The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There was a girl running through the forest. Poor thing. She had shoes, that wasn’t the problem, although they were a pair of white four inch heels, which certainly made the running difficult. She had clothes, a loose grey sweat shirt cut at midriff and cutoff blue jean shorts, tailored so tight at the crotch that even a camel would’ve cried for a size larger. I mean, they were comfortable for running. But she wasn’t comfortable. For one thing, she was being chased, actually hunted, and that scared her like a bunny sensing a hunter. The other thing was her new breasts. They were more than twice the size they’d been just a month ago. They were a bulking weighty intrusion and their bouyancy, the slow heavy bounce with each leap she made, gave her a lopsided feeling, as if she might fall over whenever both tits jiggled like heavy jello toward one side or the other.

If she cared to try, April wouldn’t remember where or how she got her new improved and enlarged udders. Her mind was fully concerned about her escape. What she didn’t know was it wasn’t an escape at all, her captors had allowed her to bolt out the back door of their hunting cabin after hypnotically planting the notion in her head that she ought to bolt. Simply put, they were hunting her for sport. The winner would take all; all that he could screw and abuse for a night in front of the cabin’s fireplace. The five hunters who shared the cabin had rented April from her pimp who they’d met at the Pitt Stop, a strip club outside Pittsburgh where she’d been a dancer, mostly. That is, when she wasn’t dancing Frost-T had her bringing in the cah-ching through private and sometimes not so private sessions. April had been one of Frost-T’s best cash cows ever since he’d bought her off of JB Neuman, the hypnotist April had the misfortune of bumping into in the Pitt campus library six months ago.

Actually, it was JB who purposely bumped into her, and he had just enough acting ability to make her think she was at fault. As her shoulder aligned with his, the bump was unavoidable, and JB made a huge deal of dropping an armful of papers.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Ah! Excuse me... I’m so sorry,” April had been appropriately confused by the sudden collide, on top of which she’d been raised so gentiley (by an old-school Protestant family) that the manners of apology came to her automatically with every social surprize. One could say that at 19 she had yet to develop street smarts, not even suspicions about the possible ulterior motives of strangers. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I guess.” JB housted up his bulky frame, and his belt over his ample belly, and gave a sigh. “No harm done. How about you?”

April was kneeling picking up his strewn papers.

“Me? Oh. I’m ok. Thank you.” She handed him his scribbled notes. If she’d had time to look at them closely she would have seen that JB had developed profiles of all the newbie babes at Pitt who might be vulnerable to his mind control methods. Even though he took a couple classes to justify being on campus, at 31 JB Neuman was a little old to be a student.

“You sure?” JB arched one eyebrow, projecting an intense gaze into her green large doelike eyes. “Would you mind if I gave you a little check-up before you go, just to make sure?”

“Make sure of what?”

“That you haven’t had a mini-seizure, or that your equilibrium has been thrown off.”

It sounded improbable to April, yet this man had the manner of an intellectual, perhaps even a doctor. He verified that he was a pre-med student, and that his specialty was going to be neurology.

“How long will it take?” She asked.

“Three minutes, maybe less. Please, sit down.” She did. “First, how do your eyes feel?” He continued gazing deep into them. His concern amused her a bit, he seemed so serious. But his attention also made her feel comfortable and special. She was a bit introverted here at college, and even though she was very pretty in a girlish more than a womanly way, she’d had few college guys making advances toward her—they all seemed more interested in the ‘glamour pusses’, the girls who dolled thamselves up more for attention. April had never been that way. She used make-up sparingly and prided herself on a more natural look. Sadly, she found herself making few friends that way.

“My eyes are fine, I guess.”

“Let’s make sure. Look upward as far as you can while holding your head faced forward.”

April tried it. It wasn’t hard. Just a little awkward, maybe.

“Now,” JB continued, happy that his prey was innocently following sugestions already. “Relax your eyes in that position for the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

April was wondering what this eye test had to do with her health, but felt, well, she’s come this far...

