The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was the smell of wet pussy that awakened me. There were a couple of seconds between sleep and wakefulness where I might have believed that I’d somehow been absorbed into a woman’s vagina…

Then I ed where I was, in Gina Delucca’s apartment. Her pussy-scent was so pungent that I assumed she must have positioned her cunt right in front of my face, waiting for me to open my eyes and eat her out.

I opened my eyes, and no—I was looking up at the ceiling of her bedroom in the dark, and she was breathing heavily beside me, exactly as before. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, and understood that it was the air all around us that was so saturated with sex.

There was a little bit of amber light coming in through the curtained windows, enough to make out Gina’s prone form on the bed, with an unholy amount of semi-dried semen all over her tits and neck. Almost on autopilot, I got up and exited the bedroom, finding her kitchen for a glass of water. I made my way down a hallway to the bathroom after that, where I peed and sat on the toilet, just collecting my wits.

It was two-thirty in the morning and I wasn’t done with Gina for the night; we needed to have our talk where she became my receptionist and secretary. Also, my in-house fuck-puppet.

I decided to take a shower, and that helped to clear away some cobwebs. Afterwards, with my hair still damp, I padded naked from room to room, getting a picture of Gina’s life from the environment she had created as her home.

One small room, like what would probably be an office space for most, was nothing but exercise equipment, no big surprise. Her living room was not large but it had a homey feeling to it, the dark sofa outfitted with throw pillows that had the exact same geometric designs as the ones I had at home. All that meant was that we’d both gone to an Ikea in the past year, but I chose to believe we’d been fated to meet each other.

I sat in front of a low table with two coffee table books upon it; one was a collection of famous photos from LIFE magazine, the other a history of female bodybuilding.

I turned on a floor lamp, also Ikea, and started looking through the bodybuilding book. To my eyes most of the featured women were too defined and veiny, like they hadn’t known when to stop lifting weights. Curves had been sacrificed for angularity, which was especially evident in how none of them had breasts to speak of.

Was the book a source of inspiration for Gina? Or, perhaps she looked at the photos and thanked her lucky stars that she had found a formula for muscularity that did nothing to diminish her abundant curves.

As I continued to thumb through the photographs, I heard Gina’s footsteps, padding out of her bedroom. She went in the direction of the bathroom, and soon the shower was running again.

As I waited for us to have the talk we needed to have, I thought about what it must have felt like to her, the sensations I’d implanted that her clitoris was expanding in size. Had it been like some kind of carnal carnival moment, her clit like a reflection in a funhouse mirror? And what other sorts of exaggerated sensations could I implant inside a woman?

I had the thought—was I going too crazy-hot with Gina tonight? Another way to look at it—was there any such thing as bestowing too much wanting, and too much body-bliss?

I couldn’t see how, especially when I’d proven with Dee that I could dial a woman down some if needed, opening up space for her to move on. Rosita was being managed, too—we would fuck again, probably many times, but the timing would be of my choosing.

My hope was this—playing my cards right, which meant shaping my lovers’ desires intelligently, I should never need to worry about having too many women around at the same time. I could sample dozens or even hundreds of women over the years, and never need to feel cramped or constrained.

No penalty then, to eventually amassing a freaking army of enthusiastic lovers. My only slip-up so far—if it even was that—was that I hadn’t thought to put the wish for more immersion hypnosis into Mira. The two times that I’d brought the subject up, hoping to correct that omission, she had strongly refused to be hypnotized a second time.

Thinking about her made me think of my phone, in the pocket of my discarded pants a few feet away. I retrieved it and wasn’t terribly surprised to see that I had several texts from Mira, and two voicemails. I looked at the first text, which read: I’m in ur bed but WHERE R U???

All of her texts were from several hours ago, and so were the voicemails. I listened to the voice messages, two similar laments that she was dying to fuck me and why the hell wasn’t I at home to let her do it?

Just like that I was hard as stone again, my cock wanting Mira almost as much as I’d made her need me. Hypnotizing and fucking other women was great—it was my dick-draining hobby and mad-science power-trip all rolled into one. But, bottom line, embedding my rod inside of Mira Cassidy was still item number one in the instruction manual, and it probably always would be.

