The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sunday morning found me in the gym, like any other week. Mistress Lauren had studying to do and left early. I wanted to put in some exercise—something hard to come by in the sedentary day-to-day life of the academic. So, off to the university gym facilities I went. I figured a workout would help me work out some of the tension that had been building in the back of my head for the past few days. Ever since I had seen Lauren in the trance lab, and ever since I had discussed her mind-blowing hypnotically-aided masturbation with her supervisor, Dr. Einschlafern.

All hope of blowing off steam was lost, of course, when I discovered that Dr. Einschlafern was there at the gym too. She was in precisely the same place she had been a few days before, and a few days before that—on the treadmill directly in front of the one I normally used. Part of me wondered if she had been expecting me, but I just wiped the sleep from my eyes and dismissed the notion as nonsense, and decided to try to take my mind off of things.

I thought about greeting her, but wasn’t sure what to say. After all, the first time I’d seen her here at the gym, I had ended up deeply hypnotized and completely open to her. And the last time I saw her, she had gotten me to come at the snap of her fingers—and I wasn’t sure she had really even needed to hypnotize me in order to do it. Clearly a simple ‘Hi’ didn’t feel like the right thing to say. Part of me was wondering what might happen if I did talk to her, and the other part of me was petrified of exactly that. Noticing that she had headphones in her ears made my decision mercifully easier. I just shook the thought out of my head and took up my usual spot. Truth be told, I really didn’t mind looking at her legs while I jogged. And so I let myself zone out and do precisely that.

Eventually, maybe 20 minutes later, she finished her stint on the treadmill. Upon noticing me, she stopped, greeted me with a smile, and came straight over to talk. I turned the machine off, and decided I might as well call it a day too.

“So, it seems we have the same weekly exercise routine,” the Dean said, the utter picture of nonchalance.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“This reminds me. I believe that I forgot to return Lauren’s pocketwatch to you the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh? Really?” Somehow I had forgotten entirely about that too.

“Yes, indeed. It is still in my possession. I admit, I rather enjoy exercising, but sometimes the raised endorphin levels that such activities produce can leave one somewhat absent-minded. Do you know what I mean?”

‘Somewhat absent-minded,’ that’s how she put it. Of course I knew what she meant. I knew it ever so well, it was just what her research—and Lauren’s research on me—had focused on.

“Yeah.”

Staring into those deep, dark, enveloping brown eyes, I started feeling a little fuzzy. Okay, way more than a little.

“Yes, of course. And so when one feels pleased and satisfied and absent-minded for such basic neuro-chemical reasons, it becomes very easy to lose one’s focus, and to forget about things you had meant to do as you become very easily and pleasantly side-tracked. So, I hope you will please forgive me for letting this one little thing slip out of my mind when we spoke last week.”

“Yeah...”

She reached up and casually brushed a stray lock of hair back from her forehead, holding my gaze unflinchingly.

“However, I do not have the watch with me at this moment. Could you perhaps meet me at the entrance to the locker rooms in a few minutes?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Right. For the watch. Yes. Of course.”

“You were not thinking about the watch. I am puzzled—what were you expecting me to say?”

Those dark eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly as she asked. There was a long, awkward pause. She held my gaze, unblinking, as if her eyes were probing into my mind for the answer.

“Sleep,” I murmured at last. The word came tumbling out of my mouth so suddenly that I almost missed it happening. It felt almost like her eyes had just found what I was thinking, and pulled it out into the open for everyone to see. There was a flicker of confusion on her face, but then her lips curled back in a wry smile as she realized the full effect her gaze was having on me. She took a slow, deep breath, and I found myself breathing along with her. Her grin widened a little more.

“Sleep,” she said at last.

And down I went.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the bench in the faculty coat room, the same place as the week before, with Dr. Einschlafern sitting next to me. I had a strong sense of deja vu—almost as if I had been here more than just once, as if this was a regular thing, as if it were our normal routine.

“Do you know what suggestions I gave you this time?” she asked. I shook my head. I absolutely could not remember. Not that that was very surprising, at this point.

