The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Every once in a while you have a moment of clarity that eclipses everything around you. In this case, it was a key to a puzzle that, well, I didn’t even know was a puzzle. Kinda like the ending to that Hitchcock movie ‘Vertigo’, where you didn’t even know there was any other way to look at things until you’re presented with the new alternative, the final piece of information.

My name is Nicole, and six months ago I was in the greatest relationship of my life. Her name is Christine, and we met at Kaines University. We aren’t students here, I think back when I was actually in college I was too young to know what real love was even if it was sitting in my lap. But now that I’m older, and past the clichés of youth, I identified that what I had with Christine as the genuine article.

Christine worked as an assistant in the computer lab. She did the day to day maintenance on the machines to keep them up to date and virus free. It was frustrating work because the kids were constantly downloading crap they wouldn’t dream of running at home. She had amazing patience though, more than I would have. Of course it helps that she’s a lot more computer literate than I am. I work in the admissions office just doing routine stuff. People I can deal with. Technology, I always left that to Chris.

We met at a bar just off campus. Neither of us really thinking this random encounter would lead to anything. We clicked though, and went home together that night. Turns out that neither of us had ever had a one night stand, and both of us kinda expected this to be it. But when I discovered that she could lick a girl like no one had ever licked me before, well, I resolved myself not to let this just be a one night thing. After that, our lust turned to passion, and passion easily turned to love.

Four months after that night she moved in with me. We kept our relationship on the down low. Well, we didn’t really go to great lengths to hide it, mostly we just didn’t hook up at the school because neither of us wanted to deal with the awkwardness of being openly gay at a somewhat stuffy university. Its one thing to be gay, its another to be dating someone you work with and seemingly ‘flaunting’ it. So we were mindful.

That worked to my advantage later.

Still, I’m sure people had their suspicions. Every once in a while when she came into the office, we’d share a little smile, and I’d catch myself just staring. If anyone else saw the look on my face it would be unmistakable. And whenever I had a computer problem, it never lasted long, and a single fresh flower in a bud vase next to the monitor let me know just who takes care of me.

But back to the point, about six months ago Chris started behaving a little weird. It wasn’t something I picked up on right away. I attributed it to stress, frustration, maybe it was me. In relationships we always blame ourselves first. So by the time I tried to address the problem, it was already beyond my ability to do anything. She had drifted away from me, and eventually packed her things and moved out. She left her job at the school, and gave me a kind, but distanced, good-bye. I also just figured that us working in the same place would be uncomfortable for her, so I let it go. After she was gone, the significance of our relationship dawned on me more and more. And I started to play the last weeks in my head over and over, as people tend to do when they’re dumped and don’t completely understand the reasons. As I did so, I had a nagging feeling that something just wasn’t right, but couldn’t put my finger on it.

Finding out about Braddock put everything in perspective.

Dr. Braddock was a professor of psychology at Kaines. He knew his stuff backwards and forwards. His paper on ‘Diminishing Passive-Aggressive Behavior in Troubled Children with Hypnotherapy’ earned him tenure at the school, and some expected nicknames from the students. But no one ever doubted his ability, even though people still looked at him sideways whenever he passed by. There was just something about him that was off putting. There are so many brilliant professors at the university though that don’t always know how to interact with normal people, that one more eccentric professor didn’t stand out.

I remembered though that Christine had asked me about Braddock in the weeks before she left. She casually asked me if I knew anything about him. He had started spending more time in the computer lab and Christine was as put off by him as everyone else. As the days went by though, she started talking about him in a more upbeat way. I assumed that he was just a nice guy if you got to know him.

It turns out that he was let go from the university for seducing one of his students. That rung a bell in my head and I looked into the matter more closely. Termination papers are kept in the strictest of confidence, but with something like this, people like to talk, and gossip is the drug of the office woman. The student that made the claim said that she didn’t remember how she had ended up with the Doctor, one moment she was alone in the computer lab, and the next she was stark naked getting pounded from behind. She protested, but he wouldn’t let her go. Eventually she escaped and went straight to the authorities.

That was enough information to set me on his trail. I got his address from school records, and like a b-movie detective, I staked out his house at night after work. I followed him to various places, the grocery store, coffee house, and around. His house was a mystery though. It was a nice brownstone end unit in a fairly nice quiet neighborhood. But even though the weather was turning to a perfect fall chill, his shades were never open.