I set the phone down. I was going to seize every opportunity all over the place to use my hypnotic skills for supercharged sexual encounters—that was a given now. It was also inevitable that there would be times when those encounters collided with Mira’s availability; such overlaps were simply unavoidable. She must know, logically, that I had no obligation to just sit on my ass waiting for one of her sporadic visits, but logic did not drive naughty Mira’s actions. With her unchained side hopelessly addicted to my dick, missing any shot at sex with me would be a very big deal for her.

I pictured her on my bed, naked with her pussy visibly swollen. The image created a particularly intense tingling in my cock, and a certain wistfulness in my soul. Mira was not like Dee—I would never choose to move on from her, even if I created hordes of hypnotized beautiful women to fuck.

I heard the shower water cease; it was time to be in the here and now, not imaginatively spearing Mira Cassidy’s cunt. I quickly sent a text to Mira with coded phrasing, making it clear that I would make myself available at any time today, if she could get to me. Then, with my cock as straight as a spear, I padded naked to Gina’s bathroom door and knocked.

She had a towel wrapped around her torso when she opened the door. Her eyes immediately locked onto my erection and I tore the towel off her, pressing my cock into her abdomen while saying, “You’re body is way too beautiful to be covered up.”

The compliment had its intended effect. “Ooo,” she whispered, followed by a forceful gust of air when I jammed two fingers inside a suddenly dripping pussy.

There was little speaking after that, just grunts and moans and hands mauling sensitive mutual zones, and then Gina grabbing a tube of gel and slathering my dick with it. Planting one foot up onto the bathroom sink, she offered her ass to me and I plowed right in, making her whoop with a whole body shake.

“Play with yourself!” I demanded, and she touched her clit while I stretched her ass like before, only thrusting even deeper.

Gina tried several times to say something that finally coalesced into a breathy, “This can’t be happening!”

The sensation of her clitoris growing was happening, in her brain and body and every corner of her sexual soul. She jerked and screamed, either accidentally or deliberately embedding my cock even deeper up her back channel. Her wails of imminent deliverance escalated, and I had to grab onto her, holding her upright when all of her muscles went taut and then limp, like every nerve in her body abandoned its original purpose to participate in this new divine form of orgasm.

All of which squeezed the cum right out of me.

It was about an hour later, the two of us spooned on her bed, when she said, “I think I might have had my first squirting orgasms with you. Like, I don’t even know if I could describe that.”

“Try.”

She laughed through her nose. “A friend and I have had this discussion. It’s not competitive, or not meant to be, but… She says she has squirting orgasms, real ones. Lots of people think they’re a myth for women, and most of the ones in porn videos are obvious fakes. I’ve never had one, but tonight I think… My mind was kind of weird so I can’t be sure, but…”

I waited a few beats before saying, “It’s been one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed, seeing and feeling the way you come. I thought it must be normal for you.”

“Normal?” she half-guffawed. She was quiet for a few beats, then: “You’re a therapist.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Tell me, is there such a thing as a sexual hallucination?”

I grinned, which she couldn’t see with my head behind hers. This was about her sensations of an expanding clitoris.

“In general, misperceptions are much more common than outright hallucinations, but people sometimes confuse the two. Sexual misperceptions must be possible, but… This is about whether you had a squirting orgasm?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then…”

She shook her head; not like she was refusing to tell, more like I might not believe her if she did. A hot hand reached back and deliberately brushed against my cock before finding a temporary perch on my thigh.

I put my hand on hers, a blocking motion. “We shouldn’t again, Gina. I should go.”

Her body immediately stiffened. “This can’t just be a one-night stand! I know we’re mostly strangers still, but—”

“It’s not that,” I spoke over her shoulder. “There’s a situation at my office, that I have to figure out immediately. I don’t know how, but… I should leave, to make some very early calls about it.”

She untangled her body from mine and sat up, legs crossed at the ankles. “Your receptionist quit on you or something. It’s that, isn’t it?”

