The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was out on delivery again, allowing myself to feel a little pride. No, I hadn’t gotten rid of the clothes like I’d originally wanted to. Yes, I was even wearing some of them right now—underwear, skirt, and shoes. But I was sticking to my compromise strategy by wearing one of my old tops rather than the new one that the hot impulses had drawn me to.

The way to make the compromise effective, I’d found, was to choose an item of clothing that she’d probably still appreciate, and so I picked out a fairly revealing tank top that I’d previously only used as a pyjama top. It allowed the push-up bra to create a deep line of cleavage, displaying it proudly to anyone who cared to look, and that knowledge kept me warm and bubbly even as I rebelled.

As long as I’m not giving in to everything she wants me to do, I’m winning. I thought smugly.

My short skirt swished sassily as a guy walking by quite blatantly checked me out. I bit my lip and smiled once he was behind me. I’d come to realise that what really caused the pulses when I was being ogled was the knowledge that none of the voyeurs would ever have me—they could look but never touch. My nipples were distractingly stiff.

I strolled up the garden path to the next house, when the door opened right in my face, and the occupant and I both jumped in surprise. It was a girl with a stylishly unkempt pixie cut—a very cute girl. Ordinarily I would have allowed myself to be turned away, leaflets still in hand, but my usual social awkwardness was nowhere to be find, erased by the sexy confidence the pulses were imbuing me with at that moment.

She hesitated for a moment, and I was able to speak first. “Oh, sorry about that!” I laughed, pressing the leaflets directly into her hand.

She took them without a word, and without looking at them. A cat seemed to have her tongue, and from the way her eyes were flitting around it was clear she wasn’t sure which part of me to look at. She managed only to mouth one empty syllable, and then blushed, looking down and giggling nervously. I throbbed with heat at my own ability to reduce the girl to this useless state, but still turned to leave, not torturing the poor thing for any longer than was necessary.

It felt even better when it was a girl looking at me—however, it was still the certainty that she wouldn’t have a chance with me that was so hot. I was reserved.

That Friday afternoon, I sat at home staring at an unsent message on my phone, my thumb hovering static over the send button. It contained only two lines, the name and address of the usual pub I went to with my friends, and a time. Of course, I wasn’t going to send the message to her. I was already kicking myself for letting it get as far as it had, with the message typed out and her the selected recipient. The only reason that I hadn’t deleted the thing and set my phone down was that I was bracing myself for the punishment, that was all.

I had reason to be confident too—I was already doing so well that day. When I was in class with Eirin, I had resisted the urge to deliberately spill the water bottle I was drinking down into my cleavage, even though I was getting so hot from the number of times she had failed to resist staring. Even now, I was wearing a tiny silk robe as I sat using my phone, rather than being completely naked. It was clear my resistance was building nicely thanks to my compromise strategy, and I was sure I would be strong enough not to send the text.

And yet, at even the barest contemplation of locking my phone I felt a shot of cold—the feeling was most akin to guilt. Meanwhile, the thought of just allowing gravity to drop my thumb to the screen was so enticing. Even now I could feel the first inklings of the delights it would bring me—I could feel a pulsing in my crotch, and the silk fabric of the robe suddenly felt wonderful against my nipples.

Hmm, maybe it could be like a test—if I’ve gotten so strong maybe I can resist her even after inviting her to join me.

Almost immediately, of course, I realised how lame that rationalisation was—but it was too late. I’d already tapped the screen. I looked wide-eyed in disbelief at the message. I was frozen for a moment, and that was all the time it took—‘message read’ appeared under the bubble. Too late to delete it now.

“Why the ffff- oooooh….” My indignation at myself lasted only a moment before the waves of pleasure washed it away. I gasped and moaned, sliding down to recline in my seat as my hands reached inside the loosely tied robe to play with my naked body beneath. I gave myself over completely to the erotic impulses that were conjured in me.

I had no real excuse for showing up, nor for dressing the way I was dressed. Truth was all of my fighting after that point had felt half-hearted and token. I was so shocked and appalled at myself for sending the message that my resolve had just left me. It was too easy to just let the good feelings pull me along, so hard to resist the allure of those sexy pulses.

I was standing outside the pub, staring out into space as I relived the memory of that day’s self-pleasure sessions, numerous as I had gotten turned on getting ready, when I was pulled out of my revelry and into an even more delicious dreamland by her hand on my hip.

