The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Sleep!”

Jerold grinned wickedly as Wendy’s head slumped forward, eyes closed. “YES! OH YES!” he exclaimed gleefully. “I can’t believe it! It worked!”

Wendy Baker sat there in the chair, motionless, deep within a hypnotic trance. Her sweet supple lips, so usually twisted into a sneer, were slack, and her expression, normally filled with arrogance, or haughtiness, was completely calm and peaceful. Her sharp tongue was finally still. Jerold savored the peaceful silence. He’d heard her slanderous barbs and wicked retorts for months; he’d listened to her bitch and complain about being assigned to him as a partner in the biology lab for nearly a month. Now, at last, he was in a position to do something about it.

“Wendy,” he whispered softly, smugly, sitting down in the chair across from her. “Tell me, can you hear me?”

Wendy paused a moment, then replied. “Yes. I... can hear you...”

“Oh yeah! Perfect!” Jerold snickered softly. “Okay, Wendy. When I count to three, I want you to open your eyes. You will still be deep in a trance, but you will be able to talk and act normally, okay? Ready? One. Two. Three.” Wendy’s eyes fluttered, then opened. Jerold grinned, rubbing his palms together. Everything was going perfectly.

“Alright, Wendy,” he said, leaning close, “this is how it’s going to be. You’ve been a real bitch to me, and to everyone else. You’ve complained about being my lab partner, when of the two of us, I should have done all the complaining. But worst of all, the one time I admitted that I thought you were beautiful and asked if you wanted to go out to dinner sometime... you laughed at me! Laughed in my face! And made fun of me! But now, all of that is going to change.”

Wendy, eyes wide and glassy, shook her head. “No,” she said simply.

Jerold blinked. “Huh? Wha... what did you just say?”

Wendy blinked again, staring straight ahead. “I said, no.”

Jerald sat there, stunned. What the hell was this? “Wendy?” he said cautiously. “Are you still hypnotized? Are you still deep in a trance?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

“So, you’re still under my power?”

“No.”

Jerald growled in frustration. “Alright, Wendy. Explain yourself. Are you hypnotized or not? Are you trying to fake this or what? Is all this some kind of stupid joke, to show me up yet again?”

Wendy blinked slowly, still staring straight ahead. “Yes. I am still deeply hypnotized,” she said matter-of-factly. “I am not trying to fake anything. This is not a joke, although I do find all this funny on one level.”

Jerald was totally at a loss. Wendy wasn’t nearly clever enough to pull some kind of stunt. Nor was she the patient, planning type. He knew he’d followed the directions perfectly, and that Wendy was still in a trance. So... why wasn’t she acting like his mindless zombie slave? Those damn online stories never prepared him for this!

“Alright, Wendy,” Jerald said wearily, “let’s take this step by step. You are in a trance, right?”

“Yes.”

“A very DEEP trance, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you are not faking this in any way, right?”

“No.”

“Okay then. Let’s test this. Wendy, I want you to stand up from your chair, and take off your blouse.” This would call her bluff, Jerold thought smugly. If she was hypnotized, and unable to resist, she would have to go through with it. If she blew up and yelled at him, then she would show that she was faking.

Apparently, Wendy wasn’t faking. Without hesitation, she stood up, pulled the stylish red blouse over her head, and tossed it to the floor. “Damn!” Jerold exclaimed, spying her large lovely breasts, held back by only a small black satin bra. “Oh, yes, now THIS is what I was talking about!” he grinned, reaching up to cop a feel.

Wendy blinked again, the same slow, steady blink she’d given since being commanded to open her eyes. Without turning to face him, she reared back and punched Jerold straight in the mouth, sending him to the ground with a crash.

“OW!” he yelled, holding his face. “You stupid bitch! You HIT me! What the hell did you do that for?!?”

Blink. Blink. “Because you were touching me,” Wendy explained simply. “I did not wish to be touched.”

Jerold groaned softly, touching a small hole in his mouth where one of his teeth once sat. This whole experience wasn’t going the way he’d planned at all. For months he’d been studying about how to hypnotize a person, on the proper use of induction, on deepening the trance state, on using visual and auditory stimulus, on post-hypnotic suggestion. He’d read an online story archive filled with erotic stories of hypnotists controlling their subjects, bending their will, making them over into their perfect love-slaves. Some of the more diabolical ones even managed to change their subject’s sexual orientation, making straight women gay, and turning gay women straight, all with nothing more than a swinging pocket watch, or a flashing strobe light, and a well prepared script.

He’d come up with the idea of hypnotizing Wendy shortly after the ‘incident’. He’d dreamed daily about having revenge on the spoiled little bitch that had turned him down, and laughed to her friends about him. Now, after months of careful planning and research, he had her right where he wanted her. Only, it wasn’t working out.

