The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“, lift with your knees.”

“Thanks, Nic. I’d just about forgotten that pro tip after the last two dozen times,” I said as I dropped into a squat and wrapped my arms around the old washing machine.

Nicole grinned and stepped back to give me room, which also happened to be exactly where she’d been standing before. She lowkey looked like one of those old pinup models with her rosy cheeks, wavy red hair, and soft curves. Today she was wearing a snug crop top, tight skinny jeans, and open toe sandals. Perfect for moving day.

Her girlfriend Belle was perched on the porch railing, scrolling her phone. She was at the other end of the spectrum. Tiny and adorable in a baby t-shirt, pink dolphin shorts, and knee-high black leather boots. I don’t think I’d seen either of them touch a box in the last forty minutes.

“Girls.”

Belle’s mother, Mrs. Arden, appeared in the hallway with a dish towel over her shoulder and both hands on her hips. She looked at Nicole. Then at Belle. Then at me, red-faced and breathing hard, cheek pressed up against the cool metal of the machine.

“Are you two seriously just standing there?”

“We’re spotting him,” Nicole said.

“Belle Marie.” There was more resignation in it than outrage.

Belle looked up from her phone.

“You both should be ashamed of yourselves.” She stepped carefully around me and touched my arm. “Sweetheart, you have been an absolute godsend today. I mean it. I don’t know what these two would have done without you.”

“Hired someone,” I muttered.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but it got a laugh out of Belle.

“We would have figured it out,” Nicole said.

Mrs. Arden ignored her. She ed me at the back of the truck, watching with her hand over her mouth as I got the washing machine up to the tailgate and, with one last heave, wrestled it into the bed.

I stood there a moment, palms flat on the tailgate, head down, catching my breath.

“John, honey, you didn’t have to do all this,” Mrs. Arden said.

I turned and waved her off with a tired hand. “It’s no trouble at all, Mrs. Arden. Really.”

“Nonsense. Those two have been working you like a dog all morning.” Belle’s Mom had a way of grossly understating things. This was the fourth time I’d packed the truck up to the gills this morning and I knew I’d be the one unloading it again after we’d made the trip across town to their new house.

“Here. You take this. It’s the least you deserve,” Belle’s mother placed a crisp twenty dollar bill on the tailgate right between my palms.

You would think that a woman who bought her daughter a brand new house as a college graduation gift—and a brand new car for her 16th, 18th, and 22nd birthday—would be a more generous tipper. I was under no such illusions.

“Thanks, appreciate it, Mrs. Arden.” I folded and pocketed the bill. Twenty dollars was twenty dollars. “And don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll make it up to me sooner or later.”

“Oh come on. If we hadn’t brought John along, he’d be even sweatier right now lifting weights at the gym. He ought to be paying us for the free workout,” Nicole said. Airtight argument. She was going to make a great lawyer I was sure.

“Plus the fee for getting to hang out with girls this cute,” Belle added.

“Girls.” Mrs. Arden didn’t have a follow up, so she just sighed.

“Well, this should be the last trip for me, so I’ll be seeing you around, Mrs. Arden,” I said. “Meet you two at the new place?”

“Finally.” Belle hopped off the porch railing, rai her arms and arching her back, making her shirt ride up her flat stomach. Much as I hated to it it, she did have a point about being cute. “This whole day has been exhausting.”

“We should do lunch after we unload,” Nicole said, pulling her phone out. “I’m starving.”

“Ooh.” Belle perked up at that. “There’s that steakhouse on Elm that I’ve been wanting to try. Carver’s? I heard it’s really good.”

“Do they deliver?”

“It’s a steakhouse, Nicole.”

“So no.”

“So no.” Belle looked at her. “But I think we all deserve a steak after this much manual labor.”

“I’d like two steaks,” I said, reasonably.

“H’okay.” Nicole was already scrolling. “I can go pick it up and meet you guys there. Should be faster than both of us going anyway.”

“That works.” Belle looked at me, then at my truck, then back at me with an expression that suggested she was doing some kind of internal cost-benefit analysis. I was not unaware that I had been moving furniture in July heat for the better part of four hours.

“You okay?” I asked.

“You’re really sweaty, John.”

“Yeah. Moving will do that.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Like, really sweaty.”

“Belle,” Mrs. Arden said out of habit.

