The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Danny just hated Physics. It was so boring! Of course, the fact that he wasn’t very good at Math had something to do with it. He always had trouble making out those long equations, let alone calculating a lever like Ms. Johnson wanted them to. But it was mandatory for him to pass this course or else... So, every Thursday, he’d let himself fall on his seat and wait for Ms. Johnson to arrive. Everybody agreed she had a quite nice figure, and several boys were already gaping at the door of the classroom, not wanting to miss her entrance. Danny thought she had a so-so face, almost ugly, with her curvy nose and long cheekbones that made her look a bit like Pluto the dog. Still, she was tall and finely curved, even if she always used long, loose pants and blouses buttoned up to her neck. Let’s say if you were into legs, you’d like to see her walk, and for Danny there was a plus: she always used open-toed sandals, the only license she seemed to take in her conservative attire. Today she was wearing a black suit, made of some opaque fabric, and matching black sandals with medium heels and only one, not-too-thick leather strap almost covering her nice, long toes. The boys didn’t know they were being so obvious following her walk to the front desk, but girls giggled behind them, secretly mocking them for falling so easily for a svelte, long-legged teacher, even if her face was quite ordinary. Ms. Johnson was in her late twenties and seemed to adopt this style of clothing to further separate from the giggling girls, who always were trying to dazzle her male colleagues with multi-colored leggings, shiny shirts and things like rainbows painted on her nails. By dressing conservative and monochrome, Ms. Johnson inspired them respect, and she needed every bit of that to control a classroom of bubbly late teenagers.

Ms. Johnson sat on the edge of her desk and announced the theme of today’s class: more lever calculations. Danny sighed, opening his notebook, and made a mental note of not getting distracted. The matter was a bore. The teacher just sat there, a little bit higher than her alumni, and droned on and on with her lesson, without any smiles or breaks; the most she would do was balance one of her legs back and forth, thoughtlessly, while repeating her Physics mantra-like lesson. Soon enough, the class was quiet and some people were making an effort not to nod off. Danny, like several other boys, tended to fix his gaze on the teacher’s foot as soon as she, absent minded, crossed her legs and began to balance the one on top back and forth, sometimes flapping the loose insole of her sandal against her bare, invisible sole, to save it from falling off. Danny was always hoping that the would lose control of her shoe and be forced to bent down to pick it up, which at least would give him an opportunity to watch her foot bare, maybe even that surely delicious sole, before she put the shoe back on her slender, elegant foot. He knew he had had a foot fetish for a long time now. Maybe since that time his family went to visit his aunt and he found his female cousin laying in her backyard, face down, reading while she carelessly moved her legs in the air. She was a couple of years older than him and you could tell; she had the figure of a full-formed woman already, but she wasn’t really sure of what she could already provoke in men, let alone silly horny boys like Danny. He just stood there, mouth agape, ogling her bare feet which kept flexing in the air, until she raised her gaze from the book and caught him staring. She had laughed so loud! He just felt his face blushing to a deep shade of red. Anyway, Danny knew right then and there that he had a foot fetish.

Suddenly, Ms. Johnson’s foot stopped and Danny came out of his daydream, noticing the teacher had stopped talking. He raised his gaze and found her staring directly at him. Gosh! Most probably Ms. Johnson was asking a question, what the hell would that be? And she had picked him! Danny’s face was aghast and the girls around him began to giggle. Oh heck, I don’t know what to say. What was the question?

“I guess I caught you in another place, Daniel” Ms. Johnson commented, not letting any smile break her serious, detached expression. Ashamed, Danny’s head bent down, only to find what seemed the beginning of an erection growing inside his trousers. He prayed for she not to summon him to the front, because he didn’t know how he could walk hiding that from the rest of the class.

“Maybe another time” Ms. Johnson concluded, breaking the awkward silence Danny’s incompetence had created. “What about you, Gina?”

Somewhere behind Danny, a girl was now answering. Something about the damn lever. No way he could have followed Ms. Johnson’s class, the subject was just so boring. The girl had offered the right answer and Ms. Johnson, relieved, began moving her foot again. Two seconds later, Danny’s thoughts had returned to nowhereland.

When the class finished, as Danny was about to leave among a whirl of hurried students, he heard Ms. Johnson’s voice behind him: “Can you stay for a minute, Daniel. I need to talk with you”. Fuck, now what. It was obvious he would get chastised for ignoring her class. Danny turned around and retraced his steps. Boys and girls around him were leaving in a blur, this was their last class of the day. Ms. Johnson was still sitting atop her table, the pant-clad legs bent around it in different directions, her hands crossed and gripping the angle of her desk. She motioned to another desk in front of her, and Danny went to sit. They waited for a minute until the classroom was empty; the last girl leaving, following a hand sign by the teacher, closed the door. Now they were in complete silence.

“I’m quite worried about you, Danny. We’re in the middle of the semester and you don’t seem to get into the subject”.

Danny forced himself to avoid looking at Ms. Johnson’s feet and raised his gaze in the direction of her face. This forced him to tilt his neck back: they were sitting much closer to each other now, and the difference in height was all the more evident. Ms. Johnson made no effort to compensate for this, but she was offering him a slight smile.

“What is it? You seem distracted”. Danny found himself nodding, trying to think of something to say for the next, unavoidable question.

“Is there any problem?” she insisted. “Your family, maybe?”

He pondered on this for a second, but decided it was best not to involve his parents into some stupid lie that could be confronted with a single phone call.

“No, everything’s OK really”.

“Everything is NOT OK, Danny, I can see that. You never talk in class. Most of the time you’re gazing at the floor. You don’t take any notes. You daydream. Is Physics so boring to you? Or is it just me teaching it?”

He was still thinking of what to say next, when her last phrase took him by surprise.

“No, you’re not boring! I mean...” He fell silent. Of course she was.

