The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For about a week, whenever someone knocked on the door, Jennifer would automatically think it was Mark. She would slowly slide to the door, preparing herself for his face, her mind furiously trying to figure out what to say. And then she would open the door, and it would be Amy, or Darlene after forgetting her key, or someone else, and Jennifer would feel a strange double feeling, let-down and relieved, all at the same time. And then, one day, she opened the door without even thinking that it might be Mark. It wasn’t, and soon she stopped expecting him.

Francisco asked her out again, and she found herself making an excuse, telling him she really needed to study in the library, and she was sorry but maybe another time. She did it instinctively, not particularly sure why at the time except that she really didn’t FEEL like it. Afterwards, she probed her mind, to decide on the real reason she didn’t want to go out with him. About the best she could come up with was that he didn’t excite her that much; she had first approached her as a target for one of Mark’s games, and she wasn’t sure she could think of him as anything else.

What if Mark really was gone? What if she had really seen the last of him? Could she go back to her normal life again? Jennifer honestly didn’t know. She had been in complete control of her life before he came, in control of all things: herself, her social life, her studies. She could pretty easily get back in control of her social life; it was all a matter of telling Francisco that she wanted to take it slower, and then letting things run as before, with her not doing anything she didn’t feel like. If Francisco didn’t like that, well, it was all right; Jennifer didn’t need him anyway. She wasn’t like Darlene. She really didn’t feel any need to have a boyfriend. School was also no problem. Her study habits had been suffering from distraction, but without Mark, she thought that would soon fade.

But what about herself? Mark had awakened something in Jennifer, a certain restlessness. A desire to rush into things against her better judgement. A desire to lose control. She was addicted to the feeling, the I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this feeling. He had addicted her to it. It was like a beer commercial she had seen as a freshman in high school. It was a typical commercial, filled with happy beautiful people, but the image that had caught Jennifer’s mind was of a pretty dark-haired lady in a silver dress, letting herself be pulled down a hallway. Apparently, she was going to some party; at least that’s the way she was made up. A handsome man was pulling her along behind him, and as they rushed down the hall, the lady turned and smiled at the camera. At Jennifer. And her smile seemed to say, I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I’m sure we’ll have a great time once we get there. Jennifer had been enchanted by the image at the time, but hadn’t been able to figure out exactly why until she had met Mark.

Submissiveness. The word itself was nasty, something Jennifer had been trained all her life to reject. Never let yourself be cowed, her father had told her. You can have anything you want as long as you don’t let anything stand in your way. For years, she had approached all things with this attitude. All things including sex.

But with Mark she discovered a strange paradox; even while she was submitting to his words, she had power over him. The lines between submission and domination were blurred, and he was almost as much a slave to her actions as she was to his commands. In the end, it didn’t feel so much like she was giving him control, it felt more like she was completely losing all control, giving her puppet-strings to her body and its desires, and letting it run rampant. For a young girl who had made certain she was completely in control all her life, it was a very different feeling. Not necessarily a good feeling, but a very tempting one.

And then came Tuesday night. She was lying in bed, tossing and turning, not able to sleep. It was late, and Darlene was sleeping soundly beside her, but Jennifer just couldn’t sleep. She felt that feeling in her body. A desire to let herself lose control, and act against her better judgement. To go and do something absolutely insane. Something she would never think of doing if she was thinking clearly. To fight against it was a losing battle from the beginning. But she tried. Tried and failed.

She got dressed in the dark, quietly so she wouldn’t wake Darlene. And all the time she was thinking to herself: why am I doing this? This is absolutely mad! But she seemed powerless to stop the feeling within her. To go to sleep at that point would have been anticlimactic.

She slipped on a jacket, and was out the door.

The dorm was dark and quiet, except for a few insomniacs watching t.v. in the lobby. Jennifer slipped out the door without them seeing her. It was cold outside, and she shivered. Last chance to back out, she thought, but she couldn’t and knew it. The farther she went, the more it seemed like a crime to turn back. She walked out from the dorm.

