The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

ABSTRACT:

In today’s world of superheroes and villains, of prophecies and so-called ‘mad’ scientists, many real scientists have given up and announced that ‘super-powers’ must exist outside the realm of physics. Mark my words: these ‘heroes’ will one day, fall! Why are we content to allow the supers to prance around in their capes without a care for “equal and opposite reactions!”

Today I find myself behind the discovery that will transform humanity with nearly limitless energy! My genius has overcome the shackles of rationality to usher in a new era of power and pleasure unending as I proudly join the ranks of the greatest minds in history! Those who mocked me will suffer! Steel-John and Hypno-Jane can’t stop me! None of The Vigil can get in my way!

My name is Matthew Hart, and I have found a way to stop time within a limited area and focus the sexual desire of those within the volume into a feedback loop. Soon I will be able harness that ever increasing raw sexual energy, and use it to charge a battery—to power the world!

Soon the world will know my name, and rue the day they mocked me!

It started with a mistake in the lab. As an intern, my job was to clean up the experiments after the so-called ‘real’ scientists were through. When everybody else went home, I fed and watered the lab rats. I washed and autoclaved the glassware. I scoured the crucibles and the hotplates, mopped the floor, wiped down the hoods and jacked-off in the leather swivel chair behind the desk of Dr. Hakiko Brown, PhD.

Oh yes. She had that ‘stern librarian’ look, that just became a sort of raw sexual energy when it was wrapped in a lab coat!

There’s a picture here on her desk of her smiling family at the beach. There’s my Hakiko in the arms of a man who could never love her the way that I do! She’s right there in that bathing suit and he’s looking at the camera instead of her amazing body!

And there’s her daughter beside them, like a smaller version of her mom, but younger and bustier! She looks like she’s 18 or 19 years old in the picture, and more than capable of taking me on with her mom. If only I had been there instead of this neanderthal, Mr. Brown!

In my mind, that’s exactly where I was! My arms are wrapped around both women. The daughter’s nipples are poking through the thin fabric of her white one-piece swimsuit, stretched tight against her chest, while showing off her muscular arms and legs. She pulls her suit down, freeing her beautiful tits.

Standing behind me, her mother reaches around to grab my cock as the daughter buries my face in her tits. She grabs my hair as she kisses me forcefully! She slowly lowers herself down onto my cock as Hakiko positions it for her.

She wraps her legs around my hips, and her arms around my chest, helplessly pinning my arms at my sides with her powerful muscles, just as I want her to. She twerks her hips and begins thrusting against my cock, in and out, moving nothing but her hips. Her pussy is so hot and so tight I’m about to cum!

I’m cumming!!

Um.

Well.

I’m always sure to clean up after myself. Hakiko keeps her office spotlessly clean, and I don’t want to give her any reason to think I’ve been jacking off here. The last thing I want here is a visit from The Universal Witness.

When I was done cleaning up, and had returned to the lab room beside her office, I noticed that something had changed. The last thing Hakiko did before she left for the day was to discipline me for improperly cleaning the Erlenmeyer flasks. She tied me up and whipped me while—okay, fine. I got a stern reprimand, and that was it.

Her experiment had failed. She made three attempts before she decided to see if perhaps the flasks weren’t clean. She did a few tests and found compounds left over from a previous experiment. At some point, she realized that if you held one of the contaminated flasks up to white light, you could see tiny transparent crystals on the surface of the glass refracting the sunlight into rainbows. She had lined up all of our contaminated flasks on the windowsill for me to clean.

When I stepped out from her office, the three flasks that contained the combination of yesterday’s residue and today’s reagents... were now glowing. Even more interesting, I found that standing near the glow made me horny. Could I refine and concentrate this effect? This warranted some further research.

—by Matthew Hart, from a document found on his phone

HYPOTHESIS:

Matthew Hart was an intern at my mother’s ‘old chemistry’ lab. Everyone knew him as Matty. Mom often complained about the shoddy work he would do around the lab, to the point that she, on several occasions, had nearly fired him. He was an unpaid intern, but sometimes his actions crossed from bungling ineptitude to something that was almost sabotage.

He was usually in the lab alone after closing, so when reagents and test equipment started going missing, he was the first suspect. Unfortunately, “pre-super” science just wasn’t popular—who would want to work at such a useless place. With no real budget and almost no staff, it was hard to fire an unpaid intern even if he was only occasionally helpful.

“I just can’t believe that someone’s STEALING that stuff,” complained Mom one day. “The missing chemicals can’t be used to make drugs, or bombs, or… well,” she shrugged and shook her head in confusion, “much of anything, really. Not using old-chem, at least. I’m not going to accuse him without evidence, but there’s really nobody else I can imagine doing it.”

“Maybe he thinks he’s ‘doing science’ and just randomly mixing things together in the lab after hours,” I pointed out.

