The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“More tea?”

The young woman didn’t wait for an answer, bending forward to refresh both of their cups from an ancient copper teapot. She was wearing a low-cut sweater, and seemed to enjoy giving them a good view of what lay underneath it. Mission accomplished, she straightened and brushed long strands of strawberry-blonde hair from her pretty face.

The old man looked up at her. “Thank you, Orla.” He held out his hand and flicked his fingers, motioning for her to leave. “You should tend to the garden. It needs weeding.”

She smiled, two rows of impossibly perfect white teeth. “Of course.” Her voice was soft and submissive, a hushed tone more suited for a bedroom than the dining room. Her eyes fluttered, and settled into a dreamy, worshipful study of his craggy face. “As you wish, dear. I’ll get to it right away.” Then she was off, humming and swaying in time to whatever pop tune had lodged itself in her head.

They sat in silence for a moment before he broke into a wide, guilty grin. “What?”

Alice stared at him. “She’s a model!”

“Was a model. She doesn’t need to work now. I’ve plenty of money.”

“Granda, she’s twenty-two.”

He avoided her accusing glare. “Twenty-three come April. I know what you’re getting at, Lissie. When two people are in love…”

Alice lowered her voice, leaning forward across the table until she was hovering over the remains of his breakfast. “You know she’s just after your money.”

“That’s your mother talking.”

“It’s true! Why else would she…” Alice sank back into her chair. “Why else would she marry you? I’m sorry, granda, but she’s my age, and you’re… well, my granda! You could be her granda! She could have any man she wants with that body.” She picked up her teacup with both hands and held it under her face. “I know you’re in love, but I think mam is right about her.”

His eyes were a stunning deep blue, almost hypnotic to look at. Alice was certain that he would have been able to snare Orla, and dozens of other beauties, as a dashingly handsome young man. But now?

“Does she know you’re here?” he asked.

“Pfft!” She giggled, sending little drops of tea everywhere. She slipped one hand beneath her cup to steady it. “Absolutely not! She’d likely disown me if she knew I was coming over to visit every Sunday.” She laughed again. “I tell her that I’m at the library, studying to get into university.”

His face darkened. “You’re not, though.”

“No. Never. After this I’m most likely off to the park. It’s lovely out.”

“Why won’t you try it, Alice?” His eyes pleaded with her. “An education, that is. It’s practically required in this economy.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t interest me much. I’m smart enough as is. I’d rather be doing things than learning about them. Besides,” she pointed at him, “you never went to uni, and you’ve done well for yourself. Nice house, gorgeous model wife, simply lovely grandchildren who visit you every Sunday…”

One lovely grandchild, dearie,” he chuckled. “One. And I want her to make something of herself, not manning a till at Tesco until she’s old and grey.”

“You’re old and grey. I’ve my whole life in front of me. I figure if you can accomplish all of this… did I mention you were married to a supermodel?”

“She certainly seems to get more attractive with each retelling.”

“Well then.” She took a long sip. “Tell me your secrets, granda. All of them. How’d you get all of this? How’d you get her to fall in love with you?”

He lowered his cup, until it rattled against its saucer. “You’d really like to know?”

“I’ve only asked you a hundred times.”

He looked through the window into the garden, where his beautiful bride was on her hands and knees, happily yanking up weeds in a tight skirt that left little to the imagination. “Lissie,” he began, “you must never tell anyone in your family what I’m about to tell you. You’re not to tell anyone, in fact. Not your friends, not your workmates, not anyone. Understood?”

All manner of jokes came to her mind, about granda being in the mob, or a retired secret agent, or the finder of a long-lost trove of Celtic treasure. “I was tending my sheep when I stumbled across a forgotten barrow…” But the jokes never made it to her mouth. There was something in his eyes, those soulful eyes, something secretive and mischievous. Something dark. She needed to know what it was. “I understand. I won’t tell a soul.”