“Would you like to know?” I sighed, and found my head shaking itself.

“No.” The word just popped out.

“I see. In that case, I suppose it will remain a secret between me and your unconscious mind. Now then, if you have a few minutes to spare, Derek, would you enjoy a repeat of what happened the last time we found ourselves sitting here?”

“Yes,” I found myself answering immediately, and almost over-enthusiastically.

“Very well,” she replied.

She peeled off her top layer to reveal a quite low cut form-fitting top that left most of her sports bra visible—along with her cleavage. With a grin that seemed almost reluctant, she leaned back against the wall, then lifted her foot and placed it in my lap for me to remove her sneaker. The shoe came off easily, revealing a white, ankle-high, sock with a gray sole and a black logo on the back of the ankle cuff. Moments later I was happily massaging her socked foot, and trying in vain to hide the all-too-predictable bulge in my gym shorts. The doctor simply watched me, staring in what might have been amusement. Her face gave so little away it made it impossible to tell for sure.

A few wordless moments more, and she offered me the other foot. I quickly unlaced the sneaker and took it off. As I did, she allowed her foot to rest in my lap. Specifically, she allowed it to rest right in the middle of my lap. Right against the fabric of my shorts that my cock was straining against. My eyes went wide and I must have flushed deep red. She, on the other hand, merely cocked an eyebrow, her gaze meeting mine, cold and level, as if nothing was at all out of the ordinary. I could feel it, a touch so light and delicate it was impossible to know if it was deliberate or just an accident. Though some part of me was dead sure that my uncertainty about her intentions was something she was deliberately inducing.

“Would you not like to continue?” she asked, pressing her other foot insistently into my hands. Still awestruck, I resumed the massage.

“It feels good?” she said. Or asked. I honestly wasn’t sure if she was telling me that she enjoyed the footrub, or if she was telling me how I felt—or maybe even telling me how to feel. But either way it was true. I nodded. Soon after I did, I felt her foot press softly, probingly, as if feeling to see just exactly how hard I was. I stifled a gasp stared, helpless, unsure of what to do.

“Interesting,” she murmured softly, I think mostly to herself, staring at my erection as it continued to respond to her touch. Her eyes flicked down to it for a second, then met mine again.

“You are aroused?” she said, very quietly. Again, I really didn’t know if she was asking, or just stating the obvious. I nodded again, and felt her foot press on my cock again as I did so.

“Did you enjoy watching me on the treadmill today?”

Another nod. Another stimulation of my erection, even as her gaze held mine, completely unflinchingly.

“You enjoyed being hypnotized as well, I imagine?”

I nodded again, and was again treated to a gentle teasing press by her toes. My cock strained harder against my shorts in response.

“The idea of hypnosis arouses you?” she half-asked, half-pointed out again.

Another nod. I felt another touch, as if rewarding me for agreeing.

“And being hypnotized in particular is something you find very exciting.”

Yet another nod. My cock seemed almost ready to burst as I felt her probe it again.

“I admit, Derek, I have encountered enthusiasts of, shall we say, ‘recreational’ hypnosis before. They seek me out quite often, in fact, and are usually quite a nuisance. But your case is far more fascinating. None of the individuals I have encountered as intrinsically open to suggestion as you appear to be.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, eyes still locked in her dark pupils.

“I say so because it is true. Look down.”

Her foot was not, in fact, resting in my lap—it was resting squarely on my knee, and I suddenly realized it had been there the whole time. She had not been teasing my erection—at least not directly.

“My foot is not where you believed it to be,” she said, with that same pseudo-questioning tone. The look on her face was one of patient amusement with a mix of fondness; the kind of face I picture her making when a confused student finally grasps something.

“No,” I replied, stating what she clearly already knew I would say.

I felt my face flush, and shook my head slowly. I was like putty in her hands.

“You experienced my foot as being here, instead?”

