The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Brad had sent lots of men to her, in the past few weeks. Nicole hadn’t been too careful about checking that they were really associated with him, either. As soon as one of them gave her the flimsiest pretext of having been vouched for, she immediately accepted their presence, and either went with them wherever they wanted to take her, or invited them with her wherever she was going. Sometimes, if Trent was out, that meant going back home. All of it was incredibly dangerous— but so thrilling that Nicole never wanted it to stop, and didn’t care what she was risking. Any time she had any kind of a hesitation, she just imagined Brad knowing she’d done the thing in question— remembered when he’d praised her as the kind of woman who could be for him, who could be his type. That was usually enough to dispel any reluctance.

And she rarely felt hesitation anymore, anyway.

Today, however, when she stepped out of the house grab both the mail and the newspaper, the man who was waiting there was not another in the long parade of strangers that had been streaming through her life of late.

It was the man himself. It was Brad.

Her heart was immediately drowned in floods of devotion that kept flowing, to get through the rest of her body— it made her unable to speak for a moment, and unable to take any steps further forward.

“Are you going to invite me inside, Nicole?”

Nicole spluttered, at first not getting out any intelligible sounds.

Finally, she got to a “yes, Brad, of course!” And then turned to go back inside having retrieved neither the mail nor the newspaper.

She didn’t mind about that. She was bringing something much more precious back inside with her.

Once they were both through the door, Nicole closed it after them, and indicated the couch in the open front-room for Brad to take a seat on. He did so, and she stayed standing, hovering uncertainly, wanting to do what he expected of her, what he desired of her, but not knowing what that was yet.

He had put one of his arms up, hanging back off of the couch and he was running the pad of his thumb along his fingertips, his fingers curled to get them in position.

Up the line of them, down the line of them, and the expression on his face was contemplative.

“Did you want— or, could I do—?” She hadn’t quite managed to ask, because the manner in which Brad regarded her was so intense she found it a little disconcerting. But she had been thinking of the things she would have liked to offer him— her pussy, her mouth, her ass— anything he asked for— she wished she could be pleasuring him right now, or failing that, wished she could be pleasuring herself, as he watched. She hadn’t fully come out with any of this, but from the look he was giving her, she felt pretty sure he already knew— and if he actually did want any of those things, then he would already have spoken up to tell her so. He was still only looking at her intensely, and like part of his mind was elsewhere, going over and over something.

“I will fuck you today, Nicole. But not until later. All the friends I’ve sent to you— they weren’t enough to satisfy your appetites?”

Nicole burned a little in embarrassment. She did sound ravenous, when he put things in those terms.

“None of them fully satisfied me,” she responded, a little self-consciously. “It was all… good sex… hot to be used… but they… they weren’t you… and I really wanted you. The hottest thing about all of them was knowing you’d sent them to me, that you would know I fucked them just because you said— that you were thinking of me getting used only because you asked me to do it. That was what—”

Brad smiled at hearing this. “You rely on my approval that much?”

Surprised he had ever doubted this, she nodded quickly.

There was a bigger confession to make, and she would make it now.

“I was never even totally sure… if every man that came to find me actually knew you. I thought rumors might have started spreading about me— I thought that maybe you could even have started some— and even thinking that the men coming to me were truly strangers, unconnected to me in every way because they didn’t even have a tenuous link to you— I still fucked them. I still enjoyed it, because I knew you wanted me to— and I knew if you had been spreading rumors, and you heard I was fucking people that even you didn’t know… just because you’d decided to paint me as a slut open for business, and you’d advertised it so well that it got beyond your reach… that you’d be pleased by that.”

Now Brad smiled; in a way that had a slight undertone of menace. “You really would do anything for me. I definitely will be fucking you later. I thought today was probably the day— that you were ready, that it had been long enough, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel anything had confirmed my guess yet. But this does. You’d like to be my slave forever, if you could, wait in my bed, for me to give you away or use you myself, whichever option I wanted more?”

She cringed where she stood, for the pang of arousal this struck in her ran so deep it almost pained her— she could feel herself creaming down her legs, beneath her sleep-shorts.

“That’s what I want,” she breathed.