“I’m not boring. OK. So it must be the Physics”. With this, Ms. Johnson shifted in her seat, she was doing something with her legs. Out of the corner of his eye, Danny noticed she was crossing them again. Oh God, it would be so nice to gaze at the contours of those legs from this close, but that would be really disrespectful! He knew it.

He tried to focus on Ms. Johnson’s face. Her features weren’t ugly really, just a bit unconventional in terms of beauty; and she was still young. Up close, she didn’t really look that many years older than himself. And she had black, big pond eyes who were now fixed on his. Maybe if she peeled her eyebrows a bit... Don’t hang on everything you look at, just think of something to say! he ordered himself.

“Well yes, Physics is kinda boring. I’m sorry”. Out of shame, his head went down mechanically and Danny found himself staring at Ms. Johnson’s feet yet again. The leg on top was now bouncing slightly, and her sandal began to dance around her foot. Now, in the silence of the place, he could hear a soft tap every time it touched her sole.

“No problem with that” Ms. Johnson said calmly. “Really. Everybody has their favorite and less favorite subject. No harm in recognizing it. I was afraid my manners were being distracting to you on some way...”

He raised his head again to find Ms. Johnson openly smiling at him. She had a cute smile, really: she just never showed it during class. It seemed to warm her features, that face that when serious could look rather severe, even dominant. Danny was curious at what his teacher was suggesting.

“Some people say I have a boring voice, for instance. What do you think?” Danny’s teacher was still on the subject of her behavior towards her students, towards him. How come now they were talking one to one, like she was asking him for advice? He was only a student. But on the whole, the situation was fun; seemed like now he could influence his teacher by what he would say. He pondered on it: Ms. Johnson’s voice was soft and warm, low-toned, and it was true that she could sound monotonous when she droned on and on about things like thermodynamics. But then again, it was a nice voice to hear out of that context, like now that they were talking frankly.

“I’d say you have a nice voice, Ms. Johnson” he said slowly, hoping he wasn’t crossing any particular line between student and teacher. Not that he didn’t dream of that.

“Oh, call me Monica” she countered, and now Danny was hyperventilating. Suddenly, her smile was broad and her leg was moving much more.

“I mean, I like your voice, Ms... Monica. It’s just the Physics part really”. Five minutes earlier, he would never have guessed he’d be confessing this to his teacher. But Ms. Johnson, that is Monica, was being so sweet.

“Well, somehow the physics may be involved too” she said. “Like, I notice in class you never gaze straight at me; you tend to look at my feet. Am I being too adamant? Don’t have fear of me please”.

“No, no...” Danny rushed to clarify. “Not at all... I...”

“You say you like my voice and you try to focus on the subject of Physics, but you still tend to look down when I’m talking, even now. Is it because of this?” She signaled down, which gave Danny permission to look below her waist. She seemed to be nervous, moving her foot back and forth just inches from Danny’s knee. Ms. Johnson’s foot was really beautiful, nicely arched, and her sandal, with no anklet, made no intention to hide this as it flapped against her sole, again and again. What he should be looking at now?

“I tend to move my leg when I’m talking, I know it can be distracting. I know it is... because my boyfriend told me so”. He looked up again, Ms. Johnson... err, Monica, was now blinking at him! So she had a boyfriend.

She lowered her voice and bent down so their faces were closer. “It’s because he has a foot fetish”. She laughed. “Do you have a foot fetish too?”

Wait, how come this subject was now on the air? What had he done? He felt his cheeks beginning to blush.

“Don’t worry Daniel, it’s no problem for me if you really like looking at feet. Many men do. It’s one of the most common fetishes adult people have. I guess if you don’t dislike me, and still you are gazing down, it must be that you like looking at my feet”.

“I..” he began, but her ever moving foot was distracting him, and now he didn’t really know what to say. Then, Ms. Johnson did something even more unusual: she extended one of her hands and caressed Danny on the cheek!

“Don’t worry Danny, there’s nothing here to be worried. It’s perfectly normal. I’m a woman and I know that boys your age like to look at us. I always dress conservative to avoid distracting my boy students. But I don’t cover my feet enough, I guess. See, I have to walk a lot from class to class, you know, and I like to keep them fresh. So you like looking at my feet? C’mon, don’t deny it. Look at them now”.

He gazed down at her foot, which was still slapping her sandal in a rhythmic movement that soon enough began entrancing him, it was so... divine. The insole would flap against her sole, flap, flap, flap. The rhythm didn’t change, it was so predictable and monotonous. So delectable, to watch her foot slap the black, shiny leather sandal to a beat.

“It’s perfectly normal to look at them” Ms. Johnson was murmuring. “I know they’re cute. Men have told me so. When I talk in class, I’m so focused on the subject at hand, that I start tapping my foot without even realizing it. It’s like a compensation my body makes for thinking so hard in my words, what I’m about to say, what you are listening when I talk, even if your gaze is focused on my foot”. Ms. Johnson’s foot dangling was now pretty intense. “Part of you is looking at my foot moving back and forth. Back and forth. And another part of you is listening to my words. That part is the unconscious, and it can listen and learn from what I say even if your conscious mind is busy gazing at my feet. So you see, Danny, you can focus on my foot and on my words at the same time”. She paused to let that sink in. “Looking at my foot closer, focusing deeper. My foot moving back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Tell me Danny, what are you focused on right now?”

“Foot moving back and forth” Danny replied without thinking. He was completely absorbed by the rhythmic movement of Ms. Johnson’s foot, that beat the sandal was creating when flapping against her divine, invisible sole.

“And what else?” Monica was happy to see that Danny didn’t try any more to look at her when asked something; his gaze was fixed on the hypnotic movement of her foot.

“Your words” he added, his voice failing. Danny’s mouth was now mid-open, he was so fascinated he had forgotten to close it, and now it wasn’t wet enough for his voice to sound loud enough. But he didn’t seem aware of this. Monica, on the other hand, was picking all the signs that told her of Danny’s enchantment.