Angrily, he picked up the book on practical hypnosis he’d brought along with him, and skimmed down the pages. He read all the way through to where he’d stopped before, just after the instructions on how to bring a subject back to wakefulness once more. The book was open about halfway, meaning there was as much information left to be read as he’d already covered, even after the last bit concerning the actual hypnosis. He flipped the page and read.

“... is important to remember,” the book stated, “that there are certain rules to hypnosis. The first rule being: a hypnotized person is NOT automatically rendered a mindless zombie. That is the most common misconception. A person under the grip of hypnosis is STILL himself. A hypnotist cannot make a subject act outside his or her own character, even in a trance state. In other words, you cannot make a person do anything in a trance that they wouldn’t normally do while awake.”

“Shit!” Jerold said, slamming the book shut. “NOW he tells me! Dammit, I have got to learn to start reading books all the way through, from cover to cover!” Sighing, he considered his options. Okay. So you’ll do what I say, but only up to a point. Even hypnotized, you’re still the same bitchy, bossy little slut that you always were. Well, if there’s one thing I picked up from all those erotic online stories, its that a clever guy can find ways around the so-called rules. All I have to do is be clever about it.

He turned back to Wendy. “Okay Wendy. Round two. You’re sitting there nearly topless, with just a bra covering your hooters. Tell me, why did you take off your blouse earlier.”

Blink. Long, slow blink. “Because you told me to,” came the reply.

Like talking to a damn three year old kid, Jerold though with exasperation. “Okay, granted. Tell me WHY you did what I asked you to when I said, ‘remove your blouse’.”

Blink. “You told me to take it off, so I did it.” Blink. “I’m not happy about your seeing me like this, but its not so bad.” Blink. “I’m still covered up, and it’s about the same as wearing a bikini top at the beach.” Blink. Blink.

Jerold nodded, thinking. The thought of being at the beach gave him an idea. “Wendy, listen carefully. I want you to close your eyes again for a moment. Good. Now, I want you to imagine that you’re at the beach, that you’re sitting in a chair along the shoreline. The waves are crashing gently against the sand, going in, and out, iiinnnn... and oouutttt...” He kept repeating this mantra until Wendy began to sigh softly, swaying gently with the rhythm. He moved over to the lights and slowly turned the intensity back up to normal.

“Good. Very good,” he continued. “Okay, open your eyes now. It’s a bright sunny day. The sun is bright and shining, and its really really hot. You’re already wearing your bikini top. Now you just need to slip off those pants and get into your bikini bottoms.”

Sighing softly, Wendy kicked off her pumps, and shimmied out of her jeans. Jerold’s mouth began to water as he glanced down at his scantily clad subject, reclining back in her chair. He’d never been able to get a clear glance at anything below her neck, and now she was sitting there before him, almost naked. He gazed down at her, lovingly, drinking in the sight of her, from her long, slender, maroon-tipped toes, up to her strong, shapely calves, her tone, well tanned thighs. He stopped when he reached her crotch, wondering when she would continue her little strip show, and slide them off as well, but Wendy’s hands had returned to the arms of the chairs, as before.

“Wendy,” he prompted, “you need to slide out of your panties and put on your bikini bottoms.” He grinned, wondering idly if Wendy was a true blonde, or whether her hairstyle had come from a bottle. Unfortunately, it seemed that he would never find out.

“No,” she replied. “When I go to the beach, I wear my bikini top and bottoms under my normal clothes.”

“Damn!” Jerold said, thinking quickly. “Alright then. But Wendy, the sun is REALLY glaring down on you right now. I think I’d better rub some suntan oil over you, so you don’t get sunburned.” He slid a hand down along her slender thigh, feeling the smooth hairless skin. He wondered idly if she shaved, or used a depilatory cream.

SMACK! Jerold tumbled to the ground again, this time holding his sore left eye. “Dammit!” he yelled loudly, glaring up at the girl. “Why the FUCK do you keep hitting me?!?”

“Because I do not wish to be touched,” she said, repeating her earlier answer.

Jerold climbed back to his feet. He was getting really tired of being hit. With an effort, he unclenched his fists. “But Wendy,” he said through clenched teeth, “how can I put suntan oil on you if you won’t let me touch you?”

“I will put it on myself,” she said simply, holding a small hand up, and pouring oil from an imagined bottle along her skin. She then began sighing softly as she rubbed the fantasy oil all over herself. Jerold found his anger fading a bit at the sight. Even if he was reduced to being a spectator, it was still a pretty good show. Jerold brightened again, as he noticed her barely clothed body.