“Well Erika, I suppose that’s possible. We’ll know soon enough—the hidden cameras are being installed next week. I just want them up and running before I have to leave for the conference. I guess I’ll have a lot of footage to review when I get back.”

“I’ll help, Mom.”

“Thanks honey, but you don’t need to.”

“Ha! With all the stories you’ve told me about this guy, I want to be the one to catch him prancing around in a lab coat pretending to be a scientist!”

“Now Erika,” Mom chided me, “we still don’t know if it’s him. Maybe one of the postgrads is doing it, or it could be… " she trailed off, failing to come up with an alternative.

Matty was the hypothesis. Next came the testing, analysis, conclusion, and appropriate action.

I wanted to catch this guy. Nobody steals from my mom’s lab.

INTRODUCTION:

A week later, the cameras were in and we could log into the server to watch live and pre-recorded footage.

Mom peeked her head into my room. “I’m going to go pack my bag, Erika.”

Unfortunately, we didn’t have any time to study the first day’s footage before she needed to leave for her conference.

“Okay. I’ll scan through some of the video while you’re gone.”

Mom shrugged. “If you really want to. I’m content to wait until I’m back, but… be my guest.”

I decided to play the recorded footage from each day on my second monitor whenever I was gaming—which was pretty much whenever I wasn’t at work. Before you get all up in my face about the health benefits of exercise, and not just sitting in front of a computer all day you should know that ‘work’ is at a fitness center. I lead classes on aerobics and physical fitness, as well as yoga, meditation, and mental health. After a day of all that, I think I’ve earned my evenings of blasting away the digital bad guys in the latest game. I play my computer games, I work. Somewhere in there I sleep and eat. Friends? They’re either online, playing the same game as I am, or… you guessed it, ‘at work,’ and we hang out in the staff room during lunch.

I started the playback from the point when Mom left the lab at 4:00. There was Matty getting started with the cleanup. There wasn’t much going on, so I was able to focus on my game pretty much fully while he washed, cleaned, etc…. All pretty boring.

I started up my game, logged in, and lost track of the time.

“Ewwww!”

I had happened to glance at the (previously boring) security footage to see our suspect in Mom’s office with his dick out. I wanted to go kick his ass right away, but this was all pre-recorded, and I had no idea where he might be NOW. Either way, this footage would get him kicked out of the lab fast!

My initial disgust kind of turned into some sort of curiosity, and I kept watching. His dick was nothing special. I’d only had two boyfriends that I’d slept with, and both of them were bigger than Matty. It was gross, especially because he was at work in my mother’s office, but at the same time, I had never watched somebody masturbating before. I’d seen a few porn videos (I’ve been online, they’re almost unavoidable), but I never just sat there and watched one. Maybe this was different because I knew who he was and where he was.

It was turning me on despite how unattractive he was. I kind of wished I was watching the Tai Chi instructor from work instead of Matty. I clicked the fast-forward button, but that was worse. Watching him desperately masturbating at that ridiculous rate was pretty funny, but also really hot. I could see him go ‘from 0 to 60’ in almost no time. Just the idea of someone cumming that quickly was a bit of a turn-on. I mean, my ex-bf felt really bad about how quickly he came, but I don’t really know why he felt so bad about it; I kind of felt some pride that I was getting him off so successfully! I guess it’s something about getting or giving so much pleasure in such a short period of time.

Just to be clear, I was NOT attracted to scrawny Matty. He could stand to spend some time at my gym. (Oh god, what an awful thought! Stay away!) But they say that power is attractive, and this footage definitely gave me power over him.

But it’s what happened next that cemented his doom. After he cleaned himself up, got dressed, wiped down the chair and the desk, and even swept the floor, he then headed to the mop closet, stepped in, and closed the door behind himself. Even on fast forward, he was in there for a while. Maybe he was taking a shower in the mop sink?

When he did come out, he was pushing a stack of storage bins on a two-wheeled dolly cart. He took them to one of the lab rooms, and proceeded to set up equipment for an experiment.

This was it.

I grew up in the lab. I can tell a spectrometer from an electron microscope, as they say. But I had no idea what Matty was doing. Yes, he was mixing and heating various chemicals that I couldn’t identify from camera footage. But he was also using devices that looked to be hand-made, or heavily modified. There were wires all over the outside of these things.

I should have been able to see that we’d crossed the line from old-chemistry and old-physics into the realm of super-science and mad-science. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I didn’t realize that until later, when it was much too late.

When he pulled a rat-cage out from one of the boxes, I was officially weirded out. It made no sense. How could he keep this collection of equipment and test animals stacked in the mop room without someone saying “hmm, I don’t think this is where rats and electrical engineering projects are supposed to be stored.”