As I watched, she slowly and exactingly lifted her foot, and shifted it right to the middle of my lap, her toes ever so slightly resting against my head and shaft with only my thin gym shorts and her sock in between. I could feel the warmth of her skin through both. She might even have been able to feel my pulse, I was throbbing so hard.

“Yes,” I answered, gasping slightly and suppressing a moan, staring at her like a deer in swiftly-approaching headlights.

“And what else did you experience?”

“I felt....I felt your foot pressing against me,” I muttered, haltingly.

“You felt...this?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow, and nodding for me to look down.

Slowly, deliberately, she pressed her foot against my rigid cock, and wiggled her toes slightly, feeling the firmness of my shaft. It felt like before, only somehow much more real, and 10 times more intense. I almost lost it, breath catching in my throat, as I tried to keep from shooting my load right then and there. Struggling to regain some composure, I nodded.

“Do you see how easily your mind created that experience for you, without even a single word instructing you to do so?”

I nodded again, slowly, dumbfounded, yet quivering with arousal.

“That level of responsiveness is highly unusual. A person can spend years trying to attain that, I have found that in longitudinal studies I have conducted myself. And yet, it comes so easily and naturally to you—at least under certain circumstances. I find this very intriguing, both intellectually, as well as, shall we say, interpersonally.”

She stared at me in silence for a moment.

“I imagine that being told what a uniquely receptive and suggestible subject you can be has the effect of arousing you even more. Yes?”

“Yes,” I sputtered out, nodding vigorously. I couldn’t tell if she rubbed my cock again as I said it, or if it was just the motion of my body trembling.

“Yes, of course,” she nodded. “That is entirely to be expected, given your unique predilections. And for reasons that are surely related to that, the mere suggestion of things can very easily cause you to experience them. For example, I think we are both acutely aware that if I instructed you to orgasm, you would no doubt find it very easy to do so right now.”

The trembling stopped. The tension of her warmth against my cock stopped. Time itself seemed to stop. I was helpless, knowing she was entirely right. Even just hearing the way she said the word ‘orgasm’ was enough to stop me in my tracks.

“However, as pleasurable as that possibly might be, this is surely not an appropriate time or place for it. Would you not agree?”

I nodded again, left stunned and speechless. She gingerly extracted the one foot from my lap, and the other foot from my hands.

“Good. It seems we are clear, then.” And with that abrupt remark, she gathered her shoes and stood up, with a cryptic but almost whimsical grin.

“I hope you have a pleasant weekend, Derek. I will see you next week.”

I watched her leave, her long legs elegantly carrying her into the passage to the women’s locker room, then around the corner and out of sight. As I stood up, still reeling, still trying to gather my thoughts, I felt something heavy in my pocket. Lauren’s watch.

That afternoon, Lauren came by my apartment, and I returned the pocketwatch to her. There was no way I could get around telling her why Dr. Einschlafern had returned it to me on a random Saturday morning. So, I decided to just be completely honest about what had happened. I told Lauren how I had run into her supervisor at the gym, and that she had given the watch to me to return—and also, that she had hypnotized me, and proceeded to tease me into a state of extreme arousal, and even touch my erection. It would have been a thoroughly terrifying conversation, except that I felt pretty sure I had been completely helpless at every step of the way. To my great surprise, Lauren took it all in stride, scarcely batting an eye. At last, I finished the narration, and looked at her expectantly.

“So....what are you saying? That my professor was, like, coming on to you?”

“Yeah, I guess I am saying that.”

“Whoa.”

Lauren paused, and looked off into space, as if exploring a maze in her mind.

“Yeah,” she said, after a moment, “I can see how it would seem like that. But I think you’re reading too much into it. She’s only interested in you as a case study for her research. And there’s good reasons for that—you’re an unusual kind of subject that fits in exactly with what she’s been researching lately. I mean, she works on sexual arousal and cognitive processing, so of course it makes sense for her to make you aroused, to observe your reactions. Kind of like I did when I first started thinking about you as a potential subject. That’s just an unavoidable part of how you do this kind of research. So it makes sense, nothing to worry about.”

