The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Joan sat in the cafeteria, finishing off a completely uninspiring lunch. Her legs were crossed at the knees to prevent the boys at the next table from trying to look up her skirt under the table. She toyed with a french fry, finally finishing it with a gulp which made a chubby freshman boy who was watching her mouth intensely squirm. Wrapping her lips around the straw, she sucked on her milkshake until every drop was gone, recrossed her legs the other way, then glanced at the chubby kid. He had gone pale. She smiled at him, then turned away and began gathering her books.

A fellow in his twenties strolled over. Joan had never seen him before, but thought he was cute. He raised a camera and smiled. Joan began to object, but he raised it and snapped the shutter. The flash seemed to leave spinning disks in her eyes. She blinked as he sat down.

“Don’t raise your voice or act different. I’m a friend, you’re glad to see me.” he said earnestly. We’re going to talk, and then leave together.”

Joan was filled with joy. Her friend was here, and she was going with him. What was going on here? She smiled blissfully. “What the hell did you do to me?” she cooed.

“Subliminal instructions and a charged particle beam. During that second when your brain’s fried, you’ll believe anything. You’ll do what you’re told until I give you the reverse treatment. Isn’t it great?” He patted the camera, which seemed ordinary.

Joan cautiously tried to get up. Her legs wouldn’t move, and she found that she didn’t really want to..

He patted her arm encouragingly. “It’s OK. I just want sex, not your car or all your money. This time tomorrow you’ll have forgotten about it. Think about this: I can make you come like Christmas. Slowly and joyfully, with great anticipation. Don’t you like sex? You’ll be very happy.”

Joan’s knees trembled. How could she escape? Would someone save her? She licked her lips. If someone saved her she wouldn’t come. Suddenly she was hot and willing. I’m going nuts, she thought. I’m going to be very happy, she corrected herself absently. The man had told her so.

“Come on,” said the fellow, rising and offering her his arm. She stood and took it, carefully gathering her books. Suddenly a cold chill of fright made her arms rise in goose pimples. The tiny hairs on her arms stood up and her nipples began to pinch. Where was she going? What would happen to her? With a broad smile she accompanied her kidnapper out to the parking lot. Several people whose faces were familiar nodded as they passed. The man unlocked and opened an old 70-something Plymouth, nodding as she eagerly got in on the passenger’s side.

Joan shivered. The sandy-haired man started up the big car and pulled away from the campus. Would she ever see it again? She stared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m horny,” he explained nonchalantly. “I’ve been looking for a girl to photograph all day. I almost snapped that blonde by the door. Then I saw you teasing those kids with your long legs in that skirt. You knew they were looking, and you teased them. I like redheads, and you seem like a hot girl, not a virgin or uptight. You’re proud of your body. Why wouldn’t you be singled out as the hottest babe on campus?”

“Please let me go,” she said hopefully. “I’m scared.” Oops, she thought.

“No, you’re not,” he smiled, and she wasn’t. “I’m a bit twisted, but not like Ted Bundy. You’ll be all better tomorrow, I promise. See, since I figured this out I’ve only used it for scamming girls and smoothing over little problems. I got one guy that I really hated, and I combined business and pleasure there. He was a bank loan officer, wouldn’t cut my dad any slack when we lost our house. I took his picture and had him embezzle eighty grand, then confess. He’s doing seven to ten, and I won’t have to work for a while. But I’ve done, " his lips moved silently, counting, “seven girls since I started, and never hurt one yet.” He smiled arrogantly. “No one but me could have made a particle beam that small, that can shock the brain without burning the skin. And no one would think of using a subliminal with it. My old bosses are on the wrong track and going fast away from this. Before I die I’ll burn it.”

“Almost a shame,” Joan said thoughtfully. with a shock she realized that she wasn’t scared anymore. Partly from the order, and partly because she believed this guy. No one really evil would even consider burning a tool like this. Joan imagined photographing her favorite tv stars. Hmm. What a great idea. Then she imagined being photographed by the chubby freshman. Ugh. Yes, burning it was the way to go. She stretched luxuriously, enjoying the way her breasts rubbed her blouse.

