The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When Denise returned we continued to talk and Carol remained silent. Finally, I turned to her and asked, “Carol, are you OK? You haven’t made a peep for the past half hour. Are you embarrassed about what you talked about?”

“Oh, yes, I’m just fine,” she lied. “Well, yes, a little embarrassed, but not too bad. It’s just that...” she paused.

I probed her quickly and found her mind in great turmoil. Applying a little soothing relief, both mentally and verbally, I said, “That’s OK. You don’t have to say any more. You can just sit and sip your wine.”

“No, no,” she responded quickly, “I want to talk about it. I need to. It’s just that remembering my eighteenth birthday brings back some fearful memories.”

“Of what,” I asked quizzically. I once again implanted a desire for her to be completely open and honest with me.

“Well...” She paused for several seconds, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. “Three days after my eighteenth birthday, I was raped.”

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry,” I said soothingly. “You poor thing. You don’t need to say any more.”

“No, I want to talk about it. I need to talk about it. I need to tell someone the truth about what happened,” she confessed. “I know something happened, but I just can’t remember.”

She was very agitated, gripping the arm of the couch till her knuckles were almost white.

“Well,” I soothed, “tell us what you can remember, then.”

“It’s all so confusing... I was walking home from cheerleading practice when a couple of guys pulled up in a red van and asked if I wanted a ride. I was really tired from practice and knew I had a long walk ahead of me, and they were really cute, so I said OK.”

Carol paused again for a long time. “From there, everything’s all fuzzy,” she confessed. “It’s like a thick black cottony cloud.”

She started to sob lightly.

‘Thick cottony cloud!’ I thought. This surely is the event I saw in her mind!

“Carol,” I said quietly, " just close your eyes and relax, I’m going to try something. I’ve had some training in this and I think I know how we can break out of this memory block. Just trust me. Denise is right here next to you and she won’t let me do anything that would hurt you,” I assured her.

Moving over behind the couch she was sitting on, I lightly placed my hands on the side of her head placing my baby fingers directly on her temples I massaged her head lightly and focused on her thoughts. I wandered through her memories again until I found the black fuzzy shroud. As I studied it, I looked at it closely, deeper and deeper until I saw it. Yes, there it was, the tell-tale sign of outside intervention. Natural memory fade is uniform, like a fog or like a picture that has gone greatly out of focus until everything is a uniform blur, but artificial memory block is fibrous, like cotton. As you try to fight against it, it vibrates, making the fibers indistinct.

“Try to relax your mind, Carol,” I soothed. This might hurt a little bit but I’ll be as gentle as I can. Take deep breaths. Breath in strength and breath out stress and tension. Strength in... tension out. Strength in... tension out. Strength in... tension out. I pressed a little harder against her temples with each breath. Strength in... tension out. Strength in... tension out. As she continued to breath and relax the fibers slowed their vibration and they became more distinct.

“You might feel a slight sting now, but don’t tighten up, just continue to relax.”

Focusing my mental energy into a very sharp point I zeroed in on one of the fibers. I knew that if I could penetrate just one of the fibers that they would all be weakened, trying to repair the penetration and this could give her enough advantage to break the strangle hold it had on her memory. I moved in closer and closer to the target fiber. It was barely moving now. As it swayed back and forth I timed my attack to catch it at one end of its excursion. Slowly it came to one side. I waited, waited, waited, then I attacked, poking the fiber dead center, splitting it open.

“Ow,” she said softly, “that hurt.”

I watched the fiber curl up and start to atrophy. As it did, an opening started to appear in the fuzz.

Taking my hands away from her head I said, “Now, Carol, what happened when you got into the van.”

“When they opened the door,” she started slowly, " I noticed that there were no seats in the back, just carpet on the floor.”

“Good... good, keep going,” I encouraged.

“As soon as the door closed something happened.” She paused and closed her eyes tightly forcing her way through the black haze.

“What happened, Carol,” I probed. “What happened when the door closed?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” she said almost pleading.

I returned to my seat and waited for a few seconds before continuing.

“That’s okay, take it slow,” I said in almost a whisper. “Try to remember what happened when you stepped into the van.”

“I got in the van...the door closed behind me and I couldn’t see for a second because it was dark...” She paused again.

“That’s it,” I whispered encouragingly. “You got in the van, the door closed, it was very dark, and...”

“Yes, yes... I remember now,” she said suddenly. “One of the boys grabbed me... and he put his hand over my mouth... The other one grabbed my hands pulling them behind me and handcuffed them behind my back.”

“I remember, I remember, she shouted. “They stuffed a sock in my mouth and tied a rag around my head so I couldn’t talk then they pushed me down on my back and tied my feet to the two front seats with my legs open.” Then she suddenly stopped again.

“It’s okay, Carol, you can go on.”

“I don’t think I want to,” she replied. “It’s scary.”

As I probed her memory I saw that the Black cottony substance was fading rapidly but the hard spiney shell was still there.

“You were afraid, weren’t you,” I soothed. “Afraid they were going to really hurt you.”

“Yes,” she responded, “I thought they were going to rape me and kill me.”

“Please, don’t make me do this,” she pleaded

I looked at the hard shell again and noticed that the spikes were longer now. That was the fear exerting its strength. But as they grew, I saw the deep purple glow get a little brighter as if the shell was getting thinner and the stronger emotion inside was starting to shine through. That’s when I recognized the color. It was passion, sexual excitement.

“But they didn’t kill you,” I assured her. “If they had, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You were very scared but you were also turned-on... sexually excited, weren’t you?” I asked quietly.

“Yeesssss,” she said slowly like a low moan. “My... skirt... was bunched up around my waist... and they were both staring at my panties.”

“I was scared but I was also very turned on.”

