The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Olivia’s Investigations — Recommendation

One of the big advantages of an online chat room is that you can do anything you can describe, without having to worry about skill in the so-called real world. When someone describes themselves, it’s just good manners to accept their description without question. There’s an awful lot of incredibly well-hung guys there, as well as people whose percieved gender doesn’t quite mesh with the bodies they’re stuck with in the physical world.

The corresponding disadvantage, of course, is that the realism of these amazing proportions and impossible experiences is limited by each user’s imagination. It doesn’t matter on Controlspace if a guy has a 28-inch penis; he’s entitled to have that experience, but the girl he’s demonstrating it to still won’t be able to feel what thet would be like unless she has a really good imagination.

Unless you use hypnosis. Over the years, there have been a couple of people around this particular room who have been conditioned to feel what the other chatters say they’re doing. It was still up to the recipient of any gesture or action to imagine it, of course, but as long as they could think of what the feeling might be like, it would seem to them as if it had really happened. The technique was being demonstrated tonight by Someone Else, using relative newbie Finian as his guinea pig. Finian was strapped down to a table, unable to move, as Someone Else vigorously took him from behind. On some level, he knew that this was all just words on his screen, translated into a complete virtual environment by the words in his head, but the idea that he could break free simply by saying so never occurred to him.

“Oh, someone’s having fun,” Livvy Durden smiled as she came in. She was a little red in the face, and breathing heavily. She’d just got home from college, but it was clear she was also horny as hell and finding it difficult to hide. A few of the room’s more senior members, such as Magistique and Joanna, quickly descended to a conversation in whispers about the girl’s presentation of herself. Even if she was red in the face, it wasn’t compulsory to tell anyone. Maybe she was an exhibitionist, and wanted everybody to know how turned on she was. Or maybe something in her subconscious had been programmed to tell the world when she was excited, whether she wanted to type those words or not. That debate continued in the background, though neither would be so impolite as to draw Livvy’s attention to her descriptions of herself. If they really wanted to know, they could always ask her master later in the day.

“Hey Livvy Durden,” an anonymous slave murmured from the corner. Livvy looked over curiously, easily recognising the voice, but not being able to remember what the slave was more usually known as. That was the main disadvantage of a chat network where it was impossible to find people’s real names. Thugh in this case it was understandable, because of all the people who regularly visited Controlspace, there were probably only two or three whose normal lives wouldn’t be massively inconvenienced if people they knew found out that they came to a place like this.

“Hi,” Livvy waved back, then turned back to the couple enjoying themselves in the centre of the virtual floor, “Don’t suppose there’s room for another one there?”

“You look like you’re gagging for it,” Magistique grinned impishly, “But I thought you weren’t going to let anyone else hypnotise you without permission from your beloved Master Doctor?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Has anyone been here today? I mean, the Doctor or Librarian or my other flatmate?”

“Well, I might have seen…” Joanna looked around at the people nearby, “One of your friends might have been online today, but I can’t really talk about other people if they don’t want you to know things.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ask that. I’m just really hoping they were going to be home soon, you know?”

“I know how horny you are,” Magistique grinned cheekily, “That much is obvious. And I have to admit, there’s more than a little temptation to find out how many interests we have in common. But I wouldn’t do anything to help you with your current… predicament without your Master’s permission.”

“Then what can I do?” Livvy pouted, “You know what it’s like, when something gets to you way more than you expected, and you just can’t stop thinking, wondering, wanting to know how it would feel.”

“You could do what I did,” a girl called JeniCali69 spoke up from the corner. Livvy hadn’t met her before, and she hadn’t spoken up to that point, but she wasn’t at all shy about giving her advice, or about relating her own story…

❧ Summer, a few years ago.

Jenni was at home alone. It wasn’t actually an unusual situation, she’d never been a social butterfly. Some of the kids in high school had teased her for being pretty, as if that was something to be ashamed of. “How come you’ve not got a guy yet?” they jeered. Half of them didn’t have boyfriends, but she was the pretty one, so there must be something wrong with her to still be alone.

That seemed a long time ago, now. She wasn’t in high school any more, thank all the gods for small mercies. She was still a bit of a loner, though, she’d prefer her own company to that of other people. It wasn’t because of what had happened long before high school, that didn’t bother her any more. But after so long, she’d let herself get used to spending time alone, and she found that she enjoyed it more than most people would have thought possible.

Now, though, she had an additional reason to want privacy. Not that she wouldn’t invite others into her tiny room, but that she wanted to be alone for just a moment right now. She’d recently stumbled on a misfiled book in the local library, and she had hungrily devoured its contents. Then she’d been over excited about the prospect of trying out some of the things she’d learned, though she couldn’t decide whether it would be better to use those techniques on someone else, or to feel them being done to her. The subject, of course, was hypnosis. The book was written with the expectation that the reader was a trainee psychotherapist, but its tone was quite approachable, and the ideas she had in mind were very different from any kind of therapy. She wanted to feel herself lose control, and not know what was going to happen next. Of course, she’d had that before, and not in an enjoyable way. The difference in her fantasies was that though she couldn’t predict or control the events she was going through, she knew that the control lay with someone she could trust to keep her safe. To not have to keep one eye open all the time to protect herself, that was at the heart of her dream, though it would be some time before she came to analyse her own motivation so deeply.