She realized that she wanted this. She would have escaped if she could, called police and seen this man in jail. The thought gave her a pang. She looked hard at her new owner. He was watching the road, a cute smile on his face. He was clean-shaven, with mouse-brown hair over his ears. His hands on the wheel were strong, with tapering fingers. His nails were short. His clothes were clean and neat. His shoulders and upper arms bulged, and his jeans were tight over his crotch. She forced her eyes away and stared out the window. She realized she was humming and forced the smile off her face. She was being kidnapped! And raped! Brainwashed! About to be used as a sex object! Made to have unusual orgasms for this man’s gloating amusement! Maybe he would—she broke off that train of thought, blushing. She had rarely orgasmed to her satisfaction. She was not very experienced, and her boyfriends had generally fumbled it in with no foreplay, humped a few times, and awed by her sweet face and plump breasts, come immediately. Only her second boyfriend had ever fucked her to orgasm, and that seemd to be because he felt he owed it to her rather than because he wanted Joan herself instead of merely ‘tonight’s woman’ to have pleasure. And this irresistible man had promised to make her come slowly. She blushed and thought of jumping out of the car to escape. Joan knew she wanted this. Wanted to be—forced? Taught?

The scenery rushed past. it seemed like a long time, but she knew it was only minutes. They were out of the city, but she couldn’t place the road. Traffic thinned. “Where are we going?” Joan asked timidly. How long—until? She thought.

“My place in the woods,” he replied cheerfully. “You’ll like it. I call it the Unabomber’s shack.” He snickered. “Just a cabin.” He turned off on a dirt road, bumping easily over the ruts in his big car. in a minute or so he turned off on another dirt road, then a grass-overgrown driveway. “All out,” he announced, walking around to open her car door. Joan stepped out and stared. His cabin was unpainted and half-covered in kudzu vine and honeysuckle just beginnng to flower. An old silver house-trailer had been grafted onto the back, a fan whirred in the open window. Bees buzzed cheerfully. She liked it. It lifted Joan’s spirits to be kidnapped by a man who lived in such a beautiful place, like a picture in a magazine. He probably had a beautiful soul. She was whistling under her breath again and stopped angrily. Her mind had been tampered with. she was a pawn. A helpless pawn. Sigh. Keep your mind on business, she thought. Can I run? Her legs wanted to go in that cabin very badly. The man took her hand and pulled her firmly towards the door. They stepped inside, into cocoa-colored shadows and the whoosh of the fan.

“I’ve got to pee,” she said automatically, startling herself. The man nodded vaguely and flipped a hand. He was opening a cabinet filled with CDs. She stepped back to the bathroom and pulled up her skirt, yanking down her panties. As she released her urine, her clit gave a sudden furious throbbing. “Aaah,” she sighed loudly, startling herself. She pissed for a long time, then massaged her kidneys and peed another squirt. As she dried herself, she found her clit throbbing as the paper brushed it. She touched herself and was amazed by the need. It had been a week since the last bit of infrequent masturbation and a long time since the last unsatisfying fuck. If she didn’t get up she was going to start rubbing it right there -

The thought of the sandy-haired man opening the door to find her like that brought her to her feet, blushing furiously. She stared at herself in the mirror, expecting to find herself drawn and haggard. She was pink and happy, freckled and lovely. She looked sixteen instead of twenty. “Stay with it,” she told herself in a fierce mutter. “None of this is real, it’s a mindfuck. You’ve been shot with this camera thing. Don’t lose your will.”

The happy sixteen-year-old in the mirror smiled and told her, “After poor George came on my thigh and slunk away, after last Saturday when I almost called him again because I was so lonely? Honey, I’d be LOBOTOMIZED if it would make me come till I see colors again.” Joan nearly fainted. Her nipples were hurting.

