The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’ve always said that you didn’t need to hypnotize a man to get him to have sex with you. You hypnotize a man to control how he behaves afterwards.

“Happy 3 week anniversary, babe!” Daniel came into my dorm room, picked me up, and spun me around, all in one motion. “Damn, I’ve missed you, baby! Lemme at those lips!”

He kissed me hard, his full, warm lips and insistent tongue making me swoon as always. I giggled.

“You goof, it’s only been two hours! I had class!”

His big Nordic face, all carefully disheveled blonde hair and startling blue eyes, was so close to mine. Just where I liked it. He grinned. “I know, but I just don’t have as much fun when you’re not around … I mean, I can’t stop thinking about you! Which is nice, but it’s distracting!” He laughed. “Damn, girl, what did you do to me?”

I had a moment of panic, but then he laughed again, and so did I. He was still holding me about a foot off the ground. His upper body strength was definitely on the rise. I was so proud of my boy.

“So what are we going to do tonight?” he asked.

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky,” I sighed.

“Mmmm … Netflix and fuck??” Daniel started moving my body up and down, rubbing me against his boner. I could already feel its thickness, hitting me in some wonderful spots, and it was getting harder as he stroked himself with my tiny form. He was making me wet, and I almost gave in, but fought for a little control.

“Down, Daniel,” I said, with just a bit of a hard edge. He set me on the ground immediately. “Sit.” He sat obediently on the bed. “Good boy,” I said, giving him a playful skritch behind the ear, and he smiled.

Not that I wouldn’t love a good fuck, and in fact would love to get picked up and slammed down on his hard cock while he stood there—I filed that thought away for later—but I had to assert my dominance occasionally or he’d start thinking he was calling the shots. It wouldn’t do for him to have sex every time he wanted it … maybe just 75 percent of the time.

“Well, we’re broke, so … yeah, pretty much,” I said. “But that’s okay.”

“Aww, for our anniversary, though?”

“Silly. We’ll have another one in a week!” I grinned, walking to him and hugging his face to my breasts. I liked when he was sitting down—with something like a foot difference in our heights, it was the only time I could pat him on the head … or get his mouth on my nipples.

“Oh!” he said, somewhat muffled. “I forgot to tell you. I got a job!”

“You did?” I pulled away, holding his big dumb ears in my hands, so I could look at him.

“Uh huh! At the Home Depot. Got to talking to a guy I met at the gym, and he hooked me up. It’ll just be a few hours on the weekends, at least until summer, but it should help.”

“Aww, sugar, that’s wonderful! THAT is a wonderful anniversary present. I’m so proud of you!”

He beamed.

“Let me just check the control panel, and then we’ll get something to eat, okay? Sleepy Time, Danny boy.”

“Control panel? Wha—aaaaaaa…….” His rising tone sagged, and the inflection went down, down, down—along with his eyelids and his jaw.

“Smell my control over you, seeping into your skull, all through your brain. That magic smell that permeates every limb, relaxing every muscle, easing all resistance. Your hands are limp in your lap, your thoughts turn slow and sluggish. Every molecule is happy and content and listening carefully, that’s my good, good boy, my docile, obedient boy.”

He sat on my bed, like he’d been unplugged, smiling gently, his eyes unfocused. I had come to think of it as Standby Mode. And frankly, it got me aroused as hell. I knew that he could remember the smell of the poppers, and their effects, and right now his whole body was as relaxed and receptive as if he was breathing them deeply at this moment … plus the deepening effects of three weeks of additional conditioning.

“OK, Danny boy, where are we? Report.”

“Down two p’nds since las’ week,” he slurred. “Bench presss—pressing twenny more over las’ Friday. Math tess, I gotta 92 … a 3 p’cent increase ov’r lass test.”

“What a good boy! OK, lie down and take off your pants.”

He obeyed, while I hurriedly stripped naked. I was dripping wet. His erection stood up straight and proud, as he lay back with his arms at his sides, looking at the ceiling. I straddled him, sinking down on his shaft. Goddamn, he felt good. “You may not—uunnff—cum without permission. State your rules.”