“It’s so easy to look at my foot going back and forth, back and forth, isn’t it Danny?”

“Yess”.

“You really love to look at my feet in class, don’t you?”

“Yeah”.

“It’s perfectly normal, you see, it’s so easy to get entangled in the vision of my foot going back and forth, so entrancing”. Ms. Johnson’s voice had now returned to the monotone she used on her class. “Focusing on my foot deeper and deeper. While your mind is waiting for my words to tell you what to do. Nothing else to worry about now. You can focus on my foot now, waiting for my words now”.

Danny sat there silently, lost in Monica’s foot pendulum. She had mastered the art of dangling off her sandals years ago, and was now practicing it with all her boyfriends. Once she had learned it, she could never lose her sandal, no matter how hard she dangled it. Now, just for Danny’s pleasure, she was moving her foot in a broad, strong motion, so the sandal would seem to fly off, only to flap back against her sole even more. The rhythmic noise it produced was hypnotic, and she knew it. Before taking on hard science, she had toyed with Psychology. She left after just two years, but not before she had been introduced to the methods of clinical hypnosis, which she had continued to study afterwards. She knew how to use this to get anybody into focusing on her, like she was doing now with Danny. Now, as she was reaching the last part of her induction, her voice was turning even slower, with a kind of singysongy, almost childlike rhythm.

“In a moment, Danny, I’m gonna count to three, and when I do reach three, you’ll find yourself so tired, so hard to focus even as you want to watch my foot more and more. You’ll feel your eyelids getting heavy, and closing down. You’ll still be able to see my foot in your mind’s eye. And you will still listen to my words. You will listen only to my words. Now you’re falling into a deep hypnotic trance. In one... eyelids feeling heavier and heavier... two... no reason to resist the hypnotic pull of my foot and my words... getting sleepier and sleepier, just about to fall into deep hypnosis now... with THREE”.

Danny’s eyes closed shut and he felt his head moving towards his chest like it suddenly weighed a ton. He could still listen to Ms. Johnson, and somehow he knew there was no way he could not follow her suggestions. He was feeling dizzy and heavy, still watching her foot flapping her leather sandal, in his mind’s eye, just like she had said. She seemed to know everything. She was talking to him now, but only part of him was listening. He was too focused on the sound of Ms. Johnson’s sandal still flapping against her sole; it was like her sole was his mind, all warm and soft and wrinkly, and it was being molded into another, more compliable form by the beat of her sandal against it, molding it, the beat of her words now entering his mind without barriers.

“Now I’m gonna make you some questions, Danny. You will answer them with the truth. You like to tell me the truth. Do you understand?”

“Yess”.

“Tell me Danny, do you like gazing at my feet in class?” Monica cooed.

“Oh yeah”. It was his unconscious mind talking now.

“Good. Do you like them?”

“Yes”.

“In what way?”

“Mmmm... They make me horny”.

“Oh really Danny? How nice. Were they making you horny today, during class?”

“Yeah”.

“Are you feeling horny now?”

“Yeah, a bit”.

“I see”. In fact, Monica was gazing at Danny’s groin, where there seemed to be some kind of lump. “And this happens a lot?”

“Every time you teach class”.

“Poor thing. No way you could pay attention, you’re so focused on my feet. What do you do afterwards, when class ends?”

“I go to the bathroom and whack off”.

“Thinking about my feet?".

“Yeah”.

“Do you fantasize often about my feet?”

“Oh yeah”.

“Tell me your fantasy”.

“You get atop my desk and balance your feet upon me. Your sandal falls off and I pick it up. When I’m about to put it back on your foot, you move it against my face and rub, making me inhale”.

“Wow, how fun. Do you think my feet have a nice aroma?”

“Yeah. They must have the best smell in the world”. On hearing this, Ms. Johnson let out a hearty laugh. Danny didn’t react to this. By now, the noticeable lump at his groin was pointing straight to the ceiling. He was feeling so horny. And so hypnotized.

“What else would you like to happen?”

“You put your sole in my groin and rub”.

“I see. Do you think that would make you come?”

“Mmm-hmmm”.

“I’m gonna confess you something, Danny: you’re so right. I can do that, and so much more. My feet are wonderful. My feet are powerful. There’s no way you can resist them. In fact, just fantasizing about my feet makes you feel so good. So horny. So weak. Compliant. Waiting just to follow all my instructions. When we leave here, you’ll go to the bathroom and whack it off, like you always do. And it will feel so good. But this time, when you come, you’ll know that in your mind, you belong to me now. There’s nothing you can do about it now. And you will feel so good, knowing that I own you, as I own your mind, as I own your cock”.

Danny, still asleep, shifted in his seat. His hard-on was making him uncomfortable, he needed to whack it off. But he had to wait.

“That will happen in a few moments, when I wake you up. But first, you must know that from now on, when I’m teaching class, there will be no need for you to take notes. Because when your gaze fixes on my feet, your mind will fall easily, even with your eyes open, in this same quiet place of relaxation you are now. Your conscious mind will gaze at my feet and look at all the things they do, how they move back and forth, while your unconscious mind gets so open to my words, printing every word I say into your memory. When you get home, you’ll open your notebook and write it all down by memory, and this way you won’t lose anything, and you will understand it easier. Because you won’t be torn between listening to me and looking at my feet. From now on, a part of you can focus on my feet and another part of you can focus on my words, listening to everything I say and sticking it deep into your mind. When the class ends, everything will be back to normal and you’ll have a beautiful image of my feet to whack off all that tension. It will be so easy. You will jerk off thinking about my feet, while my lessons get deeper and deeper into your mind. There are no secrets of Physics for you now. You’ll remember every one of my words and you will answer my questions quickly and correctly. That part of your mind will be like a robot, following all my instructions, absorbing my lessons, while the other part dreams about my feet, about me, about how I’m so beautiful and so superior to you, and you are so weak-minded and inferior. You love looking at my feet. You love to be owned by my feet. You deserve to be at my feet. You know that. You deserve to be at my feet. Say it aloud now”.