She didn’t know anyone she could share this idea with. She had few friends, and she couldn’t imagine any one of them even comprehending the curiosity she felt. So she’d decided to experiment by herself. She’d written a story, a tale of some poor innocent student being hypnotised and abused in all the ways she wanted, and carefully crafted the words framing that story so that she could almost imagine she was hearing the man’s words as she read it. She had no idea if that could work, if she could fall into a trance just by reading about a hypnotist saying the words that would take his victim into a place so deep in her mind that she couldn’t distinguish fantasy from reality.

It had worked, though. She’d read the story, she remembered reading it, but she couldn’t remember what her evil protagonist was going to do to the heroine. She could remember reading those words as clearly as she remembered the hours staring at a blank page, struggling to form her ideas in the right way. She could remember, too, sitting back on the bed and listening as a tall dark stranger whispered seductive words in her ear, imagination so vivid that she couldn’t tell where reading the story ended and feeling the things he started began. But most importantly, and she shivered with the thrill of anticipation every time she thought about it, she couldn’t remember what words she’d had him say. Whether she recalled reading, listening, or writing, the insidious instructions themselves were a mystery to her.

Jenni lay back on the bed, and at once her feet were locked in place at the corners. She knew there were no physical restraints there, that there was nothing to stop her, but her muscles just wouldn’t move. She could feel the tug of imaginary chains on her ankles, pulling her legs apart, and knowing that they were all in her mind made no difference at all. She was terrified, not having the faintest idea what was going to happen next, but at the same time a sense of safety rested at the back of her mind. She knew on some level that she had scripted this herself, and that this fantasy wouldn’t go anywhere that would hurt her. She knew she could trust the words repeating round and round in the back of her head, so she didn’t need to know what they were making her do.

It was just as exciting as she’d imagined, too. She was practically shaking, and she didn’t even know if she would bail out now if she had the chance. She was getting horny as well, wanting to be touched so much. Would she have put herself in such a vulnerable place and invited someone around to take advantage of the situation?

No. She could trust herself enough to be helpless, but she’d never expose herself like that to someone else again. Not to mention that none of her friends would react in the right way, unless there was someone she’d completely forgotten. It was an idea she couldn’t put completely out of her mind once she’d thought of it. Maybe there was someone she’d come to trust that far, and share these plans with. The hypnotist in the long coat had found it amusing to make her forget just who would be popping in tonight. It was so easy now to think of the person making those plans, the Jenni of a week earlier, as a stranger who knew so many things she didn’t. So why couldn’t she have edited the roster of her friends to create more suspense?

She imagined Torsten striding in through the door, a wicked grin on his face and his cock at half mast protruding from the awful olive slacks he always wore. The image was so incongruous she could almost laugh, but it wasn’t humour that had already driven her hand inside her pants. She needed the contact so much right now, she just couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop writhing around as she brought herself to the edge, either, but that didn’t matter. She still felt her body restrained, and for all her movement she couldn’t bring her legs together. Her fingers were slick with her own juices, and every touch threatened to make her scream out. She wished she could remember if any of her housemates were upstairs, but this scene had grown so large in her mind that she couldn’t think of anything else. She couldn’t even remember if she’d thought to lock the door; or if she’d decided last week that it was going to slip her mind.

Was that a footstep in the hallway? She couldn’t hear enough to be sure over the sound of her own moaning, and she certainly couldn’t stop now, she was so close. She imagined Jamie, hearing her from outside, and just poking his head in to see if she was okay. She’d always been so quiet, he’d never heard cries like this coming from her room before. And then she’d find herself unable to resist the temptation, her arousal scoring the posthypnotic script even more deeply into her mind. She’d ask him to come closer, say she needed help, and she knew he couldn’t ever say no to a friend. She’d ask him to touch her, helpless now, and…

Jenni gasped, and let the explosion of lust roll over her. She hadn’t even imagined Jamie’s fingers teasing her clit, or dragging him close enough to bury his cock in her. Just the thought of being so helpless was all it took to push her over the edge. The fireworks were there, or whatever metaphor you want to use. By the time her breathing was back to normal, she was still dazed enough that it took a few moments to realise her ankles were no longer chained. With her mind and her memories controlled so tightly, she didn’t even need someone else to touch her. The thrill of knowing how helpless she was was more than she’d ever imagined, and every time she dropped herself into the realms of fantasy, the orgasm was more powerful than the last.