Brad nodded, as if something had been decided. “Then I will fuck you tonight. I will go to work, and work with your husband— and I’ll ask him if I can come back with him for dinner, and you will be waiting here for us. Trent will have promised me dinner— that will have been my entire pretext for getting over here, but once I’m here, once the two of us are face to face, we aren’t going to it. You won’t have anything ready. We’re going to fuck, in front of your husband, and you’re going to renounce him. He’ll see your betrayal, and he’ll hear you swear him off forever, and pledge yourself to me. And then when I am fully satisfied, I’ll be the one to say when the night is over. And when I leave, you’ll be coming with me— then you’ll never come back here again. Maybe you’ll still be married to Trent in fact— a paper-shackle hanging around him for as long as he wants to keep you like that— but you’ll be with me— and sooner or later he’ll probably start proceedings against you. Trent is a very efficient man. I don’t think he’ll care to keep an unfaithful wife who’s shacking up with one of his employees around as a loose-end.”

This shook her a bit from her devotion. Trent had been something she spent most of her time not thinking about— so there hadn’t been room for any alarm there. She’d just… kept putting him off, pushing him back.

But this made him a real and immediate problem there was no way around. She had to think about it now. About what this meant.

She felt, just then, like she had resurfaced to consciousness in a way she hadn’t done for some time. She didn’t really want this, just to be Brad’s whore for the rest of her life— he’d given her a pretty good picture of what that kind of lifestyle would be like, and it wasn’t how she wanted to live! If she let this happen, it would blow up her marriage and trap her into something she really didn’t want.

“A little resistant right to the last, I see. That’s obvious from the look in your eyes. Well, try to resist me if you can. Today is your last chance. You were so hot and ready to fuck me— even if I took you now, you’d be ready and you’d want it. The only reason it hasn’t happened yet is because I’m saving it. I’ll be fucking you in this room for your husband to see before you know it. And knowing that’s my intention when I come through this door later, I think you’ll be too desperate for fucking to turn me away and save your marriage. So if you’re going to do it, best find a way to pull that off before I get back with your husband.”

He swept out of the room without another word, and closed the door firmly behind him.

Still wearing her flimsy pajamas, Nicole sank down onto the couch in the main open-area of the house; looking around at the familiar decor, she didn’t even see it.

She believed what Brad had told her. She especially believed it, because if he had changed his mind and told her to get on his dick in some fashion, she would have climbed on with no hesitation, despite her flare of resistance. So her only chance of preventing this was acting now— while he wasn’t here, confusing her, wasn’t here, tempting her.

First, she had to… to… her mind seemed to cloud as soon as she even tried to think her way through her problem.

She shook her head to clear it up. She had to…

She sighed, and sat up a little straighter on the couch, putting her hands primly in her lap. This was how she should do it. She should call Trent at work— first— and tell him that, under no circumstances should her bring Brad home today. Then she would have to lie and say something that was not only untrue, but repugnant to her— something that would feel like tearing her heart from her body, disowning the most sacred and intimate part of herself. She was devoted to Brad on a level that went beyond love— she felt for him more strongly than she’d ever felt for her own husband.

But the only way to stop this was to call Trent, forbid him from bringing Brad over, and then tell an egregious lie. Say that she’d hated him fro the first time she’d met him, and though she’d seemed to become more civil to him, she’d only been pretending civility, and she couldn’t stand having him in her house ever again— nor seeing him— so she’d be back to avoiding all his work-affiliated events.

Or maybe she’d have to put more pressure on Trent than even that. Maybe she’d have to try and push him to fire Brad. A hard sell, because she’d been there to hear Trent rave and rave about his ability as a salesman.

That would stop her marriage dissolving today. But what if Brad still found her throughout her day, throughout her routine, even if she was avoiding the most likely places he would be? And what if he still kept sending men to her? How well would she really be able to resist him, especially if she had been missing his company and his attention? Then the marriage dissolution would simply happen at a later date; she’d end up fucking him sometime, because it wasn’t likely he’d just leave her alone— and when she did, Brad would doubtless have a way of making sure Trent found out about it— calling him to wherever they were once they’d already started.

And… she’d have to do as he planned for her to do today— renounce the marriage, pledge herself to Brad eternally. Pledge her to his ownership, eternally. It would just happen later instead of today. And that would mean first having to tear her own chest apart, by lying to say Brad was someone she despised.

She sighed, and shook her head, shifting where she was on the couch so she was sitting farther forward, more on the edge of it, concentrating on the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. She couldn’t afford to let her mind get cloudy again.