He leaned to his left and, after a bit of hunting, pulled a pocket watch from his pocket. He let it dangle above the table. It was old, but in great shape, with a polished surface that seemed to pick up and reflect every last ray of light in the room.

“You were a stationmaster, then? Well, I suppose I can always—”

“No, Lissie. No joking, please. This is important.” He lowered the watch to the table and covered it with his hand. “I mean it. You wanted to know my secrets. This is the biggest of them. This is the key to all the rest.”

The seriousness in his voice caught her off guard. She looked down at his shaking hand, and the watch peeking out beneath it. “Okay, granda. Go ahead.”

“After the war,” he said slowly, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. “I volunteered with the Red Cross in France. Terrible business, mind you. Everyone living in ruins. They had nothing. There was a doctor there, a local fellow, who pitched in when he could. A psychiatrist. One day we struck up an odd conversation about a man named Pierre Janet…”

Bezaubernd und so reizvoll! Ja, du! He! Ja, du! He! Jetzt lass uns bis zum Ende gehen!

Peter rarely danced—something his girlfriend never failed to tease him about—but even he couldn’t completely resist the catchy chaos of K-Pop. Shielded by the dim lighting of the mezzanine, he wiggled his hips and threw his shoulders back and forth, nodding in time to the music. If anyone was watching, they had the courtesy to not say anything.

“No! Amanda, no! Celeste, listen to me!”

Peter stopped dancing. Whatever was going on in there, it was getting serious. And loud.

“Listen! I… goddamn it… CELESTE!”

Years of bartending experience told him that the best course of action was to march in and break up whatever fight was going on between the screaming girl and Celeste. A quick, forceful show of authority and a few stern threats about eviction generally did the trick, and if that failed, the bouncer was downstairs. He moved a foot, then caught himself.

“Wait for my words, dearie.” Alice had been very clear on that point. Like it or not—and at the moment, he didn’t—the boss was still the boss.

He moved back into position just as the door opened and a gorgeous brunette calmly stepped onto the mezzanine. She ignored both Peter and the incredible commotion going on behind her, moving slowly to the staircase with deliberate, careful steps. Behind them, a hand curled around the edge of the door and pulled it shut.

“Celeste! Wait… gah! Get… get OFF OF ME! CELESTE!”

Komm schon, Alice! Five minutes. He would give her five minutes. Then he was going in, and doing something about it. Even if it meant getting fired. Even if-

“HELP! SOMEBODY! OW!”

Scheisse! He gripped the railing and scowled. Someone was fighting in there. Did the brunette girl make a run for the bouncer? He was the logical choice for breaking up fights. Peter didn’t know him well, but the man was certainly capable of putting an early end to this. He squeezed the metal pipe and scanned his surroundings. No one else seemed to be concerned by the racket. Either the girl would come back with the bouncer, or he would bring him up himself. He checked his watch. Vier Minuten… Maybe he needed to peek in there himself, just to be sure. He couldn’t hear Alice’s voice, but the others…

The Very Important Words came before he could make up his mind.

“Peter!” Alice’s voice, loud and clear. “NOW!”

“Sorry mate, but the boss has been busy lately. No one’s available tonight.”

The young man nervously folded his Euro notes. “But… this is the right place? If I have the money, I can… you know, with them?”

Ian fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, mate. This is the place. Try not to be so loud about it, will you? Things are a bit off this week, is all. Come back in a few days, there should… be…” He glanced up to the mezzanine, and nodded. “Look, come back in a few days. That’s all I’ve got.”

He waited for the unhappy boy to wander off, then flashed a thumbs-up to an impatient Peter. He turned, hand still raised, and flashed the DJ with the signal Peter had given him. Four fingers, then three, then two. The DJ responded with a nod of his own.

Jungle telegraph, Ian thought, reminded of childhood Saturdays spent watching old movies on the telly. Me Tarzan want Jane. You send Jane.

