The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Heather woke up in a sweat. The images of her dream faded from her mind as she sought them out, leaving behind only vague feelings of excitement, like she was anticipating something. She sat up, letting the soaked sheets fall away. She sighed.

I’ll never get back to sleep now. I’m too wired.

She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed. The covers finished falling off into a wet mess on the mattress as she leaned forward and pushed herself up.

Why does this keep happening?

Goose bumps popped up on her sweaty skin. She shivered and rubbed her arms while she walked to the closet to get something to cover up with.

Third time this week.

Heather sighed again and tossed on her terry cloth robe. She shivered as she padded out to the kitchen of her small apartment, flicking on the light in the short hallway on the way.

And all last week too...

Rounding the little open doorway, she stepped onto the cold tile.

Damn! Cold floor!

She danced on her toes to the throw rug and sighed in relief as she sank back onto her heels in the thick, warm fabric.

Mmm, better.

She stood still for a moment, trying to muster thoughts together in her still sleep-fogged mind. One finally coalesced out of the mist.

I’m thirsty.

Heather turned to the cupboard with the glasses and reached to open it. The handle had a thin, leggy spider walking along the edge.

“Eeek!” Heather jumped back off the rug, huddling away from the disgusting arachnid and ignoring the cold tile. She’d been jumped on more than once, so wanted as much distance as possible between herself and this monster. One hand sought out the flyswatter hanging on the wall by the entrance while the other stayed protectively in front of her. The spider scurried off the handle and around the cabinet to the crack between cupboard and the fridge.

“No no no!” Heather cried out. “I can’t get you back there!” She stuck the flyswatter into the crack and swished it around while standing as far back as she could. The spider didn’t come out. She poked around more before giving up. Heather sighed. “Oh well.” She set the swatter on the counter.

She gingerly reached up to the now somewhat safe cabinet door, hoping desperately that she wouldn’t put her hand through a sticky web. She used one finger to pull the door open. The glasses inside didn’t appear to hide any icky arachnids, but not being sure she hastily pulled out a plastic cup with one finger and let it drop on the counter. It bounced around on the hard tile and leaped off onto the floor. She cautiously bent to pick it up, watching the cabinet and fridge. She felt a little tickle on the back of her leg.

“Aaahhh! No no no get off get off!” She started dancing on one leg while brushing at the back of the other. The attacker fell off onto the floor and rushed under the fridge. She frantically rubbed the spot where it had been on her, trying to wipe off any spider cooties. Her fingers brushed over a little welt. “Dammit!” She pulled her hand away before she started scratching.

Damn spiders. Why do I have so many in the apartment now? I’ll have to call the landlord.

The glass had fallen underneath the cupboard door below the counter. She decided it was best not to risk another assault by putting her face that near the bottom of the fridge, so she reached for another glass. This time she made sure to catch the plastic cup before it hit the counter. She slid over to the sink, eyes scanning the floor, and poured herself a full glass of water. She drank it all without stopping for a breath.

So thirsty. Worked up quite a sweat dreaming.

She started to pour herself another, but that wasn’t going to work. She glared at the fridge, knowing she needed a little something to help her calm down now and sleep but not wanting to face the horrible little monster under there.

I have to be strong.

She leaned over from where she was standing and pulled the refrigerator door open. Stretching further, she pulled out with her fingertips a bottle of Fat Tire from behind some lettuce carelessly thrown on the bottom shelf. She let the door close on its own as she leaned away from the danger zone and jerked off the top with her new bottle opener. The cap bounced around on the counter as she walked out to the living room. She scanned for tiny invaders as she went, knowing there might be a base of operations outside the kitchen by now. The front room looked clear. There wasn’t much to hide under, just a two chairs, a desk and a T.V. stand. It was supposed to be a living room/dining room but wasn’t really large enough for anything more.

Well, now that I’m up, I might as well write a little.

She checked under the desk before she sat down at her computer and switched it on. Her hand went unbidden to scratch at the bite while the computer booted up. The familiar Windows XP screens passed by and stopped with her login choices. Recently she’d added a new one, “FacingFear”. It had a little tarantula icon. She clicked on the picture. It was the one she’d been writing under since the dreams started happening. She noticed she was scratching the swelling bite again.

Was that before or after the spiders invaded?

Either way, before the spiders or the dreams, she hadn’t used the computer for much of anything beyond some surfing and research. Work had her generally burned out on staring at a monitor by the time she got home. Now she wrote nearly every night.

A big picture of a hairy, fat, disgusting tarantula came up as the background.

Face your fears.

She laughed at herself. Her hypnotherapist had told her to face her fears, and she’d put up the background image the same evening. She took a swig from the bottle as she double-clicked on Word. Up popped an empty document. She started typing.

“Wednesday, Oct. 23rd.”

Um, what time is it?

She checked the clock on the taskbar.

“03:23”

She tapped her fingers lightly on the keyboard, trying to think of what to write. Her mind resolutely stayed blank, still trying to overcome the trauma of the attack in the kitchen. She shuddered, but an idea started to form. She took another swig.

“I faced my fears again. I woke up after another exciting dream, sweating like a pig and trying to calm down.”

She thought about that sentence and decided she didn’t like it.