This solution that she’d thought of first, it wouldn’t be enough. She needed Trent’s actual help with this— she needed someone other than herself to fend off Brad for her, make sure she wouldn’t see him again, stopping him from reaching her.

She sighed, and dropped her head in her hands, leaning forward from the couch and just barely staying supported on it. This was the only plan that would work: it would feel like axing her own chest apart instead of tearing something out of it, but it was the sole truly viable option.

She would call Trent. She would confess to sleeping with Brad— and maybe even all the other men. But she’d frame it like she was sick, like she needed professional help. A counsellor, a hospitalization something— she’d argue there was something wrong with her inhibitions, something wrong with her brain’s reward centers, that she was out of control, impaired, unable to control her own actions and at her rock bottom, needing someone else to help her fix herself.

Hell, it might even be true. Everything that had happened with Brad certainly fell outside the bounds of normal behavior.

There was a risk, of course, that Trent wouldn’t believe her. That he’d just call her a slut and declare their marriage finished.

But she had a slight amount of trust in her husband. He was a caring man— and if she targeted his sympathy, made this about her lacking ability to control herself, her self-revulsion, self-hatred and remorse— it was more likely that he would help her, stay married to her, and protect her; then they would work through this whole issue. He could keep Brad away from her, if he was aware of what was going on, what the dangers were.

They really might still be able to make it— because Trent could be harsher than her, do what she was unable to— get a restraining order against Brad, maybe, if things went that far… all she had to do was call him, tell him she was in trouble, that she needed his help… and she’d be stopping Brad by doing that too.

She dropped her hands down from where she’d been clutching her face with them. Yes. That was what she was going to do. She was going to get up off this couch, go find her cellphone, and call Trent.

Her hands fell to the cushions beside her legs, and suddenly she was clutching them with all her strength. She would get up… now. Now. Now, she would get up. Now.

She still wasn’t getting up.

This wasn’t healthy. She was so dependent on Brad now she couldn’t even get up to make a phone-call?

Brad… oh, but if she was successful… then she would never see Brad again. She’d never be satisfied in only the way that he could satisfy her— she’d never know pleasure or devotion like she knew through him… she’d have to spend the rest of her life knowing what she was without— that would never get easier. Trent would never compare— she’d never see Brad again. She’d never get fucked or used by him again. She’d never have a complete stranger fucking her again, would never be going through that experience, knowing that Brad was aware of what she was doing, in some removed way, aware of it, and tantalized by it. She’d never live those luxuries of enjoyment again.

That didn’t matter. She had to save her marriage.

She would try counting. One, two, three and up!

One, two, three… she was still sitting there.

She groaned in frustration, fighting the desire to collapse back against the couch cushions, slumped in frustration.

Maybe she could trick herself. She wasn’t going to look for her cellphone. She was just going to change out of her pajamas.

Suddenly, her legs were standing her up. She let out a sigh of relief. She was carefully not thinking about something, as she went up the stairs and into the bedroom. Carefully not thinking about it, and simultaneously relieved that she’d been able to get off the couch. Brad had spoken about her staying on the couch, waiting for them to come home— and she had, after all, been able to get off of the couch.

Once she was standing at the foot of the bed she shared with Trent, she saw the thing that she had been so careful not to think about.

Her cellphone was on the side-table beside the bed.

She sucked in a breath. She wasn’t going to change out of her pajamas— she could admit that much.

She was going to pick up that cellphone, and call Trent.

She tried to take a step forward. Her body didn’t move.

She let out a sound of frustration. And she was frustrated. And probably for the wrong reason. She’d been so turned on the entire time she’d been awake. And Brad hadn’t fucked her. He would fuck her, if she didn’t stop this, ruin his plan.

She had to ruin his plan.

But the whole day went this way: struggling for the phone, shaking from the force of her desperation— and still, she was never, ever able to reach it.

A long, long time later, she heard the downstairs door open. Sometime ago, she had been unable to go on standing, so she had instead resorted to crumpling in a half-seated, half-sprawled position on the ground, curling in on herself, but with the phone in sight at all times.

But when she heard the downstairs door open, it snapped her out of her reverie— she had been perpetually on the point of making the call, but forever unable to actually do it, and now she heard the downstairs door opening, it filled her stomach with the weight of heavy dread. It would be Trent, but not Trent alone.

She would go down and face her fate like an adult.

