The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

With two of my female students, both of whom were taking both my classes, now regularly joining me in my bedroom I had an even bigger problem than before. Of course, it also meant I had even more electrifying sexual experiences as well… but there were issues larger than that at stake. The biggest problem I faced, perhaps surprisingly, was the fact that both Rachel and Mandy were dying to try out their new skills on other girls in the school. Amanda’s sexual awakening had occurred because of Rachel’s seduction of her at the school, but the blond was keen to catch up on missed time… Neither were too active though, thanks to my involvement, but they’d look at all the other young woman in the school in terms of seduction and lesbianism, rather than as people who might find out their supposedly guilty secret.

That was all very laudable, of course, but left me in a difficult situation. I could hardly ban them from being young, vivacious and gay, but I couldn’t have them bringing me into their other relationships. If nothing else, the cost to me would sky rocket and it would seem very strange that all the quiet, pretty but innocent girls in their final year were suddenly bursting out as attractive, well dressed and confident woman, especially ones who were strangely uninterested in boys.

The fact that two of the least popular girls in my class had, over a period of two to three months, suddenly become the most beautiful young women in the school demonstrated this fact rather starkly. Everyone was talking about them, even the members of the faculty. Rachel and Mandy, who had never been seen to be friends and who had managed to become so close to me thanks, mostly, to the fact that no one paid them much attention, were suddenly the centre of all the local gossip. Both of them loved it.

I, on the other hand, felt my control of the situation rapidly disappear and it only slipped further away with the end of the spring term. At that point, almost to my relief, my two young charges went back to their families. Amanda had never been far apart from hers but could no longer wangle it to come over to mine nearly every night of the week. Similarly, with the roads clear and school not due for another month or so, Rachel, to our mutual regret, was reunited with her family for the first time since Christmas.

In those four weeks I desperately thought about my situation. It seemed to be almost stable… Rachel and Mandy both had a term left at the school. During the summer I’d urge them to get out into the student populace and spend more time with people their own age. In time they’d graduate, move on to college, both girls having been accepted to decent universities thanks to their good grades, and forget me… It wasn’t exactly the most happy of fantasies but it did diffuse a potentially explosive situation. If things went like that, everything would be fine…

What I hadn’t counted on were the other girls in the school. There were several groups, or cliques, and Rachel and Mandy had caused a massive upheaval of them. Thanks to my help, not to mention my eye for fashion and making yourself up, I was only approaching my 24th birthday for crying out loud, the two of them had suddenly gone from zeroes to the most popular young women in the school.

Parties, nights out and the like all opened up for them. The boys at the school couldn’t believe that two such gorgeous girls had been present all along. They couldn’t figure out how they’d missed them… I could. On top of this, both of them had maintained excellent academic records and, far from letting their new found popularity go to their heads, had stayed true to their old friends and pleasant attitudes.

This had two major repercussions. The girls at the top of the totem pole loathed the two upstarts with a passion bordering on the fanatical and fuelled by jealousy and, in some cases, strange feelings in their sexually sensitive areas… But Rachel was used to dealing with them and, with her friend’s help, Mandy could just about manage it too. This wasn’t the major difficulty. That was the second group of girls… everyone else.

With their new found popularity, but refreshing lack of arrogance, during the final few weeks of the spring term, and the holiday that followed, just about every girl at the school, in the final few years but not in the upper echelons of popularity, flocked to these two bright young stars in droves. Many of them had never spent time going shopping, spending money, chatting about sex or anything like that… They were fairly clueless. This led to some fairly predictable results…

Rachel and Amanda went through these girls like only two liberated young women can… By the time I saw them again in the summer the faculty members were having very serious discussions about the reports of rampant lesbianism issued forth from disgruntled parents. Up to that point the school had been fairly puritanical about sex… it didn’t happen there... Of course, one of the reasons the most popular girls stayed popular was that they were the only ones who hooked up with the popular boys. That was what gave them their power… the knowledge of the mysterious world of sex. But they kept that knowledge to themselves, for the most part. Rachel and Mandy did not.