“I deserve to be at your feet”.

“Good. Now repeat”.

“I deserve to be at your feet”.

“Feel those words getting deep into your mind now. In a minute I’m going to wake you up and you’ll feel easy and content, free of any worries. You won’t remember all these things I put into your unconscious mind. Your conscious mind won’t remember anything since I made you look at my feet. You’ll think we’ve just had a nice easy conversation. You’ll also want to leave me alone quickly, so you can go somewhere to whack it off”. Danny’s cock was pointing straight up now, imprisoned by his jean pants, and he was in agony. He would do anything, as long as she liberated him.

“In fact, you’ll see that today when you get home you will be able to remember parts of my class and write them down”. She had seen how Danny’s notebook kept empty during class, while he ogled her peds moving back and forth below her desk. “And from next Thursday’s on, you will remember everything you hear in class while you look at my feet. It will be so easy for you to do it”.

Danny, eyes still closed, smiled.

“Now, the next time you are alone in your house, with no one getting in to disturb you, you will think of me and my feet. You will fantasize about my feet molding your mind, making you fall into deep hypnosis again. You will call me at Skype and say: ‘I deserve to be at your feet’. I then will take care of you. Do you understand?”

“Yeah” a smiling Danny whispered, feeling even hornier.

“Goood. My Skype address is @FeetQueenMonica. You will find me there. Now I will wake you up, feeling more and more refreshed, still horny, wanting to go whack it off. So easy. Nothing to worry here. We just had a little chat and you had the opportunity to look at my feet up close. So good. So beautiful. You can’t get them out of your mind. You know you feel weak before them. Now feeling that you’re coming up from this deep hypnotic trance, that you will enter again anytime you look at my feet, even with your eyes open. I will count up to five and you will wake up, ready to go and whack it off. Coming up on one... feeling a bit more alert... two... hearing other sounds around you, getting closer... three... moving your fingers and toes, curling up... four... almost there now, ready to feel everything again, awake and refreshed... and FIVE.

Danny opened his eyes and yawned. Ms. Johnson’s foot was now still. He looked up and she smiled warmly at him. “Do you feel alright? Did you understand everything, sweetie?”

Danny smiled back, feeling peaceful and refreshed. “Yeah” he said mechanically, not really knowing what he meant to say. He felt a stirring in his groin and out of habit, put his notebook on top of it, and almost jolted. His cock was so hard! But Ms. Johnson didn’t seem to notice, looking at him with those big dead eyes. He smiled again and said: “Well, I’ve got to get going then”.

“Sure you have” she said, her smile all complicity. What was that for? Never mind, Danny had a task to do and didn’t want to be disturbed. “Well bye then”. As he was getting up he felt one of his legs half asleep, like you do when you are sitting motionless for a long time. His teacher had to grab his arm to help keep him in balance.

“You OK?” Monica’s smile fainted, maybe she had let her control fall too strongly on the poor kid.

“Oh yeah” he said lightly, trying to avoid her attention. One of his legs was practically dragging behind him as he walked, but in two or three steps it recovered its full movement. In two seconds, ashamed, he reached the door and was gone, while Monica covered her laughs with a hand on her mouth.

The school was empty and pretty dark now. Danny had no problem getting into the quiet bathroom. At one of the stalls, desperate, he opened his trousers and tried to grab his now hyper-sensitive dick. But he was feeling so horny, so wanting to free himself, to discharge, that as soon as it felt the air brushing against it, his hard member exploded in all directions, making him almost bent over, while unconsciously chanting: “I deserve to be at your feet. I deserve to be at your feet. I deserve to be at your feet!".

Two days later, on a lazy Saturday afternoon, Danny was trembling with anticipation. He had rejected the invitation to spend the day with his aunt and the bratty cousin who now flaunted her feet at him at any opportunity. His mother was upset that he wouldn’t go, but Dad stood out for him: “he just doesn’t want to, let it go” he said to his wife. The rest of the family was away and Danny planned to put this moment of intimacy to good use. He had spent the last two nights fantasizing about Ms. Johnson and masturbating like a monkey; he didn’t know exactly what had happened after class, but surely he had a more intimate relationship with her now, she had given him her Skype contact. The fact that it read @FeetQueenMonica made it all the more exhilarating. Danny didn’t find that strange at all; he was too enrolled in his own amusement over what had happened.

After waiting for a full hour just in case his sister had forgot something and the family made an impromptu entrance, Danny locked all doors and put down the blinds. He hesitated a little, but then he decided his white T-shirt and jean pants were acceptably clean and after all, she would be looking at him on a screen, so dirt wouldn’t really be noticed. He locked the bedroom door and sat on his desk. His notebook was already on, waiting. He opened Skype and made the call.

At her home, Monica was just idling out, watching television in her sofa with her index finger flipping channels nonstop. She checked her notebook screen and realized it was Daniel, the last addition to her collection of “sloppy students”. She was waiting for the call, she knew it would happen sometime during the weekend. She quickly turned off the TV, sat upright on the couch and, after clicking some buttons on her notebook, took the call.

Danny was transfixed: his Physics teacher was there, and she didn’t even care for making a faux salute for him! From the first second, all he could see was Ms. Johnson’s feet on the same sandals she had worn last time. They were in close-up: she seemed to have a camera fixed beneath her desk. Her legs were crossed and, for the first time, bare: they were beautiful and slender in the way tall people used to have them. She seemed to be wearing a miniskirt, but the low angle made difficult to distinguish it. While he was there, mouth open, thinking of what he could say, he heard her voice: “Well hi Danny. It seems you like what you see”. Out of the classroom and into her microphone, the teacher’s voice sounded velvety, even seducing. Danny guessed she was smiling.

