The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Mark Logan?” asked a nondescript bus driver as Mark scaled the bus’s steps.

“Yes sir, that’s me,” Mark replied timidly. After an awkward pause made it clear that the driver wasn’t planning on saying anything more, he hazarded a tentative question: “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, sir, where are we going? I’m sorry, but no one’s told me anything.”

“You’re going to seat 17C,” the old man replied gruffly. “Enjoy the ride.”

Mark opened his mouth to complain, but quickly thought better of it. This guy didn’t exactly seem like the helpful type, and he figured one of the other passengers might know something they were willing to share. He dejectedly began to make his way down the aisle to his seat. His heart was still pounding. The last few days had been a hurricane for him, and he still didn’t know what was going on, or even where this bus was heading.

He walked slowly, trying to see if there was some connection between the people on the bus, but the only thing they seemed to have in common was that none of them would make eye contact with him. In fact, none of them were looking at each other, either, or even talking at all. They were all just sitting still with their eyes downcast. Before long, Mark made it to row seventeen, where he took a seat next to a dark-haired girl in baggy hoodie and jeans. She was looking downward like the rest, and seemed oddly disinterested in the fact that someone had taken the seat next to her.

The bus was still and quiet, except for the driver at the front, who was mumbling into what looked like a large walkie talkie with a pair of earbuds attached so that the rest of the bus couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end. After a couple minutes of talking, he put it away and pulled some levers in front of him, at which point the doors hissed shut and the bus departed.

As if some spell had been broken, the passengers instantly sprung to life, and began to talk and look around. For some reason, Mark suddenly felt much more at ease, as well. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was like there had been a change in the air, and with every breath he was inhaling calm and exhaling worry. He wasn’t sure why, but an instinctive part of him was beginning to feel like everything was going to be alright.

Turning to look out the window, Mark saw that the hoodie girl was looking at him now. Her eyes were a bright speckled green, and gleamed against the almost-porcelain skin of her face. She was definitely beautiful, but in a very understated, uncomplicated sort of way. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her black hair was tangled and wavy. She definitely wasn’t smiling at Mark, but she also wasn’t frowning. She was just sort of looking at him neutrally, with a little bit of curiosity.

“So, what are you in for?” she suddenly asked.

“Sorry?” Mark replied, a bit startled.

She looked at him incredulously. “I mean what can you do? Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” said Mark sheepishly, “I’ve been trying figure that out.”

For some reason she found this hilarious. “You’re not serious,” she laughed. “Come on—are you really trying to tell me that nothing stands out in the last few days? Nothing out of the ordinary?”

Mark’s shoulders began to droop. He should have figured…

“Well, yeah, I guess there was one thing...” he mumbled.

“Go on, then, spill it,” she said, traces of laughter still visible at the edges of her smile.

“Well, my grandmother gave me this necklace for my birthday,” said Mark, pulling the gift out of his pocket to show her, “and this is going to sound crazy, but—”

“—it lets you control people, right?” she interrupted.

He stared at her for a second, shocked both by the accuracy of the guess and by how normal she seemed to consider the idea. “Um, sort of, yeah. I didn’t have that long with it before, well, all this.”

“So what does it do, exactly?” she asked, oddly excited.

“Well, as far as I can tell, when I’m wearing it, people will obey any command I give them. They even believe it was their idea in the first place.”

The girl’s eyes widened with surprise, and Mark could have sworn that he saw them glow for an instant.

“Damn,” she muttered, “that’s some serious shit. Any limitations to it?”

He shrugged, wondering for a moment why he was telling her all this. “Like I said, I didn’t get that long to experiment with it. But I’m pretty sure it has to be a command. Like, I have to tell the person to do something, or it won’t work.”

“But no one’s able to resist it?”

“No one that I tried it on, at least.”

The girl’s eyes glittered mischievously. “Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. Make me do something.”

“Why would you want me to do that?”

She chuckled. “Why not? I’m bored, and it’s not like we have anything more interesting to do. Besides, you ever tested it on an aware subject?”

“Well, no, I guess not.”

“There! Call it academic interest, then. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

Mark laughed. “Hey, if you insist. What should I make you do?”

She scoffed. “It’s no fun if I know what it’s going to be going in. Surprise me. I want to see if I can resist it.”

Mark fastened the necklace around his neck. “Last chance—you sure you want this?”

“Less questions, more commands, wimpy!”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, thinking for a moment. “Alright. Take off your hoodie.”

The girl’s eyes lost focus for a moment. Then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, she said, “Sure thing!” with a polite smile, and quickly lifted her sweater over her head. Mark’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t been wearing a shirt underneath the hoodie. As if that wasn’t enough, its bagginess had been concealing what was easily the largest pair of boobs Mark had ever seen on a girl her size—and now they were staring him right in the face, restrained only by a simple white bra.