When Nicole rose, on legs still shaky from her earlier desperation and inability, she was doing something like praying. Please, please let Trent have decided on his own not to allow Brad’s visit tonight. Let Brad not be there— let Trent have turned him away.

But when she got down the stairs, she saw Trent holding the front-door open, saw Brad entering through it; she got to the stairs’ foot just as Trent closed the front-door.

She drew a breath. Okay, one last hope. Before Brad did or said anything. Say to Trent what she would have said if she had actually been able to make the call. Trent, I have a problem. Help me get help. I can’t be responsible for myself— I can’t control my own actions, and most importantly, you have to get this man away from me and keep him away from me forever. Our marriage depends on it!

It was resting right behind her teeth, sitting in her mouth, but Trent spoke first.

“You’re still in your pajamas?” He asked in surprise. “Did you do anything today?”

She felt a bit chided by his incredulity, but she reminded herself she deserved a lot worse than a gentle chiding. They could work through this, if she could just spit out what she wanted to say. But even so, Trent would have a lot of anger to work through— rightful anger— and she’d have to hear him out— he’d probably say much harsher things to her than just this chiding. This was easy to take, compared to what was coming.

But she reminded herself to reframe. He was calling out her useless day. But that was actually an opening for her.

“Yes,” she said, quickly, trying to speak faster than her mind could understand what she was doing, and stop her. “I was trying to call you all day. I was having a hard time making the call. But Trent, I really need to tell you—”

Brad let out a loud sigh. When this distracted her, and she looked to him, she saw his expression did not at all match the noise he’d just sounded. There was lechery in his eyes— and self-satisfied assurance. He fully intended to do what he’d planned on.

Just seeing that truth in his eyes, on his face— knowing what he meant to do to her and do to her life—

It flooded her sleep-shorts with arousal.

She sucked in a breath, trying to regain control of herself. She was— she was actively in the middle of telling Trent the thing that would fix everything, and that would save this.

And then she saw Brad was wearing the ring.

Just seeing it made her crumple inside, as surely as she had crumpled upstairs on the floor when she’d failed to pick up her cellphone. She couldn’t resist him. Didn’t want to. Was ravenous to please him, desperate to give up anything, whatever it would take to prove the truth. She was only his possession. She wanted him to know that, and she wanted Trent to know it too. She’d only been lying to herself. It had been easier to believe she wanted to save her marriage, but she never really had— the deeper truth had been true all along. She wanted this claiming to happen. What she’d really been waiting for all day, whether she’d been on the couch or not, was for Brad to come home and fuck her. And in doing so, claim her.

And now he would.

“Brad,” she whimpered.

“You don’t have to wait any longer, Nicole. Just get up on the couch, and take your shorts off.”

Trent was looking between them in confusion— but Nicole wasn’t looking at Trent. She got her shorts off, making it immediately clear to everyone in the room that she was running a waterfall of arousal between her legs.

And once she was sitting on the couch, she was soaking that waterfall into it.

Brad was quickly taking his pants off— his boxers— Nicole was watching with keen interest for a sighting of his cock, and when she got one, she let out a cry of joy.

“Wait,” Trent said. “What’s happening here?” He asked it stupidly— it should be obvious what was happening, but he seemed completely unable to come to terms with it.

“What’s happening,” Brad said, finally naked, and now standing in front of the couch. He pushed into her waiting, streaming pussy— and Nicole cried out in ecstasy, taking him in fully, as far as he could go. “is that your wife is not a wife anymore. She’s a whore, and she’s my whore. And that’s all she wants to be anymore. Tell him, Nicole.”

He had never ridden her like this, driven into her like this. Giving her thrusts so hard that they hurt, made her entire body shake. It was so debauched and awful, and all she ever had to look forward too ever again, and she loved it.

“It’s true, Trent,” Nicole said, and she forced herself to open her eyes, and meet her husband’s. They were filled with betrayal— with so much pain— it triggered her into an immediate orgasm because it made the depravity of what was happening even starker.

She convulsed, lost to the sensations, but Brad just kept fucking her. Her eyes had rolled up for a second, but after the worst of her orgasm had passed— after it had faded to a wonderful warm throb that just kept going on and on, she forced herself to meet Trent’s eyes again.