“Oh yes Ms. Johnson... I like it very much” he hurried up to respond.

“Call me Monica here, we’re not in class anymore” she corrected. “This is a different place, for a different kind of communication between us... You know that in here, you can watch my feet all that you like. You’ll be still hearing my words, my suggestions, and acting upon them. How are you feeling?”

“Good... Warm” he confessed. The combination of that foot moving back and forth once again, dangling her leather shoe, and her sweet voice whispering in his ears, was making Danny really docile. He was feeling exactly like in that reunion after class, when his teacher discovered his obsession.

“Sure you do. You’re getting used to see me like this. You’re getting used to being at my feet. It makes you feel so warm and easy, and compliant, ready to follow my words, my instructions. Feel your mind getting dizzy, your will submitting to me, your thoughts being replaced by my thoughts... Deeper and deeper, watching my foot moving back and forth, into a deep sweet state of hypnosis”.

Monica could see Danny’s eyes half-closed now, his head bobbing. He didn’t want to lose her teasing show, but the influence of her words was too strong. “You can still watch my foot in your mind’s eye when you close your heavy eyes in three, two... impossible to resist... and ONE”. Danny’s head bounced towards his chest and stayed there. “Completely hypnotized. Waiting for my instructions. Going deeper and deeper. It feels so good to be hypnotized by me, it’s so easy”. Her voice was now even softer.

Danny would never have guessed that Monica was still lying in her sofa, in her jogging suit, her feet wrapped around by some old socks and her hair undone. She knew from the start she wouldn’t let him see her face this time, so she could use a random clip from past conversations with other “clients”. She had put one of them in the video feed of the call. It was a simple ten minute clip, a fixed shot of her legs and feet, teasing the viewer: she knew she wouldn’t need more than that to enslave him. After some practice, she had realized that the “clients” only wanted to see her feet anyway, and there really was no need to pimp herself up for each call. Watching the ceiling for inspiration and holding a microphone next to her mouth, to be heard even more intimately, Monica began chatting with her new subject.

“Tell me Danny, how did you remember your class when you got home?”

“Good. Took notes of almost anything. I could just remember it, like you said”. Danny’s voice now sounded much lower.

“See? It’s already working. I’m sure you had time to think about me too”.

“Oh yeah... So good”.

“Did you whack it off?”

“Yeah”.

“How many times?”

“Two on that day, just after class and then at night. Two yesterday. And... one this morning” he confessed.

Oh my, this boy will have eyesores in no time, laughed Monica for herself. “Poor thing, I guess I overcharged you last time. Was it good?”

“Yeah... Delicious”.

“That’s so good Danny, you learning your place at my feet, and learning Physics in the process. Physics and my physique. I want you to open your eyes and remain deeply hypnotized, so you can watch me move my feet on the screen. Do it now”.

Danny opened his eyes slowly and looked at the screen with a vacant expression. Ms. Johnson’s legs were rubbing against each other, moving her shoes in the air, doing everything to catch his attention. Yet his mind was very much focused on what Monica was saying.

“You see Danny boy, we’re at opposite ends, me being superior and you being inferior. Me being the teacher and you being the student. Me being mistress... and you being servant. Me gazing at the skies... you looking at my feet. I don’t really have time to do this much often. So I’ll give you a nice substitute to watch me every time you want, and then just whack it off afterwards. You’ll go to clips4sale and look for FeetQueenMonica. That’s my account. You will find lots of videos of my legs and feet in there. They’re quite cheap. Use them at your own discretion, but remember you’ll still be watching my feet in the flesh every Thursday, while your unconscious mind records all that I say and you learn my Physics class. You can buy as many videos of me as you want, but you’ll still be coming for my classes and you won’t miss a single one, you’ll never get bored again. Besides, you know this is not a suggestion, this is a command”.

Silence. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah...” Danny said, a thread of saliva appearing on the corner of his mouth. He was too entranced into Monica’s feet to really think about anything, by now he would do whatever she told him. He was motionless, his eyes vacant.

“Good. You will also be unable to tell about any of this to anyone. The relationship between you and my feet is ours and ours alone. Most of the time you won’t even remember it, save for the times when you’re feeling horny, or when you come to class. Even if you wanted to talk about it to someone, to flaunt about it for instance, you’ll find that you don’t remember what you were going to say. Your mind is locked about this matter, and I hold the key. It will be our secret. Do you understand?”

“Yessss”. Danny’s saliva was now slowly falling down to his chest.

Monica checked the vid she was playing: she had two minutes left. Time to wrap it up. “Good. Now Danny, I know you came here waiting for something. Are you horny?”

“Yeeah”. He was shifting in his seat already, his boner making him uncomfortable.

“Good. I know you want to whack it off. You can start whacking off now”. In a second, Danny’s right hand was opening his trousers and taking out his dick. “You won’t come until I tell you. Now stand up, and let me watch you do it”.

Danny hurried to stand up; he was so caught in his own horniness that his chair fell back to the floor. He didn’t even notice, he was so hard and wanted to show his teacher how she had turned him on. Slightly amused, Monica was scratching her ear with her little finger, looking for serum, while she watched this horny teenager grabbing and jerking an average, pretty hairy cock, breathing heavily through his mouth. She smiled for herself with a little tenderness. There goes another one, she thought.

“Don’t take your eyes off the screen, in some seconds I will drop my shoes and show you my soles. I know how much you want to see them, because there’s no way I could show them in class. My soles are so smelly. And so erotic. As soon as you see them, you will come, and this call will end. After you come, you will wake up feeling good and refreshed, wanting to go look me up on clips4sale and buy my content. Do you understand?”

“Yeah... Your soles... Clips4sale... Oooohhhh!”