As their final year started the school was a riot of colour and promiscuity. Every girl was experimenting, both with other girls and with boys. Some of the boys were even conducting experiments themselves, with the younger girls and other boys… The parties, which before had been quiet, parent organised affairs, became increasingly rowdy and sexual. The venues stayed the same, it was just a question of picking a house where the parents were out of town that weekend… More than one mother and father came back that summer to find their home missing a few breakable objects and with suspiciously fresh linen on the beds…

At the centre of it all, somewhat surprisingly, was where I found myself. Rach and Mandy stayed true to our secret and never said who’d been the first to awaken whom… they always said they just found each other over the winter of their final year. However, they did explain how the young, fantastically attractive French and English teacher was a great help when it came to fashion and other tips…

I started having to give fashion classes, an extracurricular course on how to dress provocatively, without becoming a tart. It was… amusing, given the fairly right wing attitudes of the rest of the faculty, but they tolerated my course due to its incredible popularity, even with some of the boys! Most afternoons I’d be there, surrounded by a rebellion of flesh and colour and always, smiling lovingly from the front row, sat Rach and Mandy.

All in all, given how old I was, how messed up I’d been back in England and the strangeness of my situation, living on my former lover’s sister’s identity in a whole new continent, I’m almost proud of how things turned out in Canada. I helped a whole generation, or five, of young men and women learn to discover and understand their sexual identity.

Sure, their families might not have been delighted, but at the time everyone was holding back so much from children that they were delighted to hear some of the truths about life… sex is fun, falling in love can happen, riches and arrogance don’t necessarily equal happiness but they do help… I have to say, after being in the school systems of four different countries, we’d be a lot better off encouraging the children to learn about love and sex rather than treating it as taboo… but that’s just one woman’s opinion.

Anyhow, the school was ablaze with happy, horny teenagers. I was regularly enjoying the attentions of two of the most beautiful girls I’d ever encountered and the summer term was halfway completed. It seemed that my major indiscretion had gone by unnoticed by the powers that be. But there was one person in particular who I’d neglected in all this… Rachel’s mother.

It happened one day, it being that Rach turned up at my apartment, out of the blue and without having called me. She was in dire straights. Her mother, usually too distracted to notice her daughters’ more subtle ‘problems,’ had discovered Rachel’s relationship with Amanda. She’d phoned up Mandy’s parents who’d been… aware and acceptant of their daughter’s lesbianism, if not exactly happy about it.

Rach’s mom had demanded to know how often her daughter slept round at Mandy’s. Almost never, had been the reply, we thought she stayed round at yours… The rest of the conversation need not be repeated. What was certain was that Rach’s mom, Tiffany, found out enough to guess that Rachel’s lesbianism came from me. Hearing this had made Tiffany so livid she’d almost marched off to the school there and then and only didn’t because it was late on a Wednesday night. However, she still threw Rach out of the house and the girl had come to me…

Even as she said it there was a furious knocking on my front door. I knew straight away that Tiffany had followed her daughter and that she was about to confront me. Ordering Rach through to the bedroom I shouted out that I’d be right there before mentally composing myself for a moment. In the scant seconds I had to think my options were strangely clear. Tiffany, a committed Catholic, would accept no pleas for clemency from me. She would merely confirm what she knew and would go to the principle’s office the following morning. So what could I do to stop her? An idea came…

Rushing into my bedroom I searched through my meagre collection of jewellery while telling Rachel that I loved her but I was going to have to try something very risky. She asked what and I simply said that, if it worked, we’d be fine. If it didn’t she’d probably be ok. Again she pressed me, as I found the one necklace I owned, a silver chain with a piece of amethyst on the end.

Finally I simply stated that she had to trust me to do it and couldn’t come out of the bedroom no matter what she heard, or saw or thought. Did she trust me enough to do that? After just a second’s hesitation she said yes. Giving her a kiss for good luck, doing up the buttons of the black dress I was wearing, quickly brushing my hair, finding some slip on shoes and slipping on the necklace, I went out of the bedroom closed the door, dimmed the lights in the main room and finally went to the apartment’s entrance, opening it to reveal Tiffany outside, besides herself with anger. Hypnotising her was going to be difficult.

“Where’s my daughter you monster!” she bellowed. I tried to placate her while also endeavouring to take the initiative.

“Theresa, that’s really not very nice,” I replied calmly, “Your daughter is in here, crying in my bedroom. She said that you were accusing her of all sorts of things. Why is that?”

“Huh!” snorted Tiffany at that, “If you think I’ll believe that you’re grossly mistaken.” Her usually soft, Midwestern voice was a harsh, guttural tone now, more Spanish than American, and her tired, prematurely aged face had hardened appreciably. Looking at her I was reminded of where Rachel got her good looks from. Her mother was Mexican, an illegal immigrant most likely who’d hooked up with a guy in Georgia, married him and had two kids.

