The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I met Daisy at a college party. I was an incoming senior, and my friend invited me to this fraternity thing. I wasn’t too into frats, but it was a good way to meet hot girls. I was no player, but I did score every now and then. The party was crowded, and I was pretty drunk when this cute girl came right up to me and introduced herself. She shook my hand, which I thought was weird. I mean, what college girl shakes a guy’s hand, right? She had brown hair down to her shoulders and was cute but not hot. She held my hand and didn’t let go as she said, “I’m Daisy Summers. And you are?”

“Mike. Mike Davis.”

“Well, Mike Davis, it seems that you and I have a small problem.”

She still held my hand, and I thought she was slowly lifting it higher, which felt weird. I was confused. “What problem?”

“You are drunk, are you not? And—” She touched my forearm with her other hand and slowly ran her finger up it—“And if you’re too drunk you won’t be able to realize what I’m saying to you now.”

Now she was definitely lifting my hand, and meanwhile was staring at me so intently I forgot what I was going to say.

“But it’s not necessary to remember to think or to forget to remember that your arm is floating up on its own, all on its own.”

I wasn’t sure if she was lifting my arm anymore, and when I looked at it my arm was rising in the air like I was asking a question. No, she wasn’t holding my hand anymore. It was the strangest feeling. “Up, up, up,” she said, and my arm kept going up.

“You’ll do just fine,” she said, smiling. She took my raised hand and led me to a side porch of the frat house. A few people were making out or smoking weed on the couches, but they ignored us. I thought we were going to make out too, but I felt a little off balance.

“What was your name again?” I said.

“Daisy. Daisy Summers.” She held out her hand.

“Oh, no. I’m not falling for that trick again. What did you do?”

“That was no trick,” she said. Then, “Oh my God!” She pointed up into the sky.

When I looked she touched my ear and whispered, “Relax, Mike,” in a soothing, sexy voice that made my balls tingle. When I turned back to look at her she snapped her fingers in my ears, left and right, while saying, “Just let go. Just relax.” I felt totally confused and perplexed. Then she put a single finger on my forehead and shouted “Sleep!”

I opened my eyes inside the passenger seat of a car. My first thought was that I had gotten so drunk I had passed out and was in a cab home. But when I saw Daisy was driving, I knew that wasn’t true.

“How...?”

“Don’t freak out, Mike, okay? Actually, you won’t. That was one of the suggestions I gave you.”

“What?”

“I hypnotized you, Mike. I’m a Ph. D student here at State in advanced psychology. My dissertation is on covert methods of manipulation. I was testing a theory of the covert hypnotizability of drunk subjects. I tried it on four others before you with varying success. It worked better on you because you were more sober than those frat boy buffons.”

“You hypnotized me? Bullshit.”

“Believe it, Mike. I’ve taken down hundreds, maybe thousands, without their conscious awareness or consent. Don’t worry, though. I didn’t embarrass you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Her GPS unit announced, “You have arrived at your destination,” and when I looked up we were right in front of my off-campus house.

“How did you—”

“Oh we had a very long conversation when you were under. Look, you’re a very good subject, and I need someone to experiment on for my paper.” She handed me a business card. “Call me at that number when you have some free time. I have an office on campus.”

“I don’t think so. This has all been too weird.”

“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind,” she said with an evil smirk on her face. Then she pulled away. I walked upstairs to my bedroom totally confused. Doug was not going to believe the night I had.

I had class the next day, and forgot all about Daisy and her “hypnotizing” me. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in hypnosis. I knew it had therapeutic uses, but the idea that she could just zonk me out like that didn’t sit well with me. Maybe she gave me roofies or something. I thought about reporting her. I had her number after all. But I had no proof. And it would make me look foolish, being taken advantage of by a woman.

By that evening, I had chalked it up to just another wild college night and sat down to do my homework in our house’s kitchen, when I emptied my pockets and found Daisy’s card. I flipped it over and on its backside was written, “Belts, huh?”

I felt a strange stirring in my groin. Ever since puberty I had a fetish for women wearing belts, especially belts with shiny or mirror like buckles. But almost any belt would do. Was Daisy referring to my fetish? I know she said we had a conversation while I was supposedly “under.” I didn’t like the way this made me feel. Very open and insecure. I picked up the phone and dialed the number, angry, and hoping to close this chapter of weirdness once and for all.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

“Daisy?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Mike. From last night.”

“I was wondering when you were going to call.”

“Look, whatever you did to me last night, it’s totally wrong and manipulative. Did you give me roofies or something?”

“Roofies?” she said, laughing. “No way. I told you, you were under hypnosis.”