I looked at her beautiful boobs and athletic waist, and the way her leg muscles bulged. Seeing a future where I fucked my hot new receptionist pretty damn often, I said in a dispirited tone, “Yes, she left very suddenly. And that means—”

“That means I’ll start as your new receptionist, today if needed. I have the skills; it’s what I do. Or it’s what I did, at the law firm. You can count on me, promise.”

I sat up, too, and just for show made myself look doubtful. “It’s great of you to offer that, and it might even be a brilliant idea. But in another way… You’d need to give notice, right? Plus, everyone knows it isn’t right for someone in an authority position in a workplace—me—to be in a sexual relationship with an employee—you.”

“Giving notice is a courtesy, not a requirement. Also, having sex with a co-worker is what I’ve been doing for the past three months. John is history now—there won’t be any backtracking on that—but let’s not pretend that engaging in workplace sex is something that troubles me. It’s even a turn-on, especially when…”

She went for my cock again and I made no move to stop her. I was at half-mast and growing, and she sped that along by getting on all fours and licking me solid.

“I can be your receptionist for all to see,” she said, coming up for air. “And also your fitness fuck.”

I pretended to think out loud. “I don’t have clients today. And I could get you up to speed on booking appointments, show you some of the finer details…” Then, switching gears, “You are a true fitness fuck, aren’t you? So fucking beautiful, and these fucking amazing thighs, and your championship ass…”

“Mmm! Oh shit I’m—

“Having your incredible body there in my office, and these amazing tits…”

She moaned from the compliments and from my hands playing with her nipples. I decided to keep toying with her, saying that she must have the most sublime body in the entire city, followed by praises for her luxurious hair and her washboard stomach and her bulging quads and even the arches of her feet.

Her vocalizations and the quivering of her thighs told me all I needed to know about the power of the triggers I’d established in her. I believed that if I kept going, thrusting a hoard of anatomical compliments into her compromised psyche, I really could bring her to orgasm with my voice alone.

But fuck that; what I wanted was the blending of mind-sex and physical sex. Beginning with what was at hand, I maneuvered us into a sixty-nine position and nibbled at Gina’s clitoris for just two or three seconds, then backed off to reiterate how gorgeous her body was. I repeated this several times, her wails escalating with her legs quivering more and more violently. If I kept this up, she was going to pop, big-time.

But not the biggest time. She was too lost in her ecstasy to initiate any different positioning, so I lifted her ass and legs and swiveled her as I wanted, forcefully spreading her legs and very suddenly impaling her swollen pussy with more than half of my length.

Her eyes bulged, and it seemed that all of her muscles did, too. Her mouth was wide open, teeth gleaming, yet she was soundless for a change, until I began a strong and steady in-out motion, going deeper every time. I could tell from her eyebrows alone that the “hallucination” of an expanding clitoris was back, which was going to have her erupting off the charts.

I felt like I was essentially the same—the woman’s pussy was tight as hell, the physical sensations divine, but it was witnessing her immersion-fueled fever that had my balls feeling like they were filling with plasma. This was straight-on fabulous fucking layered with total mind-fucking, and the panther inside me fucking loved mind-jobbing this woman.

“It… it’s happening…”

Again! I silently finished for her, spurting epically into her as she writhed and screamed out her own hallucinatory climax, my cock bathed in what felt like an absolute flood of hot juices.

The sounds she made inspired me to keep pumping. I plowed even deeper and her body shuddered everywhere, her vocalizations a sonic rollercoaster ride whooping up and then down. It reminded me of that earlier thought about needing to soundproof my office.

Because fuck any restraints—there would no longer be any theoretical caution tape at my workplace door, preventing incredible sex from entering. The old stuffy rules were out just like Carlotta was, and I wanted my new receptionist kneeling on top of her desk or sucking me off on the office couch, or climbing on top of her own desk to brandish her pussy or ass for me to fuck.

Those old professional rules and limitations were dead to me now. What ruled now was my never-ending quest for immersion sex, wherever and however I could make it happen.

That Wednesday, pretty much from one midnight to the next, was essentially a sexual whirlwind.

I opened my eyes for good in Gina’s bedroom with the sounds of an awakening city coming through the windows, my phone lighting with a text from Mira at 6:20 that simply said, 3:15. I knew that meant that time on the dot, at my house.