“Slowly lower your eyes now, until you are facing me.”

She did, and her relaxed eyelids followed her pupils downward. Seeing this made JB quite happy. The test proved she was a good subject for hypnosis.

“Everything seems to be ok,” he said smiling. “I just wanted to test you on one more thing.” JB pulled a purple stone out of his pocket. April found herself oddly fascinated by the object immediately. It was very smooth, shiny and pretty, yet at the same time the dark purple color gave the stone an exotic look.

“What is your name?”

“April. April Simmons.”

“April, I want you to imagine this stone contains the essence of your heart, mind and soul.”

“Why would you want me to do that?”

“Because your happiness and pleasure will be within whoever holds this stone. And you deserve happiness and pleasure, April. Because you’re a good girl.”

A part of her knew what he was doing and wanted to resist. But her curiousity and his calm relaxing manner made her want to play along.

Whatever he said or did next is now a blur to her. April remembers following JB out of the library and into a nearby apartment building. There were many students, mostly guys, walking through the hallway as JB escorted her to a small bedroom with a large recliner chair, in which she was ordered to sit. Something deep within April was excited by following the fat young man’s orders, knowing she was getting herself into a potentually dangerous situation.

When she now has a moment free of her intensely horny feelings, she recalls being spellbound by the eyes of the fat, slovenly man who held the purple stone which contained her soul. She recalls his voice droning on with instructions that went straight to the center of her brain. His voice in her brain began to sound like her own voice; whatever he said, she would repeat in the voice deep within.

As April ran through the thick dark and damp forest, her young augmented breasts jostled, and so did her memory. She remembered a normal childhood in a happy family, an average schoolgirl in an average town who managed to get above average grades so that she could get a scholarship to a great college. Had it all been a dream, or was this the dream?

One of the things she remembered was that she began to love JB. It was a strange,illogical love that was obsessive nearly to the point of insanity. Gradually her every thought had become a warm sensual glow revolving around the desire to please him. The willowy, thin girl wondered how she could be falling in love with such an obese, slovenly boy, but such thoughts were fleeting.

She wrote to her mom and dad that she’s found a boyfriend at school, but she didn’t go into much detail. They were happy for her. She’d been quite an introvert throughout high school. Oh, she had a group of a few close friends, and she was very cute in a mousy way, with her light brown hair with a few natural highlights setting off her round soft green eyes and pert nose. There were quite a few guys who vied for her attention, but her late-blooming and shy personality disuaded them from following through when she seemed to lack interest in them.

JB spent the first three hypnosis sessions with April conditioning her mind toward warm erotic feelings of affection before he began the physical, sexual phase. It had been his experience that bitches were more obedient for the long term if they were conditioned to think intensely of sex while at the same time being denied it, at least in the beginning. Later, they would be prime mental slaves who would get hornier through humiliation.

That’s how JB really liked his girls. April would be his fourth, the other three he’d used until he’d gotten bored with them, then he’d sold them off to pimps. He never even asked much, the top price he’d gotten for his college girls turned into brain-addled submissive sluts was five hundred bucks, and he was well aware that any one of those cute babes would make their pimp at least that much in one night. But JB never wanted to take the chance of being busted pimping the girls, his thrill was looking down at the pleading eyes of a gorgeous hot college slut as her lips were wrapped lovingly around his rigid, though somewhat small, member. Before he’d mastered mind control, the girls throughout high school had laughed at him, espescially when the jocks he was forced to take showers with in phys-ed spread it around his classes what a little dick he had. Walking down the hallways JB’s face would turn red every time he heard those smart-ass bitches giggle and call him bugfucker and eraserdick. That’s when he determined one day he would get his revenge.

And tonight, after patiently molding April’s thoughts and feelings, he would get his revenge on the female gender once again.