“I’m just saying.” She looked at Nicole, but all she got was a sympathetic smile and a small shrug that very clearly said you’re on your own.

Belle sighed and trudged toward the enger side of my truck.

“Fine. But windows down the whole way.”

The truck rumbled to life and I cranked the AC, though with both windows down per Belle’s demand, it wasn’t doing much. She sat with her knees together, watching the neighborhood roll by as I pulled out of the cul-de-sac.

I gave it about two blocks. Long enough to get out of sight of Mrs. Arden’s house.

“Hey. Suck my cock, would you?”

Belle didn’t look over. She kept her eyes on the window, watching a kid on a bicycle pedal past a fire hydrant.

“Seriously? Right now?”

“Right now.”

She exhaled through her nose.

“John, I literally just got comfortable.”

“And I literally just moved all your fucking furniture. By myself.”

“We spotted you.”

“That joke is getting old. Come on. It’s just a blowjob.”

She finally looked at me. Those big brown eyes. That pouty little mouth. The crop of messy dark hair tucked behind both ears. She studied my face for a second, checked the road ahead like she was calculating how far we had to go, and then looked down at my lap.

“Ugh. Fine.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt, pulled her legs up under her on the bench seat, and leaned over the center console.

“You’re so gross right now, by the way,” she said, her small fingers finding my belt buckle. “You smell like a gym bag.”

“That’s the gratitude I get.”

“I said thank you earlier.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I was going to.” She got my belt undone and popped the button on my jeans, tugging the zipper down. Her nose wrinkled again as the musk hit her. Four hours of July heat and heavy lifting. I could smell it myself. “Oh my God, John.”

“Friends help friends out,” I said.

“Mmmhm…” Belle answered sleepily, her ass wiggling slightly. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d used that trigger on her. By now, it was as natural as breathing to her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, fishing my cock out through the fly of my boxer briefs. “Friends help friends out.”

My dick was half-hard already. It had been half-hard most of the morning, honestly, between Nicole bending over in those painted-on skinny jeans and Belle stretching on the porch with her flat stomach showing. Belle’s small hand wrapped around the shaft and didn’t quite make it all the way around, her fingers just barely not touching her thumb.

“You could have at least showered first,” she said, giving it a few lazy pumps. Her grip was loose, but blowjobs had never been her forte.

“Could have,” I agreed. But when she was going to suck it either way, I didn’t see much of a point. “And you could have helped out more this morning.”

She gave my cock a long lick from shaft to tip. “Yeah, but what’s the point when you were going to do it anyways?”

“Focus on the blowjob, Belle,” I said, one hand on the wheel, the other coming to rest on top of her head.

“Mm.”

She stretched her mouth open wide and took me inside. No teeth, back of the throat, tongue working in circles. She might complain, but she wasn’t going to give me a half-hearted blowjob.

I kept my right hand on the back of her head. Not pushing. Just resting there, feeling the soft mess of her dark hair under my palm. My other hand stayed on the wheel as I merged onto the main road, focused on driving while she focused on getting me off.

A few minutes later at the stop light, I glanced down. Her tiny frame was curled sideways on the enger seat, her ass in those pink dolphin shorts sticking up, her knees tucked beneath her. The baby t-shirt had ridden up again, showing the smooth skin of her lower back and the dimples just above the waistband of her shorts.

She was small. That was the thing about Belle. Nicole was soft and curvy and built like a pinup, but Belle was a hundred and five pounds, with a tiny waist, narrow hips, a tight little ass, and tits that barely filled a B-cup. The very definition of funsized.

The light stayed red, so I gently pressed on the back of her head. She got the message and made a muffled sound and sank down until I felt the head of my cock bump the back of her throat. Her body tensed, her fingers tightening on the base of my shaft, and she pulled back immediately with a small cough.

“Easy,” she said, wiping her lower lip with her thumb. She shot me a look.

“My bad. Felt good.”

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips, took a breath, and went back down.

This time she set up a steadier rhythm. Deeper than before but not by much—about half my length, her lips sealing tight as she worked up and down, her tongue tracing a few circles each time she pulled back..

I turned left at the stoplight and checked the GPS. Eleven minutes to the new house. I was in no rush.