I drove home after parting temporarily from Gina, showering and changing into fresh clothes so I looked and almost felt normal when I arrived at my office at nine.

Gina was already there, standing at the front door with her arms crossed in the warm morning light. She looked like a perfectly ripe peach that I very much wanted to fuck again—it was the extremely short pale yellow skirt she had chosen for the day, plus the deeply scooping red-orange blouse. The woman was showing enough thigh and cleavage that she could be applying for a receptionist’s position in a brothel.

“I know it’s far too little to be wearing,” she semi-apologized as I approached the front door. “But you said there wouldn’t be any clients today, so…”

There was no missing the mischievous glint in her eyes as I put in the code to unlock the door. She leaned very close, as if she needed to watch every number being pressed on the keypad. That had her left boob deliciously—“accidentally” touching my arm. I couldn’t fault the woman for any of this, when I had put it into her to dress inappropriately on Wednesdays, and to tease me with the splendor of her body whenever that was safe.

I could only imagine how many times she’d tortured my former client’s dick like this to perpetuate their workplace affair, the two of them rushing to their cars to drive to her place to fuck. It wouldn’t be the very first thing this morning, but I already knew my cock would end up penetrating some part of my new receptionist’s anatomy before the day was done.

We got down to official business to begin with, as we took care of all the paperwork involved in adding Gina to my payroll, which included the determination of her salary. I asked what she’d been making at her previous job, then I added ten percent to that, plus the same health benefit package as Carlotta. She was ecstatic—for a few seconds it looked like she might not be able to restrain herself from bestowing me with a blow-job motivated by pure joy. Having had sex with her all night helped my cock to feel patient, so I told her that I needed a couple of hours of privacy to take care of some things.

My very first task, accomplished quite easily, was to get a rough quote and timetable on having my office soundproofed. It wasn’t nearly as expensive as I’d feared, largely because there was no need to keep all sound from getting in. I wasn’t building a zero-tolerance recording studio; I just wanted enough acoustic buffering to keep my business neighbors from thinking that I was torturing wild animals for a living.

I spent a little time surveying the office bathroom next. There was no shower, but it seemed to me that I had room for a tiny one, like something that might fit inside an RV. With a little online research and a few phone calls, I had an appointment for a contractor to look mid over on Friday morning.

I felt really good about what I was doing, taking these practical steps towards turning my office into a space built for my proliferating sexual adventures. My house was reserved for sex with Mira, and I wasn’t about to book expensive hotel rooms again and again, or rent an apartment. That meant taking these necessary steps for lots and lots of completely inappropriate office sex.

There were financial repercussions to any remodeling of my office space, so I spent some time double-checking the numbers on that front. As I’d thought, I was doing really well. I wasn’t nearly as wealthy as my former receptionist, but I was very comfortable.

“If you want it, you can have it,” I spoke out loud. The words might have begun as commentary on my financial position, but in reality I knew I was speaking to my dick.

Next, my mind and my typing fingers went to the removal of unwanted odors from a room. I was researching the difference between scent-absorbing gels and ozone generators when there was a soft knock on the inner door, and an entirely different means of changing the smells in a room presented itself.

“Come on in,” I called out, expecting it would be Gina with some technical question.

Only it wasn’t Gina. It was Terri Thorngood, her body sheathed in a sage green sundress with a hemline that was almost as high as my new receptionist’s fuck-me skirt.

“Hi, I brought the flowers you ordered,” she said, standing shyly at the doorway.

I was confused. I was certain that Terri’s session was scheduled for tomorrow, and I had never ordered any flowers. Also, she looked partly like herself and partly like a woman I’d never met before, a tall-ish woman with luxuriant hair and an even better mouth than I ed, and extremely elegant legs.

I stood uncertainly and beckoned her to come in. She did, minus any flowers, gently closing the door behind her.

Without really thinking about it I walked around my desk and met her halfway. “Did Carlotta order flowers yesterday?”

Terri shook her head, looking a little sheepish. “No, and neither did your lovely temp. I left them with her out there and… They’re a gift, and maybe a kind of peace offering.”

“We need a peace offering?”