With their ridiculous migration to Canada and his subsequent disappearing act, Tiffany, the name he’d made her change Theresa to, had lost a lot of her youth to the plight of her children, working all the hours God sent to get them through school and, at least in Rachel’s case, to college on a scholarship. It had aged her appreciably and she looked older than her thirty odd years, with flecks of grey sprinkled amongst her beautiful, fine black hair. I tried to calm her down.

“Please Theresa,” I said as softly as I could, “Won’t you just come inside and we can talk. At least tell me what you want to say when you’re sitting down out of the cold.” Her mouth was a firm line of antipathy but, in the tired depths of her eyes, I could see the desire to rest, a desire I had to fuel while diffusing as much of her anger as possible.

“Ok,” she relented, responding to her Mexican name with at least the twinge of a friendly smile. I stood aside and she walked in, losing her coat onto the carpet of the warm apartment. Looking at her, in the black and white of her hotel cleaner’s uniform, I reflected again on how lucky Rach was to have Theresa as a mother, even if she was so unlucky to have Anthony Hurlock, so I’d been told his name was, as a father. I bade her sit down on the sofa and she did, with a sigh, while I perched on the same bit of furniture, less than two feet away from her.

“Now tell me please,” I began, “What ever is the matter?” Theresa’s anger returned.

“You tell me!” she yelped, “I let you look after my daughter for months on end and she comes back to me yearning for this girl, this… Mandy… So I ask her, who is this Mandy and she tells me it is her girlfriend. God doesn’t want you to have girlfriends, I say, and she says there’s nothing to be ashamed about it and how you, her teacher, understand perfectly well!

“Well, I find this Mandy’s parents in the phonebook and I ask them about Rachel. ‘Yes,’ they say, ‘She does see Mandy but no, she doesn’t do it here.’ Well where do they see each other then? I wondered that but did not ask, as I knew! They see each other at their teacher’s apartment, the woman who has stolen and corrupted my daughter!” She’d pretty much hit the nail on the head, but, with a deep breath, I sought to diffuse the situation.

“What about at school?” I wondered, “It would be perfectly reasonable for these girls to see each other there.”

“Hah!” exclaimed the Mexican woman, “But what about in the night time? It seems the two of them have been spending almost every night away from Mandy’s home. They haven’t been at mine so where can they have been? A hotel? No, too expensive. What about a motel? Possible, but unlikely. All the motels around here are flea filled cesspits. Anyone going there would be itching all over and Rachel most certainly is not. So, where have they been? Where is cheap, near the school and somewhere they are both welcome? Why the apartment of their teacher, Ms Amélie Loire…”

She said it without triumph, more with sadness. Hearing the undertone to her voice I realised what Theresa’s biggest feeling was in all this… betrayal. I was the one woman who’d helped her, who’d looked after her daughters and even given a room to one… yet it turned out, all along, that I’d only being trying to bed one of them! It really destroyed her faith in humanity and, looking at her dejection, I realised that she didn’t have much else to fall back on. Her life was one long treadmill to pay for her kids and the one person she’d trusted, since her husband Anthony, had now turned out to be even more false… at least he’d run off with a member of the opposite sex…

“Theresa,” I said quietly, “There’s something I should show you.” Stirred out of her sorrowful depths the Mexican woman looked at me, trying but failing to hide her pain and humiliation beneath a layer of anger. Was there enough in there to trust me one last time? Did I deserve it? Probably not, but the scandal she’d bring down on me, Rachel, Mandy and the whole school, not to mention herself, seemed infinitely worse than what I was about to do, although I suffer no illusions… I did it to save myself.

“What is it?” she asked. I reached around the back of my neck and unclasped the necklace, praying my rusty skills would prove enough.

“It’s something my father gave me before he died,” I invented… well, he gave me the money to buy it at least, on my 17th birthday, and I had done, buying the ‘hypnotic inducer’ from a magic shop in the King’s road! But such reminisces were not the issue at that time. Instead, I started my induction:

“A piece of jewellery, my father told me, which my grandmother owned and that can explain the truth to someone.” This was a complete fabrication but seemed to do the trick as Theresa, ill prepared or aware of hypnosis, focussed on the semi precious stone.