She noticed in the video, she was dropping her sandals to the floor and slowly raising her feet forward, until her soles were in front of the lens. She could now see Danny’s body jerking back and forth, jism spitting out of his cock head in all directions. She laughed silently, imagining Danny trying to clean all that later. “Thaaat’s it, Danny. Come for me. Submit to me. Obey me. Buy my clips. See you in class. When I cut the call, you will wake up. Bye sweetheart”.

“Bye Ms. John... er, Monica” he managed to say before the video ended and the woman ended the call. Good! Now she had all the weekend for herself. And time helping, there would be no late sloppy students showing up at the end of the year for exams. She could take a long vacation, as it was her wish.

Days turned into weeks, and Danny never missed class. He could understand everything about Physics now, he’d even explain it to his friends. And he was so happy. Also, he was eating a lot, all that whacking off was making him lose weight. But he never got tired of Ms. Johnson’s feet, which kept him shaking his johnson. He was buying her clips and enjoying late private parties with his notebook and headphones. His family noted he was in a better mood, and his grades were improving.

One morning, Danny’s mother needed to find something on YouTube, but her phone had just died and needed some battery charge. Sighing, she plugged it in and went to her son’s bedroom. “Danny! I just need your notebook for a minute” she said before coming in, respecting her son’s privacy. She noticed the murmur of the shower; Danny hadn’t heard her. No matter. She seated at his desk and turned the notebook on.

Danny’s YouTube default page left her a little surprised. The first row showed clips of anonymos female legs and feet; at least that’s what she could see in the miniatures. When she read “FeetQueenMonica” in the little captions below them, she laughed, covering her mouth. What was this? She made sure the volume was low and pressed play on the first clip. It was the legs of some woman under a desk, crossing and uncrossing, playing with her sandals. “Wow! My son is a foot fetishist” she thought. “Is this allowed on YouTube?” It was so funny; thank God he hadn’t seen her browsing his stuff. She closed the window and turned the thing off. Then she silently stood up, leaving everything as it was before, and left the room.

Not that Danny would really have noticed; he was too busy under the shower, still thinking about Monica’s last clip. It was so delicious! He loved her choice of sandals and was already thinking about picking up a new pair for her, he already knew her foot number. He could get some in Amazon and send them to her as proof of his deep devotion. Monica was his queen now, and every morning he woke up with a hard-on from dreaming about her all night. He had to take long showers to whack it off, rubbing and massaging his slightly overused cock. He couldn’t have heard his mother if she played that video at full volume.

Back in the kitchen, Danny’s mother was smiling to herself while doing her chores. The boy was just like his father. Her husband was a sucker for feet, had been from the day she had met him. Before the kids were born, she used to feed his addiction with little games and jokes; now they were just doing it by the numbers. It was kind of logic that their son shared that interest. The woman was now linking the dots between separate bits from their past, things they had said or done. How little baby Danny liked to bite her feet while sitting on the floor, laughing and grinning; the kind of happy, overexcited early memory that the mind could relate, in adulthood, to sex. The day when her niece had mocked him for staring at her feet; the way the boy smiled when he found some girl exercising on TV; the day she herself had posed her bare feet on the table, trying to disturb her husband, only to have Danny immediately criticize her: “Mom please, take that down!” The poor boy, was he feeling guilty? She was feeling a rush of tenderness towards her first child. She asked herself if Ginny, Danny’s girlfriend, was aware of this acquired taste. Maybe she should tell her. She liked her, and wanted them to be a steady couple.

Monica was happy. She had already finished her school year and not one single student was going for late exams, she could skip those entirely! All her late “sloppy students” had been properly cared for, and “treated”, and now they were buying her products. Monica’s little business on the side was really promising: she now dreamed of the day she could leave teaching class and dedicate in full to her new company, that is, to her leg and foot fetish clips. They were all more or less like the one Danny had seen that day, but she supplemented them -nice as they were with her ever changing shoes, socks, stockings and stuff- with her velvety voice, that quickly sent her audience into a little trance, to make them learn how to submit to her and obey her and buy even more clips from her. It was like a snowball, really. Especially those little cheap clips she did to tease her clients: she had thought them for students and middle-class types who couldn’t spend much. She also offered live calls, at much higher prices though, and she used to get just a couple of those a month. She knew those were entirely different clients, mostly jaded executives and businessmen looking for release after a boring day at the office, or alone at some hotel, in the middle of an uneventful business trip. She knew this because they all ended up telling her about them and their lives. They were all middle-aged married men, and even a woman or two. She liked to tease and torture, swiftly degrading them with her talk, remembering them how they would end doing everything she said and still buy all her stuff, never complaining. She had correctly guessed that these men were in positions of power and needed to balance their worrisome lives with some kind of demeaning treatment that liberated them from having to take decisions for a while; they loved to be under her command and feel powerless, like real slaves. With the boys it was more of a game of teasing, a little fun around their fetish, helping them to confess it and live happily with it, and the fact that she knew her students would really improve in class after her “treatment”.

She was now tanning at the beach with her latest boyfriend, a big quarterback player she had seduced at some party, just by sitting there at a distance, flexing her feet this way and that. She had noticed him fixing on her peds and picked all the signs of a foot fetishist -her prey. Mike was easy to be with, had a nice character, a lot of stamina and a well-built body that she loved to be embraced in. She had hypnotized him at the beginning, just to condition him, but now she preferred to let him loose to see where he would go with those little suggestions she had implanted on his practical, even primitive mind, watching it click and light up when she gave him the proper signs, making him behave like a boy let loose in a playroom. They were having great sex together, and had been talking about having a week at some beach in the East, but Monica’s new business was making so good they ended up going to Mexico for a full month. They were staying in a nice first-class beach in Acapulco, and right now were bathing themselves in the sun, laying over a pair of towels in the sand, some fifty feet away from their cabin. The beach was half-full with families and young girls, most of them tourists. She had already caught Mike staring at some of the girls passing by their side, and decided she had to claim her territory. Mike was laying in the sand with his back to her, gazing at the sea, when she lifted her legs and slipped them at either side of his neck, sliding them down, pressing her divine arched feet towards that bare, hairy chest she liked so much. The man just sighed, now caressing her long slender legs with his hands and arms, sure that he had been caught. “Time to catch up, sweetie” she whispered, rubbing his chest with her soles. Mike was just making hum noises while enjoying Monica’s caresses, from time to time letting out a soft moan. He hoped their neighbors didn’t notice the lump in his swimming trousers.