Her mind was dancing crazily from one thought to the next, noticing every detail around her. The night seemed alive, somehow more vibrant than before. Or maybe she was just more sensitive to it. Part of her was scared, of the dark and those who hid within it, but that part was suppressed by a sense of destiny. She felt like she was no longer in control of her actions, like her mind was the prisoner of her body, and her body was being pulled along by some force unknown to her. Without being fully aware of where she was going, she soon found herself at the pond between the schools two administration buildings. It was an artificially created pond, stocked with green water lilies and millions of tiny guppies. At night, small lights on the side of the pond gave the whole area a hazy white surreal glow. Jennifer stood in this glow for a moment, trembling, looking down at the pond.

It penetrated her trance that she was also illuminated in the glow, and, still not understanding what she intended to do, she glanced around nervously, then headed over to the rocks on the right side of the pond. They served as a back drop to the entire pond, a wall of gradually ascending rocks that rose behind it to tower beside the adminstration building. Jennifer scrambled up onto a low rock, then climbed onto the next highest rock, until she was behind the pond on a platform of rock, about eight feet over the surface of the water. The platform was big enough that she could sit down, and she did, her back pressed against the rough rock behind her. She trembled, and it was more than the chill of the night. She was in the shadows, and was content that she wasn’t that visible from below. But she still shivered. Now came the big step, and she wasn’t sure she could really go through with it.

But a delirious feeling of daring and anticipation rushed through her as she contemplated it. She breathed deeply, and started to untie her shoes. They don’t make a difference, she thought. I’m still decent if they’re off.

But soon they were off, and so were her socks, and the anticipation was soaring and plunging through her. She looked around, making sure for one last time that no one was spying on her. Then, her fingers trembling, she unsnapped her jeans.

She took them off slowly, awkwardly, and the wind rushed in to embrace her bare legs. Her breathing was fast and nervous, and she tried to sooth her frightened mind. No one is here, she told herself. No one can see you. Her fingers ran against the fabric of her panties, rubbing against the rough lace. Now she was indecent. You couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t matter. She traced the line of her slit through the cloth, and felt a shot of momentary pleasure until it was washed away by the cold fear that she was being watched. She glanced around. No one. Just paranoia.

She pulled off her jacket, and put it in the growing stack of clothes. Her fingers gripped the edge of her t-shirt. This was it. No bra underneath to hide her. Once this was off, she was officially naked. She held her breath and slipped it off.

The feeling was incredible! Both the night on her nude body, and the rush that went through her soul. I’m actually doing this! she kept thinking to herself, over and over. She pressed against the rock behind her, the rough stone digging into her bare back, and she looked in wonder at her naked breasts jutting out from her body, open to the night.

Her panties joined the pile of clothes, and she sat, shivering, feeling the cold stone against her butt. She pulled her legs to her, squeezing them, running her fingers from her ankles to her thighs, as if making sure she was actually bare. Her legs felt long and smooth, and Jennifer extended them away from her. This increased her feeling of exposure, and her mind fought between fear and thrill. Her pubic triangle was dark in the shadow, and she slipped her finger along the rough strands of hair. To be REALLY exposed, a voice in the back of her head reminded her, you would have to spread your legs. After all, that’s the classic position of the decadent woman. Jennifer, trembling, started to scissor open her legs. But no, if she really wanted to do it, she would have to turn and face the pond. That way, anyone who stood there and faced the right direction would be able to look right at her pussy.

She inched around ninety degrees, and pressed her back against the concrete wall of the administration building. My god, I’m crazy, she thought. Mark’s gone, but that doesn’t matter, I’ve got him now in my head, telling me things to do. For some reason, this thought struck her as funny, and she fought off a giggle. 3, 2, 1, go for it, Jenn. And she pulled open her legs, spreading them before the world.