As I mentally watched, the thick shiny shell burst apart and the bright purple light blasted its way through, appearing almost white, it was so bright.

“Yes, yes, I remember now, I remember!” she exclaimed and the flood gates opened. “There I was, tied up, with my legs spread wide and my hands bound behind me so I couldn’t do anything about it, with them staring at my panties. I started to feel real warm all over and my pussy started to tingle. As they drove off, the boy in the passenger seat kept looking at my panties. I was so turned on, in fact, that my panties started to get wet. When the boy in the passenger seat saw that, he made some comment about me being so scared that I pissed my panties. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife and cut my panties off of me. The driver, an older boy, took my panties and put them up to his nose and smelled them. He told the first boy that I wasn’t scared, I was horny.”

With emotion in her voice something akin to excitement and release, she continued, “He was right, I was really turned-on. I wanted them to look at my panties. I wanted them to look at my pussy. I remember now, the car turned onto a gravel road and after a few minutes the car stopped and both boys got out of their seats and got in the back with me. Then they started feeling my pussy and my tits. It felt soooo good. They took off the gag and warned me that if I screamed they would really hurt me and since we were in the middle of the woods, no one would hear me anyway. The only screaming I would have done just then would have been an orgasmic scream. Then the boy with the knife grabbed my sweater and was going to cut it off of me, but I told them that if they promised not to hurt me I would do anything they wanted, anything at all. They looked at each other in disbelief and said ‘okay,’ but they told me that if I tried anything funny I would really regret it. They uncuffed my hands and told me to take my sweater off. When I did, they both just stared at my breasts.”

“And that really embarrassed you,” I interjected.

“No,” she said emphatically. “Well, yes, a little. But it made me even hornier. I wanted them to look at them, so I took off my bra while they both just stared. The older boy was rubbing his penis with his hand while he looked at my breasts and my pussy. Finally one of them reached out and started squeezing my breasts telling me that I had really nice tits. I leaned back on my hands and closed my eyes as he felt me up. When I opened my eyes the other guy had his pants off and his dick was pointing straight at me.

‘You wanna suck my cock, slut?’ he asked and I said ‘Hell, yes, give it to me!’ He knelt between the two front seats, right in front of my outstreached legs and the other boy pushed me forward until my face was right in front of this big hard penis. The boy in front of me leaned in real close and said that if I bit him he would cut off my tits with his knife. I assured him that I had no intention of biting then I opened my mouth and stated sucking. Fortunately I had lots of practice with my plastic penis. The boy behind me reached around and played with my breasts and my pussy while I sucked. All of a sudden the penis in my mouth started squirting and I swallowed it as fast as I could. It tasted a little salty but really good! As soon as he started shooting I had an orgasm of my own. Then they traded places and I sucked the other boy’s penis until he came in my mouth.

When they were finished, they put a blindfold on me and tied my hands with some rope. Then they untied my feet and got me out of the van. ‘Look at them tits in the sunlight, man,’ one of them said. ‘Yeah,’ the other guy said, ‘let’s see what she looks like naked in the sunlight.’ Then they unfastened my skirt and took it off.”

“How did that make you feel,” I asked.

“I was so excited. I think I had another orgasm just standing there with nothing on but a blindfold, my hands tied behind my back and two boys staring at me. They put their hands on me again and felt up my breasts and butt and pussy.

Then one of them said, ‘Hey, man, we gotta get going.’

‘Yeah, but before we do,’ the other one said, ‘we gotta get a couple of Polaroid’s of this.’ He said, ‘Say cheese!’ and I heard the camera shutter click. They took several pictures from different angles then they jumped in the van and just drove off.

By the time I got my hands untied, they were long gone and I was standing there on a dirt road, in the middle of the woods, totally naked, except for my shoes, and that’s when I got really scared. I didn’t know where I was or how to get home. I looked both ways down the road and finally saw something lying by the side of it. As I walked up to it I discovered that it was my skirt. I shook the dust off of it and put it on, then I saw my sweater a little further down the road. I figured they must have thrown them out of the window as they drove off, so this must be the way home. I never did find my bra and panties.

As I walked down the road, I replayed the scenes of the past half hour. I felt really ashamed, not because of what I had done but because I had really liked it. Mom had said that sex with boys was bad and these guy had just forced me to do it with them... sort of... well, not really. I loved it when they made me expose myself to them and made me suck them off. I knew I would have to tell my mom something eventually but I couldn’t tell her that I liked it or she would blame me for the whole thing and call me a boy crazy slut. I just didn’t know what to do. Several miles down the road I came to a highway. I recognized it as the highway that goes through town. Cars were passing by in both directions but nobody stopped. I started waiving my hands at the next car, which slowed down and pulled over. The man rolled down the passenger side window and asked me if I needed help. I told him that I needed a ride into town and he said to hop in. As we drove into town he kept looking at my breasts jiggling under the sweater. He never said a word, just kept looking over at my breasts. He dropped me off in town and drove off.”

Carol leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed and breathed a huge sigh of release. “I did it,” she said firmly. “I finally remembered. Thank you, Al. Thank you for helping me remember what really happened. I didn’t get raped. It may have started out that way, but I enjoyed it, even encouraged it. I didn’t get raped! Oh, what a relief!”

“But, wait,” she said suddenly then stopped. Obviously she was trying to figure something out.

“If I didn’t get raped, why did I believe that I did all these years?” she pondered. Suddenly another light bulb went on.

“The therapist,” she said accusingly. “My therapist told me that I got raped. She’s also the one who told me not to remember what happened in the van. Why would she do that? Why would she try to make me forget about such a wonderful experience and make me believe that I got raped?”

“Excuse, me,” I interjected. “But now I have to go to the bathroom.”