The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Julianne put the last adhesive letter back on, and looked at the clock.

It was a quarter to seven. She nodded happily, and looked back at her project. The miniature monorail had an entire corner of Mr. Kubyschev’s classroom to itself for tomorrow’s science fair. It fairly glowed with newness. She’d been setting it up since school got out three hours ago, and it looked ready to go.

Transporting it from her basement to school had been tricky, but all that seemed to have broken was the miniature water tower, which she fixed with some Elmer’s glue, after she had put all the other pieces back together. Then she put up the big cardstock poster on the easel, and replaced the letters that had come unstuck.

‘Magnetism and the Train of the Future’, it announced proudly. ‘By Julianne Clairmont’.

“Here goes,” Julianne said, crossing the fingers of one hand and flipping the little black ‘on’ switch with the other. “It worked at home...”

With a hum, the little train rose above the electrified track. Julianne grinned. Then she turned the speed dial, and the train started running smoothly around the track, hovering a quarter inch above the metal surface.

She let it run four full circuits, then turned it off. Time to go home. Her mom expected her back for dinner by nine at the latest—she was supposed to call at eight if she needed more time to get everything working. But everything had reassembled perfectly. She’d be home in time to read another few chapters of The Amber Spyglass.

The hallway was empty as she locked the classroom door. No teacher thought twice about trusting Julianne with their keys. She checked that the door was locked, and headed for the exit. The winter sky was dark outside the windows which ran along the walls above the lockers. Her footsteps echoed on the concrete floor.

Then she heard laughing. Boys laughing. Who else was here at seven on a Friday? Julianne turned the corner to the front door.

The laughter stopped, and three boys looked down the hall at her.

It was Trent, and his buddies Harris and Fuzzy. Yeah, it was a funny nickname, unless you knew them.

They were Trouble.

Julianne swallowed, and turned around.

“Hey,” Trent called, “come back!”

She had to ditch them. She’d heard about Trent and his friends, and had no desire to have a run-in with them. Not with no-one else around. She walked as fast as she could back down the hall.

Behind her, she heard running.

She couldn’t stay in the hall. Quickly, she whipped out the keys that Mr. Kubyschev had given her, and tried the first door on the left. Ms. Paulman’s class. The footsteps were nearing the corner. Frantically, she fought with the lock.

Then it opened, and she darted in and closed the door. The boys rounded the corner. Quietly, she felt for the handle.

It didn’t lock from the inside.

That’s okay. They hadn’t seen her come in here. She just had to be quiet...

The footsteps turned the corner. The boys weren’t talking now, but she could hear them walking closer. Closer. And closer. They didn’t know she was here. They didn’t know she had keys. The room was dark.

“Oh Julianne,” Trent called, his voice pitched low. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

The doorknob turned.

Julianne pressed herself against the wall. If they just looked in, they wouldn’t see her. They wouldn’t see her. She just had to believe...

The door opened slowly.

“Anyone in here?” Trent asked softly.

He took a step inside.

Julianne wished herself invisible.

“I guess not,” he said.

Then, in a flash, he spun around and slammed into her, his hand clapping over her mouth hard as she screamed.

“No one important, at any rate,” he hissed. He kept his hand over her mouth, pinning one of her wrists up over her head with the other. “Now just keep quiet,” he said, “and we’ll have a little fun. If you scream, you get hurt. Got that?”

Eyes wide, Julianne nodded. Trent took his hand away. He held up a finger. “Remember,” he said. “You yell, I’ll hit you. You don’t yell, there won’t be any problems.”

The lights flipped on. Harris and Fuzzy had come into the room. She looked back at Trent. He was smiling. No, leering. She swallowed.

“Let’s play a little game,” he said. He looked at his buddies. “Close the door.”

Fuzzy closed the door, and Harris came over to stand next to Julianne. He was taller than Trent, with hair that badly needed cutting. “Hey, Julianne,” he said, in a voice deeper than you’d expect from such a lean body.

“Now,” Trent said, “we’re not going to hurt you. But you’re awfully pretty. Me and the boys were wondering,” he sneered meaningfully, “what you have under that puffy uniform shirt.”

“Yeah,” Fuzzy leered, leaning back against a desk. Julianne had no idea what his real name was.

