The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was getting to be early evening and she woke up a little, enough to realize that he was packing his bags. She almost had the willpower to get up, to ask him why; she had to do something, this hypnosis had to wear off sometime...but when he saw her, he smiled and told her that she needn’t worry, she should “sleep”

And Myla did. Counting with the time she’d slept before then, She must have slept...thirteen hours in total, a total turnaround for her chronic insomnia. And she might have slept for longer if she wasn’t kicked out of Monk’s room promptly at seven thirty in the morning, with only her coat to cover her slutty lingerie.

What the bleeding fuck.

A little after seven thirty in the morning, Myla was left to think about the guy who let her be kicked out of a hotel by an uppity asshole in a gross suit in an embarrassing outfit that people who know her might see. And Myla was left to think about the guy who tricked her by cheating at a damn video game he didn’t even let on was made by himself. And Myla was left to think about the guy who was nervous and kind, even if he was taking advantage of you, he was still nervous and kind and he thought that real Warcraft was Warcraft III.

Myla shivered and decided that she didn’t want to go to the convention by herself. She tore up her weekend ticket and walked home.

It was Game Over, all over again.

Myla had no idea how to tell this story to her friend without being humiliated. For one thing, Edith’d made fun of Myla when she’d first found out about her fetish. For another, just talking about it would make Myla angry to the point of tears. And Myla was not going to cry, especially not when he was here.

Edith was looking up at her friend, who she could tell was on the verge of something, and gave her a comforting hand. “Did something happen between you two?". Edith supported Myla, and if that meant being angry at this asshole when Myla refused to, then she would. Or if that meant getting Myla reveal her true feelings, at least to herself, then Edith would try. Edith remembered how Myla’d been with her last partner, until Edith had helped. Maybe Edith could do that again.

Myla nodded. “Yes, something happened. Something really—so, so, important. But he left and barely said a word. And after all that, he has the nerve to show up in my city again? Like nothing’s ever happened?”

Edith didn’t know what to make of it, and all she said was, “Did you tell him how you feel about it?”

Myla looked down at her drink—she’d sucked it all dry, even the water from the ice that’d melted at the bottom. She still looked like she was trying to find a prophecy in it. It was up to Edith to decide what it was she’d see.

“Maybe you should say something before the bus comes” and Myla’s ears perked up immediately at that. That’s right, it was a Thursday, and in this part of town the buses would be coming every fifteen minutes. Hell, she’d miss him any minute.

It was now or never.

“You’re right, Dee” Myla said, a sudden anger and determination flaring in her eyes. “I’ll talk to him. Right now.“

Myla gave Edith a little salute as she left, and Edith thought about two things—one was that Myla had failed to pay her part of the bill.

The other was, why would someone from out of town be taking that bus?

Myla thought about how there’d been two Monks. She’d thought she was getting to be pretty good friends with the one. And she woulda thought, logically, that she must have made some sort of impression on the other, considering all the trouble he’d gone through just to have sex with her. But who was the guy who’d left her behind? And who was she going to meet now?

Monk looked up and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world that he was here, and that Myra had appeared. Myla cut straight to the chase. “Why are you here?” she demanded, her voice filled with life and fire and pain and all kinds of stuff like that. You could tell that even Monk was surprised, had forgotten that she could do that.

“Well, I’d left the convention in a hurry. There were...things I hadn’t taken care of. Things I’d left behind”.

Me, Myla thought.

“But it’s okay now. I had them somewhere safe: The pictures.”

Myla felt numb rage. “...The pictures?”

Monk smiled and reached in his pocket. She was allowed to see, but not touch. They were square, old fashioned kinda photos. Polaroids, all of her, in those stupid slutty clothes, dazed and horny. It was after he’d said, “sleep”.

“I know I’m a shitty photographer.” he said. “But it’s not like you said it was a dealbreaker. I asked you for dealbreakers, didn’t I?”

“What are you, some kind of bullshit troll vampire? You fucking moron, have some common fucking sense. You just don’t take pictures of the girls you sleep with, you don’t have to hear me say it was a dealbreaker to know that.” Myla was seething.