“I don’t believe you. You can’t make someone do something under hypnosis that they don’t want to do.”

“True. But who says you didn’t want a ride home with me?”

I felt foolish for calling her. I should have just forgotten about the experience and moved on. “You know what, I have to go.” But I couldn’t hang up for some reason.

“You’re under a post-hypnotic suggestion, Mike.”

“What?”

“I told you to call me and you did.”

“No, I called because I was angry at what you did to me.”

“Your conscious mind will give any reason it thinks of. You called because I told you to, and that’s that.”

“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of this.”

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” she said. “I’m a psyche student. Once you realize how little conscious control we have over our lives, it can be quite scary. But I assure you, Mike, that you have nothing to fear from me. Why don’t you come in tomorrow so we can discuss this?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Look, I could just drop you with a post-hypnotic suggestion and command you to come, but I’d much rather you choose to come yourself, Mmmkay? Say, 10 am at my office? The address is on the card. And if I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll wear something on the back of the card too.”

She hung up the phone, and I sat there in the kitchen with the phone to my ear for ten minutes. This woman was totally controlling me and I was terrified. I tried doing my homework, but I kept imagining Daisy wearing a belt, and before long I had to go to the bathroom to masturbate. Afterwards, I felt even more insecure. What was she doing to me?

I showed up at her office a half hour early. She arrived fifteen minutes later carrying a briefcase. She was dressed more studiously, with a dark blouse, pants, and librarian’s glasses. She wore a skinny belt—not the type I like very much, but nonetheless I found her very sexy. She ushered me in and sat me down in a chair, closing the door behind her. Then she sat at her desk, with the windows looking out to the trees in the courtyard behind her.

She took off her glasses. “As I told you the other night, I need someone to be my test subject. I will be hypnotizing you at least three times a week, but preferably every day, if you can manage the time. I will be using various techniques and methods, some classical, some I have devised. I can’t pay you anything. I don’t have that kind of money. But there are other benefits.”

“Look, Daisy, as fascinating as all this sounds, being your guinea pig, I really just came down here to set my mind straight. The truth is that ever since that night I haven’t felt myself. I don’t like feeling this way. I want to be the way I was before.”

“And what way is that?”

“I feel...off balance.”

“That’s understandable. I did manipulate you.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out a small shopping bag. From inside she retrieved three belts, one baby blue, one white, and one purple. They were exactly the kinds of belts I like, with the mirrored buckle.

“These are the ones you like, yes?” she said.

“I don’t know what I told you that night, but—”

“Do you want me to put one on?”

Oh God, I did. My hardon was throbbing in my pants by now, but there was something so wrong about this. “I—I...”

She closed the blinds so the room grew dark. Then she unbuckled her skinny belt and began putting on the purple one through her trousers. I was shaking.

“This was the one,” she said. “The first belt that turned you on.” She flicked on a desk lamp, and the buckle glowed in the bright light. “Your babysitter wore it once, and you found it gave you an erection. But you didn’t know why.”

Her hand switched something on her desk. It looked like a small strobe light, but it blinked in odd rhythms. She turned off her desk lamp, and positioned the strobe light so it reflected off her buckle right into my eyes. I was stunned. Here was this woman wearing the belt that turned me on so much standing before me trying to hypnotize me with it.

“Just look at the light reflecting off the buckle and try to remember the first time you saw this belt. Just relax and try to remember...”

I opened my eyes. My mouth was dry. The blinds were open and the room was bright again. Daisy handed me a glass of water. “You did very good,” she said. “Better than I expected.”

Strangely, all of the distress I felt from before had vanished. I felt good. “What did you do to me?”

“We dug deep into your memories to find out where this belt fetish comes from. As it turns out, your babysitter used to read you stories before bed.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“But, and this is interesting, you said under hypnosis that she never used a book. And from some of the stories it appears to me that she may have been using a form of hypnosis herself. She was basically inducing trance to make you go to sleep.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And in one of the stories, she spoke of a queen with a magic belt that let her do anything. She probably got the idea from the Glinda stories in the Wizard of Oz. And that belt was purple, and had a buckle that shined like a gem.”

I sat back, stunned.

“When you saw her wearing that belt that day, your subconscious mind remembered the stories, and so you, at least subconsciously, believed that your babysitter was magical and all powerful.”

“This is amazing...”