“Rule one,” he intoned, as I slid up and down his amazing cock. “I should spend a little time every day thinking of how to make Casey happy. Rule two—one hour every day working out in the gym or other exercise …”

I’m a good person. Daniel is a good person. All I was doing was helping him, I told myself. (Often, not just when I was riding his hypnotized body.) He was getting himself in better shape, he was focusing on his studies more—both things he was already doing well in, or I wouldn’t have been attracted to him. I was helping him to be a good boyfriend to me, which, OK, let’s face it, was a little more for me. But it benefited him too!

“Rule five, no more masturbation. Rule six, when I’m away from Casey, I get more and more horny until I can see her again …”

OK, yes, after a while I started getting carried away with the power. But it was still for a good purpose! After about a week, I theorized that reinforcing his programming with sexual pleasure helped, and that therefore, I should be his only outlet. His only source of orgasms. So, I told him no more getting off by himself (though he wouldn’t remember that I told him that, he just told himself he was getting enough from me and didn’t need anything else). And then after a few days, I experimented with ramping up his arousal when we were apart, so he would be hot and ready as soon as we got together. He was putty in my hands when he was horny, and I found I liked having him horny, like, all the time.

“Rule eight, I’m pleased to fulfill any and all sexual fantasies of Casey’s, even if they’re not my own.”

I was improving him, dammit! I slammed down on his hard cock, almost angrily, I was getting close. I was fixing him! I was making him a better person and a better boyfriend! And why shouldn’t I get something out of it too?

“Good boy,” I gasped.

I didn’t really have anything in mind when I’d made that last rule. I just wanted him to be willing to experiment with me—since I could already tell I was going to be feeling experimental soon. This whole experience was making me bold. I wouldn’t make him like my fantasies, if he didn’t want to. I just suggested he should be willing. After all, I reminded myself, increasing my pace … I couldn’t hypnotize him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

I screamed out in orgasm, and collapsed on him.

He wanted to work out. He wanted to get good grades. He wanted to go out with me, and make me happy. He had to, or none of this was possible. Right?

I couldn’t hypnotize him to do anything he didn’t want to do. I had to take comfort in that thought.

His throbbing cock was still filling me up, and seemed unusually hard. His face looked like … like he was in some pain. Oh! I didn’t let him cum!

I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Sleepy Time, Danny,” I murmured after a moment. “Deep sleep now. Go soft. Save it for later.” He relaxed, his face softening, his muscles losing their tension beneath me.

“One little thing, my docile puppy, and then I’ll wake you up. Let me tell you about Beast Mode …”

You may wonder why I didn’t make it a rule that he can’t sleep with other women. I didn’t command him to keep eyes off, hands off, anyone but me. Did you spot that little loophole?

Get horny when you’re away from me. And don’t beat off. Yes, even with having amazing, frequent sex with your girlfriend, some men—some of YOU, perhaps—would still have been aware that there was another choice. And I had (deliberately, I think) left it as an option that he COULD try to sleep with someone else to relieve the pressure—especially once I started experimenting with a little bit of denial here and there. So, why?

Well, those first few weeks I was still trying to be good. Trying to do as little as possible. I wanted to make Daniel a better person, but I had fallen in love with the fact that he was already a good, decent person. So, I shouldn’t need to tell him that. If he couldn’t stay faithful to me without my hypnotizing him to, then he wasn’t the man I thought he was. And I wanted him to love me for me, not because I made him. The drugs and hypnosis were, you know … just to break down the first barriers.

That’s what I told myself, anyway. There may have been something else I was trying not to face.

The fact was, while I was trying not to change Daniel too much … I was definitely changing myself.