“You’re yelling.” Myla’s hand flew to her mouth, furious as she was.

Monk examined the sidewalk for a minute, then seemed to remember himself. “This was the last piece of the puzzle. I couldn’t have made that game by myself. I had a friend who had a little company, and he agreed to make it happen if I could get him the pictures”. So that’s how the game was so kawaii moe moe shit when Monk doesn’t even know what the word means, Myla thought. But that didn’t matter.

“What the hell, Monk? What the fucking hell?”

“What about this isn’t fair? I thought you had a good night. Isn’t this fair payment?”

“Fair payment? For what? For liking you? For trusting you? Dammit, Monk” and she was so mad, she felt the tears welling up. Myla started crying and Monk just looked kind of, bewildered?

He came up to her and hugged her in a confused ‘there, there?’ that normally would have been funny to her, but she didn’t notice past the deep desire she had to tear him apart like an atom bomb from within his embrace.

“I don’t want,” it was hard to speak a sentence, her breath was coming in hyperventilating sobs, “to—be that girl—who cries—ever—I can’t stand that!...

“ah-and I can’t——fucking! stand—fucking causing a scene, fucking romanti- hic comedy, shit!” she just wished she could explode and then he’d be torn to shreds in the blast.

“Hey, you don’t have to go bashing chick flicks, just because you’re upset...”

Myra looked up at him like he’d just...well, suddenly turned around and showed her some naked pictures of herself after she was hypnotized by a fucker who had then gone on to fuck her in a somewhat mutual but turns out not to be so mutual as she’d thought thing. “Are you literally insane? I wouldn’t need to be upset to tell you that chick flicks suck balls. They’re just bad. Like cats.“

“Hey, what’s wrong with cats?”

“Are you literally insane?”

“You say that like I was supposed to be figuratively insane.“

What in the actual hell is happening to me right now? Myla thought. Where did this guy come from, and what is happening to me?

“I wanted...when I figured out what was possible...” Monk said softly, and Myla realized that she’d spoken aloud.

“Why me...?” she felt lost, and weirdly distant from within his comforting arms.

“Well, there aren’t many girls on the forum...I saw a picture of you that I liked. I liked your hair.”

That numb anger swelled inside again.“When the morning came, I was kicked out of the hotel by the asshole manager. I had to walk home in a coat and that stupid fucking lingerie.” I’m a human being, you asshole.

“What, you didn’t like that outfit?”

“I almost broke my neck in those heels. I’d say my relationship with the outfit is complicated.”

“I’m sorry about the manager, for what it’s worth. And you almost breaking your neck. Although I liked swooping you back onto the bed.”

“’swooping’?”

“Yeah, I got to show off some muscle.”

“...Dammit, Monk, what am I supposed to do?”

He thought for a minute, staring at the sidewalk, probably wondering how he’d gotten so sidetracked. Walking in heels? Cats? Chick Flicks? But he’d had an answer before any of that stuff that just happened, and it still probably set things right. “I’ll go back to the university, I’ll give Greg the pictures, he’ll never bother you. And I guess we’ll just live our lives. That sounds about right.” The last was mostly to himself.

“No.”

“You want Greg to bother you?”

“No. Fuck. Everything but that is wrong. You mean I’ll never see you again?”

“Well, I don’t think you should be upset. If you ever liked and trusted me, it’s because you were hypnotized. That’s kind of how it works, pet.”

“Weren’t you there?” she gaped. “Am I that meaningless to you? I mean, even for scientific reasons, you don’t give a crap about what happened? You’re just gonna leave it behind, and never talk about what you pulled off, and pretend like your life is normal?“

“Well of course it sounds bad when you talk about it that way...” he mumbled. “And you forgot that I was there....“

“What does that mean?”

“...I don’t know.”

They stood for a while, him holding her, neither of them speaking. And just when Myla felt that, maybe things would be alright, Monk turned out to have made up his mind.

He left her alone at the bus stop, the photos in his bag.