“Letme,” Julianne gathered her breath, “Let me go, Trent.”

“Why, of course,” Trent said. “Absolutely. Take off your clothes, and you can go.”

She stared at him.

“Come on,” he said, “we’re not rapists. We’re just horny. Just three guys who want to see a pretty girl. Take off your clothes.”

“No way,” she replied.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Fair’s fair. I’ll take mine off too.”

She stared at him. This could not be real.

“Come on,” Trent said, his voice darkening. “we don’t have all night. Take something off.”

She looked at Harris, leaning on the wall between her and the door. Then she looked back at Trent.

“You first,” she said, with more boldness than she felt.

Trent grinned. With a flourish, he undid his belt, and dropped his pants to the floor. He was wearing silk boxers. They were paisley, and badly creased from being sat in all day. Julianne stared at him.

“Nice legs, huh?” he asked, stepping out of the pants. “Your turn.”

“Um,” she said, “how about Harris and Fuzzy?”

“They weren’t part of the bargain,” Trent replied. “Three for one seems kind of unfair.”

“But there’s only one of me,” Julianne replied. If Harris would just take his pants down, she could run by him...

“Okay,” Harris said. “We’ll do it. But you’re next. Then Fuzzy and I will drop trou.”

Julianne swallowed, and smiled at them. “Great,” she said. She hooked her thumbs into her uniform skirt. Hesitating, she looked at Trent again.

His boxers were steepled.

She blushed, got ashamed by her blushing and so blushed more. Staring at the floor, she pulled her skirt down.

And waited.

“Nice,” Trent finally said. “Victoria’s Secret.”

She got control of her face, and looked angrily at him. He grinned.

“Okay,” she said, picking her skirt up, “You two.”

Fuzzy grinned and began to unbutton his jeans. Harris did the same.

As soon as their pants were around their knees...

Then the door opened.

Everyone gasped.

“What the Hell is going on in here?” demanded a woman’s voice.

It was Dr. Fox, the school counselor.

“Oh,” Julianne exclaimed, relief washing over her, “Dr. Fox!”

The three boys were blushing furiously. No, actually only Fuzzy and Harris were blushing. Trent was still grinning, but now he was staring at the intruding authority figure rather than at Julianne.

“Hello, Dr. Fox,” he said.

“Answer me!” she said, stepping into the room. “What is this? Why aren’t you wearing your pants?”

“It’s a game,” Trent said. “Want to play?”

Julianne stared at him in disbelief.

“Trent Lee,” Dr. Fox said angrily, “you are in some serious trouble!”

“Now, Marilyn,” Trent said, “I think you should play with us. I bet you’ll have a real good time.”

Now everyone was staring at him.

“You have about two seconds to explain before I call in security,” Dr. Fox said in a dangerous tone.

“Okay,” Trent replied. “How’s this—Allison’s Ambrosia Alleviates Annoyances.”

Julianne, Harris, and Fuzzy stared at him. He’d gone totally nuts.

Then they looked at Dr. Fox.

She looked like she’d been tapped between the eyes with a mallet. Her mouth had dropped open, and she was blinking very slowly.

“What...” she managed, “you....”

“That’s right, Marilyn,” Trent said. “Now be a good girl and play our game with us.”

“How did you know that?” Dr. Fox asked in a stunned whisper. “You can’t know that.”

“Ah,” Trent replied, “but I do. That’s your relaxation trigger. Puts you in a much nicer frame of mind.”

Dr. Fox, slowly shaking her head, looked like she was coming back around. “Trent,” she said in a slow, serious voice, “just... stop. Look, whatever you’re doing, you can’t—”

“Ah, but I can,” Trent interrupted. “And I’m so glad you showed up. Julianne is a total babe, but it takes a real woman like you to know how to please a man.”

Anger flashed on Dr. Fox’s face again. “Trent, that’s going too far.”

“Actually,” he replied, “we’re just getting started. See, I’d heard about you. School counselor. Therapist.” He grinned. ”Hypnotherapist. And you wouldn’t be so unethical as to do anything to other people you wouldn’t do to yourself.”

Julianne was looking at Dr. Fox with worry. Dr. Fox was staring at Trent, but was growing paler.