It sounded sensible enough, but I couldn’t shake the impression that Lauren was somehow being oddly defensive of her supervisor.

“How did this project even make it past the ethics board, anyway?”

“Are you kidding?” Lauren laughed, “Dr. Einschlafern told me the half the board members volunteered to be subjects before her hearing was over. They saw experiencing pleasurable sensations as the only potential risk to subjects, so it was nothing to worry about.”

“Huh.”

“I mean, it probably didn’t hurt that she had hypnotized most of them before.”

“What?!” Lauren giggled.

“Relax, honey, I’m just kidding. I don’t think she would do something like that.”

“Like hypnotize the ethics board and make them approve her research?”

“Right. Absolutely not. I mean, I guess it’s possible that one of two of them might have volunteered during the stage show they did at the all-faculty gala, and maybe she could have hypnotized them then. But that’s it, nothing inappropriate to get around the ethics code. That would get everyone in serious trouble, most of all her. And it would seriously undermine the research.”

“Has she ever hypnotized you?” I blurted out.

“Of course she has,” Lauren answered without the slightest hesitation. “She hypnotizes all her students in every class. Everyone in the department does, at least once. How would it make sense to really understand advanced psychology courses without ever demonstrating a trance state?”

My cock twitched. She must’ve felt it.

“Oh, is your mind going to detour off into fantasy-land now? You know, if you like the idea of her hypnotizing me, you really don’t need to hide it from me. It’s completely okay if you get a little excited thinking about it.”

“I do like it, it’s true.”

Lauren’s voice took on that oh so familiar sultry tone as she probed further.

“So in the back of your mind are you now, like, imagining me all deeply hypnotized?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I sighed. She could read me like an open book. With transparent paper.

“Oooh, how...scintillating!” she purred in my ear. “Am I going all glassy-eyed and mindless and suggestible? Blank and obedient? Captivated by her words and unable to resist?”

“Yeah.”

“You do of course know that when she hypnotizes me it’s not really like that, right?”

“Of course, I know—” I started to reply, but Lauren went on, cutting me off abruptly, scooting closer on the couch as she spoke.

“…BUT, since you seem to enjoy thinking about it so much, I will mention that she’s hypnotized me more than once.”

“Really?” My cock twitched a little more, starting to swell.

“Mm-hmm. It’s been lots of times, actually. She tells me I’m actually quite a good subject. Very suggestible, apparently. It’s part of what makes me so good at hypnotizing you.”

I groaned as she leaned in even closer to me, her hand snaking its way to the tent in my jeans as her soft lips found my ear.

“And you know what else I can tell you about when we do trance sessions? There’s something I think you’ll like.”

“What?” I sighed, the current of her voice already starting to wash me away.

“Whenever she hypnotizes me, I usually take my shoes off to get nice and comfy. I sit there in her office in just my cute little white socks, listening to her voice, giving in to the pleasurable feeling of going deep into trance.”

I stifled a gasp as she freed my erect cock, and it sprang loose, almost as if longing for her touch.

“You know exactly what that’s like, don’t you, Derek? Giving in to the pleasure of trance?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, not sure if that was an answer that even matched her question.

“Still, I don’t think going into trance is quite as pleasurable for me as it is for you. Because when I go under, I don’t automatically find myself so aroused that the only word that comes to mind is ‘Yeah’. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah...” I breathed, voice quavering. The fingers of one hand delicately traced up and down my shaft, and the other hand traced the same line from my temple to chin. Both sent shivers running down my spine.

I wasn’t sure when exactly my eyes had closed, or how long I had been drifting in the pleasure of her voice. But, a few pleasantly blurry moments later, I was inside Mistress Lauren, thrusting hard and deep from behind as she spurred me on, her eyes blissfully closed, mouth agape—the absolute platonic image of sexual satisfaction. Try as I might to lose myself completely in the moment, though, I couldn’t shake the image of the night before out of my head, the picture of her deep in trance, in that recliner in the lab, mindlessly orgasming over and over again, as the hypnotic doctor looked on through the window. Almost as if she was admiring her handiwork...