I’d put the suggestion in her head three years ago, back when we were all sophomores and I’d first started experimenting with what I could do. The answer was “not as much as I wanted, but more than I expected.” Sure, give me a few hours and I could get a girl calling me Master, chanting about how obedience is pleasure and she exists only to serve. But she’d have a whole bunch of questions the next morning when all that wore off.

I’m sure that with enough time and energy I could get a girl or three so well conditioned and trained that they’d think nothing of living as my sextoys, but well… that kind of thing was more trouble than it’s worth. This was a happy middle ground. Easy enough to implant and maintain, and not dramatic enough that she’d be fighting the control or realizing something was off on her own.

I hit another red light. The truck idled, engine rumbling, and I took the moment to look down at her properly. I gave that ass a nice meaty swat. Might not be big, but dolphin shorts really brought out the charm in a skinny ass. Fat asses too, come to think of it.

The truck behind me honked. Light was green. I drove.

“Cute ass,” I told her.

“Mmhmm,” she said around my cock.

We ed the steakhouse on Elm and I saw the parking lot was packed. Not surprising for a Sunday lunch. Nicole might be stuck there for a while before she got our order.

Belle shifted on the seat, adjusting her position. Her knee bumped the center console and she muttered something irritable and muffled and repositioned herself so she was lying almost fully across the bench seat, her chest on the console, her face in my lap. The new angle let her go deeper. She took advantage of it, sinking down until my cock hit the back of her throat again, this time without flinching, and holding there for a beat before sliding back up.

“Good girl,” I said quietly.

“Blah…” Belle pulled herself back up. “Don’t be gross, John. I’m not your fucking discord kitten.”

“Jeez. My bad. But save the complaining for after you’ve made me cum.”

“Fiiine.” She went back to deepthroating, ratcheting up her aggression, making soft little gluk gluk gluk sounds with every bounce. Had a feeling she had a lot of whining she wanted to get out of her system and was now trying to hurry me along.

I made a right turn and had to slow down for a speed bump. The jolt made Belle gag—a short, sharp GLURK—and she pulled off with a gasp, a thick rope of saliva stretching between her swollen lips and the tip of my cock.

“Warn me when you’re going to do that,” she said, coughing once.

“Speed bump.”

“I noticed.” She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, wiped her hand on my jeans. Her eyes were a little watery from the throat work and her lips were puffy and red.

She went back down without being asked.

In spite of her best efforts though, I’m not the kind of guy who’ll text or blow his load while driving. I turned into the new neighborhood, a quiet subdivision with freshly paved streets and young trees still held up by wire s. Belle’s new house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, a tidy two-story colonial with a two-car garage and a front porch that came with its own porch swing. Nice lawn too.

I pulled into the driveway and shifted into park and killed the engine.

Belle was still going, her small body curled across the console, ass up in those ridiculous pink shorts, mouth working my cock even faster now, thinking that she was just about finished with this chore.

“Inside,” I said.

She pulled off with a pop, wiping her mouth. “What?”

“I want to finish inside.”

Belle blinked at me. Her lips were swollen and shiny with spit. A thin strand of saliva still connected her lower lip to the tip of my cock. “John, I’ve been at this for like ten minutes.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. But I want to finish inside.” I tucked my cock back into my jeans.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said. But she was already climbing out of the truck.

The heat hit us like a wall when we got out. July in full swing, with the humidity worse than the heat. I grabbed the house key from the cup holder and followed Belle up the front walk.

I unlocked the front door and held it open for her. She walked in and looked around the empty living room.

“Where do you want me?” she asked with the same tone as where should I put this box?

“Kitchen.”

The kitchen was through an open archway at the back of the main floor. It was a nice kitchen centered around a big island with a butcher block top. Belle walked in and turned to face me.

“Well?”

I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up onto the butcher block island, her legs pressed against my sides.

“Hey—” She caught herself on her hands. “This place is brand new. You don’t want to do this in the bathroom at least?”

“Nah.” I pulled her dolphin shorts and panties down by the waistband, Belle lifting her hips up to help, then bringing her legs together so I could slide them off, toss them to the floor.

Belle sat on the butcher block in her baby t-shirt and knee-high leather boots and nothing else from the waist down, legs dangling. She looked impatient, slightly annoyed, but I didn’t think she was too put out.