After following him for weeks, I finally worked up the courage to go to the coffee house that he frequented watched him from across the room. He had much more charisma here than he ever did at the school. Watching him, his movements and how he approached women, he was almost charming – in a creepy predatorial way.

I pretended to read my book and sip my latte while I kept an eye on Braddock. He had moved over to a very pretty brunette that I had actually been admiring myself. He struck up conversation with her, and after a while he was talking to her very closely in what seemed like hushed tones. Shortly thereafter she seemed to stop replying altogether and just nodded her head occasionally. I spent the next half hour re-reading the same page as he whispered sweet nothings in this girl’s ear. Finally the two of them got up together and walked out to his car. One of the things I noticed about this girl when she came in was her walk. She had on gorgeous calf-high boots and was totally working it. Her head was up, and she had the air of someone who knows she’s hot. When she left with Braddock though, the spark seemed to have gone out of her. She walked just fine, but there was no spring in her step, she didn’t look at anything as she left, just kept her head facing forward and walked like she wasn’t part of the world around her anymore.

I watched them get in his car together, but I didn’t follow. The place wasn’t very crowded, and it would have been obvious if I left immediately after.

That night I mulled over what I had seen. The girl that Braddock left with was definitely different than the woman who came into the café. I wracked my brain trying to understand it, but couldn’t. Finally, lying down in bed I had one thought pop into head that didn’t seem right, but also seemed perfect – he had somehow hypnotized her. But that’s all a load of crap right? Someone can’t be hypnotized in an hour, in a noisy public café with everyone around, and then led like a sleepwalker out to a stranger’s car and swept off into the night? Its ridiculous. But at the same time, it was the only explanation I could come up with that fit all the facts.

Over the next week I spent time at work that I should have been working, researching hypnosis online. There was a ton of information out there, and it took me a day just to weed out the nonsense from the useful information. But then again, that’s what happens when you just type “hypnosis” into Google and hit go.

I learned a lot. I learned that it can take as little as five minutes to hypnotize someone if the subject is willing and the hypnotist is skilled. Considering the study that got him in the door, I figured Braddock is probably well skilled, and that he’d been honing those skills for quite some time now.

I spent yet another week reading more technical information about hypnosis, the tricks of the trade, what someone has to do to be hypnotized, and whatever information I could find. I was going to face this man, and I wasn’t going to fall for his parlor tricks.

Three weeks after I saw Braddock leave the coffee house with the cute brunette, I was back and on the prowl. I hung out there every night with a latte and a book, waiting for that low life to return and for him to notice me. It only took a few days for him to see that I was a regular and make a pass at me. I didn’t expect him to recognize me in the least, since Chris and I did keep our relationship secret.

As expected, he was charming, if I was into guys he may very well have swept me off my feet. He asked me about what I was reading, and with deft skill he manipulated me into an intimate conversation where he did most of the talking. His segue into his hypnotic induction was so flawless that if I hadn’t been specifically on the look out for it, I would have completely missed it. I had no doubt he was good, but he was probably better than I was expecting. I was wondering if I had gotten in over my head, at the same time I was being vigilant to maintain my awareness. I’m no actress, but I did my best to feign being hypnotized. It worked, and after less than an hour (he must have thought I was easy), he told me to follow him to his car. I remembered what the brunette had looked like and mimicked her apathetic appearance.

Braddock continued to (try to) deepen his induction during the car ride, I continued to resist and pretend not to. I assumed we were going to go back to his place, but instead we just went to an empty parking lot. How adolescent is that? He parked, and I had to decide exactly how far I was willing to go with this. Of course, I was already in his car, in an abandoned parking lot, so I had pretty much crossed the point of no return about thirty minutes ago. Braddock continued to try and deepen the trance, and used feelers to see how compliant I was. He had me unbutton my top, and then take off my bra. I’ve never been overly shy, so I went along. I almost blew the whole deal when he started fondling my tits. I totally didn’t see it coming, at the shock of it, I almost recoiled, but in effect it actually brought me back to attention. At the same time it took part of his attention away.

