The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Isobel sat cross-legged on her bed, absent mindedly combing a brush through her hair. Normally so studious, her notebooks had lain untouched all afternoon. She was busy thinking of the pleasant changes that had occurred in her life over the past weeks.

After that nervous evening in the Zeedyks living room, when she had first removed her clothes and posed for them, she found herself becoming more receptive to their encouragement. She was performing excellently for their study, they had told her. Every night before bed she continued to practice in her bedroom: standing, bending, kneeling, stretching, feeling a flush of satisfaction whenever she was successful in holding the poses longer than the last time. She felt more refreshed every morning, and more limber during her days in college. When Mrs Z had asked her to come round again to show them her progress, she eagerly said yes. For some reason, the delightful tingling sensation she felt whilst she posed always increased when she had an audience.

A rapping sound broke into her thoughts. He mother’s head appeared as she pushed her door open.

“Iz honey, what do you feel like having for dinner tonight?”

“Actually Mom, I told the Zeedyks I’d have dinner with them.” Iz replied.

“Really? Again? Well, tell them I said ‘Hi’, I guess.” The tone of her voice seemed to indicate she felt there was something a little unusual about the amount of evenings her teenaged daughter was spending at the Zeedyks. It was true; in addition to Saturday and Sunday nights, this was the second time already this week she would be joining them.

Iz stayed quiet. She hadn’t spoken to her mother about her exercises. For some reason it felt as though that part of the night should remain a secret shared only by the three of them; Iz and her neighbours. She was so proud to be helping them with her study, she didn’t want to do anything to risk ruining it. Something told her that her mother would find it bizarre that Iz had been practising different poses, in the nude, in front of her neighbours. But it really had become just a matter of routine for Iz. She didn’t even think twice about it.

At precisely seven, Iz left her home and walked across the grass verge, onto her neighbours driveway. She gently knocked on their front door and let herself in. Mrs Z had told her she no longer needed to wait for them to answer. Closing the door behind her, Iz slipped off her pumps. She lifted off her faded t-shirt, folded it neatly, and placed it on the wooden table that hugged the vestibule wall. She slid down her sweatpants and left them atop her shirt. She had dispensed with wearing underwear when she visited. What was the need? They were just more things to take off and put on again.

“Hello dear!” Dr Z called through to her. “You’re right on time. Dinner is almost ready.”

Tonight the Doctor had prepared Korean fried chicken. Iz had learned to place a napkin across her bare thighs on nights like this in case of any hot drips from the sizzling meat. The couple told her about the grant they had received from a private firm in Boston to pursue another study. Iz, for her part, gave them a detailed account of her day in college, from how her classes were, to the gossip of her friends. Mrs Z in particular seemed particularly attentive. Iz felt a glow when they showed her so much interest in her.

Then, finally, they arrived at Iz’s favourite part of the evening. Dr Z would retrieve his “Concentration Aid”, and place it before Iz. She had seen it so many times by now, that she would feel her body loosen as soon as she saw it. She stared into the crystal that was suspended within the frame. The couple were pleased, they said. It hardly took any encouragement now for her to reach that soothing, restful state of mind in which she could properly practice. She felt her head nod and her chin droop, and she closed her eyes, and then it was time. Iz dutifully padded on her bare feet into their living room.

As the nights had progressed, Dr Z had changed some of her poses and introduced new ones for Iz to learn, stating in his Professorial tone that he was tailoring her exercises into a more productive routine. She took her place before the couple and took a deep breath, filling her lungs, and exhaled.

To begin, she stood as straight as an arrow. She raised her arms above her head and clasped her hands together. Then, whilst looking straight up she stretched her body as taut as she could. In his usual steady voice, Dr Z counted to sixty, and she released.

Next, she dropped down onto her knees, and rested her buttocks on her heels. Crossing her wrists behind her, she tilted up her neck, pushed out her chest, and stared serenely into Dr Z’s eyes as he counted upwards again.

Iz stood up and turned around to face the opposing wall. This next pose she had found difficult at first, but after much practice, it became easier. On her knees, she lowered her shoulders down until her upper body lay on the floor. She turned her cheek into the carpet. She forced her toes to point back to her buttocks, and grabbed hold of her ankles in her hands. Finally, she opened her mouth and poked out her tongue. She remained perfectly still and waited. Sixty.

Releasing her grip, she scooted back up onto her feet. Stretching her toned legs as wide as possible, she arched her back down to the floor until she was once again able to grab hold of her ankles. She waited, her hair dangling, the blood rushing into her head.