“Who’s your queen” Monica said, smiling, gazing at that living proof of Mike’s horniness.

“You are” Mike said with a sigh. Monica laughed out loud. She was so happy. Wanting to play, she was now ordering Mike to get on all fours. The man, used to her whims, complied. After all, nobody in there knew them. Monica walked over him from behind and then sat over his sanded-up back. “Ouch” he said, feigning a huge weight. “Stop whining and take me to the water” she ordered cheerfully. Mike couldn’t believe this, she was being so bratty lately. “Do it!” she said, letting her calves cling from Mike’s shoulders, her tanned, sand-covered feet now hanging very close to his face, like a carrot in front of a mule. Mike sighed again, and inhaled deeply, trying to capture some of Monica’s foot scent. Then he started moving on all fours, Monica on top, trying to ignore the neighbors watching them in amusement. His queen loved to be the center of attention.

Meanwhile, back in town, Danny was spending the afternoon at Ginny’s house; her parents were away for the weekend, and they were kissing and making out on her bed, still fully clothed. Ginny was a blond-haired girl his age, of average height and body, but with a nice face and smile, and also a pretty good pair of legs. She liked when he complimented her on them, but had always been a little self-conscious about her feet, which she didn’t think were pretty enough. Of course she still didn’t really know what constituted pretty feet for a man; she, like Danny, was at that age when you’re kind of trying everything once, to see if it works and how.

“Danny, do you like my feet?” she said, presenting them to him. She had on a sleeveless T-shirt and khakis, and some light pink flipflops. Danny gazed at Ginny’s stretched feet with a longing, he wanted to confess to Ginny about his fetish, but felt hesitant; he guessed she wasn’t really comfortable about them. However, he had noticed that for the first time, that day Ginny had her toenails painted. Not in those ridiculous multicolored patterns girls liked to do on her nails now. No, she had painted them in deep red, and somehow that made her flip-flopped cute small feet look more adult, and sexy.

“Yeah, sure” he offered, like it was no big deal.

“C’mon” she mockingly punched him in the chest, just for fun. She was trying something new, she had to know if Danny had a fetish about feet. “Tell me the truth” she added, trying to sound clever. Then they began a mock fight, until she had one of her flipflops pressing against his cheek. “I know you like’em” she said. “I saw you look at them!".

Actually, Ginny had been noticed about Danny’s kink from, of all people, his own mother. Ginny didn’t ask how she had found that piece of information, but her future mother-in-law seemed a good-natured person, wanting to help her. “It’s important a man has all the gratification you can give him, even if it is a little absurd” the older woman had confided to her. “That way, they love you more... and then you can manipulate them!” she laughed, pushing her with her elbow. They had both laughed.

Now Danny was feeling relaxed around her; he knew it was his opportunity to get some of what he really wanted. “Yeah, I like feet” he admitted calmly. “They’re nice. I like to see them, smell them... lick them” he said in a good mood, while playing and trying to lick her foot. She scolded, but then realized she wanted to get in the game. “Show me” she said, taking her flip flop out and extending her tender foot until it was a couple of inches from his mouth.

Surprisingly, Ginny saw Danny take the bait and grab her foot delicately with his hand, planting light kisses on it, then slowly letting him be taken over by his inner passion. A couple of minutes later, he was already licking her foot all the way round like a small boy would do with an icecream. Ginny at first laughed, then fell silent, and now was beginning to really like it. It was so cool! She had her boyfriend at her feet, she was feeling like she had a new power.

“You told me that you masturbate. Do you do it thinking about feet?” she said, stopping his ministrations.

“Well, yes, sometimes” he conceded.

“Do you think about my feet?”

“Yeah” he said. Of course, most of the time he was thinking of Ms. Johnson’s cute slender peds, but he already knew he could never touch them, she had told him that many times and he loved to obey her. Ginny’s feet, on the other hand, while not worthy of a model, were nice enough and available. He could kiss and pamper them. He was getting hornier and hornier about the whole situation.

“I want you to masturbate right now” Ginny said. There was a silence. Danny looked at her. She was dead serious. “I never saw you masturbate, I want to see how you do it”. She shifted her position in the couch; Danny was sitting on the floor at her feet. She presented them together at the edge of the bed; with her red toenails all shiny from his licking, they looked neat.

“I want you to masturbate to my feet, and then come on top of them!” she now ordered. Danny knew this was some kind of test, so he should better comply. He got up and sat down on the bed next to Ginny’s feet. He thought of all the things Ms. Johnson used to say in her videos: “You know that I’m superior, and you’re inferior. You know that women knows best. You know that men are weak”. He was feeling all that taking control of him now, Ginny was turning into a younger, prettier version of Ms. Johnson. He was very horny now; Ms. Johnson’s words never failed at provoking that reaction.

Ginny kept looking at him, watching his expression change, and realized she would get her wish.

Meanwhile, back at the family house, Danny’s mother was satisfied looking at her new flipflop sandals. These were made in rubber, very light, and in summer colors: they were playful, with platforms and a little heel, enough to make her legs look good. Her feet fit nicely in them and now she was playing with positions, seeing which made her look better. She had just bought them, along with several other shoes, in an impromptu raid at the local mall. She now had a plan.