She knew he was coming over and she was all excited. She’d spent hours getting everything ready. A dinner that included all three of his favorite foods; pizza, burritos and hamburgers, and of course plenty of ice cream, pie and beer. Fortunately, the girl April shared the Shadyside apartment was away for a week, espescially since April had the urge all day to do the cooking practically in the nude; she wore only a tiny thin cotton apron, the top part of which started at her nipples (which were hard as stone all day), then fell across her front in a round lacy piece that barely protected her crotch area.

Several days hence, right after one of her relaxing sessions with JB, returning home she’s walked directly to the bathroom and shaved every hair from her genital area, til she was as smooth as a baby’s behind. She even applied baby powder, patting it in and giggling mindlessly as she lay on her bed feeling wonderfully stupid and contented, hoping JB would soon see and like her puffy bald pussy.

“Pussy.” She said softly out loud. It had always seemed offensive to call it that before, but now she liked the term. She wanted to give her pussy to JB. She wanted him to please himself with it any way he wanted.

JB was two hours late when he banged on her door. He purposely hadn’t taken a shower for two days. He wanted April to smell his funk, so that she’d be simultaneously repelled and turned on by it. He’d also been drinking, because he knew it put him in a nasty mood.

April had changed into a transparent black minidress. She opened the door and oddly felt herself awestruck by the presence of this young man who would go unnoticed by most other women. But to April he was a god who had just blessed her by his appearance in her hallway.

“Hello, Sir. Thank you for coming. I thought maybe you’d forgotten...”

“First of all, shut the fuck up. From this moment on you will only speak when spoken to. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now, life that skirt and spread your legs.”

She couldn’t help blushing as she did, even though she was so excited that he was seeing her pussy for the first time. JB extended one hand and felt up her smooth puffed out lips. Her eyeballs dialated and her heart palpultated as he tickled her naturally-lubed clitoris with a stubby finger.

Suddenly, seemingly for no reason, he smacked her hard across the face, sending her reeling to the floor. April lay stunned, feeling her left cheek swell and eye water up.

JB just stood there looking amused. He belched. “Where’s the head? I drank four beers and I gotta piss.”

“Down the hallway to the left.” She spoke meekly and pointed in the direction. As she heard the flow into the toilet, she picked herself up sniffling. Had she offended him? Would he still make love to her? She worried to the depths of her sould that she had done something wrong.

He walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t flush because I want you to save it. You got that?”

“Yes, Sir.” Save it for what, she wondered? Never mind, at least he was staying. She set the table and put a huge slice of pizza and a beer poured into a frosted mug in front of him. Then she sat next to him, hands under her chin, and gazed adoringly at his face as he stuffed it with the sloppy cheese/tomato sause concoction, a good third of it spewing down the sides of his mouth and onto his rotund chin.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch? Go put some music on. Make it sexy music, Prince or something phat,” he bellowed. She was already up and scanning her CD collection. Thankfully, she had a copy of the Purple One’s greatest hits. The thunderous opening riff of ‘Peach’ filled the apartment.

“Good,” JB blurted between bites. “Now, get up on this table and give me a show. Strip outa that cheap tramp dress you got on.”

For a split second April felt a pang of offense to his words, yet it didn’t stop her from climbing onto the table and slowly moving her hips. She’d never been much of a dancer because of her shyness, but she knew she had to please her man. As she stripped, April felt a deep anxiety within herself. JB, the man she desperately wanted, had yet to touch her, except for brutally smacking her in the face. Thinking of that smack slowly made her feel sensual, and her dance became more and more hot and lewd. Hurting her was his way of showing he liked her, she realized, and that was better than nothing.

“Faster, you dumb cunt!” JB had just chugged another beer. She quickly discarded the dress. She danced naked, trying to show the passion she felt for him through her movements. He stood, grabbed her arm and pulled her off the table, making her gasp and sounding a girlish squeek.

He drew her chest to him and sucked in a nipple, squeezing the tit further into his mouth with out hand and pawing a pert round asscheek with the other. And so it began.