His task for the night complete, he leaned against the wall and waited for the next disappointed customer as the DJ brought his remix of Gangnam Style to an early end.

Grace obeyed.

She could feel the wub wub wub of the beat vibrating up from the floor into her boots and legs, strumming pleasantly against her lower body in a way she hadn’t felt since those long dark Reykjavik nights spent with Mister Magic Wand. Mmmm… She eyed the dirty floor and wondered how good it would feel to press herself against it, grinding her crotch into the linoleum as everyone stared and pointed at-

No. I must wait and obey. I will wait and obey.

Mindless obedience did more for her arousal than any dance floor or Japanese vibrator could ever hope to match, and her heart fluttered as she leaned backwards, her butt bouncing against the wall with a satisfying thump. God, I’m so horny right now. A hand cupping my ass, the other on the back of my head, bringing me closer, our sweaty bodies melting together as we… obey. We must obey. Perfectly obedient…

She was staring across the room, her accidental gaze falling upon a short Italian girl in high heels and a long, expensive leather coat. The girl looked back, looked away quickly, then slowly turned her head to face Grace. They locked eyes, and the girl waved. Her face scrunched into a cute, timid smile. Another wave, more confident this time.

I will wait and obey. I will wait and obey.

The girl’s hand fell, along with her smile, and she joined the scrum of thirsty customers at the bar. The crowd was two and three people deep by now, and growing restless with each moment.

I will wait and obey. I will wait and obey.

She looked away from the Italian beauty and towards the dance floor, where the peppy dance remix was giving way to an odd, low, throbbing bass beat. It rose and fell in smooth, even waves. Powerful waves. Hypnotic waves. She found herself swimming in them, reveling with each trough as the beat took her slowly, inexorably back to her favorite place in the world.

Mindless. Obedient. Listen, Grace. Listen and obey.

She had a job to do. That was why she was here. That was why she was not to move away from this spot until the music changed and this beat began to play. Only then would she remember her next orders, and as she rode up and down on a sea of sound, those orders dropped neatly into place.

Lights. Pretty, pretty lights.

She left the waves and carefully planted her feet against the floor, turning in one smooth motion until she faced the wall behind her. Her hand instinctively went to the hidden seam and the little latch that opened it. Someone programmed me to know that, she thought. That’s so hot. She opened the panel and examined the switches before her.

Click. Thunk. Click. Every switch thrown was another log on the fire between her legs. She ignored everything else, even as the club and house lights snapped off section by section and a vortex of swirling yellow beams took their place. Click. Thunk. She held her breath until she finished the row, then closed her eyes and exhaled. I have obeyed, mistress.

By the time the orgasm shook her body, she was too deep in trance to appreciate it.

Rebecca opened her eyes. She had a thousand questions. The most obvious one—what the HELL is going on?—was a little too obvious, not to mention vague. She went with her second option. “Alice? Did… did you just hypnotize me?”

“Of course not, dearie!” Alice was backing away from her, a sly smile on her suddenly not-hypnotized face, quickly covering the distance to the office door before anyone else in the room had time to recover. “I want you to be awake and aware for this!”

The color drained from Edwin’s face. He held up his sinister black screen and activated it. Reflections of multicolored lights filled the room. “Alice! You will hypnotize Rebecca right now. You must obey me. Look at me, look at the screen. NOW.” Alice turned away, and he followed, intending to wrap his arm around her.

Rebecca sensed an opportunity. She sucked in a breath and shouted. “EDWIN!!”

He froze, suddenly unsure of who the bigger threat was, and who he needed to hypnotize first. His eyes darted to Rebecca, then back to Alice, then back to Rebecca again. “Stupid girl,” he concluded, deviating from his original plan and advancing on Rebecca with screen raised. “I’ve had just about enough of your bull—”

“Edwin,” Amanda shouted, “look out!”