A couple seconds, while she looked around dazed, making sure no one was actually watching her. Then she let her gaze fall downward, and her heartbeat raced to see her exposed slit. She closed her eyes, and let her hand fall between her legs, probing herself. She was still pretty dry, but that was all right, it was hard to get turned on in the cold, and the thrill she felt was more than sexual. She dug her finger as far in herself as she could, then slowly moved it around, feeling the soft warmth both around her and within her. Her thumb brushed against her clit, sending small, cold bursts of pleasure through her. It would be impossible to masturbate to any sort of peak; she was just too cold and nervous to even fake it. Instead, she pressed her hand against her pussy, feeling the soft contours of it against her palm, caressing it gently in a nervous massage.

What now? She looked uneasily down into the pond. The water looked cold, and she wasn’t sure she could actually go through with it. What if someone saw her? Jennifer pulled back into the shadows, squeezing her arms against her breasts. It felt strange, to feel the bare tips of her nipples against her arms; she was used to the fabric. Once more, she looked down into the pond, into the lightly illuminated depths. She thought about her naked body wet and gleaming in the flourescent lights. An image of herself standing knee-deep, like a water nymph, wet and innocent, while trickles of pond water dripped down her breasts and jumped off her nipples. Then she thought about herself, wet, cold, and vulnerable, captured in the glowing lights. I can’t, she thought. It’s just too much.

But now, once her clothes were off, she almost couldn’t bring herself to put them back on. She wanted to enjoy her nakedness as long as she could. The stars were twinkling in a relatively clear sky above her, and Jennifer leaned back against the rock wall and watched them. All the while, she felt the cold night goosebumping her skin.

Finally, paranoia struck her, more than before. She thought she heard rustling. Maybe a security guard. Maybe a psycho. She scrambled back into her clothes, and was off into the night like a thief.

The walk back was numb in her mind, passing before she realized it, and she found herself settled in bed, hot and sweating despite the cool night air, her heart beating furiously underneath the covers. I can’t believe I just did that, she thought. And she felt the rush.

And so Jennifer didn’t know what to do anymore. Mark had left her, but he was not completely gone from her life. His voice still spoke in her head, the voice of temptation, telling her things she shouldn’t do, making her think about doing them.

And then, two weeks after she had last seen him, on the friday night she might have spent with Francisco if she had wanted, Jennifer opened the door, and there was Mark. It was three days after her night escapade. She hadn’t expected to see Mark. Yet there he was.

She regarded him with shock. She had told herself she might never see him again, but had never really believed it. And here he was. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and his eyes were dull. As Jennifer looked at him, she felt something twinge inside her, like someone had tapped her heart with an icicle, and she wished he would grin his confident grin. The way he looked... he looked like a haunted man. Like someone who had been thinking a little too much.

“Mark.” she said. “I was wondering if I would see you again.”

“Did you want to?” he asked quietly. She could almost barely hear him.

“Where did you go? I looked for you afterwards...” she let her voice fade, hoping he would supply the rest.

He did not. She heard him speak, felt his power catching hold of her, and she realized what he was saying a split-second before he completed his statement. “Jennifer, forget me.” She opened her mouth to protest, to cry out and make him stop before he could finish.

And then she found herself faced with a strange man. His eyes stared at her with an uncomfortable intensity, and they were filled with pain. She wondered why. “Can I help you?” she asked him. Maybe he was one of Darlene’s friends.

“No. No, I’m sorry.” his voice was trembling. “I must have the wrong room. Sorry to bother you.” And he turned to walk off. His shoulders were hunched, and Jennifer watched him go with curiousity. A strange man... yet he looked... familiar?

She felt depressed for some reason. She felt like she was losing something, but couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe it was because of the guy. He had seemed depressed, maybe it was rubbing off on her.

Jennifer shrugged and went back to her desk. Her mind kept returning to the man’s face, and how familiar he seemed. But try as she might, she couldn’t place him. Finally, she gave up, and returned to studying.