She’d been a good girl. What was she doing? Through that night he question would pop into her head and just as quickly pop away. He had her kneeling in front of him sucking his cock, then licking and sucking his ballsack. He came in her mouth and told her to hold the cum in her cheek until he came back from pissing out more of the beer in her toilet. The bowl was beginning to fill so much she could smell the acrid odor from the kitchen. He returned and said, “Swallow.” She did.

He bent her over his fat legs and spanked her hard, twenty times. Then he said his hand was starting to hurt and ordered her to go to the kitchen and find something nice and hard to use as a paddle. April returned with a metal spatula. JB whipped her asscheeks furiously. When she finally began crying, he began laughing.

She’d been a good girl, so what was she doing? Next, he dragged her by the hair to the bedroom and threw her on it, her mascara-smeared eyes looked back at him pleading, pleading to please him even more. His bulky rotund weight eclipsed her frail girl’s body like a watermelon on a twig. Except for her small feet and thin-fingered hands, one would think JB were alone in the room, humping a mattress. But he wasn’t humping a mattress, he was fucking April, and ashamed as she was to be used like a dishrag, she loved it, and came and came and came on the command of a trigger word that even she was not consciously aware of.

He did a few more things to her that night. Gagged her with her panties, whipped her with his belt, made her stick a carrot up her asshole, sucked hickies all over her neck and breasts for her classmates to see the next day. And he repeated a few things too; another blowjob, another crushed fuck.

But the peas la resitance was holding her head under the beer piss in the toilet bowl and, just when she was about to pass out, flushing it. April, her hair and face soaked and stinking, gasping, wailing, crying and then finally, as he put on his jacket and headed for the door, pleading with him not to go.

“Look at you,” JB said contemptuously as he reached for the doorknob. “You are one sick nympho slut, you know that?”

“Yes, Sir.” She stammered between sobs. She’d been a good girl. What had she become?

“You will think of me continuously until you hear from me again. You will masturbate as often as possible thinking of me, but will not be able to cum until you hear from me again. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He chuckled. “See you around, slut.”

One of the hunter’s sons, a freckled redheaded lad named Billy, had April in the sites of his longrange tazer, but couldn’t pull the trigger, being that he was so mezmerized by the slow motion roll of the melonous mounds on her chest. And anyway, he wanted the chase to go on longer, it was so much fun. Whether he was the one to bag the bitch or not, Billy knew the guys would let him fuck her, os at least get a blowjob from the cute little slut. The winner might have her all night, but the winner always shared, too. That’s the way these outings always went.

April tried to leap over a fallen treetrunk, but her high heeled shoeboots didn’t quite give her enough traction, and she found herself falling face and chest first into a puddle of mud on the trunks far side. She groaned in frustration, and as she did another memory came back to her.

Next it was his friends. After a few weeks JB began runing out of ideas for abusing April, besides which mid-terms were coming up. April of course was going to flunk out since it was impossible for her to think of anything but sex and love of the most obsessive kinds. She was an emotional wreck, and although JB’s programming forbade her from doing anything that interfered with the ruitines of his life (anybody else with her level of obsession would have been a full-fledged stalker), her wounded puppy looks and fawning lovesick and begging manner was starting to irritate him.

So he had a few friends over one night. Five friends to be exact. It wasn’t really a party, that is; it wasn’t a party until he brought April in. JB made certain she was deeply conditioned for this new direction in her submissive training. He went over to her apartment an hour early and put her in the next level of trance. Once under, he pulled the dark purple stone from his pocket.

“What is this, my little skank?”

“It is the stone that contains the essence of my heart, mind and soul.” Her voice was meek, little more than a whisper.

“You love and obey whoever possesses the stone. Repeat.”

“I love and obey whoever possesses the stone.”

“Tonight, there will be five more stones held by boys who you will obey as you obey me. Each of them will have purple stones that also contain your essence. You will love each of them as you love me.” With those words April felt herself become warm and loving toward five guys who she hadn’t even met yet, and she glowed in anticipation of giving pleasure to them, even though they were strangers. “Do you understand, slut?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now go and get dressed. Wear something slinky and put on the brightest, most whorish makeup you’ve got. Your ‘lovers’ like girls who look sexy and stupid. And you are sexy. Repeat.”