But it was too late. Alice landed a well-aimed strike at his wrist, causing his hand to rocket skyward. The hypno-screen, still active, slipped from his fingers and sailed across the room. It smacked the wall with a gritty crunch and clattered to the ground, bits of broken glass and plastic bouncing back towards the center of the room.“Shit! Shit shit SHIT!” He scurried over to the wall, bending down to confirm the obvious. “Dammit, she broke it!!”

Rebecca sensed movement behind her. She turned to find Amanda heading her way, a snarl on her face, hands raised as if prepared to slug her way out of the office. Rebecca held her ground and snarled back. “Stay right the fuck there,” she spat, curling her hands into fists.

The older woman looked to Edwin for help, but he could only respond with a helpless shrug. She stopped. The scowl gave way to an unhappy, defeated frown. “I told you,” she said. “I told you we couldn’t trust her! She was pretending this whole fucking time!”

“Oh, shut up, Mandy! You always think you’re right. Shut up!” He scooped the broken remains of his device from the floor and stuffed them into a pocket. “You’ve… you should have kept up the act, Alice. Now you’re going to see what twenty hypnotized girls can really do. I’m going to have them tear your fucking arms off. Slowly.”

Alice perked up at that. “Oh, the girls outside? Do you mean my girls, Edwin? The ones you tried to steal from me? I’m afraid they’re all a bit occupied right now. Come and see.”

With that, she flung the door open, revealing a very-worried looking Peter. Beams of yellow light swept the office and mezzanine like searchlights. A wavering hum—Rebecca, if later pressed, would have identified it as a whaaaawhuuuummm sound—filled the room. The sound made her more than a little dizzy, and she had to reset her footing to keep from toppling over. Edwin and Amanda—though not Alice—seemed to respond the same way. Even Peter seemed a bit dazed.

“Do you like my little light show? Heaven knows I’m quite a fan of them. Just ask Rebecca!” Alice beamed like a proud parent. “We’re above and a bit out of range, mind you. But everyone downstairs finds the combination of sound and light to be simply irresistible! Especially my lovely girls, Edwin. Their minds are perfectly susceptible to what’s being fed to them right now.”

“You’re bluffing.” Amanda moved forward menacingly, looked at Rebecca, and then decided against it. “You want us to believe that you hypnotized the entire club in one shot?”

“Oh, not all of them, dearie! When we go downstairs, you’ll see that everyone else is merely a little bit out of sorts. A bit dazed, perhaps. Certainly nothing like mind control. But speaking of bluffs, you nasty little gobshite, consider yours called. Those girls are far too entranced right now to pay the slightest attention to your little orders. I’m afraid you’ve no leverage at all, dearie.” She smiled. “The cards belong to me. Now, Rebecca.”

Did she snap out of it somehow? Was it when I told her to get us out of this mess? Maybe she’s still acting out the suggestion to act like her normal self?

“Rebecca…”

Maybe I can test her trigger and drop her—no, so stupid, Rebecca! Edwin and Amanda would love it if you put Alice back under! Maybe I should-

“Rebecca!”

She looked up to find Alice pointing to the door. “Have you forgotten that you’ve got a girl to catch? Go! Go go go!”

The word dropped into her stomach like a cannonball.

Celeste!

She dashed to the open door, hoping at first to see Celeste leaning against the railing and lost in Alice’s light show like the others. But there was only Peter, and a scattering of dim figures on the other end of the mezzanine. She looked to the bartender in panic. Where did she go? Where do I go?

He held up a single hand, palm upraised as if to say “I have no idea, Rebecca.” He shrugged and pointed to the stairs.

She took them two at a time, three at the landing, ignoring the pain in her leg. At the bottom she scanned the dance floor over and over, hoping to see a familiar head of light brown hair. Once, twice… Celeste? No. Shit! Where is she?!