I pushed two fingers in just to confirm and they slid inside easily. Belle wiggled her hips, clenched around my fingers, and her breathing went from silent to little gasps and half-moans. A few pumps and when I pulled out, a trail of pussy drool followed. “Look how wet you are.”

“What? Blowjobs make me horny. You know that.”

“Is that all? I thought it might be the thrill of doing it somewhere new, or the risk of getting caught.”

“We really will if you don’t get this over with,” she pointed out.

She had a point, so I stepped between her knees and pushed them apart. Her thighs were smooth and pale, extra squishy for such a skinny girl. She wrinkled her nose at me. “You’re so sweaty.”

“And whose fault is that?” I asked as I hooked one of her legs up over my forearm, angling her hips.

“Yours? You didn’t have to come over. I mean, appreciate the help and all, but—”

She shut up as soon as I pushed two fingers back inside her. She could still talk while being fingered, but she’d told me that it was embarrassing how mangled her words got.

“Fuck,” she said. “J-just like thaaat. I wish you could teach Nicole how to—”

Her phone buzzed on the counter beside her.

She reached for it.

“Ignore it,” I said.

“It’s Nicole.” She looked at the screen. Then at me. Then she picked up. “Hey, Nic.” Her voice came out roughly normal, which was impressive given that my fingers were still buried inside her. “Yep, just got here... John? He’s in the bathroom.” Her free hand found my wrist and squeezed while she gave me a warning shake of her head.

I should have taken that warning, but it was her fault for sucking me off on the ride over here.

I pulled my fingers out of her and wiped them clean on her squishy thigh, then unzipped my jeans and fished my cock out. It sprang out fully hard, foreskin pulled back, shining with precum. Belle licked her lips. When I lined it up with her pussy, she gave her head an even more furious shake.

I pushed inside anyway.

Her mouth came open and she jammed two knuckles against her lips. “—sorry, what? No, I’m fine, I just—” A sharp breath through the nose. “I stubbed my toe.” I was buried to the hilt. She was stretched wide around me, her tight little body struggling to take all of it. Her eyes were very wide. “The boots, I know. I know. Okay. Yeah. Uh huh… baked potato sounds great. Okay, bye.” She hung up and immediately grabbed the edge of the counter with both hands. “Oh my God.”

“Good girl,” I said.

“Don’t.” But her hips were already tilting. She couldn’t help it.

I pulled back and drove in. Belle’s whole small body slid back an inch on the butcher block, and she made a sound like she’d been punched in the stomach.

“Fuuck…”

I did it again. And again. Set up a pace, hands gripping her narrow hips, watching my cock disappear inside her with every thrust. She was soaked. The sounds were obscene. The wet slaps, my knees banging into the island, but what really got me going was the way she couldn’t keep quiet. Every breath was a gasping little cry that made me think of Japanese porn actresses.

Belle threw her head back. Her messy dark hair spilled over her shoulders. I pulled the shirt up to her collarbone. No bra. Her tits were small and firm with stiff pink nipples, and they barely moved, just these small quick jolts with every thrust. I grabbed one in my hand and it barely filled my palm.

“Love your cute little tits,” I said.

“Shut—” She gasped. “Shut up.”

She wasn’t very convincing when she had her legs hooked around my hips and was leaving marks on my forearms from her nails digging in.

I got a hand in her hair, right at the back of her skull, and tilted her head back.

“Ohhhh.” Belle’s voice cracked. “Okay. Okay. Oh…! John!”

“Yeah?”

“Do me HAHHHH a favor?” Her voice went lower as she tried to form a coherent sentence. “Harder… and don’t cum yet. Almost… almost there!”

“Sure, Belle. Friends help friends out.”

Her legs tightened around me and I sped up, hammering into her so fast that I could hear the rhythm of it in her moaning. I was worried I might come too early, but she wasn’t subtle when she came.

Her whole body went rigid and she let out a choked little sound, face scrunched up, thighs clamped around me hard as she could. I fucked her through it without slowing down, watching her come apart on the kitchen island with her hair a mess and her shirt around her collarbone and her knee-high boots locked at my lower back.

Then I pulled her to the edge of the island and came inside her. Deep, slow thrusts, letting it finish naturally, her breathing gradually evening out beneath me.

We stayed like that for a minute.

