The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Femdom Mind Control Flash Fiction

by S.B.

Brown Eyes

“You’re kidding me, right?” Homer laid down his book and looked at his fellow student, disbelief plastered in every cell of his body, and not just his cleanly-shaved face.

“No, why would I be?” Vanessa retorted, mimicking his gesture. On the tables surrounding them, many other men and women stopped what they were doing to watch the scene go down. Their ‘discussions’ were already the stuff of legends at the Campus’ Library and having front seats for the next one a boon they could no longer live without.

“Why the fuck do you love brown so much?”

“Because it’s a lovely color, silly.”

“No. It’s drab, dreary, and dull. That’s all it knows how to be.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a natural color that evokes a sense of strength and reliability. It’s often seen as solid, much like the earth, and it’s also associated with resilience, dependability, security, and safety, all positive traits you love about me so much.”

“It’s the color of poop!” Homer laughed, the old Mr. Hankey jingle stuck on his mind despite Christmas still being three months away.

“My eyes are brown!” Vanessa slammed the table. “Are you saying they’re poop, too?”

“Hmmm… no, ” he mumbled fully aware that he had just awakened the tiger one more time.

“It certainly feels like it. Comparing my soft, beautiful, and entrancing eyes to poop is probably the worst thing you ever said to me! How can they be that when the only thing you feel when staring into them is permanent bliss? Unless you’re into coprophilia, that is!”

“Coprowhat now?”

“Ah, not only you have bizarre tastes, but you also don’t know what they mean. Coprophilia is the same as scat, Homer, the fetish that involves deriving sexual arousal and pleasure from feces! Congratulations, you just learned something new!”

“You’re really a mouthful today, aren’t you? And no, I don’t get aroused on account of shit… Ewwww!” He frowned.

“But you get aroused when you look into my brown eyes so if my brown eyes remind you of poop then it stands to reason that you get aroused when you think of poop. It’s simple logic, not one you can deny. I get it. It’s frustrating and even god-damned humiliating to have such a secret fetish exposed like this but you’re the one that started it when you made fun of brown. You were trying to be funny but now the joke is all on you. Ha-Ha, you lose, horny boy.”

“Could you please stop now?” He mumbled, all eyes on him waiting to see how he would react this time.

“Sure, I’m glad to continue if that’s what you really want…” Vanessa smirked, the scales already tipped in her favor with less than two minutes elapsed.

“That’s not what I said!” He fumed. “God, how are you able to twist my words like that?”

Vanessa rose from her seat and went for the coup de grâce. “I have mesmerizing eyes you can’t stop yourself from falling into. The more I leave you unhinged with the things I say, the quicker you fall. Since you’re already falling, you will continue to fall even if I stop talking. In fact, the exact moment my words reach their natural conclusion, you will be so deeply entranced by my eyes you will not think twice about being glued to your seat, unable to do anything of note without my permission. Silence will be your cue. When I speak again, you’ll accept all my suggestions without hesitation. It’s happening. It’s already happened. You’re only reliving the moment in your own mind’s eye. Deeper now, embrace the silence, and obey.”

For the nth consecutive time, Homer’s thoughts dissolved. At first, he hated the public display but everyone else loved it to the point of paying big bucks to watch his inevitable struggle play on a loop. More tuition money was always a good thing. Keeping her purse stuffed even better.

“Homer, how do you feel about buying a brown suit for me right now?” She queried. “I would love to see you in one.”

“If that’s what you want, I want it, too.” He acquiesced.

“Good answer. Collect the tips on your way out and… you don’t really need to be wearing anything when you go inside the store, do you?”

“No, Mistress.”

Five minutes later, both hands scooping a small fortune in dollars, he entered the Campus’ only clothing store and asked for the brownest of brown suits to make her happy. It reminded him of poop, but it was his favorite color anyway.