“That’s right, Marilyn,” Trent said. “I got your tapes. All of them. I know just how to make you tick. Or cum.”

Dr. Fox glared at him. “Okay, this has gone far enough.” She took a step forward.

“Jennifer’s German Jelly Gels Generously,” Trent said, and Dr. Fox stopped dead. She moaned, her body making slow rolling motions, shoulders to waist and back, as she exhaled. Her head tilted slowly back and to the side.

“Trennnnt,” she said, “Nnnnooo...”

“Oh yes,” he replied. “That’s a good one for putting you in a docile frame of mind. Yes, I like that one.” His eyes glinted. “But I know them all, Marilyn. All the strings to make you dance.”

Julianne stared at Dr. Fox, erect but lolling bonelessly in front of Trent. Her head was now drifting slowly forward. Julianne could see her fighting to control herself as whatever program she had installed in her own mind relaxed her helplessly. Whatever program Trent had learned how to activate.

When Julianne glanced back at Trent, her eyes went wide. His boxers were on the floor.

His cock was totally erect, straining against the hand gripping it. On his face was a glow of utter triumph.

Julianne’s eyes fell back to his cock again.

Then she realized that Dr. Fox was saying something.

“What’s that, Marilyn?” Trent asked. “Speak up.”

“Can’t,” she managed, “can’t hypnotize me. Against my will.”

Trent chuckled. “That might be true,” he said. “But I told you, Marylin, I’ve got all of your tapes. Even your diary tapes.” Julianne tried not to stare at his cock as he gloated at the grown-up standing limp and helpless in front of him. “And you may try to fight me, but we both know that this is what you want.”

“Oh,” Dr. Fox replied in a small voice, “Oh. No.”

“Oh yes,” Trent replied, left hand gripping his cock tighter. A drop of fluid already glistened at the tip. “Yes. What you really want, Marilyn, is to submit. To be a kneeling, obedient slut. To suck the cock of your master. Well, little slut, your wet dream is about to come true.”

Marilyn’s head turned to look at Julianne. Her expression was such a mixture of despair and shame that Julianne couldn’t look at her, and looked at Fuzzy insted. Fuzzy was staring at Trent like Trent had sprouted both a halo and a forked tail at the same time.

“Don’t look at her,” Trent said, “look at me. Yes, that’s better. Look at me. I’m afraid our time is rather short, so much as I love seeing your shame, I’m going to have to cut to the chase. Listen very carefully, slut Marilyn.” Trent licked his lips. “Kelly’s Crimson Capers Cut Close. Sandy’s Certain Slumbers Shift Senses. Lacy’s Litmus Language Lowers Links. And Ellen’s Erotic Excesses Engender Empathy.”

Everyone stared at Dr. Fox.

Her head had dropped. Each successive phrase that tumbled in precise diction from Trent’s lips caused her whole body to tremble. Now she stood quietly before him, head bowed. The only sound was the heavy breathing of Fuzzy and Harris. And Julianne.

Slowly, Dr. Fox lifted her head, and looked at Trent.

“I am receptive to commands,” she said.

“You belong to me now,” he told her, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

“I belong to you,” she replied.

He smiled, his eyes flicking to Harris and Fuzzy. “You will do whatever I say,” he said more confidently.

“I will do whatever you say,” she replied without emotion.

“Anything,” he added.

“Anything,” she replied, looking unemotionally at him.

“This is so fucking cool,” he said. He looked down at his cock. “Oh, man.” Then he looked back at Dr. Fox.

“Get naked,” he said.

Quickly, Dr. Fox stripped out of her shirt and pants. Her C-cup bra joined them on the floor, followed by her lacy panties.

“Dude,” Fuzzy breathed, “she trims.”

Harris and Fuzzy had both drifted around in front of the naked woman, staring. Julianne didn’t even think to run, just stared at Dr. Fox, who stood at attention, completely naked, hands at her sides.

“That’s real pretty,” Trent said slowly, his eyes drawn below her waist. “Though I may have you shave it in the future.” He looked up, eyes catching on her breasts for a long moment, then looked at her eyes. They were fixed on him, blank, no challenge, no desire. Just waiting. He smiled again.