“He fucks me better than you ever fucked me. His cock feels better than your cock ever felt. And I’m his slave. I’m his whore, like he said, and when he’s done fucking me here, however many ways he wants to fuck me, in as many different places as he wants to go— I’ll be leaving with him. Then you and I will never see each other again.”

Trent looked so heartbroken it almost made her come again.

“Just like that?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathless from the pounding she was getting. “Just like that.”

If he didn’t believe her then, the truth must have sunk in deeper the longer the fucking went on. Brad just kept using her— making her just about as debased and debauched as possible, she thought. They fucked on the couch, on the floor, against the wall, against the window. He filled her pussy, he filled her ass, he made her clean him off with her tongue, and then he took her pussy again— by the time they both left together, Trent simply said, tonelessly, “Enjoy the choice you’ve made. I won’t be seeing you ever again.”

Brad did take her back to his place that night. And on the way she found she didn’t much care if she was right— if her now, essentially, former husband was right. If she never saw him again— she didn’t care. And what Brad had predicted when he’d told her his plan would probably play out. Trent wouldn’t keep a loose-end like her hanging around his life. And he hadn’t fought for her really, at all, because that was who he was. If she’d tried the tack she thought of, he would have responded to that; she had been right to think that was the only path to saving their marriage.

Because if Trent had believed it was a problem and she was remorseful, and suffering too— he would have gone to the farthest edge of the earth for her.

But since he believed it was just betrayal, and that, worse than that, it was an enjoyed betrayal, she was as good as dead to him. Trent was not a person who forgave wanton betrayal. He’d had business partners, friends even, betray him, historically. And each time, he’d stopped all associations with those people— he’d never spoken to any of them again.

And by allowing things to go the way they had, Nicole had firmly ensconced herself in the category of “traitors” for him. She knew that. And she didn’t care.

When Brad finally stopped the car outside his place, and led the way inside, she was only happy. Happy that Brad owned her completely now. Happy to be starting her life, as his slave.

As the next few weeks past by, those feelings didn’t go away. She woke up, happy and ready to serve. And being kept as the pet warming Brad’s bed was honestly even better than she’d have guessed beforehand. He wasn’t as withholding with her as he had been before. She wanted him, wanted his touch, wanted to give him pleasure— he let her do it, whenever she wanted to. And she wanted to a lot. She was so enamored of him that giving him pleasure felt even better than taking pleasure for herself.

It was morning now— she had woken up first, but Brad wasn’t awake yet himself. That was okay. It was more fun to wake him up.

He didn’t work for Trent anymore, of course. Trent brooked no betrayal— not from his wife, and not from his employee. He’d fired him first. But Brad wasn’t concerned about that, he said. He felt he’d established enough contacts that when he set up his own rival company in Trent’s industry, all those clients would jump ship to him— and with that solid foundation, he could poach more and more of Trent’s business until he’d taken it all; then he could either keep the company or sell it at a profit to a bigger conglomerate. He didn’t know yet. He was really just more interested in driving Trent out of business. He thought it would be a fun challenge, and so that was what he was going to do.

Nicole thought of Brad as so perfect and brilliant in every way that she was sure he’d be able to do it too. She just knew she was lucky to be enslaved to someone as perfect and brilliant as Brad. And her new life was much better than her previous one— no longer did she have to fill her days with wifely chores. When Brad was home, Nicole was attending to him, and otherwise doing as he wanted. But when Brad was out for the day, Nicole still attended to him, and otherwise did as he wanted.

Only this took the form of presenting herself for use to any man he sent to his home, or any man that he sent Nicole out to visit. He’d been right about her— she was whorish, needed a lot of sex. It was particularly delicious to know that she was pleasing him by having so much sex.

And from what she’d heard from Trent’s lawyer, who’d reached out just to open a line of communication, she could expect the divorce papers any day now. All the things in her life were good— so now, as every other day, she could enjoy herself. And this morning, as every other morning, she could do one of her favorite activities.

She pulled the blankets back from Brad, and got down between his legs. She let him out of the boxers that he’d slept in, and lowered her face to his cock. She took his tip into her mouth tentatively, just sucking at it lightly, and then slowly moving down his shaft more, slowly tonguing at him in little licks more and more frequently as she went.

It only took a few minutes before Brad stirred awake— and as soon as he was conscious, he was groaning is satisfaction and approval. That was better than orgasm for her now. She settled in to give him a nice, long blowjob. She was going to make it last. She was going to make it good.

The End