The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Five hours later Tina had gone. I was back on the deck searching the far distant horizon once more and allowing my thoughts to roam wherever they wanted to, which seemed to be encompassing mind control. Mind control? I wondered. What exactly was it? The word has different meanings for different people, but mind control for real good? Now that was one I knew I could spend years pondering on. I guessed it could be about ultimate self-control, or Will power. But, the type of mind control I had sensed that Tina had been speaking of, or the concept of it, at least, being for good, could only be termed external mind control, at best. And that was simply some outside force being exerted on a person to influence that person’s thoughts and actions in some way.

So what was so new about that? Enter, hypnosis, or, as I’d seen recently and had done myself recently, actual thought projection. But for good? It was a puzzle, I knew that. But there was no challenge, like no challenge. At that time I definitely felt challenged and decided not to try to direct my thoughts along any single particular line, preferring instead to let them find their own way to wherever they wanted to take me.

I knew there were fairly innocuous forms of mind control, both good and bad, and harmless, relatively speaking. Advertising came to mind. Or perhaps the kind of indoctrination a soldier receives in boot camp. Most everyone agreed that this form of mind control really exists, and in most cases, is harmless. A harmful form of this type of mind control is the influence cult force upon people. I knew this influence could take away a persons free Will and ability to think for themselves. And I knew it was said that if an organisation cuts a person off from his family, then that organisation is using negative mind control and should be avoided. I reflected on the travel of my thoughts. None of them seemed to be approaching any reasons or examples of mind control for good. I decided to watch the seagulls for a little while to see if my thoughts managed to collect themselves around the concept of mind control for the purposes of good.

Whatever it was, I thought, involved the lesser well-known type of mind control, which would have to involve the ability to directly influence another person’s behaviour by manipulating the person with commands or instructions in some way. I knew the general public didn’t believe this type of mind control existed. And some would probably argue that anyone experiencing this would have to be mentally ill. No. The type of mind control I was searching for was the type of mind control where someone or some force outside a person was influencing that person’s behaviour directly with suggestions, commands or emotional manipulation of some type, which was exactly where Tina and I fitted into the big picture. But where did good fit into that picture, even if we could exert that external force over others without their being aware if.

I knew I had built a three-tiered defence system in my mind and it had worked. I’d proven it to myself. But then Tina had gotten through it, or around it, or under it, and without my knowing about it until it had been too late, so to speak. When I’d questioned her about that she had admitted she’d lied, but had actually been telling the truth when she’d told me I’d done it, and that she hadn’t been able to get through. But, she had also gone on to tell me she had simply approached my mind from another level. That had left me none the wiser, except that she’d told me I could do it, too, and that she’d show me when the time was right. I mused on that one for a second or two-approach my mind from another level? Nothing. After a few seconds of waiting, that one went nowhere, either. Back to the seagulls and the peaceful ocean beneath their beating and soaring wings and diving white bodies.

Who could possibly use mind control for good? I wondered. Our government? All governments? Then my thoughts seem to freeze for a second before moving on in an unexpected direction-enter the Manchurian Candidate. Manchuria was a part of Northern China. During the Korean War, US soldiers had come back with reports of being captured and taken to Manchuria, and once there, experiencing brain washing and other unusual psychological torture. A book had been written, titled ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ and a movie with the same title had been then made, co-starring Frank Sinatra. Actually, the history surrounding this book and movie was very interesting, I’d found, not the least of which was the fact that the movie had been pulled from circulation shortly after it had been made, which coincided with just after JFK’s assassination. Anybody who had even seen the movie would soon see why.

I remembered another book then, a non-fiction book that had been based on government files released in the 1970’s entitled, In Search of the Manchurian Candidate. It had been written in the middle 1970’s and had gone rather deeply into mind control. But that didn’t seem to answer my initial question. Why mind control for good? And how? My head was beginning to develop a dull ache. Back to the seagulls once again.

What was a Manchurian Candidate, anyway? I tried to recollect, and remembered then that the classic Manchurian Candidate was a person who had been programmed to be an assassin. And then, after he had done the deed, did not know why he had done it or who had made him do it. Nobody would generally believe that, of course, especially the general public, but the facts revealed over time spoke for themselves. It could be a pretty useful tool in government espionage work as well, I’d imagined, and not just for assassinations. But we were all about good, somehow.

What I was still having problems with, or my mind was, at least, was in reconciling our government with mind control for good. I’d only ever heard of and read about it being used by them for underhanded agendas, but never for good. If they had used it that way the newspapers would have been the first to know about it-of that I was sure.

I lit up a smoke and felt guilty. Then I didn’t. I began to feel annoyed instead. This problem was beginning to really draw me into it, because somehow, I knew I was at the centre of it in some way. I also had a strong feeling that Tina still wasn’t being completely honest with me, in spite of her claims to the contrary.