All those YouTube videos, which she had already browsed on her phone, had taught her all she needed to know and confirmed some ideas she had about men and female feet: the rubbery soles, the walk, the one-strap sandals, and of course the painted nails. She locked herself in the bedroom and took her phone, opening the camera function and switching it to video. Then she sat on the bed, turned on a lamplight for additional light, and began filming her foot bouncing back and forth, at the edge of the bed.

She felt so young doing this! She waited a few seconds for the vision of her sandaled feet to kick in, and then she whispered: “I’m boooored. I don’t know what to do”. She began flapping the insole of the sandal against her foot, making a soft flap sound. “Do you think of something?” Flap, flap, flap.

Once finished, she played the short clip and, satisfied, she sent it to her husband. She knew very well what she was doing; that talk was a little code she and Don had from the early days, when she could lure him out of just any place, any given party, just to dedicate himself to her. Back then Don used to smell and lick her feet for a long time, “massaging” them with his face, then going up her legs with a slow rhythm which made her feel so much wet. Their kids had brought along the need for quick, clean fuck sessions, having killed those sleepless nights long ago. Now her husband used to pass more and more time at work, probably looking for new adventures, and maybe even having them. Well, enough is enough, she thought. I will make him come back to ME.

And sure enough, one minute later she was receiving a message on her phone: “Wait there. Don’t change”. She jumped out of the bed in happiness. Finally! She hurried to make everything ready.

At work, a disheveled Don was quickly saying goodbye to everyone, surprising his colleagues. Don was of the kind who seem to be always looking for excuses to linger on the office a little bit more. On his way out, he didn’t even gaze at the new secretary in her desk, the one he always wished to see using some open-toed sandals for him to steal looks at her cute tender feet.

Twenty minutes later, Don was screeching his car into his parking lot. He entered the house quickly, greeting his daughter from a distance, and went up the stairs towards the master bedroom, where he knew his wife would be waiting. He didn’t know what had got into her, but he couldn’t complain. He truly loved his wife and had been waiting for something like this for a long time: he realized it now.

Maybe the seed of this love reawakening had been planted the day he discovered his young son watching some online video about feet! He had closed his notebook as soon as he heard him entering his bedroom, and Don made as if he hadn’t noticed. He then sent him to do some errand and restarted his son’s computer. There they were, Monica’s legs and feet in full display, and as soon as he put on the little headphones Danny had been using while watching them, he was transfixed. Luckily for him, the clip only lasted ten minutes, enough for him to wake up from a daze -Monica’s voice was that powerful- and leave everything as it was before. But this mysterious woman wouldn’t get away from his mind, and one night during one of those boring business seminars he used to take as a way of a holiday from his family chores, he traced Monica and booked a call with her. She was alone and didn’t hesitate to take the call: a new client was always welcome. She soon was wrapping his mind with his velvety voice, whispering sweet nothings that were making his free will spiral into nothingness. He awoke one hour later and with a hundred dollars less, but happy, his mind still swirling of visions of Monica’s feet moving around him, making him hard as a rock. He had come into his pants, something he had not done since he was in high school. He didn’t know he had been deeply hypnotized. More important, neither he nor Monica knew that Danny was a link between them in real life.

At the beach, now on the line of the sea, a very tanned Monica descended gracefully from Mike’s corpulent body and bathed her long, tailored feet in the shallow water. “See? Now they’re all clean for you my dear” she said to Mike, smiling. Mike, already conditioned, was still on all fours, waiting for instructions. She didn’t say anything, just stood there, hands on hips, staring at him, her calves and feet shining from the water passing through. She could see the wheels turning inside his confused, horny quarterback mind. Suddenly, the man stood up and took her by the waist, raising her up in the air.

“Wait! What are you doing!” she said in mock protest.

“We’re going to the cabin” he explained. “I don’t want your feet to get dirty”.

“Mmmm... Let’s” she cooed.

Mike was now crossing the beach back, carrying Monica comfortably in his arms like a siren or a girl from a monster movie, sorting out bystanders in the direction of their cabin. Monica was bursting with delight: everybody was staring at them now. The men would look at her and wonder what was this muscled pusher guy doing with a pale thin girl with a librarian look. But the women knew that she was the one calling the shots; they spied the man’s trunks, which were poking ahead in a strange way, with a knowledgeable smile. Here is a triumphant woman, their eyes seemed to say. They were envious of her and salivating at the sight of her Sports Illustrated model-like boyfriend.

Back at Ginny’s house, Ginny was now staring with wonder: a frenzied Danny, focused on his deed, was jerking his cock in the direction of her feet. It was obvious he was about to come. Ginny had never seen him like this. She put her feet forward and tried a stern, direct command: “Come on my feet Danny. Come on my feet now”.

Inside the dorm of Danny’s parents, Don was kneeling at the floor. He was totally naked now, adopting a submissive pose. His wife, still fully dressed, was staring at him with a commanding presence and a smile on her lips. She was using a light satin nightgown barely covering her assets, and her still likable legs were stretching in his direction, the colored rubber sandals making flip-floppy sounds against her feet.

“Come to me right now” she commanded swiftly. In a second, Don was licking and biting at her feet and calves, possessed by a rage. His old fetish, reawakened and nurtured by Monica’s videos and hypnosis sessions, was now in full bloom. He could not be stopped. He needed to fuck those feet, those legs, that wife that he needed so much. How could he think of another woman. How could he ignore the one he had in his own house.

Back in the cabin, Monica was laying on a king size bed, still in her bathing suit, her legs up into Mike’s shoulders, watching him pump into her with a steady rhythm. Like Danny waiting for his seed to sprout all over Ginny’s feet, like Don wildly lapping up his wife’s skin on a trip towards her pleasure center, Mike also had a hungry look and a slightly vacant expression in his eyes. Monica then thought: men are so predictable. So manipulable. And they can make you so happy. All that you need to own them is a little foot hypnosis.