He removed something that looked like a glowing crystal from one device and loaded it into another. When he pointed this new device at a rat, there was a flash of light. What on earth is he doing? If this is where everything has been disappearing to, has he been working on this secret experiment for the better part of a year?

Suddenly, I realized that I still hadn’t told Mom about any of this.

“Hey, Mom?”

She didn’t answer. I got up from my chair, and headed out of my room to get her, but she had fallen asleep on the couch. She does that a lot when Dad gets deployed, leaving the two of us alone for a few weeks. Yes, I’m 22 and I live with my parents. Get over it. Still, she really should get a good night’s sleep before leaving for her conference. I turned off the TV and the light, and put a blanket over her.

Back in my room, the playback footage had slowed down to ‘real-time’ when it had reached the end of the pre-recorded footage. What I was looking at was happening NOW. Matty was nowhere to be seen, and all of the equipment was gone.

I hesitated only a second, then I grabbed mom’s lab keys, ran out and jumped into my car. I could get to the lab in 5 minutes flat when I hit traffic right, and it was just after midnight. I probably should have done just about ANYTHING other than that, but I felt like Sherlock Holmes, or Dick Tracey, or even Universal Witness! When you crack the case, you confront the criminal.

I pulled up to the lab and parked on the street. I rushed to the door, but ended up fumbling around with the keys for a minute, trying to find the one that fit.

The lights were on, but that didn’t mean Matty was still in the building—they kept the lights on at night for security, for all the good it had done them. Just in case, I stepped into the receptionist’s office and hit the button on the phone labeled “page all.”

“I know what you’ve been doing, Matty!”

The sound echoed down the hallways, broadcast from the speaker of every phone in the building.

“I know you’re here!”

Actually, neither was true. I headed for the mop closet. This was the moment of truth. I flung open the door and… found nothing special. A utility sink, some mops and brooms, some cleaning chemicals and supplies on shelves. A box of trash bags. You get the idea.

I know they say that people never look UP, but for some reason I did. There was a hatch in the ceiling that apparently led to the attic. The thrill of the chase was a real turn on. with the footage I had, I knew I could make him do whatever I wanted him to. I wasn’t planning on actually blackmailing him, but the thought of doing so was almost unbearably sexy. I never expected the thrill of the chase to be so erotic. Instead of pulling off my clothes, I forcibly pushed the thought from my mind and looked around for a way up. The sturdy shelves were securely bolted to the wall. So I climbed them.

The hatch was a square piece of plywood painted white. Four pieces of trim around the edge gave the panel a frame to rest upon. I pushed the plywood up and poked my head into the attic. It was dark, but a bit of light was escaping into the attic from light fixtures mounted in the ceiling of the hallway below. There was lots of pink insulation. There were wooden beams in rows. One of the beams was also the side of the hatch. That’s important because I probably would have fallen and broken my neck a moment later if it hadn’t been there… here’s what I mean:

I took a quick glance behind me at the rest of the attic before climbing back down… or at least that was the plan. Instead, I saw Matty when I glanced over my shoulder. He was crouching in the attic on a small wooden platform with piles of storage bins all around him. He was holding a device that looked something like an old-fashioned camera—the kind with a big handheld flash with a reflective parabola to direct the light.

When it went off, I was suddenly having an orgasm.

Talk about 0 to 60! I was so startled that my feet slipped off the shelves and I grabbed hold of the wooden beam. I hung there convulsing in waves of pleasure for a moment. When I was sure I could keep my balance, I let go and dropped to the floor. Matty suddenly popped into existence right in front of my eyes and held the device up.

With a bright flash, Matty vanished as quickly as he had appeared. Along with him, my clothes vanished. I was also hit with another orgasm, but nothing like the first.

Instead of waves of pleasure, I felt like I was receiving all the sensations of a very rough extended lovemaking session all crammed into a single heartbeat. I was truly fucked in every sense of the word.

Yes, I came.

Yes, it hurt.

No, I couldn’t find my clothes. He had left me my car-keys, phone, and wallet on a shelf.

This is the scene where I report to the authorities that I’d been raped by an unregistered super with a mad-tech device that stops time, right?

Well, no.

You see, something was messing with my mind, and I didn’t think of doing anything like reporting it. Plus, mind-control villany just wasn’t a thing. Other than Hypno Jane (who’s a hero), and actual old-style hypnosis (which takes time and cooperation), there really wasn’t any reason to suspect that I wasn’t my usual self.

But I wasn’t my usual self. For example, I was all alone naked in the mop closet at my mom’s work. I could probably have found a lab coat somewhere, or mummified myself with a roll of paper towels for modesty. There were plenty of things I could have done, but I didn’t think of them at the time. Instead, I decided that streaking was my only option. I ran down the hallway in the buff, ran to my car parked on the street, drove home naked, ran across the yard, tip-toed through the living room, and hurried to my bedroom, all the while praying that nobody would see me! I paused for a moment in my room, then turned around and went back out into the hallway. I stepped into the bathroom and turned the hot water on all the way in the shower.

