corner booth with these three.

“I think I better call it a night,” I said. However, even as I spoke I moved to my left so one newcomer could sit down by me and the other took a seat by him forcing us all so sit very closely together. I couldn’t get up!

“What the fuck is happening?” I asked looking at him. “What have you done to me?”

“Keep your voice down, Sherry,” he said.

“Have you drugged me?” I asked quietly even though I attempted to yell.

“No, I haven’t drugged you. Just relax.”

I felt every muscle in my body loosen and I fell back in the booth.

The newcomer scooted in close and put his left arm behind my neck.

“Are you chilly, Sherry?” he asked.

“What?! No.” I was taken aback by the unexpected question.

“I was just curious because I can see your hard nipples through your dress. If you aren’t cold, I assume you must be turned on. Does being helpless turn you on?”

I didn’t want to answer. I bit my lip trying to hold back the word and then found myself nodding.

“Show them to me.” he said lowering his gaze to my chest.

“How are you doing this?” I asked as my hands went to the top of my dress. All three men in the booth watched as I pulled the top of my dress down for just a second, just low enough to expose my hardened nipples. I looked around the club and it appeared the incident went unnoticed.

Then I saw my way out. A waitress approached our table.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

I could feel an invisible grip release for an instant and I made my move.

“Can you excuse me? I need to use the rest room.” I said to the guy on my right and I started to squeeze my way out.

“Sit down and be quiet!” He snapped and I fell back in the booth.

The waitress looked at all four of us realizing something wasn’t right.

“Were all fine, move on to the next table,” he said.

The waitress smiled looking a little dazed, “If you need anything else just let me know.” Then she moved on.

He looked at me with an expression of disappointment.

“Nice try Sherry, but we’re not done with you just yet,” He said.

“What are you going to do to me?” I whispered.

“Are you wearing panties?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered. The guy on my far left looked under the table.

“Spread your thighs.”

“Please!” I pleaded as my knees separated on their own accord.

The hand of the guy to my right darted to the inside of my right thigh. I reached down to push the intrusive hand away but He would have none of that. “Keep your hands above the table, Sherry.” Both my hands moved to rest on the table top. Now undaunted, the hand on my thigh squeezed and I felt fingers inching their way up.

I noticed our little party had attracted the attention of not one but three nearby tables.

“There are people watching.” I said.

“Let them watch,” said the guy to my right.

“You want to be fingered, don’t you?” he asked.

I closed my eyes embarrassed by his lewd question. But someplace deep in my mind I was excited by the thought of it and because of that I could not lie to Him. “Yes.” I said wincing. I opened my eyes to meet his gaze. “But please, not like this! Not right here!”

But it was too late. The hand at my thigh moved up under my skirt. I wanted to pull back but I couldn’t move. I felt fingers slide up higher on the inside of my open thigh. The fingers squeezed and caressed my leg dragging out the moment. My pussy clenched and I could feel myself getting wet, real wet. I blushed knowing they would soon find out.

I looked around the club and there were more patrons watching us now. I was certain they had a clear view of the hand beneath my skirt under our table. I fought with everything I had to close my knees but at that moment my body was not my own.

I tried not to react when his finger finally touched me. Nevertheless, my mouth dropped open like a moron and a shuddering gasp escaped when I exhaled. The finger lightly traced the edges of my pussy.

“Think about how you want to be touched.” I heard him say, but I didn’t actually hear him say it. His voice resonated in my mind itself. He was in my head! Was he reading my thoughts?!

I tried not think about what was being done to me, but the situation was utterly overwhelming to my mind and all my sensations.

“How can we make you cum?” Came the ghostly echo in my head.

“Keep doing what you’re doing. It’s driving her crazy.” This time it was his actual voice I heard. He was going to talk the guy touching me through this?!.

“Touched and caressed all over,” came the voice in my head.

Images of my fantasy with Stacy filled my mind. He was using it against me.

My breathing grew rapid and uneven. My chest heaved and everyone watching could see my reactions. There was no way to conceal my reponse. And there were more eyes on me know. It seemed almost everyone in the club was staring me.

And I still could not pull away.

“They are all watching you, just like in your fantasy,” echoed that damnable voice. “What would push you over the edge right now?”

‘No, don’t ask me that!” I cried. I saw the smug smile on his face and I knew he had what he wanted.

“Touch her clit for a few seconds and then go back to what you’re doing now,” he directed. The fingers moved in for the kill, to the very core of my distress and my entire body stiffened. After a few short strokes over my swollen clit a demeaning moan was tickled out of me. Then the fingers went back to lightly tracing over the lips of my pussy.

I panted in frustration. I clawed at the table trying force myself to reach under it but the effort was useless. I felt two fingers gently take hold of my labia and run up and down its length. My entire body quivered with frustration and the three guys around me laughed.

“She’s so fucking wet,” revealed the guy to my right. “I mean, she’s really wet.”

“Touch her clit again, but only for a second.”

The guy to my right followed his advice, however this time I reacted more violently. My head flew back with a low groan and my fist slammed down hard on the table as his finger lightly trifled with me. When the finger moved away I released the deep breath I was holding and my head fell forward on the table.

“Sit back, I want to see your face, he commanded me. I of course immediately sat back in the booth. I fought to bring my breathing under some semblance of control, but the hand between my thighs continued to stroke me making that impossible.

I could feel him browsing around in my mind and I shook my head attempting to jar him loose.

“Get out of my head!” I cried.

“She wants you to finger her, but don’t do it just yet.” His hand moved to my left thigh and squeezed as he continued to speak. “Just keep teasing her.”

“Oh God! What do you want from me?” I asked him.