The fourth time she had made love with Jacob, her second boyfriend, had been an hour after the third time. They had a room in an anonymous interstate motel and Joan felt very secure. Jake, having just come, was fucking her in a slow and faintly disinterested way while he worked up another load. Joan had gasped and clutched him. “Don’t stop, " she moaned. “I’m coming.” She was tingling and limp, her head flopped. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “I’m coming.” This went on and on, Jacob speeding up slightly but continuing to pound her relentlessly as she begged him not to stop and assured him she was coming. After almost five minutes she was begging mindlessly and breathlessly, “Don’tstopI’mcoming, Don’tstopI’mcoming, Don’tstopI’mcoming.” Jake had said disinterestedly, “So, why don’t you come already?”

She had convulsed in a fiery spasm, glorious red-blue-silver flashes blotting her vision. Jacob hadn’t missed a beat, and his cock was like a firehose filling her with pleasure. She had fainted, or at least become blind and deaf and paralyzed for a minute. Jacob had been out of bed rummaging in the icechest for another beer, completely insensitive to the moment they had shared. Because they hadn’t shared. She had poured out her self to the bastard, and he had only fucked her. They had drunk a lot of beer and slept, making hurried love in the morning to no one’s satisfaction. Two weeks later Jake would drunkenly slap her and call her a bitch when she refused to have his cock in her mouth. She had thrown him out and threatened to have him beaten up by her brother. Where was her brother when she needed him. Johnny would protect her. Good thing he wasn’t -

The man tapped confidently on the bathroom door. “Done yet? I want to use it next.” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and strolled in, glancing approvingly at her examining herself in the mirror and even more approvingly at her black thong panties lying in the floor in front of the toilet. With a grin he snatched them up and waved them. “I see I was right about you. You are a hot girl.” He smelled them appreciatively and stuffed them in his pocket.

I’m a hot girl, Joan thought confusedly. Am I still Joan? She stammered, “I’m a hot girl?”

The man looked startled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you an order. I mean you are yourself, just as when I took your picture.”

Joan fled to the front of the cabin, passing a small bedroom on the way. Slow, hot jazz was playing softly. Her head was whirling. She felt as if she could have chosen from several identities, Joan, hot girl, Martha Washington. This is how a hypnotized person feels, she thought. I’m hypnotized. Like the guy last semester at the comedy club who made people think they were Whitney Houston.

“I’ll never get away,” she said out loud. “He’s got me. I . . .surrender.” The last word was a squeak, spoken as her eyes met the those of her captor, who had come out of the bathroom down the hall. All her resistance faded; she stopped fighting and began fully cooperating with her seduction. I AM a hot girl, really, was her last coherent thought for a while.

“Take off your shirt, honey,” the man was saying as he removed his own. “I want to see your breasts.” He was unbuckling his pants as her hands went to her blouse. “What’s your name, or should I give you a new one?”

The thought of forgetting her name frightened her. “J-joan.” she stammered. “I’m Joan.” She pulled off her bra hurriedly, breasts poking from the open blouse. She was vain about her breasts, which had reduced strong men to tears. They were very round and plump, and were topped by big firm nipples like pink Hershey kisses. The man ran his hands possessively over them, squeezing and kneading them without touching the nipples. He bent to touch his lips to the left one. Joan admired the muscles in his shoulders and arms as he nibbled her nipple. He smelled faintly of some aftershave and of sweat. Her clit throbbed and she moaned, he switched to the other nipple and teased it until she moaned again. He rose and kissed her, his tongue like an electric eel in her mouth. Events grew quite vague after that, until the stranger, still wearing his bluejeans, carried her to his small bedroom and threw her on the bed.

Joan tried to gather her wits. Let’s recap, she thought. A man takes my picture with a camera which brainwashes me into obeying his orders. I’m obeying them really well, too. I’m impressed with myself. Her pussy was throbbing and damp, her breasts heaving. My lips are swollen, she thought wonderingly. I’m breathing through my open mouth because my nasal cartilege is becoming erect. He sits beside me like a spider and promises to make. Me. Come. Like Christmas. Slowly. Joyfully. And with great anticipation. Oh god, I’m anticipating.

She realized that if that chubby freshman had promised her that, she would have gone with him. This hunk could have got her with that line alone.