Alice was right about the daze. Everyone on the dance floor—everyone in the club, really—had fallen into the same wobbly, left-and-right dance shuffle. Above them, the yellow lights flashed and swirled. It was like standing at the bottom of a crowded swimming pool. She cut directly across the floor without provoking a single word of protest from the mesmerized dancers. Bar, crowd, tables… booths… dammit, she’s not here either. Most of the booths were hidden from this angle, but she knew Celeste wouldn’t be in any of them. Unless…

She spotted Grace and pivoted in her direction. The bartender was propped up against the wall, one hand resting on her generous chest, the other dangling loosely by her side. Her eyes were closed. Probably lost, Rebecca guessed, in the same cloud of trance that all of the other hypnotized women were blissfully floating through. Still, no one had tried to snap the girls out of it. Perhaps she could.

“Grace? Grace!”

She grabbed the girl’s shoulders and shook them. The pretty bartender’s head bobbed up and down, stands of blue hair falling into her eyes, but she said nothing. Her face was serene and blank, her body swaying and softly moaning under the hypnotic sway of the beat. She opened her eyes, two blank orbs that looked directly at Rebecca but saw nothing. “Nnnnn... “ She sighed.

Rebecca shook her again. “Have you seen… Jesus… Grace! Have you seen Celeste? Grace! Listen to me! Where is Celeste?”

“I…” Her lips parted with a wet pip. “I… musssssst… obeeeeyyyy…” She placed both hands on her hips and slid them up and down her body. “Deeper. Go deeper. Deeper. Go deeper.”

The music. Hadn’t Alice said something about subliminals? Special speakers? Not that it mattered. Club Trabant was full of useless zombies. Against her better judgment, she gave it one last try.

“Goddamn it, Grace! WAKE UP!”

Tight ass, cleavage-baring top, that wild electric hair, eyes soft and lidded, lost in trance, full lips slowly repeating a brainwashed mantra. The hypnotized beauty was everything she desired in a woman, and yet, at this moment, it was the last thing that Rebecca needed. Or wanted.

“Fuck!” Anger and frustration poured out of her mouth, blazed from her eyes, strung every muscle in her body like a bow. She wanted to slap Grace in the face, over and over, just to knock the sense back into her. To undo the zombie she’d created for her own selfish needs. If she hadn’t tranced her in the alley… no, it was too late now. The trusty, tough-as-shit sidekick was broken. Rebecca was on her own.

Front door. Go. Now. NOW.

She pushed through an unresisting crowd of revelers by the bar, pushed through the front door, pushed past the surprised and surly bouncer, who grunted out a warning to Rebecca to keep her distance. That was easy enough; she was already crossing the street and heading north to the U-Bahn station.

Rebecca was gone by the time a triumphant but wary Alice led her two defeated foes out of the office and onto the mezzanine. Peter, ever vigilant, formed the caboose to her locomotive, with Edwin and Amanda caught between them. Alice stopped at the railing and looked down on the crowd, shielding her eyes from the yellow lights with one hand propped against her forehead. “Oh!” she giggled, wiggling her hips with excitement. “This is so much better than I imagined! You hear stories, you know. You track down parts, bits, have things made and shipped… a tremendous undertaking! You can understand why I needed an assistant, don’t you?”

Her glum captives said nothing. Their faces only energized her more, and she continued. “No, of course not, dearies! You can only take, not build. Take what belongs to others, and I’ve had my rightful fill of that nonsense this week! You’re lucky you’re dealing with me, dearies. My granda once… well, never mind all that.” She motioned for Edwin to come closer, and he obliged.

“Here’s what you’re going to do for me, Edwin. In a bit, you and I are going to go down and pull the girls up here, in small groups. Nothing like the army you brought in, mind you! Some of us like to be discreet and sensible.” She wagged her finger at her two opponents. “Then you’re going to undo your suggestions and return full control to me. After that, Peter will allow Amanda here to leave.”