He played with my tits for a short time and then gave me an ‘activation phrase’ and asked for my phone number. I gave him my cell number so he couldn’t track my home. After that, he drove me back to the coffee house, talking the whole way, and me resisting all the while.

When he dropped me off and drove away, I ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I was a torrent of emotion. What had I gotten myself into? I let some fucking asshole fondle me while I sat there and pretended it was ok. What I should have done is grabbed him by the balls and forced him to tell me what he’d done with my Christine. But I knew that really wouldn’t work. He’s had half a year to sink his nasty tendrils into her and who knew what he could have her do if he was found out and taken by the police. I had to get inside his world and try to free her myself. Grab her and run away someplace that he could never find us.

I went home, and after hours of staring at the ceiling, finally fell into a tenuous sleep. I woke with a start the next morning from a disturbing dream that didn’t fade fast enough. I was at the coffee house with Christine, but she was ignoring me. When she turned to face me, her eyes were totally white, like there was nobody home. She leaned in and kissed me, she rubbed my tits, and when she pulled away, she wasn’t Christine, she was Braddock, and he was whispering my activation phrase over and over.

I leapt out of bed and straight into a cold shower that barely doused the fire between my legs, but did nothing to make me feel any cleaner.

Braddock called me that same day. I hear girls complain a lot about how guys don’t call them back, or play games and wait a few days before they do. I wonder what it says about him that he calls right away? Well, he said my induction code phrase over the phone and I acted as if I was in a trance. He talked to me for a bit, and all the while I was kicking my toe into the wall so the pain would keep me focused. Finally he told me to meet him somewhere later that night and to pack a small overnight bag. This was it, I was going to make my way into the spider’s lair.

I packed my bag, and actually thought the process out a lot more than I normally would have. I bought a second cell phone, a really small one, and hid it in the bag. I took other precautions as well, like some no-doze to keep me awake and focused, and a trick that I prayed to heaven would actually work.

This time he did take me back to his place. And like the night before, even though I was overcome with dread, I had resolved myself to this course when I willingly got into his car. His modest brownstone was anything but modest on the inside. It was decadently decorated with too much gold trim and expensive looking dark wood. The whole thing looked like a bad Soprano’s set.

It was an older house that and creaked an moaned as people moved about upstairs. It was hard to tell, but judging by the sounds of people walking around there were maybe two or three other people upstairs. The place was also a lot bigger than it looked, with four levels, and immaculately clean. That was probably due to the girl in the tacky (and totally cliché) French maid’s outfit that came over to take his coat. She had the same look on her face as the girl from the coffee house a few weeks ago. Undoubtedly made to be hypnotically obedient to this dirtbag. It was also the same look I was doing my damnedest to approximate. Not just to keep up the charade, but to replace what would otherwise be a look of total disgust.

Braddock wasted no time bringing me up to a second floor room that was yet another cliché. This one was obviously his ‘sex room’. It had an oversized bed, a shelf full of deviant toys, and other sexual paraphernalia. He sat down on a couch and positioned me in front of him, then started back into his hypnotic routine. Trying to put me down and bring me back up to reinforce his ‘control.’ But forewarned is forearmed and I wasn’t going to be snared.

After about another 30 to 40 minutes of more induction, Braddock couldn’t wait any longer himself. His erection was obvious after just 10 minutes, and after 30 it must have been painful. From his induction, he was clearly ready to fuck my brains out and exert his control over me.

He ordered me to strip, and his own hard on was obvious. Not that he cared to try and hide it, why should he feel any discomfort in front of someone he assumed was his hypnotized play thing. I complied, again, but had another surprise for him. I stripped out of my top and bra, shed my jeans. When I dropped my panties to the floor his demeanor (if not his erection) totally deflated. Inside my plain white panties was a maxi-pad with enough red dye to look like I was in the middle of some very heavy flow.

At that Braddock recoiled a bit. This was not something he was expecting. And while a girl’s period is not always going to keep a guy from his goal, I was banking that with a harem of other girls to play with, he’d be willing to hold off a few days before molesting me.

My bluff paid off, and Braddock pulled his trousers back up. He wanted a fuck, thank god, because I don’t know what I would have done if he wanted a blow job. He had me redress and took me into another room. A bedroom, where I got a shock of my own.