“Get on your knees and suck my dick,” he said.

Dr. Fox stepped forward and got down on her knees without hesitation. Trent let go of his cock and she took it in her hands, then leaned forward and kissed the tip. Her tongue wrapped around the head, licking, then she bobbed her head forward further and sucked it deep into her mouth. She began to suck, sliding back and forth in earnest.

“Oh,” Trent groaned, “oh shit. Oh God. That feels so goood...”

Julianne just stared as Dr. Fox sucked Trent’s cock. Harris had unzipped and had his dick out through his fly, and was stroking it. Fuzzy was still in his underwear, but he was staring and breathing hard.

“Wait,” Trent gasped, “wait... pull back... kiss the tip.. yeah... just the tip... now stroke me with your hands... oh yeah... just suck on the tip... like my cock was a bottle... yeah... kiss it... here it comes... oh God.... Marilyn, catch it all... don’t let it... unh.. spill....”

Then Trent’s hips spasmed, and Marilyn’s—Dr. Fox’s—stroking hands tightened and gripped to keep her lips sealed around the tip of his cock. He grunted, hands falling onto the top of her head, as he spurted into her mouth.

Fuzzy came too, darkening his underwear.

Julianne just stared, as Trent’s cock spat into Dr. Fox’s mouth.

Trent was coming down, now. Taking deep breaths. When he looked down, Marilyn was looking placidly up at him, lips still on his cockhead.

Cheeks full of cum.

Trent smiled. “Tilt your head back, and let me see.” She complied. “Yeah, that’s a nice image. Your favorite breakfast. Okay, swallow it.”

Marilyn’s head tilted forward, and she swallowed visibly. Twice. Then she looked up at him again.

“Wow.” Trent exhaled. “That was so fucking great. God, seeing you with a mouthful was almost enough to get me hard again.” He looked over at Harris. “You want a go?”

“Oh, man,” Harris replied unbelievingly. “Fuck.”

Trent chuckled. “Fuzzy, do you- wait, I see you’ve already had your go. You gotta work on that, man.”

Fuzzy just looked at him.

“S’alright.” Trent looked at Julianne, and grinned. “How about you? You want a turn down here?”

Julianne realized that she had just been standing there this whole time, like someone else was in charge of her body. She had been too distracted to get away. God, what an idiot!

“Um,” she said.

Trent grinned at her. “Hold on. Let me help.” He ran a hand along Marilyn’s hair. “Marilyn,” he said, “has Julianne ever come to you for help?”

Kneeling naked in front of Trent, her face inches from his half-erect cock, Marilyn’s head swiveled to consider Julianne. Her eyes were completely dispassionate.

“Yes,” she replied. Her lips were shiny.

“Did you hypnotize her?”

Julianne’s heart stopped.

“Yes,” the kneeling woman replied matter-of-factly.

“Great,” Trent said. “Put her back under, please.”

“Connie’s Conniving Classmate Collects Crustacea,” Marilyn said in a level voice.

A wave of blur washed over Julianne. “But,” she protested. “But...”

“Connie’s Conniving Classmate Collects Crustacea,” Marilyn repeated emotionlessly.

The blur was stronger, and this time it carried her away. As the clever part of her washed away, it said “But I don’t remember...”

Then she forgot about that.

She was waiting. Without impatience. Someone would tell her what to do. All she needed was to be told what to do, and for that she could wait forever.

She felt good about waiting.

Sometime later, she was told what to do, and felt good about doing it.

Julianne rubbed her eyes, and looked around. Her mouth tasted funny.

She was in Mr. Kubyschev’s classroom. Oh! The project! She must have been working on the project and fallen asleep! Quickly, she looked at the clock.

Eight-thirty! Her mom was going to be grumpy! She looked at her little maglev train. Everything seemed... yes, she remembered everything working. How odd that she fell asleep. But it didn’t worry her, for some reason. She knew that these things happened.

The hallway was empty as she locked the classroom door. No teacher thought twice about trusting Julianne with their keys. She checked that the door was locked, and headed for the exit. The winter sky was dark outside the windows which ran along the walls above the lockers. Her footsteps echoed on the concrete floor.

As she left, she didn’t even notice that someone had left the lights on in Ms. Paulman’s classroom.