When the magic number was reached, Iz drew herself back up to her full height and turned around to face the Zeedyks once more. She inched her legs apart, tilted her head back, and stared at the ceiling with her mouth open. The count began anew.

Finally, she dropped nimbly onto the carpeted floor. She lay on her back and repeated the familiar motion of pulling her thighs apart, making sure to keep the soles of her feet firmly on the floor. With her shoulders pressed into the carpet, she raised her hips up as far as she could manage. Then, when Mrs Z finished counting, she had succeeded.

It was only a touch over six minutes long, but it felt like an hour of delightful tickling sensation for Iz. Then Mrs Z would call her a good girl and hold out her reward: another Wibele cookie.

But this night was different. As soon as she was finished, she didn’t greedily pounce upon the sugary treat. Iz made up an excuse and hurriedly returned to her clothes in the hallway. She jerked them on and darted back home.

There was a dark worry in her mind. It had built up so gradually she had been able to pretend that it wasn’t really there, but she had realised tonight she couldn’t ignore it. She was getting more and more excited. More and more aroused. When she performed. She was sure the Zeedyks had to know. After all, it was impossible to hide anything when she was unclothed. She could feel the warm air tickle over her naked sex as she stretched. She could feel her most intimate place become progressively dewier the more she posed. It didn’t help that some of the more extreme positions pulled her nether lips open in a manner she could only describe as obscene, when she considered it. She couldn’t fool herself into thinking that they couldn’t see her lips glistening with liquid arousal, as closely as they observed her. She imagined that they could even see her exposed clitoris pulsing as she bent over for them.

In the safety and privacy of her bedroom, Iz hid under her sheets, her emotions in a whirl. Her mind flitted back and forward. What if I’m ruining their study? She fretted and buried her head into her pillow.

On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she were some sheltered, cloistered girl, unaware of her own sexuality. She was of age. It was true that she’d never had a boyfriend, but she’d still bought her first vibrator when she was fifteen. But these feelings were different. She realised her nude displays hadn’t been as innocent as she’d originally thought. But she simply couldn’t turn off what turned her on.

She tried to ignore the queasy thump in her belly, and the terrible slick sensation she felt between her thighs. But it was no good. Her free hand slid slowly over her hip and dipped under the waistband of her shorts. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her finger reached her clit and began to swirl. She couldn’t stop herself. Just like the night before. And the night before that.

To Iz’s relief, she didn’t hear from either of the Zeedyks the following evening, nor the next. But it was now Saturday and she was nervous. This was the one day of the week she knew she was definitely expected to join them. The hours passed. She felt unable to concentrate upon her books, so she turned on her television and surfed channels aimlessly. She continually looked up at the clock on her wall. It felt like an eternity until seven arrived.

“I’m just going next door, Mom.” She called as she slipped out. She crept forward, unsure of what was truly best to do. Finally she decided she simply had no choice but to continue. Steeling herself, Iz knocked on the door, opened it, and slipped inside. She felt awkward and embarrassed all over again. Dr Z came into the hallway to greet her.

“Hello Iz! Come on in!” He stood looking at her, with a look of expectancy on his face. After a beat Iz realised what he was waiting for. Sheepishly, she unbuttoned the flowery shirt she was wearing, and took off her jeans. He led her into the kitchen.

Iz kept mostly silent through their meal, rarely venturing into the conversation unless prodded. She picked at her food. Mrs Z eyed her husband. He cleared his throat.

“Is everything okay, my dear?”

“Yes … I’m fine. Sorry.” Iz replied.

“That’s okay. Remember, there’s nothing to worry about. Would you like to begin your exercises now?”

With effort, Iz nodded.

Dr Z placed the box onto the table again. Iz’s shoulders slumped automatically. Her eyes zoned in on the glimmering crystal. Her head bobbed as she was encouraged to relax and finally to sleep. Once they had completed the relaxation process, Mrs Z spoke in a soft, comforting manner.

“Iz, is everything okay? Remember, you know that you can be completely open and honest. You will always tell the truth to us.”

“I know … I know what I’m doing.” Iz whispered.

“What is it you’re doing, dear?” She asked.

“I’m … exposing myself to you every night.”

“And is that becoming a problem for you?”

“It … it’s been making me hot.”

“Do you mean that you feel sexually aroused when you practice for us?”

“… yes …” She flushed in embarrassment.

Silence filled the dining room for a moment as the married couple sat looking at each other. Eventually Dr Z smiled.

“That is perfectly natural, Iz. In fact, it means you are responding precisely how we expected you to respond. Pleasing others pleases yourself, and that pleasure can take many varied forms. Sexual excitement is something we have previously noted in our trials. Rest assured, our study is proceeding excellently.”