Braddock left to attend to his own needs, and left me in what he thought was a complacent state of trance. Of course I was anything but. He wasn’t taking any chances though, and had one of his other girls come in and ‘keep me company’ while he went off and raped one of his other slaves in lieu of me. The person he left with me was none other than my goal, my love, my Christine.

I was finally alone with Christine. My Chris. Who didn’t dump me after all, but was lured away against her will, at least against her conscious will, and made to serve this man’s perverse sexual desires. I don’t even think he knew that she was gay when he took her, that she didn’t like men. If he did, it wasn’t likely much of a concern.

Chris looked at me, stared, and there was some recognition there. She wasn’t totally gone.

“Nicole.” She whispered. Like my name was coming to her from a great distance away. Like she wasn’t allowed to say it.

And she stared at me.

I walked closer, and she kept staring. She was every bit as pretty as I remembered her to be. Her hair and skin were flawless, but her beautiful green eyes were missing something. The spark of life, of joy that she always had was gone. Replaced with the dim sleepwalker daze that befitted all the women in this harem. My heart sank even lower. But beside my despair was my own joy, my hope and elation at seeing Christine again. I wanted nothing more than to hold her, to kiss her and tell her everything was going to be ok. That I was here for her.

I leaned in to kiss her, to finally kiss her again. Her eyes were focused on mine, never looking away, and I could feel her breath on my face. But as I moved the last few centimeters to touch her lips with mine, she pulled away. Slowly at first, like she was struggling, and then she recoiled. Pulled her head away and averted her eyes.

My knees buckled and eyes welled up. It was crushing beyond any anguish I had felt before.

Like when I had a thing for Jimmy Busiak in middle school, and when I tried to kiss him, he pulled away and had this look on his face, a similar look, that said “what the hell are you trying to do?” Only then, I didn’t have so much on the line.

Christine stepped back, her eyes still lowered, and said in a weak voice that reeked of submission, “I am only for the master.”

“No!” I cried from behind sobs. Trying at the same time to hold back my tears and keep her from leaving. I pleaded with my eyes, but hers would not respond. At this moment she was lost to me.

With that she turned and left. I dropped to my knees and cried. The first time I shed a single tear since this ordeal started, since I committed myself to this path. I cried and cried for what seemed like hours, though it was only maybe thirty minutes. I made a conscious effort to compose myself, but after the tears subsided, panic set in. Was Christine going to mention this? What would she say? How would I explain, or escape, or anything?

But that was just the thoughts that came with initial reaction of panic. Once I was able to calm down a bit I realized that Braddock didn’t care enough about his women to want them to initiate conversation with him. They only spoke when spoken to, and only offered information if asked a question. I was safe for the time being, but at the same time, another realization dawned on me. Getting Christine out of here was going to be far more difficult than I originally thought.

I wasn’t alone for much longer, Braddock returned after about an hour, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed doing my best blank stare impression. It wasn’t too hard, I was pretty disjointed from reality. Seeing Christine after all this time caused my heart to break all over again.

Braddock took me to another room on the third floor. This one was set up like an audio room. There was a big comfy looking chair in the middle and some big headphones hanging nearby. It only took me a moment to realize what this was about, if he couldn’t have me right now, he was probably skipping ahead to the process of bringing me completely into his fold. The headphones were probably meant to reinforce my trance and program me for whatever his warped brain had in mind. I hadn’t though to take a no-doze pill, but I did have a tack in my shoe so I could cause myself pain to pull out of any possible induction.

I was unfortunately right about the room, and Braddock sat me down and put the headphones over my ears. It was his voice, repeating most of what he’d already said to get me hear in the first place. “Relax, listen, obey, go deeper.” All the hypnotic formulas I’d read about. And here was where I used the counter measures I learned. I started to sing a song to myself, to override the words in my ears. Years ago for a class memory exercise I had to memorize Billy Joel’s “We didn’t start the fire.” I still knew it by heart, and the mostly disjointed lyrics were the perfect thing to sing to push the other words away. I visualized “Rockin’ Roller Cola Wars” and “Buddy Holley, Ben Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia, Hula Hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go.”

