The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The bus stop was a small oasis of shelter against the morning chill. Lila shifted her weight impatiently, her breath creating tiny clouds in the air. She checked her watch again; the bus was already twenty minutes late. Even the jovial camaraderie on her favorite podcast couldn’t help her feel relaxed.

When the bus finally heaved into view, its arrival was announced by the groan of brakes and the hiss of compressed air. The door swung open, and Lila stepped up, her heels clicking purposely on the metal steps. The driver, a man whose name Lila decided she’d have to learn, greeted her as usual.

“Morning,” he said, his voice carrying the gravelly tones of someone who had spent years behind the wheel.

Lila returned his smile, even though she wasn’t feeling it. Men like to feel appreciated. “Hi, again. Bummer about whatever’s got you running late,” she said, hinting that an explanation would be welcome.

The driver snickered ruefully. “Ambulance got stuck. Worst of both worlds. I’m John, by the way.”

“Lila,” she replied with growing sympathy. “Better luck tomorrow, I suppose.”

She moved down the aisle, hips swaying, calves tight in her new stockings. The bus was nearly empty, but she wanted more flirting practice. She truly was starting to enjoy being feminine. She chose the seat next to a man in a well-tailored suit who was scrolling through social media.

As she sat, the man glanced up, his eyes meeting hers. Lila offered him a warm smile, which he returned with a nod and a slight lift of his eyebrows. She crossed her legs, the slit in her skirt parting to reveal a teasing glimpse of her thigh. The man’s gaze flickered downwards for a split second before he caught himself and returned to his doomscrolling.

Lila leaned towards him, her voice soft and inviting. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but that’s a really nice suit you’re wearing.”

The man turned to face her, a look of surprise and pleasure crossing his features. “Thank you. I’m Michael,” he said, extending his hand. His eyes took in her appearance, from the gloss of her lips to the polish on her fingernails.

“Lila. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Michael,” Lila purred, placing her hand in his. His warm and firm hand was comforting. “I must say, it’s refreshing to see someone who takes such pride in their appearance.”

Michael’s smile broadened, and he clicked off his phone, giving her his full attention. They chatted easily, the conversation flowing as naturally as if they were old friends. Lila laughed at his jokes, her eyes lighting up with genuine amusement. She found herself enjoying the flirtation, the subtle dance of attraction and curiosity.

Lila’s phone buzzed insistently in her purse, a reminder flashing across the screen that made her heart skip a beat. ‘Play time,’ it commanded. She glanced around the bus, at the faces lost in their own morning routines. Lila bit her lip, her mind racing with excuses. She could wait until she reached the office, right? There’s gotta be some kind of grace period, right? She invented the game, so she can change the rules.

But she couldn’t ignore the newly-learned instinct that pulsed through her like a heartbeat: edge, edge, edge. Lila was acutely aware of the risk she was taking, the danger of being caught was upsetting but also thrilling. Then she ed that Jack would be just as disappointed in her if she cheated, and she made up her mind.

“Excuse me,” Lila blurted, “but I have to… go… sit over there.”

Michael pretended this was reasonable, and she found a seat as far from view as possible.

As the bus rumbled along, Lila gave in to the compulsion. Her fingers moved with careful stealth, barely grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves that ached for release. Her mind raced with possibilities as she edged herself, the bus rattling along the street. What should she fantasize about? Michael in the suit? The gruff bus driver? But her thoughts kept returning to Jack, her husband.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured him standing over her, commanding her to do the dishes. His deep voice resonated in her ears as he barked out orders. Lila imagined herself obediently moving to the kitchen, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for the sponge. The mundane task seemed to heighten her arousal, the water running over her skin making her shiver with anticipation.

Next, she pictured Jack telling her to fold the laundry. Lila obediently grabbed a pile of clothes and began folding them neatly, her mind focused solely on pleasing her husband. As she worked, she imagined Jack watching her, his eyes roaming over her body with approval and desire.

A different fantasy surfaced. Lila pictured Jack as a powerful businessman, commanding a room full of people with his presence. She imagined herself as his secretary, eagerly taking notes and fetching him coffee. The idea of being under his control, of serving him in every way, made her pulse race and her core throb with need. “Why is this so sexy?” she silently asked herself. “Clichéd macho nonsense.”

Regardless, her fingers moved faster, the pressure building inside her. She forced a cough to disguise what threatened to be a groan. She was acutely aware of the thin veneer of civility that separated her from the other engers. The knowledge that she was indulging in such an intimate act in a public space was both terrifying and exhilarating.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this, here, on a bus of all places. The fuddy duddy voice in her head screamed at her to stop, to wait until she was alone and safe in the work bathroom, but that voice was a whisper compared to the voice that was belting out, “oh my god, oh my god, fuck yes that feels good.”