She looked up, finding his crotch level with her face. “What’s your name?” she panted. “Who are you?”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Don’t you know me?” She shook her head confusedly. “Figure it out.” He waved his hardening penis at her, a dot of moisture at the tip.

Her eyes widened. “Dick?” She moaned and rocked her pelvis. “Your name is Dick.”

Dick sat on the bed and put his arm around Joan’s back, pulling her towards him. She went helplessly, breasts pressed to his muscled chest. He kissed her as if he had nothing else to do for the rest of his life, as if he loved her. Her head whirled. His tongue pulled hers into his mouth and sucked it hard. His hand went between her thighs. She saw an old-fashioned black-and-white hypnotist’s spiral spinning round and around as her head spun. It turned purple, then became a huge golden disk with rich purple reflections. I should be kidnapped and brainwashed more often, she thought before her brains melted completely. Her thoughts for about the next five minutes were on the level of gasp, rub, shiver, flash, yes, rub it, argh. She found herself rigid as a board, vibrating with the intensity of her feelings, lying on the bed as Dick carefully rubbed her clit, kissing her breasts and mouth with equal fascination. “You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he exulted. “I want to keep you, but you should own yourself. But right now, you’re MINE.” He began kissing her right breast, which felt as though milk, or liquid oxygen, was poring from the nipple. “I’m going to come,” she said happily in a childish voice. Instantly the rubbing stopped. Joan felt as though she had been slapped.

Dick bent over her, staring into her eyes. “You can’t come yet. Not until I say so. Tell me that now.”

“I can’t come? Until you say so?” Her lips quivered. She panted. Dick paced out of the room. Joan heard running water, then he returned with a basin and hot water. He smirked at her. “Your arms and legs are limp; you’re falling backwards.” Joan plopped over. Dick spread her legs again, remarking on their freckled beauty, and lovingly washed her pussy with a fluffy washcloth, patting it dry with a thick towel. Joan made despairing little kitten-calls as the towel patted her. Her buttocks tightened. The hypnotist’s spiral spun before her eyes. I am in your power, she thought wonderingly. It was funny. It was exalting. She felt as if she were in charge, that this nice man had obligingly built this camera just so he could do her this great service.

Dick dropped the towels at the end of the bed and knelt upon them. Joan tried to lift her head. He wasn’t going to -

But he was. Dick kissed her pussy the way he had kissed her mouth. She was hopelessly addicted in the first minute. She tried to put her hands down there, whether to fight him off or pull him tighter she wasn’t sure. The sensation was so strong and it went right to her pleasure center and vibrated there. If she could just think for a moment about something besides—oh god. His tongue had flickered rapidly across the tip of her clit for a few seconds; she had seen the universe open up before her in glory. Then he went back to slurping and sucking in a slow regular motion. Joan felt like crying. There were two worlds of total pleasure, flicker and slurp, and she only had one clitoris.

A thousand years passed; Joan lay supine on a soft mattress while honeysuckle vines grew through the window and covered eveything with little sweet flowers being fucked unconscious by bees. She lay on a carpet of honeysuckles, her mind vacant, while the bees poked their blunt heads into tiny sweet flowers. Half of the bees went, slurp, slurp while the other half flickered. At some point Joan tried to move her hand and found it limp with pleasure; a powerful knowledge ripped through her mind. She DESERVED this. EVERY woman did, and maybe every man. She gave herself up to pleasure as the bees buzzed in her mind.

And when another thousand had passed, Dick raised his head and said dreamily, “You can’t come until I tell you. But I can’t tell you to come because my mouth is full of you, you delicious thing. I wonder how this dilemma will be resolved.” He bent his head and slurped loudly. Joan’s buttocks tried to contract but they were limp as Jello. I’m a honeysuckle flower, she thought, being pollinated. Whee! She giggled softly. I’m having an orgasm, she realized guiltily. I haven’t climaxed, but I’ve been in orgasm since—since he kissed me. I’m coming in colors for an hour because he kissed me right. I’m having oral sex, which always seemed so disgusting. I should have let Jake, no fuck him. I’m a honeysuckle flower. She dreamed. The hypnotist’s spiral spun around and around, sliding around her clit as golden flashes filled her thoughts.