“I am sexy.” April felt herself get wet and felt all slinky as she spoke.

“And you are stupid.”

“And I am stupid.” With these words she felt a part of her mind go numb. There was no reason to think to much beyond the commands she was given. April felt happy being dumb.

Even JB was surprized at how easily April accepted the hypnotic commands.

A few hours later she was delivered to a house in the suburbs. She wore a pink tube top and a white miniskirt, sans panties. Her face looked like something a silly little girl of ten would paste on to look like a doll; pink glittery lipstick, heavy mascara, long lashes, eggshell blue eyeshadow and plenty of tangerine colored blush. To the five horny guys she looked like Christmas, Easter and Halloween all rolled into one.

The guys started a game of poker, and one by one excused themselves to go to a back bedroom where they would screw April, their adoring and adorable little fuck doll. Most of them were pretty nice and straight about the sex, a blowjob and a missionary hump was all they needed. But one guy, Oscar, had a mean, sadistic streak. She yelled as he pulled her around the room by her hair, just warming up.

Oscar took of his pants and sat on the bed in his boxers. He’d worn them all week and they were stained from sweat and piss. He was a skinny guy with a long think cock that made a huge indentation in his shorts, the big round knob falling below the bottom edge of the shorts.

“On your knees.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. April fell, genuflecting before him. “Now suck it.” She went to pull it out of the boxers. “No, dumbass!” He slapped her once, hard. “Suck it through my skivies. Take the shorts in your mouth and get ot all wet.”

Through the fog of her induced stupidity, April managed to understand the order. She leaned forward and put her lips to the cloth of the shorts. Their was a pungent odor and taste that repelled her for a moment, almost making her want to vomit. A moment later however, the warmth for Oscar took over and she suck his cock through the material, drolling sloppily as the texture of cloth combined with the thick weight of the hardening rod beneath it, began turning her on. She felt humilated and her face was flushed. How could she be such a common piece of ass? Oh, but God she loved him—in her mind she believed he had her heart, mind and soul in his pocket.

As the sun came up and JB returned to collect her, April had a few physical suveneirs. From four of the poker boys she had a cunt and a belly full of jizz, and from Oscar she had a fat lip, black and blue marks on her nipples from alligator clamps, and matching cigarette burns on each side of her pussy lips. And yet the girl was happy in a punchdrunk kind of way. Her brain may have been addled but her vagina was anything but. If she were counting, she’d had seven orgasms that night. Even as they drove away, April leaned back against the passenger side seat and thought fondly, lovingly and hornily of the boys who had just used her like a shitwipe, the new pains throughout her body a warm and pleasant reminder of a job well done, her lovers being well served. As her hypnotist drove he glanced over at the weirdly contented girl and chuckled. He’d fucked up her mind but good.

JB didn’t sell April to a pimp right off. He took her down to a strip club know as the Pitt Stop and had her meet Abel Grantif, the head honcho. Right away April’s thin frame and small breasts made Abel suspicious of her age.

“She’s been 19 since for three months now,” JB produced her driver’s license and birth certificate, having anticipated the crude club owner’s qurestion. “And she loves to dance. Loves swinging that cute butt of hers in men’s faces,” he laughed.

“That right, honey?” Abel blew smoke in April’s direction.

“Yes, Sir.” She smiled as sweetly as she could, bit her lower lip like a shy child and stood coyly knockkneed and pigeontoed like JB had programmed her to do for the occassion. JB had known the club owner liked girls who acted young and dumb. He’d even had her go easy on the makeup, as well as wear a pleated short Catholic schoolgirl skirt.

“So, let’s see it,” Abel stretched to turn up the CD player, which was kicking out some phat beats by the Chemical Brothers.

