The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lindsey sat on the park bench, her mind far away. Tonight, Charles, her husband, would be coming home, and she had to admit she was looking forward to his return. He’d been gone a week, and she was so horny that she would probably be on him before he got past the entry.

The park’s gentle breeze had a strange sweetness to it, like after the rain, but better. It was the kind of aroma that would make her all cuddly and safe in the middle of the night in the worst of storms; safe and aroused, in the arms of her lover and husband.

As she closed her eyes, she could feel his kiss, his hands wandering over her ass and up her body, and moaned quietly, getting wet thinking about the glorious lovemaking that would follow. She couldn’t remember ever being this horny.

The blond, shoulder-length hair that framed her statuesque face blew slightly in the wind, it’s gentle tickle reminding her of the licks and kisses she would soon be receiving. Her breasts, rather small, but sensitive, responded to the thoughts winding their way from her brain into her pussy and clit.

At 32, she was much more than simply a politician’s wife. She was confidant, advisor, friend and lover to one of the most powerful men in congress. She was proud of the life they shared, proud of the work they’d accomplished, and proud of their combined integrity in a town that reveled in debauchery. It made her even more aroused, and she thought that if today were any indication, tonight would be a firestorm of sex.

She opened her eyes to see a woman walk by. Tall, with jet-black hair jelled into spikes barely longer than the tip of one of her fingers, high cheekbones and breasts that jutted out from almost obscenely from her chest, the woman turned to look at Lindsey. Her pierced nose and ear had a small silver chain that ran between them, and her tight, black formfitting shiny leather catsuit glinted in the sun as she faced forward again and walked on.

Lindsey grimaced and thanked God in heaven that she had never felt the need or desire to look like such a harlot. Her thoughts returned to Charles and sex and love, and she dozed off into a peaceful, gentle sleep.

Lindsey sat on the park bench, her mind far away. Tonight, Charles, her husband, would be coming home, and she had to admit she was a little let down by his return. He’d been gone a week, and she was so horny that he was lucky she wasn’t playing around.

The park’s gentle breeze had a strange sweetness to it, like after the rain, but better. It was the kind of aroma that would make her all hot and squirmy in the middle of the night in the worst of storms; hot and aroused, in the arms of her lover.

As she closed her eyes, she could feel his bland kiss, his clumsy hands wandering over her ass and up her body, and sighed sadly in weak anticipation of the typical lovemaking that would follow. She couldn’t remember ever being this dissatisfied.

The blond, shoulder-length hair that framed her statuesque face blew slightly in the wind, it’s gentle tickle reminding her of the licks and kisses she would have preferred. Her breasts, rather small, but sensitive, responded to the thoughts winding their way from her brain into her pussy and clit.

At 32, she was much more than simply a politician’s wife. She was confidant, advisor, and somewhat bored lover to one of the most powerful men in congress. She was proud of the life they shared, proud of the work they’d accomplished, but the lack of recognition, and the thought of being seen as “the little wifey” were starting to piss her off. It made her even less aroused, and she thought that if today were any indication, tonight would be a torture.

She opened her eyes to see a woman walk by. Tall, with jet-black hair jelled into spikes barely longer than the tip of one of her fingers, high cheekbones and breasts that jutted out wonderfully from her chest, the woman turned to look at Lindsey. Lindsey noticed the faint smile at the corners of her mouth and felt an unfamiliar flush of wetness, at least from seeing a woman. Her pierced nose and ear had a small, sexy silver chain that ran between them, and her tight, black formfitting shiny leather catsuit glinted in the sun as she faced forward again and walked on.

Lindsey had never felt the need or desire to look so free and uninhibited, but now she wondered how it would be. Might be a real gas, she thought as she watched the woman recede into the distance. Her thoughts returned to Charles and sex and love, but her mind kept returning to the image of the woman... and she dozed off into a fitful, restless sleep.

Lindsey sat on the park bench, her mind far away, with a troubled look on her face. Tonight, Charles, her husband, would be coming home, and she had to admit that the thought made her a little queasy. He’d been gone barely a week, and she hadn’t had time to search out a lover to quash the horniness that had erupted in her during his absence.

The park’s gentle breeze had a strange sweetness to it, like after the rain, but better. It was the kind of sexy aroma that would make her all hot and randy in the middle of the night, fucking her brains out; hot and insatiable, in the arms of a lover she could not deny.