So many people were watching me now and there was nothing I could do. I contemplated how this obscene escapade would appear to others. After all, my hands were above the table and I wasn’t trying to stop them.

“What else could we do to you?” His voice echoed softly in my mind. My mind was caught up in the sensations and all sorts of perverse images raced through my brain. I didn’t know what horrid thoughts he pulled from me but he was very pleased with himself.

“Perhaps we are being a little too selfish with Sherry.” He turned his attention to his friend seated at our table on my far right. “I’m sure you would like a shot with this one.”

“Fuck yea!” His friend answered enthusiastically. “She’s so hot!”

The guy on my right removed his hand from underneath my dress and my pussy throbbed from his fingers abrupt departure.

He squeezed my left thigh; the guy on my right grasped the other. The two worked together holding my thighs open for the approaching hand, not that I could have closed them to the coming invasion if I tried.

That next moment seemed to take forever. The guy on my far right twisted in the booth so his hand could come around the person between us and reach me. I couldn’t see his hand because it was under the table but I could tell by the way he leaned forward that he was close enough to touch me. The muscles of my pussy contracted and I gasped even before his fingers reached me.

“Say what you’re thinking,” commanded the phantom voice in my head.

At that moment I didn’t even know what I was thinking, but one word slipped from me nonetheless. I said it loudly and it sparked low key conversations from people standing around the table, most of whom moved in even closer to get a better view of the show.

“Hurry!” I said in a voice like a horny angel.

It was that next instant that the fingers finally touched me. I squealed uncontrollably as his hand stoked up and down within the tender cleft of my pussy. Then I nearly screamed when two of his fingers entered me. I wanted to rise up, back away, twist, something, but the only movement I could manage was squirming and that seemed to suite everyone watching just fine.

The fingers started to move in and out and within moments the how of it all didn’t matter. I was swept up by the sensations soon there was nothing for me but need, feeling, and fire.

“Touch your breasts,” echoed the voice in my head and I immediately pinched my nipples through the sheer material of my dress.

Apparently our table was hindering the view of some of the more than eager patrons of the bar. Two of the gawking spectators standing at the edge of the table pulled it aside exposing the sight of what was being done to me to everyone within the club. If that wasn’t enough, the guy to my right raised the bottom of my dress up uncovering the toying hand underneath, and the fingers of that hand fingered me deep.

“Tell us how you want to be touched,” said that demonic voice in my head. The words were so clear it was almost as if someone were speaking directly behind me. “Tell us how to make you cum!”

I struggled with that dreadful newfound compelling urge speak, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of the entire nightclub. However, to my dismay, fighting to remain silent only forced the words out so loudly that even the people standing at the rear of the crowd could hear.

“Touch my clit!” I cried. And He did. “In a circular motion with your thumb!” I directed. “A little harder! Faster! Faster!”

“That’s it! Good girl!” encouraged the voice in my head. “Cum for me!”

The laughter and conversation from my many observers escalated. The humiliation was there but so was the added excitement of the whole situation. I wanted them to watch me, but not because some coaxing force in my mind forced me to want it. The compulsion to climax in the midst of this crowded club was overwhelming. I truly wanted them to watch me cum.

“Kiss me!” I begged. He leaned over and kissed me savagely. I was breathing so hard I felt suffocated by the kiss. But at that moment I would have passed out before pulling away.

I continued to fondle with my breasts while the two guys completely worked over my pussy. Fingering me and stroking over my clit simultaneously, they took me closer and closer to climax and when I reached the point of no return-I felt the grip on my mind release. My entire body was my own again. But it was too late to stop the momentum. I could feel every muscle in my body going taught and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. Through this entire escapade I wanted nothing more than to push their hands off my body, but when my hands were finally my own I reached up around His head with my left hand to press our lips even harder together. My tongue slid into his mouth willingly. My right hand dropped to the wrist of the guy to my right encouraging him to maintain the relentless rhythm of his fingers.

My pussy clenched tight around those fingers.

I couldn’t breathe and had to turn my head to suck in air.

A cold sweat broke out all over my body.

He nibbled low on my neck.

The fingers moved faster, harder, and even deeper refusing to be denied.

My toes curled into fists inside my boots.

I opened my eyes and saw them all watching me. They mused over my expressions and my reactions. Everyone knew I was so close, there was no way in hell I could hide it. I was about to cum hard and they were all on the edge of their seat just waiting for it.

“Cum for me,” He said again, but this time He whispered it in my ear.

And I did, but not because he commanded it. At first I attempted to convince myself it only happened because of his extraordinary influence over my mind. But the truth of that moment was undeniable, my reactions were my own. My body bucked and loud appreciative moans violently ripped from me as I came right there in that booth in a climax the likes of which I have never before experienced. But it wasn’t over. The hands continued fingering me and caressing me and I just kept going. I spasmed and squealed, writhed and wailed, erupted and cried out as orgasm after orgasm rocked not just my mind and body, but my very soul itself.

I heard people laughing and cheering all around me but the noise came to me as if it were through a long tunnel. I was utterly consumed by sensations that literally bombarded me on every level.

I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember leaving this club or even going home. A sane person probably wouldn’t return anywhere near this place. I tell myself I want to know how he did what he did. I tell myself if I ever saw him again I would slap his smug face. But I find myself here looking for him, not just on the weekends but every night.

Could he do it to me again?

Would he do it to me again?

These questions sneak into my mind and I wonder what I really would do if I ever saw him again.

I look to my left and a ruggedly handsome young man maneuvers his way around tables over toward me.

“Excuse me. Can I buy you a drink?” he asked as his eyes worked their way down my body.

“No thanks.” I look back at the empty booth and find myself smiling. “I’m waiting for someone.”