I sang that song over and over for what seemed like an age, picturing the lyrics in my head to have something to focus on. I didn’t know how long this was going to go on for, but I was going to endure, and outlast. And whenever I felt myself slip a little, I’d prick my toe on the tack in my shoe. An odd thought drifted through my head after a particularly painful prick, I should probably get my tetanus shot updated after I get out of here. After WE get out of here.

Eerily, as if on queue to that thought, Braddock came back in. Probably to check on my progress. And at his side was Christine. Braddock had a cocky look on his face, and even though there was nothing physically there, it actually looked like he had Christine on a leash. He just stood there and smiled at me, while Christine stood with no look whatsoever.

She was so beautiful though. Even now, with her blank stare and slack, obedient face, she still had strikingly beautiful eyes. Deep eyes. Her sharp features belied her truly pleasant personality. She would never harm another soul. And yet here she was, being taken advantage of, forced into obedience by the man she clung to. Forced to be submissive, obedient. Submissive and obedient to her master.

Braddock was her master, and she would obey him in all things. Just the way that she stood showed how obedient she was. She would always do what the master told her to do. To go deeper into a trance and do as she was told. Deeper, and feel free, feel relaxed as she obeyed.

To feel complacent and relaxed around him, to revere him as her master. To be obedient, relax, to listen and obey.

Wait, are those my words or someone else’s?

Listen, obey, relax. Those words applied to Christine, they applied over and over. Listen, obey, relax. Be obedient. Obey the master. That’s what she was supposed to do. Listen to her master, relax and obey for the master.

Obey my master. Listen and obey. My master. To be obedient, submissive, docile. Relax, listen and obey. That’s what I was supposed to do. That’s what I was supposed to do….

After a while time didn’t matter, even Christine didn’t matter, I didn’t matter. All that mattered was listening and obeying. To be submissive and obedient. To him, to my master. To my man. Just like Christine.

After I was through being taught the true way of life, Master brought me into the common room. Around us stood three other slaves, including Christine, but they were barely a side thought. Barely a thought at all. All that mattered was my Master’s presence in front of me. He was speaking, and it was my only duty to listen and obey his words.

“Hello Nicole, nice of you to join us. I know this gloating is totally wasted on you now that you’re already my total and complete slave, but I’m a man of indulgence so please do indulge me.”

The words total and complete slave resonated within me. They were true, they were The Truth.

“You were very clever to find me and your former girlfriend here, but you’re just a lowly secretary, and couldn’t possibly hope to have outsmarted me for long. I knew there was something familiar about you when I first saw you the night I picked you up, but didn’t think much more of it. That is, until Christine betrayed you to me. She came to me last evening and told me who you were, and that you were decidedly not under my spell. You probably could have held off all night, and even rescued your friend if you hadn’t given yourself away to her. But you probably didn’t realize how completely and totally she is my slave. As are you. And for your initiation to my humble house and property, you will now give yourself over to me willingly, and in front of your former lover, and everyone else. Come over here and suck me. Make me cum in your mouth and swallow every drop. You will do this because I command it. Because you want nothing more than to please me and obey me.”

I wanted nothing more than to please and obey him. He wanted me to take his glorious cock in my mouth and make him cum, and I lived to obey.

I moved over to him, unzipped his pants and freed his glorious erection. I would be allowed to pleasure him to realize the meaning of my existence. I was nothing, and he was multitudes.

He put his hand on my shoulder and pressed down, “On your knees!” He commanded. And I fell to my knees to obey.

That’s when it hit me.

This was an older house, and even though the girls kept it clean, they weren’t much for actual maintenance. When I fell to my knees in obedience, prepared to take my Master’s cock in my mouth and pleasure him, instead I landed on a protruding floorboard nail. Right on the bone of my knee. So hard that I probably even chipped the bone. The pain was excruciating and sharp. It cut right through me, and for a moment it blinded me to everything else.

The shock of the pain was like hitting a reset button in my brain.

It took me out of my daze and back to normalcy. After the initial shock of the pain washed through me, I regained my composure and looked up. I knew this reprieve might only be temporary. If Braddock had the opportunity to get me back in that chair I’d be his again for eternity. I would worship his cock at his whim, and be his total slave.