As she closed her eyes, she could see Charles, groping at her ass and tits, and heaved forward as a wave of nausea broke over her. She was quieted by the thought of her lover’s kiss, feminine hands wandering over her ass and up her body, and sighed quietly in anticipation of the raw, unstoppable passion that would follow. She couldn’t remember ever seeing such starkly contrasting images.

The blond, shoulder-length hair that framed her statuesque face blew slightly in the wind, it’s gentle tickle reminding her of the licks and kisses for which she hungered. Her breasts were in need of some enlargement, but still, her hard nipples were sensitive, responding to the evil, wonderful thoughts winding their way from her brain into her pussy and clit.

At 32, she was much more than simply a politician’s wife. She was confidant and advisor to one of the most powerful men in congress. She was proud of the work they’d accomplished, mostly at her hands, but she couldn’t stop thinking what an asshole Charles was in taking all the glory, as if he had a fucking brain. Typical useless man. The thought of being seen as “the little wifey” was more than revolting, and she felt another powerful wave of nausea overtake her. It made her even more angry, and she thought that if today were any indication, tonight would be payback time for Charles.

She opened her eyes to see a woman walk by. Tall, with jet-black hair jelled into spikes barely longer than the tip of one of her fingers, high cheekbones and breasts that jutted out from her chest as if to invite Lindsey’s pointed tongue, she was a picture of eros. The woman turned to smile at Lindsey. Lindsey nearly came from the sudden arousal that pulsed in her nipples and cunt. Only a woman can please and be pleasing to another woman, thought Lindsey, and she openly panted, squirming on her seat. The woman’s wonderful pierced nose and ear had a small, sexy silver chain that ran between them, and her tight, black formfitting shiny leather catsuit glinted in the sun as she stopped, as if to playfully tease Lindsey.

Lindsey felt the familiar rise of orgasm coming and could not stop it. God, I’m cumming just from looking at this Goddess, was her final thought before she was taken away by the most powerful climax of her entire life.

Lindsey had never felt the need or desire to go with anyone, had never felt like she owed so much, but this was startling and... different. She felt somehow free and uninhibited, and wondered why it had taken so long to get to this place. What a fucking GAS, she thought as she opened her eyes, only to see the woman had gone. She was suddenly stabbed by a real sense of loss, as if there was something she should do. Her thoughts returned to Charles and the nausea she felt at the merest hint of him, but gratefully her mind kept returning to the image of the woman. She finally dozed off into a heavily aroused, fitful sleep, filled with filthy, wonderfully erotic images of herself and The Goddess on the Path.

Lindsey sat on the park bench, her mind far away, with a determined look on her face. Tonight, Charles, her husband, would be coming home, and though the thought made her stomach turn, she was ready for what she needed to do. He’d been gone barely a week, but that had given her plenty of time to make plans in between the endless nights of sex with the Julia, her Goddess.

The park’s gentle breeze had a strange sweetness to it, like after fucking, but better. It was the sexy aroma of Julia’s snatch, the aroma that made her into a total slut in the middle of the night, commanding her to fuck her brains out, whorish and unashamed, in the arms of the lover she could not help but obey.

As she closed her eyes, even the faint image of Charles groping at her ass and tits made her heave forward as a wave of nausea broke over her. She was interrupted by the thought of Julia’s kiss, of her knowing, feminine hands wandering over the ass and body Lindsey had freely surrendered, and moaned loudly as anticipation of unending fucking seeped deeply into the caverns in her brain. She couldn’t remember ever being so in love, so obedient, so satisfied, so fucking turned on.

The blond, shoulder-length hair that framed her statuesque face blew slightly in the wind, it’s gentle tickle reminding her of how much more she loved the stinging caress of her Lover-Goddess’ crop. Her breasts, of a small size soon to be corrected, were feeling the warm spread from her hard, sensitive nipples, causing even more evil, wonderful thoughts to wind their way from her brain into her exposed cunt and clit.

At 32, she was much less a politician’s wife than a slave to her Goddess. Still, hers was the genius behind her husband’s successful, if irrelevant, agenda. She was proud of making someone into a political success, but she couldn’t stop thinking what a waste of time it had been to put such success in the hands of not only a man, but such a boorish, ungrateful worm. As if he had a fucking brain. Typically useless. Worthy of comeuppance. The thought of being seen as his “little wifey” finally snapped in her, and she knew that tonight would be his last. The plan formed almost on its own... and she knew that within a month she would be taking her rightful place in the hallowed halls where Charles had so recently walked. Just the thought of his pitiful, weak name caused another powerful wave of nausea to overtake her. It made her even more angry, and she thought that if today were any indication, tonight’s vengeance on that asshole would be pure pleasure.