Thoughts of the CIA began to enter my mind then, along with the sudden rush of nicotine surging through my brain cells. In particular, the Military, because, I believed the poor old CIA had taken the brunt of the blame for work in this area for years. Even thought it probably deserved it, people tended to overlook the Military and other Clandestine forces, including private contractors, specifically Military Intelligence, who have probably done more research in the area of mind control than the CIA ever has.

‘Yes, OK, but why mind control for good, for Christ’s sake!’. I exclaimed out loud, becoming really frustrated all of a sudden at getting absolutely bloody nowhere with it all. It was my belief that the organisation that Tina and I both worked for was not related to the actual manipulation of people for any particular purpose, except for research, which was one way of saying they did it, simply because they could. And, because it was so incredible. I figured it must seem to them like having one of those fancy military whiz-bang blow-em-up toys. Have toy, will play. The arrows are in the quiver, and they need to be taken out and used once in awhile.

No. For some reason, I sensed that whatever mind control was being used, and for whatever reasons, I didn’t seem to be getting any closer to it. Everything hinged around that phrase-mind control for good. Just what I needed in my life-another bloody puzzle. I lit another cigarette and wondered why. I didn’t even see, let alone enjoy the last one go. As I inhaled the smoke, the rush came for me again, and, with a vengeance. I stubbed it out and coughed. I didn’t need that rubbish in my body, either, right then. All in all, I felt I was having a bad-hair day that just didn’t seem to be getting any better.

Mind control, I knew, covered several steps. I thought that if perhaps I backtracked my existing knowledge I might come across a reason why it might be used for only good, or who might be using it for those purposes. I allowed my mind to relax and lose its tension by crossing my eyes just slightly, letting them go slightly out of focus. Within moments my thoughts settled and began to clear.

There were several steps to mind control that I was aware of. Placing a person into a condition where he will process the commands of another was the first step. The second was issuing the commands. The third step was getting the person to then act on those commands. With the fourth step being somehow to get the person to forget about or attach no importance to whatever events transpired because of the commands given. And the final step would be arranging it so the person would not know who did it to him, or how it had been done. Or even, in some circumstances, deny the person the knowledge that the events had ever occurred in the first place.

No rocket science there, I mused in my thoughts idly. Pretty basic stuff, but as yet, no enlightening reasons or candidates that answered my questions. Most of the steps could be accomplished through hypnotism or drugs or both. I knew that even with electronics it was possible. Nothing new. And I definitely knew from first hand experience that it was also possible to use sex to manipulate some people in this way, usually in conjunction with the other techniques, such as thought projection. A living image of Tina’s fiery red bush flashed before my mind. I waited to see if it stayed. It didn’t. Although she promised me she wouldn’t send any more images of her naked loins my way, I still didn’t trust her one hundred percent. I didn’t trust anyone one hundred percent, even myself?

I began to feel as if I were becoming frustrated again and tried to relax. Then I stopped doing that and allowed the relaxation to just come into my mind and my body. Mind control was a fact. I knew that. Many didn’t, especially the unknowing and deceived public, but it was a fact and that was that. Many may disagree and that would be their right, but it would still be a fact, I knew that, too. It was true that this sort of thing was not well documented, for obvious reasons, or taught in any well-known Universities. Nor was there any credible mainstream expertise in the area.

And to the best of my belief or knowledge no medical school taught these techniques or issued degrees in mind control. No, mind control existed on the fringe of society, in the shadowy world of the clandestine forces and possibly in organised crime. Mind control was also used by cults. Bugliosi wrote about Charles Manson’s use of mind control over his disciples. Black witchcraft uses mind control. Rasputin, the mad bloody monk, the last Russian Czar’s advisor was known to have used mind control. But none of them ever used it for good that I was aware of.

For some reason I began to think of medical reasons for using mind control. Perhaps there might be a good reason there? Certainly it was well known that there were anaesthesia-type trances and drugs. When under anaesthesia, the person does not have any memory of what was going on around him, yet was not really asleep either. Less well known were the pre-anaesthesia drugs. Under the influence of these drugs the patient was still conscious, but these drugs prevented the formation of long term memory also. There were specialised drugs, sometimes called CIA Drugs, which were specifically designed as hypnotics and prevented long-term memory formation as well.

Perhaps it wasn’t about hypnosis at all as a theme? I wondered. Perhaps hypnosis was just the tool-just the doorway? Most information about hypnosis that was available to the general public had always been somewhat sketchy. Hypnosis has lost it’s prestige, if it ever really had it, and perhaps for good reason, but any good hypnotist could easily put someone in a hypnotic trance, have them perform acts, then bring them out of the hypnotic trance and wake them up. The person will have no memory of the events that occurred while under the trance, either from natural amnesia because of the trance depth, or through directed amnesia trigger suggestions.

Perhaps, I wondered, as a thought from left field suddenly surfaced in my conscious awareness of it, the whole thing was all about artificial intelligence? My thoughts then boggled immediately in coming to grips with all and any applications in that direction and lost the plot, now that they were being guided again by my conscious mind. I let that one go for the time being, attempting to remind myself to remember it later, when I was in a more receptive frame of mind.