The rules of the game were clear. She was not allowed to climax without Jack’s permission, and she needed to edge every hour, for him. For both of them. The thought of Jack, of his approval, sent a jolt of desire through her. She imagined his hands replacing hers, his voice whispering in her ear, telling her what a good girl she was, how well she was following the rules. Submitting.

Fear of being caught burst in her thoughts again. Lila’s eyes darted around the bus, looking for any sign that someone might be observing her clandestine activities. Did the driver see her squirming through his rear-view mirror? The other engers seemed oblivious, lost in their own worlds, but the paranoia clawed at her, threatening to unravel the delicate threads of her control.

What if Michael turned around and caught her touching herself? The thought was both mortifying and strangely arousing, a twisted blend of modesty and exhibitionism.

Make men want me.

She was teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice. Her body was a taut bowstring, vibrating with the need for release. But she held back, denying herself the final leap into oblivion. She would wait for Jack, for his voice, his permission.

“Good dirty girl,” she thought to herself, biting her lip.

The bus slowed, its brakes squealing as it approached the next stop. She withdrew her hand, her heart pounding in her chest. She had managed to maintain her composure, mostly. Her libido would wait, simmering beneath the surface, until the next hourly reminder when she would once again seek out that delicious edge.

As the bus came to a stop, Lila gathered her belongings and made her way towards the front. She paused by the driver’s seat, offering John, the driver, a warm smile. “Thank you, John. Have a wonderful day.”

John returned her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You too, Lila. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time?”

Lila almost agreed, then laughed. “Well, not if it’s the same late time!”

John chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Take care.”

The bus had been late, but she had no urgent appointments, so she made her semi-weekly stop at the newsstand to practice more flirting. Michael in the suit was fun, but he was just one of many men who deserved her playful attention.

“Good morning, Sal,” she greeted, her voice light and friendly.

“Lila! Always a pleasure. What can I get for you today?”

“I’m looking for some inspiration for a new haircut,” she said. Lila picked up a political news magazine, the cover featuring a well-known female senator. “Do you think she’s pretty?” Lila asked, holding the magazine out for Sal to see.

Sal squinted at the cover, his eyes flickering over the senator’s stern expression. “She’s got a certain… stately beauty, yes,” he replied, his tone diplomatic.

Lila nodded, moving on to another magazine. This one was a fashion publication, its cover adorned with a glamorous model in an elaborate gown. “And her?” Lila inquired, her finger tapping the model’s face.

Sal’s eyes lingered on the image, his smile widening. “Ah, now she’s a looker.”

Emboldened by Sal’s reactions, Lila reached for a celebrity gossip magazine. The cover featured a scantily clad actress, known for her scandalous exploits and dramatic love life. “What about this one?”

Sal’s eyebrows raised slightly as he took in the actress’s revealing attire. “Well, she’s certainly got… appeal.”

Lila glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And this one, Sal?” she asked, sliding a pornographic magazine across the counter. The woman on the cover wore nothing but a provocative smile, her bimbo makeup and perfect fake boobs on display for all the world.

For a moment, the older man was speechless. He cleared his throat, his gaze darting from Lila to the magazine and back again. “Oh, uh, uh,” he stammered, clearly taken aback by her boldness. “I… uh… I suppose she’s… um…”

Lila watched Sal’s reaction with a satisfied amusement. She could see the way his hands fumbled with the edges of the magazine. It was clear that he was out of his depth, unsure how to respond to Lila’s unexpected line of questioning.

“It’s alright, Sal,” Lila said, her tone gentle and reassuring. “I was just curious. You know, haircuts can be so diverse. I’m having a … hard time… deciding.”

Sal gulped in spite of himself. “I understand. It’s, uh. I mean. Uh. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say.”

Lila smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s exactly what I think. If only we all had way more eyes! Thank you, Sal.” She paid for the magazines, tucking them neatly into her purse. “See you later!”

Lila was alone in her favorite locked restroom at work. She dug in her purse for the pornographic magazine she had purchased from Sal. The images were explicit, the women posed in various states of undress, but they weren’t merely showing skin, they were positively radiating arousal.

As she looked at them, Lila couldn’t help but wonder about these women. Did they feel empowered by their choices, or were they simply using their bodies as a means to an end? Were they posing, or were they being posed? She imagined them on set, surrounded by bright lights and cameras, being ordered about, no doubt by greasy men with beer bellies. But still men.