“That’s right,” I explained softly, “This stone has the amazing ability to tell people the truth. If you stare into it you’ll find out everything you’ll ever want to know about the truth… it will reflect back whatever you want to know, but you have to look deep into it, let yourself sink deep into it… keep all your focus on it…” Theresa’s tired eyes were focussed on the stone. It seemed to be doing its job, now it was time to step up a gear, before something or someone, namely Rach, came in to ruin the induction.

“You’re doing so well, Theresa,” I continued softly, “You’re focussing entirely on the stone and it’s telling you the truth… that you’re tired, that you’re so very tired after such a long couple of days… that you want to rest your eyes and sleep… let yourself drift off to sleep… forget your worries and your concerns… just drift off to sleep…

“But you can’t, the gem is all you can look at... It seems so big and so enthralling before you that you can’t look anywhere else… You remember what you know about hypnosis, about how easy it is to be entranced by someone who’s caught your attention on something bright and beautiful… like I’ve caught your attention, Theresa, with my bright and beautiful gem… You can’t look anywhere else and you’re sinking into a trance, Theresa… you’re drifting off to sleep… fast asleep, where you’re completely hypnotised…” Her eyes were focussed on the gem and unblinking, her face slack. It seemed I’d succeeded.

“When I count down from ten to zero, Theresa,” I continued, hoping to achieve a strong control over her to undo the damage of the earlier revelations, “You will sink further into the trance, each number making your eyes close a little more until, at zero they will be completely shut. As the numbers count down you will also surrender a little more of your mind to me, the woman who has hypnotised you… me, Amélie… Do you understand Theresa? Say yes very quietly if you do.”

“Yes…” she whispered. My god, Tanya, the thrill! I’d completely forgotten the awesome spectacle of having someone else in my control, of having them hypnotised before me, slack faced and beautiful, their innermost workings mine to alter. However, given the situation, I soon recovered from my feelings of awe and returned to the work in hand.

“Excellent Theresa,” I finished the induction, “Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… zero……” Her eyes had closed slowly with each number and now they were shut. I rapidly moved on to the suggestions.

“Now that you are hypnotised you must obey all my instructions, Theresa,” I commanded, “These are as follows: you will forget ever having been hypnotised by me and what happened while you were in the trance. Whenever you wonder about this evening you will think that you came over here, discussed what you wanted to discuss with me to a happy resolution and then went home to bed to get up for work tomorrow. You won’t remember exactly what happened inside my apartment, just that you had a successful conversation with me. However, in your subconscious you will remember all my post hypnotic suggestions and obey them totally.

“You will accept Rachel’s lesbianism and, though you can council her on it, you will never forget that you love her as a daughter and will never try and force her to change. It is her decision and, although you are allowed to discuss it with her, you will always keep your temper on the subject. As for me, you will think that I merely provided a spare bed to Rachel and, though she sometimes shared it with Mandy, I was unaware of her lesbianism and am certainly not its cause.

“Finally, whenever you hear me and only me say the words: ‘Theresa you are looking extremely tired,’ you will silently count from ten down to zero and re-enter this hypnotic trance, falling asleep a little more with each number until, at zero, you are completely entranced again. Whenever you hear me and only me say the words: ‘Theresa, I think you should go home and get some sleep,” you will silently count from zero to ten, waking up with each number until, at ten, you will be fully awake. At that point you will feel very tired and want to go home and, gathering any of your possessions you need, you will go home and go to bed. Do you understand all of this?”

“Yes…” was the whispered reply again.

“Excellent,” I replied, “In which case: Theresa, I think you should go home and get some sleep.” Slowly the Mexican woman came to. She looked at me in a strange daze for a moment before looking around the room briefly.

“I’m absolutely exhausted Amélie,” she told me with a yawn, “I’ll think I’ll go home and get to bed.”

“Don’t forget your coat,” I warned. She smiled at that, picking it up and putting it on with only the slightest frown of confusion, before shaking her head, as if to clear away some tiredness, and making her way and out and to her home, closing the door behind her. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and went into my bedroom. Rachel was sat on the side of the bed, looking incredibly tense. When she saw me she sprung up and came to me, looking over my shoulder for her mother.

“Your mother has gone home,” I told her.

“What?” she asked, amazed, before a look of thrilled surprise filled her face and she hugged me close before pulling back a little, “How did you persuade her to go?” I smiled and held the necklace up before her eyes.

“Well it had something to do with looking into this…” I began.

TO BE CONTINUED…