“There’s more. I think, whether she did this on purpose or not, there was a sexual undercurrent in her stories. For example, the hero—which was always you—climbing into a “great, wet cave, with his glowing sword drawn and ready for action.” And also, a “sticky pool, which sucked and blew bubbles, making your whole body feel wonderful.” Many of the stories you reiterated had a strong sexual metaphor. It seems your babysitter was both a skilled hypnotist and sexually repressed. You had no other choice but to get an erection when she wore that belt because she basically programmed you to be that way.”

“I had no idea.”

She stepped put her hands on her hips. She still wore the purple belt, and I felt my cock swelling in my jeans.

“Does it still make you erect?”

“Yes,” I said shyly.

“And in a way, I’m like that magical queen because, with hypnosis, I can make anything possible.”

My penis nearly burst through my jeans.

“This belt has been a post-hypnotic suggestion for you. Whenever you see a woman wearing one, you subconsciously think of her as sexual and all powerful. Do you like this feeling?”

“Oh God, yes.”

“Good. I’d like to do some more experiments with this methodology.”

“Daisy...”

“Yes?”

I stood. I stepped closer to her. I wanted her more than I’d wanted anyone in my life.

“Oh, I see. No, we can’t pollute this relationship with sexual relations just yet. You are attractive, Mike. But intercourse would just interfere with my objectivity. I must remain neutral. Here.” She grabbed several tissues from her desk and handed them to me. Then she took off her belt. The jangle of the buckle made me shiver with pleasure. She handed the belt to me.

“The men’s bathroom’s down the hall. You may masturbate. But don’t get any on the belt, okay?”

I felt stupid, childish, but I was too horny, and the feel of her belt in my hand filled with uncontrolled delight. I sat in a stall and jacked off. I rubbed the buckle against my penis and it felt so good. I wrapped the strap around my shaft and pulled tight. When I came, my load was so white and so heavy that I screamed. Good thing no one else was in the bathroom. After, I felt shaky and delicious, and still somewhat horny. I cleaned myself up and walked back to her office. The absurdity of the situation just hit me. A near-complete stranger just hypnotized me, regressed me back to childhood, and had me masturbate for her. What the hell was I doing?

I knocked on her closed door. She opened it, and I saw she was wearing the skinny belt again. She took the purple belt and said, “Did you release?”

I nodded.

“Good. I have work to do. I’ll call.”

Then she shut the door in my face.

I went to class, the gym, and then back home, and could not get the image of Daisy and her belt out of my head. I jerked off at least four times and found myself still horny. I thought I recalled her saying, “We can’t pollute this relationship with sexual relations just yet.” The emphasis on “just yet.” Were we going to have sex when it was finished. God, I hoped so. This total stranger had me in her thrall, and though I felt wildly out of control, I was so high from the afternoon’s experience that I didn’t care.

She called me that evening, and told me to come to her home. I was so excited I don’t remember how I got there. She ushered me in to her house, a spacious apartment off-campus, with lots of books and antiques spread about. Now she wore jeans, a blue t-shirt, and no belt. She wore a strange perfume that I could not identify.

“I thought tonight I’d hypnotize you in the living room. I have a very soft couch.” She led me into a room with two leather couches, one recliner, and what looked like stereo and photographic equipment spread about.

“I’d like you to strip down to your boxers.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What is this for?”

“I’ll explain as we go, okay?”

I slowly stripped down. The apartment was warm, especially because of a light hanging over the recliner. I sat down in the recliner as she instructed.

“Put your arms here.”

She had me lay my arms across the arm rests, and then she secured them with velcro straps.

“What the hell? Why do you need to tie me down?”

“This method of induction is very sensitive to movement. I need you to lay absolutely still”

I was in serious doubt as she secured my legs, my arms, and finally my head, and all my fears from the day before started to return. What was I doing letting this woman manipulate me?

She moved one of the large lights, which looked like a photographer’s professional flash, right before my face. Then she attached electrodes via small clips to my ears. I began to feel dizzy but pleasantly relaxed.

“The electrodes are stimulating your brain. Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She placed stereo headphones over my ears and immediately I heard these deep, resonant sounds which seemed to echo in my brain. I saw her speak into a microphone and I heard her voice echo in my ears. “Those sounds you hear are called binaural beats. They will entrain your brain into a hypnotic state even without my help.”

Then she turned on the light. The colors were so bright, and changed colors so quickly, I soon could not tell one from the next. In a minute, I couldn’t see anything except stars.

I felt a prick in my arm. “Ow!” I screamed.

“I’m sorry about this, Mike, but it’s necessary.”

“What the fuck? Did you just inject me with some...thing...”

I felt my mind slow almost instantly. Everything suddenly seemed easy, carefree. I knew I should have been alarmed, but it was too much effort.

“I’m sorry Mike, but no man is going to let me willingly enter here.”