I lit another cigarette and left it to lie in the ashtray, watching the thin stream of blue smoke drift skyward and back inside my open door with the slight sea breeze that was blowing at the time. As I did that I sensed my mind begin to quiet once again. I felt a little relived as I explored the area of electrics and who used them and for what regarding the area of the auditory perception of radio-frequency electromagnetic fields in mind control. I knew that such a thing as the human auditory system response to modulated electromagnetic energy existed as a proven fact, especially with microwave signals.

As I watched the lazy smoke spiral of the cigarette drift back inside my apartment I let microwaves go for some reason and wondered about other drugs and who might use them, and for what in relation to mind control. Most people believed that cocaine was bad news. I wondered what the general public would do if they knew about Burandanga, which was a kind of voodoo powder obtained from a Colombian local plant of the nightshade family, a shrub called Barrachera, or Drunken Binge. Native Americans, in their religious ceremonies, had used it for hundreds of years. The powder, when ingested, caused its victims to lose their Will and their memory, sometimes for days. When properly refined, the powder yields scopolamine, a well-known drug with legitimate uses as a sedative and to combat motion sickness.

I remembered then that Mengele, of Nazi fame, also had and experimented with scopolamine as a truth serum. But in Colombia, the drug’s most avid fans were street criminals. Crooks mixed the powder with sedatives and fed the Burundanga cocktail to unsuspecting victims whom they then proceed to rob—or worse. I recalled reading once that Doctors there estimated that Colombian hustlers slip the odourless, colourless and soluble Burundanga into the food and drink of about five hundred unsuspecting victims in the city each month. About half of the city’s total emergency room admissions for poison were always Burundanga victims. It was and still is a very serious problem. Even Colombia’s defence minister had been quoted as saying that the doctor who ran the city’s foremost toxicology clinic and who was in charge of toxicology for all of Bogota’s public hospitals also confirmed that the illegal and covert use of the drug had reached epidemic proportions.

According to the article, which had been quite a long one and had attracted my interest because of the hypnosis reference, it seemed that everyone in Bogota knew someone who had been victimised by the drug. In one common scenario, a person will be offered a soda or drink laced with the substance. The next thing the person remembers is waking up miles away, extremely groggy, and with no memory of what had happened. People had soon discovered that they had handed over jewellery, money, car keys, and sometimes have even made multiple bank withdrawals for the benefit of their assailants. And because Burundanga was often given at seedy bars or houses of prostitution, many of its victims were reluctant to ever come forward and press charges.

I recalled reading also that the victims of that drug simply couldn’t say no. They had had no Will and became very open to suggestion- a sort of chemical hypnotism. From the moment it’s given, the victim remembers absolutely nothing of what happened. From a criminal point of view, I figured, it had a lot of advantages. In a minority of cases Burundanga was used to lure young women who were then abused sexually. When they were found days later, they had no memory of what had happened to them. The substance could be given by liquid, in cigarettes or inhalant. Even police had been reported as using the drug to obtain the truth about, or to forget certain matters. It was very effective.

I watched as the cigarette burning in the ashtray went out of its own accord, knowing I hadn’t smoked it. I felt good about that, but still annoyed that I’d paid for it and wasted it. I breathed deeply and held the salt-saturated air deeply in my lungs for almost two full minutes before exhaling it in a sudden coughing fit. Then I felt good about myself again, in that at least I hadn’t smoked that one. I sighed. Enough was definitely enough, and, I’d had enough. I got up quickly and walked inside to the phone. It was answered on the first ring.

‘You have exactly one hour to get your sexy ass with its fiery red bloody centre over here and put me out of my misery!’ I said through clenched teeth. ‘And you aren’t bloody leaving here until I get all the bloody answers to all the bloody questions I intend to ask! Understood?’

‘I love it when a man is not dominating, just naturally dominant.’ Tina answered submissively. Leaving me with the distinct feeling she’d been sitting by the phone, doing absolutely bloody nothing but waiting for me to call with just such a strong demand of her. The phone went dead in my ear. It matched the feelings I had for her right then down to a T. I hated being lied to. I hated being deceived. And I bloody well hated being mucked with and mucked over even worse. I walked angrily back to the deck, took out a smoke and lit it. Then I smoked the bloody thing right down to the filter just to really tick it off, as I was even more so when I burned my lips doing it.

‘Jesus!’ I cursed, flicking it suddenly away as the pain shot instantly through to the appropriate section of my brain, telling me that I’d just been burned-as if I hadn’t bloody known. I’d been there.

‘Jesus!’ I cursed a second time then as I walked even more angrily back inside, deciding to take a shower and cool off before Tina arrived. Then I stopped. No, I decided. I wasn’t taking any bloody shower. I wanted to be in ‘exactly’ the same foul mood when her tight little red apex waddled through my front door. I was so determined to get answers that I felt as if one of us would not be leaving my apartment alive if I didn’t!