“Wendy, aren’t you going to remove your bra and pan... er, I mean, your bikini top and bottoms?” he asked eagerly. He’d noticed by looking close that she had no visible tan lines, and that she obviously tanned in the nude. Very clever, he thought to himself. Alas, it was not quite clever enough.

“No,” she stated again, placing the imaginary bottle of oil aside. “I never strip naked in public! Certainly not at the beach. I only tan all over when I’m in the tanning parlor, under the tan lights.”

Jerold pulled his hair in frustration. This was ridiculous! Wasn’t there ANY way he could get her naked, or at least touch her, without her fighting him every step of the way?

“Wendy,” he asked after a few moments, “have you ever been naked with a guy before?”

“No.”

That surprised him. “But... weren’t you dating Shawn Evans last year? He said that you and he made out all the time.”

“No. Shawn and I dated. We necked. We kissed. We groped a little. But I never let him have sex with me. I wasn’t ready yet. And after that, he dumped me. Then he told all his friends that we ‘did it’. Shawn is a son of a bitch. I hate him.” She said all this calmly, without emotion, which drove the point home even more.

“Are you saying that you’re still a virgin, Wendy?”

“Yes.”

“Oh fucking great,” Jerold lamented. This was even worse than he imagined. Now he had no frame of reference, no material he could use to pry her out of the damn ice cocoon she’d wrapped herself up in. He couldn’t work like this!

“You know what? Just forget it! Forget all of this shit! I’m tired of dealing with you,” he said simply, defeated. “I want you to put all of your clothes back on again, your blouse, your jeans, your shoes. Then I want you to sit back down in that chair and close your eyes again.” He waited patiently as the entranced girl redressed. Once her eyes closed, he said, “Good. Now on the count of three, you will awaken, fully refreshed. One. Two. Three.” He snapped his fingers, and walked out, in disgust.

Wendy gasped slightly, jerking awake. She glanced around the room, but found it empty. “Damn,” she said softly, glancing at her watch. “I must have dozed off. I thought... Jerold and I were supposed to study psychology, but I guess he already left.” She shrugged, and picking up her books, headed out.

One week later, Jerold ran into his friend, Edward, returning back from the library. Eddie was all smiles. He slapped a hand across Jerold’s back, catching the tall, spindly nerd by surprise. “Yo, man, how can I ever thank you?” he said, smiling wide enough to split his face.

Jerold frowned. “Ouch. Watch its, you big oaf, I bruise easily.” He rubbed his tender back. “What is all this about? What are you thanking me for?”

“For Wendy, what else?” Eddie said, grinning again. “Man, I don’t know why you decided to give up a tender piece of ass like her, but man am I ever glad you did!”

Jerold looked at the jock as if he’d just quoted Shakespeare. “Did you saw... Wendy? Wendy Baker? A tender piece of ASS? HER?!?”

“Yeah man,” Eddie said slyly. “You told us guys how you hypnotized her, but couldn’t get her to do nothin’ so I cornered her one night and gave it a try myself. And, dude, that phrase you used still worked! She went out like a light! I talked to her a bit for a while, and the next thing I know, the girl’s a damn wildcat! She can’t get enough of me!” He shook his head in disbelief. “If I wasn’t already committed to my major in foreign studies, I might study psychology. This shit is tight!”

“But... but... that can’t be!” Jerold sputtered. “How? HOW? How in hell did you get her to open up to you? I couldn’t even get her to let me touch her without getting hit! My black eye STILL hasn’t faded from the last shot she gave me! How did you do it, Eddie?”

The football running back gave his small friend another slap across the back. “Well, Jerold, you’re a genius in a lot of things, true enough, but in other things, you’re a total dufus! Getting Wendy to open up wasn’t really that hard. You just asked her all the wrong questions. Me, I asked her why she didn’t want to be touched, why she felt she wasn’t ready for sex, and I listened. That girl has a lot of control issues. She didn’t want to be pawed on, or groped... but man, give her the chance to do the pawing and groping, let HER initiate it, and WHAM! Instant slut!”

Jerold stood there in shock. He’d been so caught up in controlling her, trying to make Wendy jump through hoops, that he never considered simply letting her experiment, letting her go at her own pace. In five minutes, a football jock had figured out something that had stumped him with his 3.97 GPA.

“Well, see ya, bud!” Eddie said, smiling his ever-present smile. “I gotta go pick Wendy up in a few. It’s the weekend, and we’re swinging by this little club we found online. Something about leather, and lace, or some shit. Anyway, it sounds like a lot of fun. Talk to ya later, Jerold!”

Jerold watched his friend leave, standing there for several long moments. “Some days,” he said finally, “it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.”