Immediately April went into her sultry bump and grind, licking her lips and gyrating her ass. Somewhere deep in her head a voice murmered that she had once been a good girl and she was now acting like a whore, but that voice was quickly obliterated by an overwhelming wanton desire. She was dancing for JB and his friend, and she loved JB.

Abel Grantif liked what he saw. “Now strip. Do it slow. Remember, you have three songs onstage once an hour. You want to have your top off by the end of the first song, your bottom off by the end of the second, then collecting tips in your garter while you show everybody your pussy for the finale.”

All the intricate instructions were making the newly-stupid slut dizzy, but she tried her best to follow them because her lover was smiling, and so was his friend, so this must be important. She was up on Abel’s desk by the end of the third song, wearing nothing but her white schoolgirl shoes, lace socks and the garter JB had remembered to have her wear.

This girl is good, real good, the boss thought. And she’s cute too. He felt a stirring in his dick, which actually wasn’t all that common anymore since he’d seen so many girls stripping every day, he’d become jaded. He peeled off a twenty from a wad of bills he always kept nearby for show, and placed it in April’s garter as she girated her engorged bald quim near his face.

“Oh, my gawd!” she gushed. “Thank you, Mr. Grantif, sir.”

“My pleasure, Sweetie. Now get under the desk and suck my cock while your manager and I do a little negotiating.”

For the first few days, April lived in that office. Abel liked her around that much. He also wanted her to get the feel of the place. She met the other girls, who mostly treated her well, though some were suspicious and jealous of her because she was getting so much of the boss’s attention.

One of the girls, who called herself Modawna, took April under her wing to ‘show her the ropes’, so to speak. Modawna was a beautiful black girl who had like April been a student at Pitt until she met JB Neuman. Neither of the girls were aware conscously that they were victims of mind control training, the black girl even told April that she had been intensely in love with JB.

“But now,” a huge bright smile crossed Modawna’s face, “I found the true man of my dreams. I am deeply in love with Frost-T, my personal manager.” April was curious about this, because she couldn’t imagine falling out of love with her wonderful JB.

Madawna showed the new girl around the various sections of the premises. There was the stage, the bar, the front audience seats, the sidewall audience booths that the girls called ‘the blowjob seats’ because they were equipt with pillow padding on the floor for the girl’s knees as they knelt to suck the dicks as the customers relaxed and watched the show. It was all for an extra cost, of course. There were also five small cubicles behind the stage equipt with small beds and sex toys for the johns who wanted straight fucking, ass fucking, or perhaps something a bit rougher involving bondage, spanking or whipping. On the weekends the sex rooms were very busy, and sometimes even had lines outside the doors, so that Abel had to impose a twenty minute limit on the room activity. There was even a seperate little bathtub room for customers who wanted to piss on a girl. It was all for an extra price, and there were quite a few wealthy gentlemen who paid a very expensive yearly membership fee to be allowed total access of the facilities and the strippers. These members could also, for a seperate fee, take a girl home for a night. Occassionally a girl wouldn’t come back from such nights, and the rumor among the strippers would be that she had been bought as a sex slave.

By Thursday Abel felt it was time April start dancing. He thought he was clever in inventing a stage name for her, ‘April May’, which he posted at the bottom of the list of strippers on the poster outside the club.

That night before getting dressed JB held her face in his hands, gazed deep into her eyes and said her secret trigger word. The next thing April knew, she was in front of a room full of men, swaying her booty as she sassily sauntered across the stage, dressed in a sheer pink thin-strapped top and a pretty pink thong hiked above a shiny black micromini skirt. A packed crowd of randy males were hooting and hollering for the new girl.

“Give it up, guys!” the MC’s voice had boomed over the heavy trip-hop music, “for our first-time hottie, sweet little APRIL MAY!” The rauchous cheering that followed made April feel happy and horny, and she smiled brightly as she sashayed down the runway toward the poll. She loved these guys, each and every one of them, and she was going to give them a great sexy show.