The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

❧ November 11th. Thursday.

I didn’t have much of a routine. Sometimes I woke up pretty early, sometimes I stayed asleep until someone else teased me into a blissful good morning. When I was the first one up I liked to watch Alex lying back with a huge smile on her face, but I could never let it last too long before I was tempted to touch, or to taste her and see the first gasp of pleasant surprise as she woke. But some days, Alex wasn’t there beside me, and then I could start the day by turning on the computer and chatting with some friends on the Internet until it was time for someone to make breakfast.

On this particular day, it was my turn for cooking duty, but my clock said it wasn’t even 7 yet, and I doubted anyone would appreciate being woken so early, even if it was by the smell of frying bacon. So I got myself a bagel, and sat down at the computer. The first place I checked out was Control Space, of course. The site had a few new articles on it, which I skimmed over the titles of. Introductions to various hypnosis techniques, or suggestions for fun games to play—I didn’t need to look into those, because I never had that much interest in taking control of someone else’s mind or perceptions and I found that what Master did to me was so much more fun if it was a complete surprise. The thing that I really got into on that site wasn’t the content, and I didn’t use the Matchmaker thing any more. It was the chatroom I was here for.

I was surprised this morning to see that Porcupine was back online; though he’d changed his name to Mr Porcupine now. That was a surprise. A few days earlier, I’d seen other people in the group complaining about a predator called Miss Porcupine, who’d been hypnotising people and trying to get them to do embarrassing things or send him naked pictures. A few of the senior members—Jim, Magistique, and Someone Else had been discussing it when I was online on Monday—had decided they were going to try some direct action to get him to stop.

“Hi, Mr Porcupine,” I typed curiously, wondering if their mysterious plan hadn’t worked out quite as well as I’d hoped. “Did we talk before?”

He was quite nervous in responding, the [now typing] indicator flashing on and off a few times before a line finally appeared: “I was pretending before, I didn’t think this stuff was real. But Julie showed me how intense it could be and I was nervous at first but now I think I want to learn more, and Annabelle’s said it’s okay as long as I don’t hurt anybody, so if we talked before I think we should start over.”

That was enough to make me smile. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, I think there’s a lot of people who would enjoy the feeling of being under someone else’s control and not having to make any decisions if they just knew how good it can feel. Hopefully in time, this Porcupine would become a respected member of the community, and put his earlier actions behind him. There was just one more thing I had to ask: “Who’s Julie and Annabelle? Are they people on here?”

“Julie is, she was Pandora the other day just to trap me, but she said she’ll talk to me again if I decide to come back. I think she’d like a manager here.” I nodded at that. The rest of the conversation passed in a blur, both finding out a little more about this potential new friend, and chatting with the others as they came online. I couldn’t stop thinking, though, that I should be able to pick up on something more there. I wasn’t really paying attention to most of what he said, but I did get enough to gather that he’d decided to call Jules by a different name because he thought it was cuter.

I’m not totally heartless, I did warn him that they might not like having their name changed if it was the same Jules I was thinking of. I tried to get any more information from him too, because I still didn’t know which of the nicknames on the chat corresponded to my housemate. One of the moderators; if he was right, that would narrow it down considerably.

I was still thinking along those lines when I headed downstairs and started putting some food together. I didn’t have the culinary talents of either Alex or Jim, I was more likely to end up a house slave than a housewife, but I was at least able to produce enough variations on bacon, pancakes, and bagels to satisfy everyone.

I didn’t have any classes in the morning, which seemed to be a good thing. Alex was almost frantic when she hit the kitchen, though, rushing around trying to find everything she needed for some presentation. I tried to help as much as I could, but then Britney and Marten were down, asking when their breakfast was going to be ready. I felt bad for not realising Alex had deadlines so close, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You can’t take responsibility for everything,” she said as she flashed a sudden smile and kissed me deeply, “I’ve got this, I just overslept. If you want to make me feel better, then pick out some wine for celebrations or consolations tonight. We’ve hardly had any quality time since Sunday.”

“You’re after a little celebration?” Jim chipped in. He’d come down right behind her, but I hadn’t even spoken to him yet today. “I’m off to St Patty’s this morning, so I can give you a lift if you want.”

St Patrick’s Arcade is a small shopping centre on the other side of the city. They’ve mostly got boutique type stores, places where you end up paying more than you can afford for something that might be handmade or unique. It’s not the first place I’d think of when getting wine for a celebration, I would probably have just gone to the local supermarket, but it’s a good choice if you want to get something special. There’s a chocolatier there I’d never miss an excuse to visit, though. And I wanted to get to talk to Jim, as well. I’d hardly seen him on his own since the weekend.