Lila’s other hand drifted towards her thigh. She could feel warmth building within her, the familiar ache of desire. As her touch got bolder, Lila couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more to these women’s stories than met the eye. Maybe they were truly in control, or maybe they were simply pawns in a larger game, their bodies commodified for the pleasure of others? Female sexuality can be celebrated or exploited. Which one was this?

She imagined herself as one of the models in the magazine, posing for the camera with the photographers barking orders at her.

“Spread your legs wider, show the camera what you’re working with,” one of them would say, and Lila would comply, feeling a rush of excitement at being so exposed.

“Arch your back more, make those tits pop,” another would command, and Lila would adjust her pose, reveling in the attention and praise.

The photographers’ words became more vulgar, more demanding, but Lila only grew wetter, her fingers now rubbing circles around her clit. She could hear them complimenting her body, calling her a “hot piece of ass.”

“Look at this cunt, so wet and ready,” they would say, and Lila would moan, her hips bucking against the empty air.

Lila’s breaths came faster as she imagined the photographers making a tantalizing proposition. “You’ve done so well, sweetheart. We’re gonna give you a big fat bonus if you do one more thing for us.”

One of the photographers, a gruff man with a thick beard, stepped forward. He held out a wad of cash, the bills crisp and promising. “You just gotta fuck all of us. Every single one. Assistants, interns, the whole damn crew.”

Lila’s pussy clenched at the thought, her fingers finding resistance as they tried to slide deeper in. She could picture the photographers surrounding her, their hands groping and pulling at her skimpy clothes. The assistants and interns were watching with hungry eyes, eager to in.

“You want this money, don’t you, baby girl?” the photographer growled, his voice low and commanding. “You want to be our perfect little fuck toy.”

Lila nodded, her body trembling with need. “Yes,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want it so bad.”

“Which one do you want more?” he asked with a leer, but didn’t wait for an answer. The photographers’ hands were already on her body, tearing away her dignity with reckless abandon. Lila was dripping, her arousal coating her fingers as she touched herself. She could feel anonymous men’s hands groping her, hard and insistent, ready to claim her.

Lila’s fingers worked furiously, plunging deep into her slick heat. She imagined the photographers lining up behind her, their cocks rock hard and demanding. They took turns ramming into her, each one grunting and cursing as they pounded her relentlessly. “Fuck, your cunt is so good,” one of them groaned. “Tighter than any whore I’ve ever had.”

Another man took his place, his cock sliding into her with plenty of natural lubrication. “Your ass is fucking perfect,” he growled, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove into her. “So spankable.”

Lila could only moan and writhe, her body a slave to the pleasure. She imagined their hands all over her, mauling and squeezing every inch of her objectified form. “Look at this body,” one of them said, his fingers twisting her nipple. “She’s built like a fuck doll, made to take cock.”

Her pussy clenched again, her orgasm building alongside the photographers’ imagined compliments. She saw them taking turns using her body, fucking her until she was raw and dripping with their cum.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Lila moaned, her fingers now pumping in and out of her sopping vagina as she pictured herself being used like a sex toy. She could hear the photographers praising her for being such a good little cumslut. She imagined the photographers taking turns covering her face and tits with their thick, creamy loads.

“Fuck, look at this slut,” one of them groaned, his cock pulsing as he painted her face with his seed. “She knows what she’s good for.”

Another photographer followed suit, his cum splattering across her tits. “Perfect dirty girl,” he growled, “born to take dick and swallow our cum.”

Lila could only moan and writhe, her body twitching with pleasure as the photographers used her like a cheap fuck toy. She imagined them taking more pictures then, capturing her in all her debased glory. Her face and tits glistened with their cum, a testament to her complete submission to their desires.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Lila whimpered. She could see the satisfaction in their eyes, the way they looked at her like a piece of meat, ready to be consumed. “I’m a dirty cumslut,” she moaned, her hips bucking against her hand as she chased her pleasure. “Come on me, come on meeeeeee,” and she knew she had to stop.

Lila was so fucking frustrated. Her edging appointment was over, but she was still so goddamn horny. She looked at the models in the magazine, feeling a pang of jealousy. Those sluts got to fuck all day long, and here she was, stuck with an aching va that needed to be filled.

But… Jack. Her husband loved her so much. He was so proud whenever she edged for him, knowing that she was saving her ultimate pleasure for him. Lila groaned, her fingers sliding out of her needy pussy, whimpering at the loss. She wiped them on her panties, increasing the wet spot on the fabric. Lila zipped up her skirt and smoothed down her blouse, trying to look presentable.

Lila stepped out of the bathroom, her legs still shaky from her intense edging session. She walked back to her desk, trying to ignore the internal screams for release. She just needed to keep winning the game. Jack would be so proud of her for being a loyal and obedient wife.