“Not really, but… Can we talk a few minutes? Not a session; I don’t want… I think I’m done with sessions. That’s partly why I’m here, to cancel my appointment tomorrow. And to, well…”

I believed I was beginning to catch on, which brought warmth to my genitals. I gestured to the couch, concluding that it wouldn’t be right for us to situate ourselves in the desk/chair arrangement of a formal session.

On the way there, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Terri’s surprisingly spectacular legs. She was wearing heels the same color as the dress, and though her legs weren’t as off-the-charts scrumptious as Mira’s, nor as pumped as Gina’s, they were very beautifully formed, long and sleek and shapely. She had been a professional model, after all.

She sat down in a ladylike manner, and I breathed in how being close to her like this was as much a delight for my nose as my eyes. It was like she had already brought a bouquet of fresh flowers into the room, placing them under my nostrils to try out.

I couldn’t help it; I tried to detect the scent of an eager pussy, too, because Terri had carried sexual electricity into the room. I had caused it to bloom in her nearly a week before, although I’d held back at directing it towards me.

A mistake that she was correcting all by herself?

“Is Carlotta ill?” she asked.

“No, she’s fine. Her life took something of an unexpected turn, for the better, actually. She’s taking some time off, perhaps permanently.”

“And the young woman out there…”

“Gina. I’m hoping she’s a permanent replacement.”

“She certainly won’t frighten away your male clients. But maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“Don’t get me wrong; I can’t help but be envious of her figure. I mean, I want a body like that! But maybe that much cleavage is excessive for a receptionist?”

“Agreed. I’m going to need to speak to her about that.”

“I really am envious. I was looking at her arms and shoulders and… I made her come out from behind her desk to take the flowers, and my lord, her leg muscles! I mean, there’s going to a gym to get fit, and then there’s owning the equipment. She reminds me of… Don’t laugh, but I think she looks like a superhero.”

I did laugh, lightly and deliberately, masking how I knew all about Terri’s sexual fetish involving superheroes, or at least super powers.

“It must take real dedication to develop a physique like that,” she continued. “I would never have been allowed to become that sculpted when I was modeling—being fit is fine, even required, but there’s a kind of taboo about becoming too pumped or ripped. But now, with my modeling days behind me… I guess I find a body like that inspiring.”

Were there strange winds at my back now, blowing what I had done with Alma Andersen yesterday into a trend line? It seemed to me that Terri had a nearly ideal frame for adding additional muscle if she wanted, and if the only thing preventing that from happening was a lack of discipline… Well, I could help with that. I could help a lot.

Since she had put the subject of feminine beauty on the table, I decided to comment on her changed appearance, letting my eyes roam all over the skin she was showing. “Speaking of inspiring, is there something special happening today, like a florist’s convention or…”

She tilted her head and smiled in the way that only a mouth as gorgeous as hers could, her cheeks puffing out deliciously. “No special occasion, or at least no official one. Somehow I got it in my head that I wanted to surprise the customers today, to show them… And maybe I wanted to surprise you, too. I’m not hard on the eyes, right? I was highly sought after for my looks before deciding to work with plants every day, and today is the day I remind everybody of that; that’s all.”

That was not nearly all of it, although she couldn’t know how deep her rabbit hole was. I’d directed her to dress in a far more revealing way for her next appointment, and technically cancelling the session had not removed the need to show me the goods.

“Maybe I’ll just say that your customers’ gain is the modeling world’s loss, because… Wow!”

She did not look at all unhappy about the compliment. And was there any meaning, at whatever depths of her psyche, to the fact that she licked her lips right then?

“So you’re canceling your appointment tomorrow,” I kept things going. “But somehow I sense there’s more going on than that.”

She nodded, and the tilt of her lips became a bit crafty. “This might sound rather dramatic, but I’ve had a breakthrough, or a… It’s like a life-changing realization about myself, that touches on everything, even my relationship with Alexandre. He’s history, by the way. I’m getting my own place, I’ve already signed the lease.”

“Wow again!” I responded. “I never thought… Really, Alexandre is out of the picture? What happened?”

“Just… I guess I happened. I’ve discovered… I’m far more than I thought I was, and that goes deeper than some minor shift in attitude. how I wanted to put myself out there into the dating scene?”