Iz exhaled a long sigh of relief, her fears assuaged. They weren’t mad at her at all! She had felt so nervous, so ashamed, for no reason at all.

“In fact, my dear, you may feel that your arousal increases greatly as you practice your routine, now that you have admitted the truth to us.”

Iz felt a queer spasm in her loins when he said that.

“That arousal will build and build inside your body as you continue to pose for us. You will discover levels of arousal you have never felt before.”

Mrs Z then picked up the thread.

“When we call you a “Good Girl”, do you think that means we are pleased with your performance?”

“Yes.” Iz said.

“That’s correct. It means we are very pleased. You will know that you have done well, and you know that deserves a reward. What do you think your reward should be, Iz?”

“An … orgasm?” She asked, hopefully.

“Very good. When you are told you are a “Good Girl”, you may orgasm. Does that make you happy?”

Iz nodded vigorously.

“Excellent. Now come, join us and let’s begin.”

They walked into the living room together.

She stood up straight and tall, raised her arms, and knitted her fingers together. First the Doctor counted. She felt that familiar tingle that made her hairs stand on end. She knelt and crossed her wrists. Mrs Z took her turn to count. They liked to alternate. The heat that Iz loved so much enveloped her body. Her nipples hardened as she saw the couple looking at her. She turned around, pressed her face onto the floor, and folded her legs until she could grip her ankles in her hands. They’re looking right at my … pussy, she thought, and she felt herself begin to get wet. She began shivering as embarrassment and excitement mingled together. They counted. She stood and bent over until she grasped her ankles. Her thighs trembled. They counted. She arched back up and held her mouth open. She was almost shaking with anticipation, knowing deep inside that she was very soon going to feel so, so good. They counted. Finally, she lay down on her back, placed her soles flat, and pulled her legs apart. She listened to Dr Z count.

He reached sixty. Iz waited, her body twittering, waiting to be called a Good Girl. Instead, she heard something entirely unexpected.

“Iz, stand up. Start again.” Dr Z commanded.

She was dismayed. They had never asked her to perform her routine twice. She wasn’t sure if she could manage it, she felt so erotically charged.

She stretched herself, her skin prickling with perspiration. They counted. She knelt. They counted. She lay face down and gripped her ankles. She could feel her nipples press painfully into the carpet. They counted. She bent over. She could feel herself trickling from her stretched lips. An obscene drip of arousal fell slowly from between her legs to the floor. She was almost sobbing with desire. They counted. She held her mouth open. She saw pulsing green and red blobs in her vision as she held her head upside down. They counted. She lay, planted her feet, and pulled her legs wide apart. Mrs Z this time finished the count. Iz felt her entire body pulse with unquenched desire.

“Stand up. Start again.”

Oh my god … oh my god … oh my god! Iz screamed internally. She felt as though she were going to explode. There was no way she could do it again. But she had to. With her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, she stood up once again.

Iz had never felt such torture. She was shaking as she tried to stretch her arms up. She could barely hear them count. Their voices were distant. She knelt and failed to hold still. She wanted to beg, to plead. She folded her legs towards her buttocks and held on while somewhere, miles away, they counted. She stood and bent over and felt herself dripping and no longer cared. She spread herself as best she could manage and opened her mouth. The room was spinning by the time she fell onto her back with a moan. She pumped her hips into the air.

Finally, mercifully, Iz heard the words.

“Good Girl!”

Iz scattered. Her whole body shook and convulsed as she orgasmed. Waves of pleasure crashed all through her body. When they reached her head she lost all knowledge of anything. The pulsating electricity she felt in her clitoris raced through her body. Spasms jerked at her limbs. All control left her as pure joy blanked her mind for a moment.

Iz opened her eyes. She saw both Zeedyks standing above her, inspecting her.

She had no idea how long it had taken her to return to her senses.

“How do you feel, my dear?” The Doctor asked.

“Won … wonderful …” Iz smiled groggily.

“Excellent. Well done.” He said. Iz flushed even redder. He reached down and helped the girl to her feet. He allowed his wife to take her by the shoulders and lead her from the room. Mrs Z gently helped her back into her clothes, and caressed her shoulder as she escorted her to the door.

“We’re so proud of you, dear. Get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow night.” Into her hand she pressed an additional reward: another little Wibele cookie.

Iz barely made it back to her room. With tiny aftershocks of pleasure still quivering through her body, Iz fell on top of her bed and into a deep, contented sleep, the taste of vanilla still on her tongue.