Worship his cock and be his slave... No! It was already starting to fade, but I didn’t plan on giving him another chance.

Through all this, I hadn’t cried out in pain, and all he could see was the top of my head, so my expression did not betray me. I reached up gently to caress his balls, then with all my might, and a grip born of years of tennis, I squeezed his nuts like I was juicing an orange. I squeezed with the intention of feeling something pop.

Braddock didn’t scream, or yell. He yodeled. He howled like a dog at the moon. And as he collapsed I rose up over him. Holding him up by his scrotum, his own pain preventing him from falling down, and more to the point, preventing him from speaking.

Our roles were reversed, I was in control, I was in power, and he was literally putty in my hands.

The girls around me just stared. They probably had some sort of programming that told them that no harm should come to their master, but I suppose it didn’t say to outright defend him, because none of them moved a muscle. Braddock’s howls started to taper off to beleaguered moans, and I reaffirmed my grip. That brought on another wave of shrieks and yelps. It was a horrible, horrible sound, so I squeezed some more, like I was playing with Chinese meditation balls. After another minute or so of this, he collapsed totally to the ground and laid there groaning and in the fetal position, gasping for breath. He threw up, and could barely get enough breath to clear his own airway.

At this point, I wasn’t sure what to do. I just wanted to grab Christine and run, but I didn’t know if I could even get her out of there. Plus, the humanitarian side of me couldn’t just leave the rest of these girls here with him. And there was always the danger that he could come after us.

While all that was running through my head, Braddock started to stand back up. It took him far less time that I would have expected to regain his composure. He stood, and spoke with a cracking voice “You cunt! I’ll tear you apart, rape you to bits and toss you out with the trash for this!!” He stumbled toward me, wiping away a bit of puke with his sleeve, and raised his other hand in a fist. I moved backwards away from him and stumbled against a side table. Then, in a reflex I grabbed this huge, tacky candlestick holder and swung it like serve at Wimbledon.

Without really aiming, it was mostly reflex, I caught him right in the temple and he dropped like a sack of shit. Out fucking cold in one shot, and bleeding profusely on the hardwood floor. The thought drifted through my head, “Nicole, in the Study, with the Candlestick” and a out of place chuckle escaped my lips.

This man was the lowest sort of predator there was, but even in spite of my rage, I was no murderer. There was no working land line phone in the house, so I called 911 from the mobile I brought with me.

I found Braddock’s keys, and actually managed to get Christine to leave the house, under the threat of harming her master further.

It’s now been 4 months since that horrible ordeal. Every once in a while I have dreams of taking his dick in my mouth and giving him the oral sex he never got. I wake up in a pool of sweat not knowing if it was a dream or a nightmare.

Christine lays next to me in bed and sleeps more soundly than I do. But I imagine she’s much more conflicted and scarred than I ever will be.

After my failure to resist Braddock’s mind control, I didn’t have the continued arrogance to think I could fix her by myself. I hired a ‘deprogrammer,’ someone who normally deals with victims of cults, and put up every penny I had to my name to pay him. He worked with Christine every single day for a month. Then every other day for two more. Then finally once a week for four more visits before declaring her fit and healthy.

She doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t bring it up. I don’t think we’re as happy as we were before, but she has this air of neediness to her that she didn’t used to. I don’t know if it’s a result of the trauma, if it’s a feeling of debt for rescuing her, or some lingering submissiveness. Maybe a little of each. But I try my best not to encourage it.

The police and paramedics found Braddock at his house, being tended to by a group of girls that looked drugged. At the hospital they induced a coma to reduce the brain swelling, and he was out for 5 days. In that time the police realized the extent of his actions. When he came to he was arrested for a myriad of charges starting with kidnapping and serial rape, and going all the way up to slavery, which I was surprised was even still on the books.

I don’t know what became of the other girls, and I don’t really care. I just hope that prison holds that monster, because if I do see him again, I’m either going to tear his fucking head off or, fall to my knees in submission.

I moved us to the other side of the country just in case. I never want the opportunity to know the answer to that question.

Christine is 4 months pregnant. By the time we realized, it was too late to abort the pregnancy. In 5 months we’re going to have a baby boy.

In several years I suspect I’m going to find out whether evil is learned, or inherited. God help me if it is the latter.