Dr. Fox sat in her office. It was Saturday morning, and the sounds of Science Fair echoed in the corridors outside. She had already made the rounds and given praise to the deserving and the undeserving alike. Miss Clairmont’s little maglev train had been particularly noteworthy. Marilyn was sure that it would garner the top prize.

There was really no call for the school counselor to be in her office on a Saturday, but she had an appointment. Sure enough, at eleven exactly, there was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” she said.

Trent Lee walked in. He was grinning, like he usually was.

“Marilyn,” he said.

“Doctor Fox,” she sighed. “Call me Doctor Fox, please.”

He laughed. “After last night? Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t remember. I had you program yourself to forget, after I had you program pretty little Julianne to do the same. But I remember. I remember all sorts of things. All sorts of... codes...”

He grinned again. Then his grin faded, replaced by a puzzled look. “I remember... codes?” He looked at her. “What... I can’t...”

“It wouldn’t make much difference if you could,” she replied. “They were one-time only anyways.” He stared at her. “Well,” she added, smiling tiredly, “I hope you had a nice night, at any rate. Michael Makes Marvelous Marbled Michoacan.”

Trent’s face went blank.

“Sit down,” Dr. Fox said. Trent complied.

She rolled her head from side to side, uncricking her neck. “As I recall,” she said, “you did have a good time. A really good time.”

“Good time,” Trent replied blankly.

She laughed, and rose from behind her desk. “And little Julianne behaved just like I programmed her to. Hiding in that classroom. Not running. Not yelling. She takes programming almost as well as you do.”

“As well as I do,” Trent repeated.

Walking around the desk, it became apparent that Dr. Fox was wearing neither pants nor underwear. “Although I don’t recall,” she said, touching her slit with a light finger, “asking you to program me to shave myself. I think someone was getting a little out of hand.”

“Out of hand,” he echoed.

“But that’s okay,” she said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you can make it up to me. Tilt your head back a little... a little more... there. Just a sec while I stand... thus.”

“Okay, Trent,” she said.

“Lick.”

Marilyn sat back in her chair. She chuckled. When they had gotten those new padded chairs, the computer chairs, everyone wondered why the school counselor didn’t want one. Why she stuck to that uncomfortable old wooden thing. Looking at the stickiness between her legs, still seeping out of her, Marilyn thought how shocked the other faculty would be if they only knew.

She stretched her arms. Trent had gone home, new instructions locked in his obedient little mind until next week, when they would bloom into another fun scenario. She was a sub, true, but she could really only obey if she knew it was safe. When all the parameters were under control. Complete, rigid control.

Ah, right. She made a note in her daybook to have Harris Lawson and... what was Fuzzy’s real name? She’d have to look it up. Anyways, have them both in for some counseling. They’d already been to see her, of course, but all they were operating with now was a geas to tell no one about anything pertaining to her. But Fuzzy, once she had got him stiff again, had proven to have quite a nice dick... she could have some fun with him. Lord knows he wouldn’t mind.

Marilyn chuckled again. Teens. How long had it taken her to train Trent not to come at the sight of a nipple? It had paid off, sure, but sometimes she wished she were working at a college, with men who started with some self-control.

But then, if she had been anywhere else, she wouldn’t be the person she was today, would she? Wouldn’t have gotten The Call. That Call.

“Hello?”

“Doctor Marilyn Fox?”

“I am,” she’d replied. “who may I ask is calling?”

“The employer of one of your student’s parents. A rather dissatisfied parent. She was just telling me the other day that she caught her daughter smoking, and wished you’d take a harder line with the students.”

“Oh,” she’d said, “You’re talking about Josie Green. Look, I do what I can. But I’m just a school counselor. I can’t force these kids to do anything.”

“Ah,” came the voice, “but you’re wrong. Let me show you...”

Marilyn realized she was stroking herself. She’d just had two orgasms, first from Trent’s well-taught tongue and second bent over the desk with him hammering his teenage cock into her, and yet here she was diddling herself.

Of course, she couldn’t help it. Even thinking about Dr. Simon’s voice did it to her. She added another finger.

Maybe she’d have to have Miss Clairmont in to congratulate her.