That night, we got burgers from the Pit, the campus fast-food place (both worse and better than the official cafeteria) and curled up in his room, an RA suite, to watch something scary on Netflix—Oculus, about a possessed mirror and the hot redhead from Doctor Who. I squealed a lot and screamed a couple times and cuddled against him for protection, and he chuckled and held me close and protected me. By the end he was feeling very frisky, kissing my neck and running his hand under my shirt to tease my bare breasts, as I pressed my ass against the heat of his hard-on. (After all, as far as he knew, it had been about 24 hours since we’d had sex.)

He pulled back on my shoulder until I was lying flat on the bed, gazing up at him. He kissed me passionately, breathing heavily. He ran his fingers through my hair, looking into my eyes as he pulled up my shirt and kissed my petite breasts. He was aching with need, that was obvious, but he was a gentleman. My gentleman. A considerate and gentle lover.

My anniversary present was to free him from that.

As he threw one leg over my thigh—still the eager puppy, but capable of backing down if I said no—and started humping my sweatpants as he nuzzled my neck, I put my mouth close to his ear and whispered, “Beast Mode.”

The change that came over him was immediate. He reared back, looking at me, and it was like I could see Jekyll snatched away and replaced with Hyde. I swear I saw his pupils dilate, then contract. In an instant, his head was down, his eyes were hooded, and his nostrils flared. My puppy was gone. I was in bed with a wolf. A wolf with a slightly cruel smile.

Daniel stood up from the bed, yanking off his belt and dropping his pants. He grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me forward, aiming my head at his crotch, not caring how I had to scramble off the bed to keep up, my knee hitting the carpet harder than I would have liked. He’d never grabbed my ponytail before, much as I had fantasized about it, but that night he was using it—using me—for his own pleasure.

He held onto my “handle” as he forced his throbbing cock into my mouth again and again. I gagged and choked, throwing drool everywhere, but he didn’t stop. I didn’t want him to, I loved it. I loved my gentle giant, but I craved this too, and now I had both! At my command!

Finally, he released me, only to strip off my shirt, soaking wet with my saliva. I was still gasping as he wordlessly hauled me to my feet and ripped off my sweatpants and underwear with his meaty paws. He pushed me down onto the bed, on my hands and knees, with a growl. I stayed quite still, trembling, as I heard him getting naked behind me, then suddenly—UUUNNGGH!! He was inside me, deeper than I think he’d ever been before. He pounded my tiny cunny like a madman, on all fours over me and around me, enveloping me like a lion raping a baby goat. Somehow he held off, containing his pent-up need from spilling out into me too soon. I screamed through a violent orgasm without him even slowing down, and as he moved his hands from the bed to my shoulders, he got even deeper inside my now-aching pussy. I needed a break, I was very sensitive after cumming, but Daniel was not going to be stopping anytime soon.

At last he backed away, standing up, but as soon as I rolled over, he grabbed me again, lifting up in a bear hug. He held me close with one arm, my arms around his neck, while he guided my drooling slit down onto his throbbing member. Then, both hands on my hips and ass, he pounded me up and down on his cock, using me like a sex toy as he stood in the middle of the room and I held onto his neck for dear life.

He bellowed like a bear when he finally came inside me, and it seemed to go on forever, pulse after pulse shooting hot geyser blasts into my womb. When his weakening arms finally let me sag toward the floor, I slid slowly down his body until I was kneeling at his feet, suckling the last of his cum from his softening shaft that tasted deliciously like my pussy.

With his orgasm, he seemed to slowly come back to himself. “I … “ he said, panting. “I am so, so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that.”

I stood up, smiling as I scooped a little cum off my chin and sucked on my finger. “It’s fine, sugar, I liked it!” I stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “And I hope it’s not the last time …”

He grinned, and followed me to bed. My pussy was sore, but we managed to do something again—more gentle—before we fell asleep.

I used to be a shy bookworm. I think the girl I was even three months ago would be surprised by this sexual creature I’ve become, tasting my juices mixed with cum off a boy’s cock. Not to mention riding him with wild abandon as I whisper things in his ear.

I should probably have been worried about how I was changing. But sexual vistas were opening up, and power was going to my head.

And after all, I couldn’t change enough to do anything I didn’t want to do … Right?