Dick raised his head, sliding a finger up her vagina. She moaned, lost in pussyland. “You know, " he remarked. “This is so comfortable, and this is the tastiest and most responsive pussy I’ve ever eaten. I want to just do you all night.” Joan didn’t respond. She had followed the spinning disk into fantasy. Dick bent his head and slurped. Joan made a high-pitched humming noise. Her eyes were slighly crossed. Dick raised his head. “I don’t want to stop,” he muttered. “Tell you what, baby. Joan? You can come whenever you want; just say my name out loud. But your muscles are SO limp, and your will is SO weak, and you like it SO much that it may take you a while to say it.” He bent his head and began flicking his tongue rapidly. Joan tried to move and found her body was like melted wax. Oh, I deserve this, I do, she thought. Suddenly she sat bolt upright, grabbing Dick’s head and wrapping her legs around his head. “OH DICK!” she cried, climaxing like mad. It was like being fucked, but her pussy was so empty. It contracted and fluttered. She showered kisses on Dick’s head as she rocked back and forth. A big bomb seemed to explode soundlessly in Joan’s head as she fell back. She was semi-conscious for minutes, Dick stroking her and telling her she was beautiful, sensuous, a tender lovely girl but also, he said as he patted her buttocks, a great piece of ass. She felt reassured. She was treasured. She was getting horny again. She was going to learn to give a blow job. She was capable of fantastic orgasms. She wanted to taste semen. She suddenly realized that she was no longer lying on the bed, being stroked and whispered to, but kneeling on the floor as Dick sat in the couch. A pillow from the bed was under her knees. She thought wonderingly, I’m really going to do this. I never thought I would. His cock was throbbing. Her mouth watered for it and her head bobbed down irresistably. The feel of it was shocking against her lips, so smooth and velvety. She open her lips and put her tongue to it. Dick moaned. Joan considered how badly she wanted to give this man pleasure. Besides, she was being hypnotized into this. Her mouth opened fully and she pulled it into her mouth eagerly, enjoying the way the skin slid over the erect tissue beneath. Oh god, she thought, I’m hooked on this already, too. Her head bobbed rhythmically. Dick’s prick shuddered slightly, and Joan tasted semen for the first time, although faintly. Dick made an inarticulate noise. I guess I’m slurping, she thought as she bobbed obediently for her master. What if I ran my tongue around and around the head of his cock? She tried it; Dick shook like a leaf, muttering her name reverently. His hand touched her cheek. Waves of pleasure went through her body. She began to bob faster and faster, pulling his cock out of her mouth and licking the end a few times before returning to her bobbing strategy. Dick bent over her head as it jiggled.

“Now Joan, " he panted hoarsely. “I’ve got to come in your mouth, and you’ll like it. No man in the world can resist a girl who swallows his come.”

Joan stopped for an instant and looked him in the eye. “Then you can’t resist me, Richard.” He moaned as she took him in her mouth again, pumping with her hand as she sucked with her mouth. Dick groaned as he pumped his sperm into her hot mouth. She moaned with delight.

Joan raised her head and looked Dick in the eye. Semen ran from her lips. a drop of it sliding slowly down her neck drew his gaze. “Don’t let me go,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I feel strange. I don’t want to go back to being the flirt in the cafeteria, and I don’t want to be alone. If it’s the camera, I don’t want to be deprogrammed. Keep me.” She was frowning.

“I know what you need, slave, " said Dick tenderly. “Get up and get me that box on the night table.” Joan rose obediently and fetched it. “Open it and tell me what’s in it.”

Joan opened the box. “Why, it’s my engagement ring!” She put it on her finger, then stared at him in utter horror.

“Richard! You FUCKER! " She jumped to her feet. “This is your apartment, not a cabin in the woods. You hypnotized me again! You kidnapped me and made me think the camera was mind control box, and you drove me off in my OWN CAR!” Richard was convulsing silently with laughter. “Where did all that stuff I was thinking come from? Being lonely and horny and having stupids boyfriends named George and Jake, and uh well, I guess there was a Jake, but long ago. Being frigid and never having done oral sex?”