She opened her eyes and gasped to see Julia standing before her. Tall, with jet-black hair jelled into spikes barely longer than the tip of one of her fingers, high cheekbones and breasts that jutted out from her chest as if to invite Lindsey’s hungry, drooling tongue, She was a picture of Supremacy. The Goddess smiled down at Her puppet, and Lindsey nearly came from the sudden arousal that pulsed strongly in her nipples and cunt. Only pleasing Julia can bring me pleasure, thought Lindsey, and she openly panted, feeling the wetness dripping from her cunt as she wriggled for her Mistress and Owner. Julia’s pierced nose and ear had a small, sexy silver chain that ran between them, just like the one that now graced Lindsey, and Her tight, black formfitting shiny leather catsuit glinted in the sunlight, silently commanding Julia to kneel and worship.

Lindsey felt the familiar rise of orgasm coming as she fell to her knees, but relief of course, would not come. Just a word, just a word, just a word, silently begged Lindsey, “let me cum for the Goddess...”

“Hello, slut,” said Julia. The sound of her voice was music, was love, was surrender, was everything, and Lindsey came so hard that she could that she fell forward, convulsing on the ground.

As she quivered in glorious aftershocks, Lindsey realized that she had never felt need or desire like this for anyone until she had met Julia at... at... there was a brief flash as she realized she did not remember meeting Her. Her need to obey quickly swept it from her mind however, and she returned obediently to her knees. She felt like she owed Her so much—it was obscenely irresistible and... perfect. She knew she was finally free to be who she truly was, a slut, a whore, a plaything for her Goddess, and was filled with humble gratitude for having been chosen now instead of later.

“Play for me, My precious cunt,” said Julia, with a laugh.

Lindsey opened her legs and pressed her fingers into her soaked pussy, her other hand pressing a finger into her asshole. Remotely, she thought how strange it was to be so openly lewd in a public park, but she no longer cared. There was only Obedience. Pleasure. Lust. Adoration. Love. Surrender.

She came with an abandon that shattered the last of the questions that were locked away deep in her mind, rebuilding in her a fortress of love and devotion to Goddess Julia and unrepentant hatred of her obscene, idiot husband. As she slipped into unconsciousness, her head was filled with purpose and perfect, evil light...

The van pulled over and stopped underneath a tree, about thirty feet from a certain park bench. The doors opened, and two women, in form-fitting caricatures of pinstripe suits led a third, blonde woman to the bench and laid her on the ground in front of it.

Their task completed, they shook silently for a few moments, smiled, got back into the van and rolled away.

As the van turned the corner, out of sight, the woman slowly roused and shook herself awake. Startled, she grabbed her purse and made her way to the main road, intent on finding a taxi.

The house was dark when Charles Thomas arrived. He was dog-tired, but the phone call this morning from his wife had assured him that tonight he wouldn’t be getting much sleep. Not that he minded; as he thought of his beautiful, brilliant wife, his cock stirred from its slumber and sent a shiver through him.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, flicking the light switches. Nothing. Alarmed, he pulled out his cell phone and was just starting to dial the police number reserved for members of Congress, when he heard his wife call, “Don’t worry Charles, I turned off the power. I want tonight to be special.” He snapped the phone closed without a second thought.

“Wait right there, I’ll be down in a sec,” called Lindsey. Charles wondered if it was his imagination, or if she really sounded much more sultry than usual tonight.

He heard footfalls on the steps, and smelled a strange, sweet perfume wafting through the air. He gasped as he saw a strange woman descend, her hair looking to be jet-black and close cropped, in little spikes. He could not tell for sure, but she appeared to be dressed in form-fitting black latex or patent leather, like an apparition of whorish wonder. His cock stretched outward in open revolt.

The filtered light of the street lamps through the front door caused a glint to cross the woman’s face, where there appeared to be a small chain running from her ear down to her nose on the left side of her face. She stepped closer, her heady perfume made his head swim. But as she stepped into the half-light, he nearly fell over from shock.

The woman was Lindsey.

“Welcome home, darling. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”