The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Walk Away

Kayla wasn’t exactly sure why she was doing this. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Well, she had one reason she knew of: Because ‘Bitkeeper’ had told her too.

She didn’t even know his real name. ‘Bitkeeper’ was just the alias he used online, who she’d started chatting with. She’d let him hypnotize her over chat, first not quite believing that he could do it, then because she enjoyed it. They talked about life, about her classes, about sex.

A lot about sex.

Somewhere along the line he’d started giving her suggestions of things to do: Kayla wasn’t exactly sure when. Nor could she remember exactly when—or if—she’d last refused one. They’d been fun, and mostly harmless: going without panties for a day, emailing him a picture of her nude, that sort of thing.

Nothing quite like today though. She wasn’t even sure what all his instructions had been for today. Actually, it had started yesterday: She had gone and bought a new phone, with cash. A pay-per-use cellphone.

Then she had called him on it.

Kayla had heard his voice before; they’d progressed to voice-chats and even the occasional video chat (well, one-sided video chat...) a long time ago. She hadn’t thought anything of that, really. Nor on the fact that she couldn’t account for some time during the evening: he regularly hypnotized her, after all.

Packing a bag of her sexiest outfits this morning had been unusual. Deciding her computer needed to be reformatted was odd, but it was a Windows machine.

She hadn’t thought those were connected to her online and fantasy life.

Yes, her fantasy life. She hadn’t had those conversations because she didn’t want to, after all. And, being given hypnotic roll-play sessions at night was not just fun, but, well, she enjoyed what happened during them as well. Enjoyed feeling like she was some girl in a harem, or a pleasure-slave, or...

There had been a lot of sessions. Kayla had even suggested the themes to some of them.

And, at night, after the imaginary sessions were done, she dreamed of living them on her own, without any prompting from him.

Occasionally she’d wondered what would happen if she asked—Bitkeeper or someone else—to help make them real.

Now however, she was Union Station. She’d just parked her car in the ramp, and walked in. Her first stop had been the lost and found, where she’d handed over her keys, saying she’d found them on the ground in the parking lot.

That had felt very odd: she’d known what she was doing, but she didn’t seem to have any control over it. She just heard her voice say the words, and watched her hands hand the keys over. It had been an oddly pleasant feeling, and she’d enjoyed it.

She wasn’t worried about what she had done, which Kayla found odder yet.

Her next stop had been the ATM, where she’d emptied her checking account. The money had not gone into her purse: it had gone into her bag, with the clothes.

Now she was walking past the train and bus ticket stations, and had pulled her wallet out of her purse. As she watched, her hands removed her credit cards from their slots, and held them together.

The next few minutes were interesting for Kayla: she was getting to explore the station, which she had never really had a time to do before. There were shops, and restaurants, and all kinds of stuff here.

And she was dropping the credit cards off in out-of-the-way places. Nothing too hidden, or so unusual that it couldn’t look accidental, but...

The storekeepers would not be the first to see them.

Then she went to BurgerKing, pulled her new phone out of her purse, ordered lunch and left her purse next to the table as she left. Like any absent-minded person could.

Except she knew she was doing it.

Her next step was to dial her phone. Again, her fingers dialed without her mind intervening, and she was only mildly surprised to hear Bitkeeper’s voice on the other end. “Hi there. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” For what, she wasn’t sure. But Kayla was sure she was ready.

“Ok, across the street from the main door is a park. When you exit the building, take the crosswalk on your right and keep going forward. Stop at the third bench.” He hung up.

Now Kayla was curious. Had she agreed to this? What was happening?

They were meeting, it appeared...

Meanwhile her feet had led her out the door, and were waiting for the light to change before she crossed the street.

She looked down at herself. If they were meeting, she wanted to make a good impression. Her jeans-and-blouse look was basic, but not unattractive... She had better in her backpack, she knew.

She could have worn them this morning. ‘Dressed up’ a bit for this. But Kayla thought she knew why she didn’t: her parent’s would have noticed, commented when she left the house dressed for a date in the morning. Sure as a college-bound high school graduate she could do what she wanted, and they wouldn’t have stopped her by any means, but they would have noticed.

And she got the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be noticed. At least, not yet.

Three benches down... There was a man sitting on that bench. Average build, mid-twenties or so. Glasses, and a little out of shape but fairly attractive. Not a hunk, but not the worst guy in sight either, even discounting the homeless man begging at the streetcorner. His shirt was neat and pressed, not just another t-shirt.

Kayla stopped in front of him.

He stood up, put out his hand. “Hi, Nightbird.” That was her name, from the chats, and that was Bitkeeper’s voice.

Something turned inside of her. The pleasant haze she’d drifted in this morning started to lift, but at the same time Kayla found herself reevaluating the attractiveness of this man in front of her. He wasn’t a hunk, but he was attractive. Very attractive.

She took his hand. “Hi. Bitkeeper?”

He smiled. “That’s me. Here, let me take that backpack for you.” She slid it around, and he pressed a button on a remote he pulled from a pocket. The car parked in front of them’s truck popped. Her backpack went inside. He pressed another button and the doors unlocked. “Hop in.”

He took the driver’s seat, and Kayla paused a moment, considering.

Logic was fairly clear: Don’t enter that car. But logic would have said no to a lot of things today, and while the mental ‘haze’ was lifting, the pleasant feeling wasn’t. And, to be honest, a part of her really wondered what was the worst that could happen? That he took her away to live her fantasies of submission? That wasn’t bad, that was a reward.

He just looked up at her after settling in. Kayla went around to the passenger seat and got in, feeling pleased with herself for doing so. “Where are we going?”

“Home.” He pulled into traffic.

“What’s going on?”

He took his eyes off the road a moment, looking at her. For a moment he looked like he was about to answer, then a grin grew on his face. “I’ll tell you when we get there. For now, hush.”

Then he turned back to the road, letting one hand settle in her lap.

Kayla wanted to ask again, or at least have him take his hand off her leg, but kept silent. It was time for her to ponder and speculate.

Or to just let her fantasies distract her...

In what seemed like no time he was pulling up to a parking space in an underground garage, then leading her to the elevator and through the door to his apartment. He waited until they were inside before speaking again. “So, Nightbird...”

Kayla was looking around the apartment, trying to get a sense of where she was. “You can call me Kayla, since we are meeting in the real world.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and turned her to face him. “Kayla is gone. She disappeared into that train station, never to be seen or heard from again.”

“But...”

“They’ll come looking. But you could have gone anywhere in the country from there. And I’m betting that whomever picks up your cards will lay a few false trails. Kayla is gone. Run, or rather walked, away from her home and life. You have a new life now.”

“What makes you think I’ll stay here? That I’ll agree to this?” She knew he’d have an answer. Something she couldn’t refute, and she was looking forward to it.

“Oh, that’s easy. Take off your blouse.”

That wasn’t what she’d expected. “I don’t see how that answers my question. I could walk out right now.”

Her blouse hit the floor beside her. “But you won’t. And it is an answer. Ask yourself, truly, based on what you have become, what you would do if I asked?”

The answer blossomed in her mind. She spoke it as she realized it: “Anything you say.”

“Take off your pants. And what have you become?”

Each syllable brought pleasure, as she admitted her new life. “Your sex slave.”

“Good girl. Now kneel and get to work.”

She obeyed eagerly, sure of exactly why she was doing this:

Because her owner had asked.