I nodded, taking in the structure of her knees, calves, ankles. She had pretty good-sized breasts, too, maybe a generous C-cup, just big enough that I wanted to see them. I wanted to know what her pussy looked like, too. I’d never bedded a model—was a model’s pussy somehow just as dazzling as the rest? I’d know soon, because it was already a given that I was going to fuck this woman.

“I’ve gone on three dates since our last session, and those men… They’re the cream of the dating app— a lawyer, a banker and even one CEO. Desirable men, and it’s no exaggeration to say that I just blew them away. Like probably every one of them would marry me if I wanted that. I feel really special, and it’s because I am special.”

Blew them away—I wondered whether these dates included Terri taking their masters-of-the-universe loads as far down her throat as their dicks could reach.

“I can see now that by choosing to be with Alexandre—who, face it, is so totally into himself—I got lost. I kept feeling like he was above me, like he had the real star quality and I was somehow lesser. I don’t even know how my thinking got so pedestrian; it’s like I lost track of my dreams and fell into the belief that if I just settled down and got married to someone beautiful like him, I’d find happiness.”

She began to laugh at herself, and every bit of my attention gravitated towards that succulent mouth. As if I had X-ray vision, I pictured how hypnotism had transformed the throat and esophagus inside her neck, allowing the woman to gladly take cock as deep as cocks could go.

“It turns out I’ve got abilities I never knew I had, and that’s awakened this daredevil streak inside me, this craving for adventure. And I know that must sound ridiculous to you, a woman who works at her mother’s garden center talking about being adventurous. But it’s true, and this week I’ve been acting on it.”

My expanding dick didn’t think it sounded ridiculous in the least, and I was intrigued by the way she was speaking to me, telling me her story like I was still her therapist, only more conversationally. Without coming right out and divulging the specifics, she was recounting something like a superhero origin story, where a normal person is suddenly gifted with extraordinary abilities, after which their life can never be the same.

“I’m happy for you, Terri,” I said, thinking several steps ahead. “And just happy in general that you don’t feel any need for additional therapy. If you’d like, we can call this our first conversation where we’re no longer therapist and client, but just two people wishing each other well. Deal?”

She nodded yes, but a crease between her eyebrows confirmed that she had more on her mind than bringing flowers and quitting therapy.

“There’s something else you want to ask me,” I prodded.

“You’re right. Driving over here, I started to wonder…” She lightly licked her beautiful lips again. “Could a therapist and a former client ever go out for lunch? Or maybe a drink?”

And there it was, more than enough of an opening for me to do anything I wanted. “If this is a tactful way of asking me out to lunch or dinner, then the answer is yes, we can and I’d love to. On one condition.”

She was happy, but also curious. “Which is?”

“I insist on ending the therapist/client dynamic the right way, by briefly working with the relaxation technique one last time. That’s how I finish off my work with every client now, kind of like a closing ritual. It will help me to make the needed shift in the relationship—in our relationship.”

A look came into her eyes, like a puppy dog being offered a special treat. “That sounds lovely. And look at where I am, already on the couch.”

I smiled like this hadn’t even occurred to me, nor the fact that with her dress so short, having her lie down with her legs stretched out would provide me with a wonderful view of the full length of her thighs, probably up to and including her panties.

I’d primed her to always say yes to being “relaxed” by me, and she wasted no time, leaning forward to slip her feet out of her heels. Without even glancing at me, she arranged herself in what I was coming to see as my favorite foreplay position, a woman lying on her back completely relaxed and trusting, naively receptive to having her mind penetrated.

Just for fun I said, “Maybe you want to tug the hem of your skirt down a little bit? It’s… You know.”

She did know, and responded with another smile and two ladylike tugs that did almost nothing to provide additional concealment.

I had not been expecting to hypnotize Terri today, and gathered my thoughts for a few seconds. As I modulated my voice and led her into her body with her conscious mind going on holiday somewhere, my cock pulsed with the insistence of an engine, answering in its way the question I hadn’t even asked, of just how far I’d go in misbehaving with this woman.

Far, farther, farther still, it pulsed.