Belle let out a long breath. Looked up at the ceiling of her brand new kitchen.

“Friends help friends out,” she said, mostly to herself.

“There you go.” I stepped back. She slid off the island on slightly unsteady legs, found her shorts, and pulled them back on.

She came back towards me and dropped down to her knees.

“Ugh. Now I need a shower,” Belle said as she handled cleanup for me, dragging her tongue against my crotch. “And a change of clothes.”

“Clothes should be right… there,” I pointed towards one of the larger piles of boxes that had been left in the greater scattered pile of the living room. Nice thing about clothes was that they didn’t weigh much during a move.

She gave my cock another thirty seconds of polishing then popped it out of her mouth. “Perfect. If Nicole comes back, just tell her I needed the shower to get your stink off my clothes after having to share the ride here.”

Belle had plenty of time, with Nicole’s car not pulling into the driveway until twenty minutes later. Belle had used that time to slip into a new outfit—a tube top with a tied off red flannel shirt and short skirt, the boots traded for a comfortable pair of sneakers—and I’d managed to get half the truck unloaded.

I was wrestling the washing machine into its new home when I heard the front door, and then Nicole appeared in the kitchen archway with a brown paper bag that smelled incredible, and a cardboard carrier with three cups.

“Okay, they forgot one of the baked potatoes,” she announced, “but I got the drinks and the steak smell was driving me nuts the whole drive here.” She set everything on the island, reached into the bag, and then pulled her crop top over her head.

Belle looked up from her phone.

Nicole unclasped her bra and let it fall. Her tits were everything Belle’s were not: heavy and round and pale with large dark nipples, spilling slightly to the sides with their own weight when freed. She shimmied out of her skinny jeans and then her underwear, until she was standing in their new kitchen in open-toed sandals and nothing else.

She reached back into the bag and produced a styrofoam container. “They gave us extra rolls, though, which I feel like evens out.” She looked at me. Then at Belle. “What?”

“What are you doing?” Belle said.

“I heard you on the phone,” Nicole said simply, flipping open the styrofoam lid to inspect its contents. “You forgot to hang up.”

The kitchen was quiet.

I looked at Belle. Belle looked at me.

“How much did you hear?” I asked.

“Enough.” Nicole picked up a roll and pulled it apart. “The stubbed-your-toe thing was pretty transparent, by the way.” She ate half the roll in one bite, completely unbothered, standing naked in the kitchen. Her fat ass was distracting me.

“You’re not..” Belle searched for the word. “Upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” Nicole said, not looking up from the food. “I’ve been sleeping with him since March. I just didn’t know you two were such good friends too. It honestly makes things so much easier.”

The kitchen was quiet again. A longer quiet this time.

Belle turned and looked at me.

“March,” she said.

“Sounds about right,” I confirmed.

She looked at the ceiling. Then back at me. “And you didn’t think to mention that.”

“Figured it would complicate things.”

“Uh-huh.” She reached past Nicole and grabbed a roll. “God. You can be such a prude about some things. You know that, John?”

“Right?” Nicole agreed.

The real worry had been that I wasn’t sure the hypnosis would hold. It was one thing for them to offer up their bodies to me as a friendly gesture. But knowing that their lover was doing the same was downright adulterous. Different parts of the brain, different moral lines that were crossed. I’d tried to implant the idea that these kinds of things were just natural among friends, but I’d been too chicken to take that risk.

“Fine, fine. My bad.” I watched Belle start to untie her flannel shirt and strip to match with Nicole. “While I appreciate the view,” I’d hypnotized them to prefer being nude when we were alone. Getting them comfortable with being naked around me helped as a stepping stone to other things. Plus it was fun to hang out with hot naked lesbians in my area. “You girls know that there’s still plenty of boxes left in the truck that need carrying, right? You two plan on going outside in your birthday suits?”

“Don’t be silly!” Nicole said as she and Belle flanked me. I could feel her big soft tits against my arm. Could also feel Belle’s fun little ass in the palm of my hand, getting squeezed, even though I didn’t grabbing it. “We’ve got a big strong man here to help us out with that kind of thing, right?”

Nicole put her hand to my cheek and turned my head towards her for a kiss, our tongues playing together for a few seconds. When Belle did the same, I leaned down to meet her lips.

“Friends help friends out, ?” Belle reminded me.