Neither of us spoke for a few moments as I stared at her. She was more gorgeous than ever that night in a v-neck sleeveless red top that drew just the right amount of attention to her decolletage and a billowing black skirt. Her hair was loose, curly, and flowing yet somehow still immaculately styled in the open air. Everything about her suggested both elegance and sultriness, and I was stricken, falling deeper under her spell.

Finally, she let her eyes drop from mine and, achingly slowly, she looked me up and down.

I was of course wearing one of her outfits, the littlest little black dress I’d ever seen. The neckline scooped down, showing an amount of cleavage I still found shocking, and the skirt was so short that I’d triple checked that I was totally covered before I left the house. Was it shame or pride I felt wearing this for her? The two emotions boiled and melted into one more and more each instant I spent with her.

After a few seconds, just long enough for me to become unaccountably nervous, she spoke.

“You look unbelievable tonight, sweetheart. Truly.” Her face flowered into a smile, and I melted into the compliment. She leaned in and pecked me on the cheek, then repeated herself. “Truly unbelievable.”

The brief press of her lips left a burning impression on me and turned my brain into a bubbling goop. I grinned stupidly and raised a hand to touch the spot. She chuckled at me.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” She walked with her arm still around me, and I moved with her without resistance.

The atmosphere turned awkward quickly once we were standing by my friend’s table. They stared up at us. Soph and Aliyah were at first caught off guard by my outfit, while Eirin noticed immediately the arm around my waist. Everything seemed to freeze. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and I was forced to shake myself out of my trance to break the ice.

“Hey, guys! I invited my new…” I paused for a brief but noticeable second. “Friend.”

It was at that moment I remembered that I didn’t know her name, and through the heat-haze some part of me began to feel hope. Maybe this night would be so awkward and strange that it would raise some alarm bells in my friend’s heads, maybe I wouldn’t have to tackle the near impossible challenge of alerting someone myself, maybe this might all begin to resolve itself. However, she dashed that hope as she took control of the situation, introducing herself as she sat down opposite the girls.

“I’m Ashlyn, Ash for short. Lovely to meet you.” She reached out and shook each of their hands. All three looked slightly bemused by the formality, but they all in turn politely accepted the gesture and offered their own names.

I noticed with private astonishment that none of them seemed to react to her touch at all. For a split second, I wondered what that meant, but whatever explanation I may have come up with was overpowered by a single internal voice accompanied by hot pulses—She doesn’t want them! She wants you! The idea was too exciting to let go of.

As we sat down on the leather-cushioned bench my thoughts began to collect themselves, and as the introductory small talk ensued, I attempted to pull together a plan to alert my friends to the fact that I was not voluntarily with this woman.

Simply up and telling them what was happening was impossible—I hadn’t managed to tell a soul thus far, and I certainly wouldn’t suddenly muster the self-control while I was in her presence. It was a struggle even to maintain this train of thought. Body language seemed the best way to broadcast that something was wrong. My plan was to act cold and distant, inviting my friends to question what was wrong.

But then she derailed that before it got started as she reached across and rested a firm hand on my thigh—the one furthest from her. Suddenly, the notion of being distant from her seemed a lot harder to manage.

She was responding to an inquiry about where we’d met. “I struck up a conversation with her at the bus-stop, and we clicked right away. We didn’t want to stop talking when the bus arrived, so we swapped numbers and we’ve been blowing up each-other’s phones since then!”

I couldn’t respond to her half-truths. My brain felt light, and my body felt heavy as it was pulled inexorably towards her. The heat spread from her hand and up into my cunt. My plan to distance myself from her melted away to her flame like candlewax. Her twinkling laugh encouraged me to giggle along with her, and my fried synapses didn’t stop me from doing just that.

For the rest of the evening, she was nothing but a friendly, charismatic charmer, while I was a total mess. I laughed at her jokes, slid closer and closer to her as the night progressed, and nodded along with her made up stories of dates and conversations we’d never shared.

The heat I received in return for playing along with her act and from her closeness sent all thoughts of alerting my friends up in smoke. In fact, it took all my willpower not to abandon social etiquette entirely and simply cling to her, draping myself across her lap and laying my head against her, pulling my body in tight to hers to maximise this wonderful contact. I resisted by contenting myself with just imagining what that would feel like, and the thought of it was enough to stoke the fire within me even higher.