I lathered, scrubbed, rinsed, and repeated until I felt better, then climbed into bed hoping that I’d wake up from the nightmare in the morning.

The good news is that I actually did feel better when I woke up. The bad news is that I had completely forgotten everything that had happened.

When I woke up, I was feeling pretty sore from…

From a round of intense sex... with…

Uh… with my boyfriend. Yeah! Wow, things got pretty intense, but I like it rough sometimes. Just thinking about it made me horny again, so I started masturbating. Of course I recorded it with my phone to post for my followers on kinkstagram, like I…

like I did every morning. Yeah. I hit record and propped my phone on a pile of blankets so it had a good view of my pussy.

I started out slow, even though I was already pretty ‘hot and bothered.’ I traced my fingers around my nipples in little circles that shot little electric jolts of pleasure across my skin. I kept going until I couldn’t bear to ignore my clit any longer. Moaning out loud, I pressed the heel of my hand against my clit, my hips pushing back instinctively. It felt so good. A tingling wave of goosebumps washed over me.

Then I started tracing my finger in a slow and steady rhythm around my clit. Not slowing down, not speeding up. Tiny circles, gently, lightly, softly. Around and around, and around. Erotic fantasies flowed through my mind.

At first, I was lying in bed with Hypno-Jane. She was looking me in the eyes and talking to me, telling me that I was frozen in time, unable to move, unable to even blink. I was staring right back at her eyes, unable to look away. At the edges of my vision, I saw Steel-John climb onto the bed, his massive polished metal body reflecting my own, naked and helpless. He must have removed the loincloth he famously always wore because John’s ‘John’ was suddenly sliding into me.

No, it wasn’t Steel-John, it was someone else. It was my boyfriend. Hypno-Jane was replaced in my fantasy with a machine that could control my mind.

I was hypnotized and helpless, frozen in place while someone… while my boyfriend spoke commands directly into my subconscious. His machine could stop time and turn off my mind. And he could use it on me whenever he wanted to.

That delicious feeling of helplessness, of being a toy for someone else, knowing that they were getting pleasure from my body—the feelings were almost enough to make me cum right away, but I took a few deep breaths and mentally pulled myself back from the edge. Slow and steady… this constant wash of pleasure was my entire world right now. I wanted to stay here, edging for as long as I could.

In my fantasy, time was frozen, and my mind turned off. Matthew was still moving while the world stood still. He could speak directly into my mind in the space between time. If he told me to cum when I woke up, I would cum when I—

“Ah, ah… Oh! OH! not-yet-not-yet…”

Or he could pose me like a mannequin and...

“Oh- Oh- Oh…” still gently circling my clit with my finger I tried to hold out. I felt my muscles tightening all through my body. I clenched my teeth and arched my back, taking a deep, hissing breath as I felt my orgasm building well past the point of no return. And then…

Like an explosion, the orgasm hit me, knocking the wind out of me. All of my muscles that had been stretched and straining suddenly reversed, clenching hard as my hips thrust themselves up and my abs pulled my shoulders up off of the bed into a crunch that would have made my fitness instructors proud. My legs and arms quivered. My free hand grabbed the sheets while my other hand tried to keep the moment going for as long as I could.

When the orgasm faded, I lay still for a while to catch my breath. Then I picked up my phone. I blew a kiss to the camera, winked, and saved the file. I watched the footage and it seemed pretty good. The camera had a great closeup view of my pussy when I came, and you could see my juices forming a wet puddle on the sheets as I got closer and closer. I hadn’t even realized I had been making those little whimpering sounds through most of it!

“Ok, now to log in and post it… open the app... username ‘help me’...

“be… because… I want them to... help me masturbate each morning, of course.”

I uploaded my orgasm to the internet with the caption “Don’t you wish you were here to help me?”

Perfect.

I got dressed for work. Since I work at a gym, that means a sports bra and yoga pants. On a whim, I decided to skip the panties. Hey—if the guys in my classes decide they want to keep coming back to stare at Erika’s camel-toe, then that’s good for business, right?

I paused as I was about to step out of my room, but I wasn’t really sure why. Something just wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“Help me.”

Yes, that was it. I wasn’t really happy about my channel name. I opened kinkstagram on my phone. It was true, the name really didn’t ‘sell’ the content.

“Help me.”

Maybe I could change the name later. You can do that, right? Especially on new channels. I’ve only had that channel live for…

For… a long time. I’ve always done this. I mean, look at how many followers I have…

One.

Uh… wow, I have one… um… one really loyal group of followers. I shouldn’t worry about any of this.

“It’s not me.”

That’s right. Who’s worried? Not me.

Although I should probably stop talking to myself and get out the door.

Everything will be fine.