[Ctrl-A] [Delete]

The blank page lit up her face in the shaded room. She minimized the document and looked at the spider image. The eyes seemed to stare back at her. A little chill ran up her spine, but she fought it down.

I’m strong now. That’s why I write, so I can be strong, so I can face my fears.

Her hypnotherapist had mentioned that writing her fears down would help her work through them.

I’m so glad that Marianne recommended the doctor. I’ve made so much progress.

Heather remembered back to the day Marianne had brought it up. She’d been so insistent that hypnotherapy would help Heather deal with her alcoholic father and catholic upbringing. She’d handed over a business card and smiled insistently. Heather took it and promised to call, never really intending to. A month later, after Fred broke up with her saying she was just too psychotic, she decided to call.

Now, she was so happy she had. Her life was so much better now, and she was getting stronger everyday. Her friends were so shocked the other night when she’d actually had a beer with them. They were even more shocked with her outfit. And she never would’ve been able to reach for the swatter before. She would’ve run out of the room screaming... She smiled at herself and brought Word back up on her screen. Her fingers tapped on the keyboard again, not pressing any keys. The cursor blinked patiently.

Write what?

The blank screen matched her total blank on ideas. She looked up at the new digital camera sitting on top of her monitor, hoping maybe her new purchase would be her muse.

Still can’t believe I bought that.

The thought of turning it on and broadcasting the pictures out to the net flew briefly through her head, but she wasn’t ready for anything like that yet. Not in just her robe with nothing on underneath. Her mother still had a strong grip on her psyche, but it was loosening. Slowly. She looked back at the blank page.

It’s past three, I can’t sleep and I’ve got writers block. Great.

She leaned forward onto her elbow and sighed, cradling her chin in one hand while the other clicked the mouse to minimize Word again. She stared at the screen.

What am I doing here? I should be sleeping.

The spider on the screen stared back at her. The facets of the eyes almost seemed to shift and swirl. She leaned in a little closer.

Sleeping. Dreaming.

A little light in the center of the tarantula’s eyes caught her attention. Her body leaned forward a little more.

Dreams. Writing.

Her nose almost touched the monitor. She blinked a few times and sat back as the steam from her breath faded from the screen.

Dreams? Writing? That’s it!

Her fingers started on the keyboard immediately. All this writing had helped make her a good typist. She didn’t need to look at the keys anymore, and hardly even needed to think about what she was typing. It just flowed out of her, something about overcoming her fears and how exciting it was. Her mind wandered a bit when she wrote about the anticipation building in her, knowing that she would soon be leaving behind her phobias and opening formerly impenetrable walls constructed in her mind throughout her childhood. It was going to be wonderful to finally live in peace and have a real relationship.

After only a few minutes, she was done. She looked at the words she wrote, but she didn’t feel the need to proofread it. It was just for her and her therapy.

Oh, and the hypnotherapist. I’m supposed to send it.

She opened her email.

The doctor needs to make sure I’m still making progress.

She laughed a little and attached the document in an email addressed to the hypnotherapist with “Heather’s Progress Report” written in the subject line.

[Ctrl-Enter]

Heather felt a little tingle of excitement run through her. She looked at the monitor and started rocking in the chair. The tarantula’s eyes stared back at her.

Hmm... I’m not quite ready to sleep yet.

She clicked [Start], [Turn Off Computer], [Shut Down] and walked back into the kitchen carrying her beer. Writing had calmed her down, so she didn’t worry about the lurking danger under the fridge. She finished her beverage in one gulp and tossed the bottle in the recycling bin. The spider didn’t come out. She wasn’t sure she’d be afraid of it anyways.

I’m definitely advancing.

She smiled at the little excited tingle that brought on as she flicked off the hallway light and padded back to the bedroom in the dark. There was nothing between her and the bed now.

I deserve a reward for the leap forward I’ve made.

She slipped out of the robe, leaving it crumpled on the floor, and lay down in bed next to the mess of covers she’d left. They were still a little damp and cooling rapidly.

No matter. I’ll heat them up soon enough.

She imagined how excited her hypnotherapist would be tomorrow, reading the email with all of the good news about Heather’s advances. A little tingle started in her pussy as she thought about it.

I’m such a good patient. Making such progress.

She ran her fingers gently down her belly to dance around her crotch.

The doctor will read it tomorrow...

One finger started twirling around her clit while the others teased around the outside of her folds.

And find out how much progress I’m making at overcoming my fear of spiders...

twirl twirl

“Ooohhh.” She pulled her legs up, bent at the knee, and spread them out.

and of alcohol...

Another finger joined the first while her other hand reached down and thrust a few fingers deep inside her wet pussy.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm”

and being exposed in front of others...

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

“Ah ah ah ah”

and losing my will...

Heather felt the intense heat building quickly.

“Oh god, oh god, ah ah ah”

How I’m opening up...

She turned her hips up to give herself easier access.

“Ooooooohhhhh”

and letting someone in...

Her hands twirled and pumped faster as the molten pleasure threatened to explode.

“Oh oh oh”

to take control...

“Aaaauuuuggghhh!”

Heather thrust her hips in the air as she tensed against the searing orgasm that burst from her crotch and melted her mind.