The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Three Cigarettes in an Ashtray

Author’s Note

Blessings upon the king(_wesley) for posting his challenge on the Forum, and making me realize just how much MC potential can be found in an old Patsy Cline number. As always, feedback is love, concrit is how I learn and flames are garbage.

* * *

“Um, excuse me?”

Michael took an instant dislike to Dennis. He didn’t resent the interruption itself: between hearing his polite interjection and looking up to see what the matter was his vital signs remained stable. It was just one of those moments when you look at someone and instantly know he’s not someone you’re ever going to help move house.

“Last thing I want to be is a third wheel, but, well, it’s very crowded in here. Could I…”

Dennis’ entire posture was diffident. He held his cup and saucer on one palm, his laptop on the other, and as he leaned forward in earnest supplication he seemed on the point of falling over. Nevertheless, Michael thought, there was an arrogance about him: he was maintaining the pose as though he knew he would get what he wanted, or so it seemed to Michael. Jane, on the other hand, apparently didn’t see it.

“Oh, yah, sure! Help yourself!”

“Thank you.”

Michael watched Dennis beam in gratitude at his girlfriend and, for a second, Dennis became his worst enemy. As he paid due attention to balance while setting the laptop down, Michael wanted to pick the infernal machine up and hurl it through the nearest window. The ostentatious way he used the bare minimum of available real estate on the table to keep it stable just underscored what an annoying son of a bitch he was, and there was really no need at all for him to take so much care putting his coffee down, now that he had both hands free. The sheer dumb-show of the way he patted what seemed like every one of his pockets, before pulling out his smartphone and a pack of smokes, just added insult to injury, in Michael’s not entirely considered opinion. Dennis sat down.

“Mind if I smoke?”

Michael was still too frustrated to speak, especially since there was no way he could indulge himself by saying “no.” Jane picked up her own half-depleted cigarette, waved it demonstratively and said “be our guest.”

Dennis nodded his thanks and lit up. Presently he smiled.

“There, now I’ll do my best impression of the invisible man.”

Jane returned the smile, politely acknowledging the bon mot, and, as Dennis absorbed himself in his laptop screen she and Michael returned to their conversation.

“So, what was I saying?” Jane began, then, before Michael could recall himself and offer a prompt: “Oh, right, the wedding. It oughta be fun. Suzy’s a real party girl; I never thought she’d be the first one to settle down…”

Dennis tuned the couple out and busied himself typing meaningless words. In a second he’d switch to a browser and occupy the rest of the time with something that was actually entertaining, courtesy of the free wi-fi, but for now there were appearances to keep up.

“That’s a thought,” Michael was saying, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get off work…”

Dennis watched the clock in the corner of the screen turn over another minute. He hadn’t become erect from anticipation since he’d been the teenager who won nearly every science fair, making fine adjustments and installing a small miracle of modern electronics in the neighbor girl’s kaleidoscope. Even now he was a master of his craft, though, there was still a certain frisson about the chase.

“Really,” said Jane “you’d be OK with that?”

“There some reason I shouldn’t be?” Michael replied, smiling.

“No, of course not, but you know what they say about bridesmaids…”

And, five, four, three, two… Oh, well, close enough, Dennis thought as the screen of his phone blossomed into life.

“Oh, cool!” said Jane, as she caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye and looked around to see the colors come to frenetic, zestful life on the screen of the smartphone. Shapes danced in and out of each other’s paths in ways that suggested a pattern, but moved slightly too fast and were slightly too complicated to predict.

Dennis shrugged, letting a slight smile touch his lips: “It’s just a screensaver.”

Michael had another burst of irritation at his condescending answer, but it was muted this time as he, too, found that he couldn’t keep his eyes from the phone’s screen. Dennis sat back, sipped his coffee, and prepared to enjoy the show.

“I just hope Shawn knows what he’s letting himself in for.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well… Let’s just say I was really glad when Suzy got into Kappa Pi. Don’t get me wrong: I love her, she’s great fun, but being her roommate was… exhausting. Like I said, she’s a party girl.”

Dennis took a drag on his cigarette and stared very carefully off into the middle distance.

“For a while there I thought I was gonna get back problems and she was gonna get pregnant. Nearly every night it was the same choice: curl up on the couch or have some frat-rat ask if I want a threesome.”

Jane took a quick sip of coffee that wasn’t quite over before she continued.

“Mm, and the walls were paper thin, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was like Pavlov’s dog, now. Suzy orgasms, unh, unh, unh, I fall asleep. Is it hot in here?”

“Honey!” Michael exclaimed as Jane slipped her jacket off her shoulders and straight onto her chair. In a coffee shop this crowded, he thought, the Meg Ryan routine was a bit much.

“Hmmmm,” Jane just purred indulgently. “Ooh, it is hot in here!”

She began to blouse out her tank top, jerking it back and forth to fan herself. Just like I thought, no bra. Nice, Dennis thought.

Jane gave a laugh that was half giggle, half femme fatale. She arched her back and leaned in, tickling Michael’s temple with her blonde bangs as she whispered in his ear.

“You know, I’m getting really horny. Want me to suck you off under the table?”

Michael was very glad he wasn’t trying to drink coffee at that moment, as he would undoubtedly have spluttered.

“Jane! We’re in public!”

“I know. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

She gave a vampy snicker, and sat back down, her back still arched. She gave a little wriggle that did interesting things to her chest. Michael thought to look at Dennis, but he was apparently concentrating on his laptop again.

“I haven’t!”

“Yeah, right. There’s only one reason a guy with a girlfriend buys a convertible: road head.”

“Jane!” Michael couldn’t help sounding like a broken record. By his judgment, she had to be audible at least two tables away in every direction, never mind Dennis.

“You know what? Just thinking about it is making me wet,” she said. Before Michael could think of something better to say than just “Jane!” again, she’d reached out and grabbed his hand. She brought it to the crotch of her jeans. “See?”

Michael squeaked. This was not a situation he was prepared for. This was not his Jane.

“C’mon, admit it, you just want to pull up at a stop light and give some trucker a bird’s-eye view of you getting a hummer. That’s why you picked a stick-shift, isn’t it? You let in the clutch, I’ll polish your…”


She held his hand firmly captive between her thighs and started to shimmy.

“You know what, forget that. You keep that up, I’m gonna shove you down under the table. Oooh, yeah, right there!”

She’d gotten at least a little bit quieter, now, and Michael thanked his stars that they were in the sort of place where people just stole the odd look and otherwise pretended not to notice. To his immense relief, she released his hand from captivity

“C’mon, let’s do it. We can find a nice quiet stretch of road out in the hills, if you insist.”

“Jane,” Michael whispered, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, fine,” she said with an exaggerated pout, “if you want to be Mr. Boring-pants, you can just take me home and give me a good hard fucking, how about that?”

At that, Dennis spun his laptop around. On the screen was a bigger set of kaleidoscopic patterns, and it was pointed straight at Michael. His face was bleached of all expression in half a second flat, and he just stared. Jane turned to Dennis.

“So, baby, what’s it gonna be?”

“Hey, there’s no reason we can’t do both, right?” Dennis said, getting up from the table. As he pulled the keys to Michael’s Jaguar from his pocket, his eye strayed to the middle of the table.

“Don’t forget this,” he said, picking up Jane’s cigarette. “You’re going to want it later.”

She wrapped her lips around it as suggestively as possible, and Dennis grinned.

“Shall we?”

As they walked out together, a bearded man at the table by the door shot her a hard look.


Jane blew him a kiss. Meanwhile Michael stared at the laptop screen, and a blue plume of smoke rose above it.