Richard sighed reminiscently. “Right out of your own mind, honey. I suggested that you be a lonely, horny girl, who wouldn’t really mind some domination in the interests of better sex. I threw in a lot of stuff myself, though. Did you see the bees?”

Joan giggled. “The room filled with honeysuckle vines. The bees were eating their little flower-pussies.”

“Like I ate yours, little flower-pussy. Did you like that cabin as much in your fantasy as you did in the magazine?”

“Oh! I remember now! It WAS in a magazine. And I always call this place the Unabomber’s cabin when you let it get messy. That’s why I didn’t have to ask where the bathroom was. Did you make my reflection talk to me?” Richard watched in fascination as the forgotten semen-drop rolled from her neck down her chest. He shook his head. “Let me ask you something. Did you suggest that I would find you sexy? Because—hey, wait! Muscles! You turkey! You had muscles like Schwarzenegger a few minutes ago.” Richard snickered. His eyes were drawn helplessly to the semen-drop, now hanging from a perfect nipple. Joan saw his gaze and solemnly raised her boob to her mouth: slurp!

“But I guess I’m still foggy, Richard. Because I’ve forgotten why we did this. You put me under and make me come like a princess night after night. I already think of you as a sex god. Why the masquerade and mindfuck? Although, come to think of it, it was pretty sexy.”

“Think back to last night,” Richard advised her. “You bet me twenty bucks and the best blowjob of my entire life that I couldn’t make you come like that. You wanted me to mindfuck you. You said that you gave me your willpower only to a certain extent, that you always knew down deep who you were, that you held back a bit of control from me. My reply was that you trusted me with your life, and I could prove it. I can make you do ANYTHING, because I would never risk you. I could see you every second; if I’d called out ‘yo, mama, what’s shakin’ you’d have been yourself in an instant.”

“I remember this now. Yo, mama, kind of woke me up a little more just now. I told you I could stop you cold. I bet you twenty bucks and good head, but specifically refused to give you my permission to be hypnotized. You said that word I can’t ever remember and I went into a trance . . . and popped out. And that word is Armadildobaby, you got mad when I woke up and said that one wouldn’t work anymore and I guess you’re right.” She was grinning, boobs jiggling. “You tried your best induction, but I kept showing my tits and spoiling your timing. You made monotonous conversation leading to an induction, and I told you to forget it. So you put the electric spiral on the tabel and told me I was a sucker, that I couldn’t keep my eyes off that spiral, and if I left the room I forfeited. So I turned my back on it and read a magazine.” She frowned prettily. “And . . .”

“And when I came back in you were sitting on the couch in front of it, so deep I could hardly reach you. Very deep. Do you remember now?” Richard was fascinated.

“I . . thought I heard a noise and I turned around, thinking you had come back from the other room, and the spiral . . when I turned back to the magazine it was in front of me again, and I got up to turn the chair around, and . . .” Joan’s eyes were glazing rapidly. She shook her head. I guess I wanted to lose.”

“You trust me,” said Richard quietly.

“Fuckin-A I do, baby,” Joan replied. “You made one mistake, and even in a trance I wondered about it. Nobody kisses a woman he’s just met with that kind of devotion. The person i had become fell in love with the person she believed you are. If that camera worked for real I’d snap you right up and order you never to leave me. " Richard opened his mouth and closed it again. “But Richard? You’re gonna lose the next time, and then it’s my turn.”

Richard smiled. “It’s your turn; I lose. What’s my forfeit?”

“No way, I have to beat you fair and square. You just wait . . .Dick.”

Joan smiled secretly. Her nurse friend had given her some pills carefully extracted from the psychiatric prison where she had worked for years. One kind was a powerful tranquilizer which nearly paralyzed the frontal lobes but depressed respiration only slightly. The other was a powerful stimulant which activated areas of the hindbrain which related to hierarchical behavior, sex urges, and submission or dominance. Harriet said the interesting results had livened many a dull night for the nurses. The master hypnotist Richard would be putty in her hands. It was either that, or pay him the twenty dollars.