Mark reluctantly pulled his gaze upwards to see that the girl was still staring at him expectantly.

“What are you waiting for, man?” she asked, apparently oblivious to the fact that sitting there in her bra wasn’t completely normal.

“No, I—wait. Become aware of what I did,” Mark stammered.

The girl’s eyes went wide with shock, then wider with anger. She pulled the hoodie back over her head faster than Mark would thought was humanly possible.

“God fucking damnit,” she groaned. “Why the hell do all guys have to be horny assholes?”

“Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t expecting—I mean—I didn’t think, you know...”

“That I’d have boobs?” she asked angrily.

“Well… you know… yeah…” Mark stammered as he hurriedly put away the necklace.

“Yeah, that’d be the point of the loose clothes, jerk.” She glared daggers at Mark, but eventually softened the look and shrugged. “Ugh. I suppose it’s alright… If we’re being totally honest, I used a glamour of influence to get you to tell me all that stuff about the necklace, so I guess we’re sort of even.”

“A what?”

She snickered. “Glamour of influence. Basically makes everything I say to you super convincing.”

Mark couldn’t tell whether to take what she was saying seriously. “So you’re what? Like some kind of—”

“Witch! Bonafide witch!” she chirped. “God, you have no idea how good it feels to finally be able to tell people. I’m Felicia, by the way.”

“Mark. And you really expect me to believe that?”

“Nice to meet you, Mark. And yeah, I do. Or is my being a witch somehow less believable than a necklace that can control minds?”

Mark laughed in spite of himself. “Fair point. So, do you know where we’re going?”

She shrugged. “Nope. But I think it’s safe to say it has something to do with this whole ‘mind control’ angle of our powers.”

“Why just mind control?” asked Mark. “I would expect a ‘bonafide witch’ to be able to do more than just control minds.”

“Watch it, buster, or you’ll spend the rest of this trip as something a lot smaller and greener. Anyway, look—what do you remember about how they caught you?”

“I was just in my room at home. Well, me and a few cheerleaders—”

“Oh my God,” Felicia interrupted. “You’re a walking stereotype, dude.”

Mark shrugged sheepishly. “I guess I deserve that. Anyway, I sort of just suddenly ‘realized’ that I needed to go outside and get in the car out front. Guess they zonked me or something.”

“Same!” cried Felicia excitedly. “Well, mine was a little more on the overt side, but same idea—just suddenly up and got into a car, don’t remember anything past that until I was getting on this bus.”

“Overt side?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Some football jerkwad made a comment about my ‘udders,’ so I made him grow some of his own and had him graze in front of the school like a cow.”

“Jeez, remind me not to piss you off.”

“Oh, I will—trust me. Anyway, think about it, though: mind control. They caught us for using it, and they used it to catch us. We’re probably under it right now, honestly.”

“How do you figure?”

“Doesn’t it strike you as just a little odd how okay we seem with all this? Why is everyone on this bus so relaxed? We’re being kidnapped.”

As she spoke, Mark quickly began to realize how right she was. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to feel worried. Some part of him just kept echoing everything’s fine over and over.

“Okay, so they’re controlling us. What for?”

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem like we’re going to jail, does it? Why give us this bit of freedom if they’re just going to lock us up and throw away the key?”

As if in answer to her question, the bus stopped just as Felicia finished theorizing. As the drivers pulled some levers and the doors open, Mark felt his panic finally return. Mumbles throughout the bus confirmed that the spell of calmness had been broken for everyone. Looking to his right, Mark saw that even Felicia was starting to look nervous. After a few minutes of anxious quiet, a figure stepped onto the bus—a woman, and a very tall one. She was wearing a simple black pantsuit, which concealed any details of her figure save that she seemed unnaturally thin. Her face was sharp and angular, framed by hair that was either white or blonde—Mark couldn’t tell which. In fact, looking at her, Mark realized that for the life of him he couldn’t guess her age. She could have been anywhere between twenty and eighty.

She stared up and down the bus’s aisles sternly, apparently making note of each face. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke in a low voice that, in spite of its calm tone, seemed to carry eerily through the bus.

“I’m sure you all have a great many questions. Please let me assure you that they will be answered as promptly as possible. For now, I’ll ask that you please follow me. My name is Gloria Masterson, and I am the founder and headmistress of the Masterson College of Mind Control. Welcome to my school. I’m very excited to see what you are all capable of. ”

As Ms. Masterson (which he instinctively knew to address her as) spoke, Mark found himself nodding along, absolutely transfixed by her words. This new presence in his mind was entirely unlike the one from before. As he stood up, it felt as if every corner of his head was being filled with cotton candy, and by the time he and the rest of the passengers had disembarked, there was only a single thought floating around in the cotton candy oceans of all their minds: follow Ms. Masterson.