“You wanted to talk?” he said as soon as we were in the car. I didn’t realise I’d been that transparent. “I saw how quickly you jumped at coming with me, that’s not just a craving for wine and posh shopping. You wanted to spend time with me, and I’m pretty sure there’s nowhere at St Patty’s private enough for most of the things I might have in mind, so I have to assume you’ve got something on your mind.”

He was right, of course, but I couldn’t help blushing when I realised just how predictable I must be. My first instinct was to bluster, to argue, to be angry with him for reading me so well. But I’d told him enough times that was what I wanted. I needed someone to understand me, and to do the things that would make me happy because I’d never have the courage to say the things I really wanted to if I was left to my own devices. He was being the perfect guy again, but it still made me furious, so I took a deep breath and made myself hold my tongue for a second before responding.

“Yes, I wanted to talk. After Sunday night, that was… well, it was completely unexpected. In an awesome way,” I blustered, suddenly realising that having tried a new experience for the first time, he’d probably be expecting some kind of complaint. “I just want to know, tell me that was you, right?”

Bastard. He looked at me like he was confused, like he didn’t know what I was talking about, and just for a moment I wondered if someone else had been messing about with my subconscious mind. Had I fallen victim to a predator without realising? He could only keep a straight face for about three seconds though, before breaking out into a chuckle that gave the impression it wanted to be a full belly laugh, if he hadn’t been driving at the time.

“Sorry, sorry,” he caught his breath, “You just sounded so uncertain. Of course it was me; that kind of game really isn’t Jules’s style. They told me you two explored a little, by the way. Alex loved the thought of being in control, but I think she doesn’t have the right mindset to learn hypnosis easily. Different types of people are good at different things, you know? But I figured I could always set a little suggestion into your mind, and give Alex the words she needed to take control.”

“So…” I hesitated again, but reminded myself just how many embarrassing things I’d done in the last few weeks, and how it was silly to be nervous about talking to Master about the things that were worrying me, “How much of that was real? I mean, I know Alex wasn’t really doing all those things to me, but I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Did you tell me what to feel, or was part of that down to her, too?”

“Don’t let it bother you. I know you like feeling embarrassed in front of your friends, so I wanted to find a way you can feel that without making anyone worry about you. I didn’t give any specifics, but I said you’d imagine Alex doing whatever would turn you on most. Nearly everything will have been in your mind, but I think Alex could well have decided to tease to a bit for real as well; as far as she could get away with in public, anyway. I think she’s a pretty good judge of things like that.”

“That’s good to know,” I felt relieved, but just as soon as those thoughts went away, something else was popping up in my mind. “Do you think I could maybe… Could you give me something like that, so I can be in charge occasionally?” I’d thought about that a few times before, but not any time I was a position to ask for it. I’d half hoped he’d do something right then—but I guess that wasn’t so easy when we were talking about a post hypnotic suggestion for my girlfriend. At the very least, he’d have to get some time alone with her to set the suggestions in her mind, and depending how far he thought I could be trusted with that power, he might have to ask her approval first as well.

He made a noncommittal response, said he’d think about it or something, and any further discussion was curtailed as we pulled into the St Patrick’s Centre car park.

It was an odd layout, an odd part of town shaped by its history. But I guess that gave it some kind of character, and that was an important quality to the kind of high-end boutiques and craft shops that set up here. A large chunk of what would have been a residential neighbourhood on the edge of the city had been shaped by the old St Patrick’s Church, which had moved to a new venue four times in the last century. One of the old churches, resplendent with gothic archways and vaulted ceilings, was now a restaurant. A Swiss couple had been able to set up the place as a working retirement, investing where the church couldn’t afford it. Two more former churches had been linked by a tree-lined covered walkway, with shops all along one side. One church was still a place of worship, though, open to any who wanted to pray there, despite the East transept now being part of a shopping street. The other church was now an indie theatre, and backed onto the building that everyone seemed to refer to as the new, new church.

This place had been in walking distance when I lived with Dad, even if it was quite a long walk. I used to come here if I wanted to treat myself, so it was a little weird to think that I had to catch a bus or get a lift now. It was strange to see that some of the shops had changed, as well. But Bullwark’s Confectionary was still right in the middle, and I headed straight there. Good chocolate, like my father and Jim, was something I’d always be able to rely on to raise my spirits.