His mouth fell open. “But…”

“If not, I’ve got a lovely basement and a rather impressive collection of drugs that will do wonders for that disposition of hers. Not that I’m not tempted to do it anyway, mind you! You’ve both been a royal pain tonight. The lessons I’d love to teach you!”

Amanda glared. Her eyes went to Peter, who blocked the single staircase. “If you lay a finger on me, Alice… or on Edwin… you’ll live to regret it.”

Alice cut off Edwin’s protest. “I used to be like the both of you. Always thought that this would be an easy business, once I got good at it, but it’s not. You’ve got to make a lot of tough choices! It’s not all mesmerized brides and bank managers! So you have my word, Amanda. You’ll find that mine is actually worth something in this city.”

She held out the door key for Peter. “Lock her in the office and then stand in front of the door. Edwin and I have some work to do.”

“Yes boss.” He palmed the key in his hand.

“Oh, and did you round up Ian for me? I could use another bodyguard while I tote this one around the ground floor.”

Peter nodded. “He is at the bottom of the stairs. The lights…”

She laughed, loudly, echoing among the rafters before being swallowed up by the relentless waves from below. “I’ll snap him out of it. And thank you, Peter! You’ve earned quite a bonus this week.” With that, she turned and led Edwin down the stairs into the sea of dancers.

“I underestimated you, Alice.” He dug his hands into his pockets. “We all did. Me, Amanda, Rebecca. I should have known.”

“You should have,” she said, raising her voice over the music. “And don’t you go on about Rebecca! She’s got her own problems to deal with, thanks to you! That reminds me.” She closed the distance between them. “If she doesn’t get to Celeste in time… well, I don’t think I have to tell you just how badly that’s going to affect your future, now do I?”

Thankfully, the rain was mostly over. A few stray drops stung Rebecca’s face as she splashed through the streets, angling north-northwest and trying frantically to remember exactly how far it was to the station. On a normal day, at a leisurely pace, when she wasn’t trying to stop her girlfriend from killing herself, it was about ten minutes. At night, with nothing to slow her down except her leg…

“She’ll be walking and you’ll be running.” Amanda’s words were encouraging at the time. But now, splashing through dark streets, Rebecca realized that Amanda had deliberately overestimated her ability to catch up. Celeste had a good five minute head start, and the station wasn’t exactly miles away.

She knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up. And she probably had no intention of sending me after her.

Rebecca fully believed the second part. She tried very hard not to think about the first.

Traffic was as light as the rain, and Rebecca darted across the boulevard, glad to be finally free of the little warren of side streets and back alleys. The space felt positively liberating. She knew, right then and there, that she would never set foot on those streets again. I get Celeste and I get us the hell out of here. Leave Alice and the rest to their fate, whatever that was. She made a left and quickened her pace. At this rate she could be at Bernauer Strasse in… fuck! She skidded to a halt and bent over, fighting a sudden urge to vomit, and sucking in huge gasps of air to calm herself. It helped, if only a little.

Sure enough, Bernauer was her station. She’d spent the better part of an hour in Tegel poring over maps with admitted ‘geography nerd’ Emily, committing as much as possible to memory to avoid having to pull out a map in public. Bernauer, she knew, would take Celeste to the airport, just as Amanda ordered.

Unless… that wasn’t Celeste’s airport.

Depending on the airline, and the departure airport—Rebecca knew neither—Celeste could have arrived at Schoenefeld Airport instead of Tegel. If so, that would be where she would head next. And that meant going to… think Rebecca think! probably Eberswalder. On the same street, but in the opposite direction.

There wouldn’t be enough time to check both stations. Either she made the right choice and found Celeste, or she’d arrive at an empty station while the police cleaned up her girlfriend’s mangled body at the other. She had to choose one or the other, and hope against everything that she chose correctly.

One way, or the other. Goddamn it! Please, please God. I won’t ever ask for anything ever again. Just let me guess right this one time!

One last chance. I can fix it. I really will.

She chose, and began to run.