I felt something move in my buttocks. It was some time before I realized that I was facing down. The chair had been rotated with me still strapped in. There was a back flap or something in the chair and Daisy was shoving something into my asshole!

“Daisy!” I said, trying to scream, but it came out slow and weak.

“Just relax, Mike. It’s just a special type of electrostim device.”

She flipped me over again and I felt like a flapjack. This time, she placed something over my flaccid penis. I felt totally violated, totally naked. I lost track of time as she placed more electrodes on my balls, my legs, and my chest.

All at once I felt a tremendous tingle throughout my whole body as the electrodes came to life.

“This form of hypnosis uses all available methods,” she says. “Drugs to make you more suggestible. Lights and sounds to entrain the brain to hypnotic frequencies, and physical sensations throughout your body. I can control each manually. But I wrote a computer program to control them all. I’m going to try to convince you that you have been my husband for more than a year. Starting program now.”

I tried to protest but I was too weak. Soon, I heard whispers in my ears that steadily grew in volume. I heard, “I am Mike, a college student,” and immediately my whole body erupted in pain. I felt like I wanted to die. The pain faded, and then I heard, “I am Mike, Daisy’s good husband,” and I felt so wonderful, it was hard to explain. It was as if every pore in my body was filled with bliss. It continued like this for some time, and in between, Daisy’s voice spoke to me. I’m not sure when I lost consciousness.

The alarm woke us up at 6:30am. Daisy was next to me. I switched off the buzzer and got up.

“Don’t you remember?” she said, you have off today.

“Oh, right. But you have to work dear.” I leaned over to kiss her.

“Not in the morning,” she said, pushing me away. “Morning breath.”

I cooked my wife breakfast and waited for her to come out of the shower. She arrived into the kitchen fully dressed. She wore an orange dress that had this cute belt on with a mirrored buckle. “Is that a new dress?” I said.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

I moved over to her, wanting to make love to her right there.

She pushed me away. “No, Mike. Not before work. I need to concentrate.”

Daisy was a hypnotherapist and had a full clientele. She hypnotized me many times, and I enjoyed being under her spell. “But I’m so horny, honey.”

I was still in my boxers. I watched as she took off her watch, a skinny little thing with a silver face, and pulled down my trousers. I was hard as a rock. She buckled the leather band of the watch around my throbbing penis. I felt its ticks through my cock.

She grabbed my penis and looked right into my eyes. “Timelock! You are under a timelock! You will not be able to touch yourself until three p.m. according to this watch! You will clean this apartment from top to bottom, but stay out of the living room with all its equipment. If you clean the whole place, you may masturbate at three.”

She pecked me on the lips and ran out the door.

I did what she asked. I cleaned the whole place, with her watch still strapped to my penis, and stayed hard the whole day. At three pm, I jerked off with the watch still strapped to me. I came so hard. Then I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, it was dark, and Daisy was walking in the door. The whole day came back to me.

I wasn’t her husband. I was a student, and she had hypnotized me.

“You bitch!” I said. “I thought I was...I cleaned this whole place...I’m done with your little experiments.”

She took off her coat and I saw she was wearing a purple belt with a large oval jeweled buckle, like a mirror. It glinted in the light.

“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that again. I’ve had enough! This has gone too far!”

“Michael, your reaction is understandable. But if you go into deep hypnosis for me, I’ll sleep with you. That’s what you want isn’t it?” She put her hands to her hips and swung them, making the light from the buckle dance across my eyes.

“No.”

“Are you sure? Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with your magical queen? If you just close those sleepy eyes down for me, you might just find yourself very aroused.”

Against my will, my penis grew in my pants. This wasn’t happening!

“Mike, you’re right. Making you clean my house wasn’t fair. I gave you nothing in return. Now I promise to sleep with you. I’m going to go into my bedroom. You can leave if you want. But if you instead come into the bedroom, you will fall into deep hypnosis as soon as you cross the threshold and I promise we will make wild, passionate love. You’ve earned it. So, the choice is yours. To leave, or enter into hypnosis and come to me.”

She left the room and walked into her bedroom.

I didn’t know what to do. My cock was so hard, but she had me completely enthralled. If I went to her, who knows what other things she’d have me do? And the thought of that actually made me harder. Who knew what commands she had implanted me with? I felt frozen. This was so crazy! Against my better judgment I walked into her bedroom. As soon as I entered I felt dizzy, lightheaded, and in a light trance. “Get on your knees,” she said, and I did.

Her belt was at my eye level.

“Look deep into the buckle and go to sleep, Mike. Sleep, Mike.”