Finally, she released me from her grip to go and use the toilet, and I was left alone with my friends.

“She seems cool!” Aliyah said with a smile, and as I looked over at her it occurred to me that I’d barely spent a glance on the three of them so far tonight. They must have thought I was besotted—not that they would be entirely wrong about that, I supposed.

Eirin’s tried to be equally supportive, but her smile was a stretched grimace and I fancied I could see the pain in her eyes. “Mmhm.” She grunted.

Soph was more concerned, her natural nosiness for once entirely welcome. “Are you alright, though? You’ve barely said a word all night.”

Yes, in fact I’ve barely had a conversation with this woman since I met her! Thank god I have at least one friend with the social awareness to see that something’s wrong here! That small voice from the back of my mind pierced the steam cloud that had been engulfing my thoughts, and a little self-awareness began to return to me—enough to realise that I had to try to at least give the girls a hint of what was happening to me.

“It’s just… It’s…” I struggled as the grim numbness began to creep over me right away. I hesitated, trying to find the right balance of words to communicate what she was doing to me without making the horrible grey feeling too intense for me to handle. “I don’t know how to explain it. Ever since I met her, she… She does something to me.”

I sat bolt upright as a frosty spear pierced my spine, and my throat began to bubble with nausea. Soph looked at me with dismay at my evident discomfort. I tried to say more, but it was too much.

“I’ll be back in a minute!” I nearly fell out of my seat and rushed for the door as fast as my heels would carry me without looking back.

Once outside, I leaned against the cold brick wall and tried to rally myself to re-enter and make another attempt. But then the door swung open and out she came.

She had a sad smile on her face as she looked at me, as though she were disappointed in me. The sickening deadness lifted as she took both my hands in hers. “Why did you do that to yourself, sweetheart? Wasn’t it much nicer just before, when you were feeling so good?”

In the cool night I managed to fight back the heat a little and keep enough resolve to answer back to her. “It- It was even better before, before you started doing this to me!” My voice shook.

She laughed and gave a light tug at my hands, and without struggle I fell up against her. Her arms wound around me, one hand on the small of my back and the other stroking my hair from behind. “Now you know that’s not true—you’ve never felt anything as good as this before in your life.”

The new sparkling sensory information of this embrace threatened to collapse my resistance, so I closed my eyes to at least protect myself from looking at her. I made one more effort even as my own treacherous hands rested on her hips, but my voice sounded weak and soft. “No, but I could still choose, I thought about things, I wanted—”

“You still have a choice, sweetheart.”

I whined in response. “No, no I don’t! You’ve made it so difficult, and all I can do is—“

I was silenced, and my eyes flew open. She was kissing me.

She was kissing me, and it was heaven.

My eyelids fluttered back closed and my body relaxed and responded, kissing back. In that moment I couldn’t even remember the words I had been saying. Each movement of her lips was an exquisite burst of feeling, and the way her hand buried itself in my hair, and the way she stroked my back, and the throaty little noises we were both making. I felt simultaneously electrified, turned on, and more relaxed and comforted than I ever had before. I pressed my chest into her and moved one foot behind hers—anything to increase how close I could be to her. I wanted it to go on forever, but she pulled away.

“I’ll see you both another time.” As she turned to leave, I was able to look away from her to see Soph hesitating in the doorway, red-faced and staring at the ground.

I stuttered. “S-soph… She- she—“ The discomfort was returning, and it felt even more horrible relative to the rapture I’d just experienced, but almost out of duty I attempted to explain to my friend what was being done to me. Soph raised a hand.

“It’s… It’s ok. I’m sorry.” She paused and I stopped short as well. Why was she apologising? “I’m sorry I couldn’t just trust you. It was probably so hard for you to come out to us, and I just had to let my doubts get the better of me. I’m… I’m happy for you.” She searched my face, unsure, and seemed reassured by my expression—I was probably still wearing the ghost of a dreamy smile. “Are you coming back in?” She said, after a moment.

I released all the tension within me and gave up. “No, I think I’ll head home now.” She lowered her head and nodded. I felt a sudden rush of relief and gratitude that the sickly numbness had left me, and I had to express it. “Thank you.”

The words were heartfelt, and Soph looked back up and smiled at me. Even if the meaning of what I said was lost on her the warm feeling between us was genuine, and we parted with a hug.