The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Does having large mammary glands make a person able to ward off getting … greatly influenced via hypnosis or mind control methods?,” said the male voice on the phone.

“Excuse me, what is the question?” said the woman on the other line.

“Is this Dr. Elizabeth Schuyler, senior professor of women’s mental fitness at Syracuse State I am talking to?,” said the male voice.

“Yes it is, but who are you, and what kind of cockamamie question is that,” she exclaimed, Schuyler had no time for some college prank.

“My apologies, this is Chief Frank Dolan of the Syracuse special forces division and, well, I am not sure what we have,” he said. “We’re just starting to piece it together. Best we can tell, there was a mass enslavement attempt at WFEM, the all-women station, using some kind of sophisticated hypnosis or mind control techniques.

“We don’t know a lot, and, honestly, we were hoping you could come down and, well, lend your expertise. We are far out of our element.”

Dr. Schuyler had twin emotions. This sounded like the stupidest thing she ever heard of. ‘Mass enslavement of women?’ That sounded like the plot of a 1950s sci-fi movie. But it also sounded intriguing, if it was indeed true.

“When would you need me?” she said.

“Uh, as soon as you can get here,” said Dolan. “We’ve been inside the station auditorium for about 10 minutes and, I can’t even describe the scene. There were just so many strange things occurring, I decided to bomb the place with sleeping gas. We walk in, and found hundreds of unconscious women, and all of them topless.”

That last bit caused Schuyler to almost choke on her coffee.

“Hundreds of topless women?,” said Schuyler. “Why?”

“That’s why we want you down here, we have no clue,” said Dolan. “This is out of our expertise. We used to fighting gangs, mobsters, and lone crazed shooters. Not this.

“A super bizarre part is, it appears three women must have been able to fight off the effects, and they were sort of imprisoned. And all three have humongous breasts. That’s why I asked that question. Like I said, it’s all odd.”

“I will be there as soon as I can,” said Schuyler, now really intrigued. Topless women being enslaved, but those with massive breasts unaffected, this was something she definitely wanted to be involved with. “I have one student in my office I need to take care of, and I will be right there.”

As she put down the phone, she looked to the right side of her office. A young brunette was staring into a spiral, earbuds clamped on her head, as a recording Schuyler had made especially for her, played.

As Schuyler got closer, she heard the woman mutter: “I do not need to be a slut. I have value, I do not need to be a slut.”

Schuyler stopped the spiral and took off the earbuds. The woman quickly snapped back to clarity.

“How are feeling Becky, did this help,” asked Schuyler.

“I think so,” said Becky. “I don’t feel like going to the nearest frat and pulling down my pants. It’s just a lot of unlearning to do. I’ve been a nymphomaniac for so long.”

“Well, that’s good, maybe we can make this a weekly thing,” said Schuyler. “But, right now, I need to leave the office, so we have to cut this session a little short.”

“That’s OK Doctor, I’m good,” said Becky. “I might even go to the library and try studying now.”

“That’s progress,” said Schuyler. “You can’t count on being able to sleep with every professor for grades.”

“Actually, I can,” said Becky with a knowing smile. “But now I don’t feel like I need to. Only if I want to.”

The campus was only about a 10-minute ride to WFEM. As soon as she identified herself, Schuyler was quickly whisked inside the auditorium. Dolan had not been exaggerating, the scene was bizarre.

There was a podium in the front, with a man sprawled out and not moving. Then, there was row after row of women, many of them young and, Schuyler thought, quite attractive. All of them were unconscious—and all of them were braless!

Some were completely bare naked above the waist, others still had unbuttoned blouses or hiked up dresses, but the floor was littered with brassieres and other clothing.

EMT and police offers were going seat by seat, gently carrying the women onto hospital gurneys, searching for each’s bra to bring with them. Schuyler guessed they were being taken to Syracuse General to be checked out. She could still detect the faint smell of knockout gas. She had paid for college with a ROTC scholarship, so she recognized chemical weapons.

Schuyler simply stared and drank in the seemingly absurd scene. Sleeping women in all kinds of positions: on the floor: sprawled on chairs, leaning heads back, wherever they had been caught in, when the powerful sleeping gas had poured in and knocked them out.

She then noticed there was a small group of officers on the other side of the auditorium. Schuyler saw they were in front of three women, each laying side-by-side on a table. From long distance, it looked like each woman had two traffic cones on top of their chest That seemed strange, but each woman definitely had two huge pointy things thrusting from the top of their upper body.

Yep, Dolan was right, this was certainly super bizarre.

Schuyler saw a man frantically waving her over there, she guessed that was Dolan, and went over to the group, careful not to step on some braless girl sprawled out on the floor.

“Dr. Schuyler, thank you so much for coming so quickly, I’m Chief Dolan but you can call me Frank,” the main with many bars on his uniform said.

“And please call me Liz, no one calls me Dr. Schuyler, unless the dean is calling me on the loudspeaker to chew me out for something,” she said. “So, as a two-time National Behavior Psychologist of the Year, I must ask: What the fuck is this?”

“We’re hoping you can tell us,” said Dolan. “These are the facts as we know it.:

At 10:09 a.m., we received a 911 call saying this was the station manager and someone was trying to lull the staff of WFEM into a trance at a meeting. We then received a similar call at 10:17 a.m., saying women were acting strange, and starting to take off clothing, at what was supposed to be a meeting with a motivational speaker from the national network.

“We got here about 10:22 a.m. No one was answering phone calls to the station or knocks on the door. We tried the two numbers that called 911, no answer from either. I decided to send in Sergeant Millicent, a really solid female officer in our division, to go inside and investigate. With a report women were taking clothing off, you know these days, you have to be careful.

“For 10 minutes we heard nothing. Then, Sergeant Millicent called in and said it was a simple mandatory relaxation exercise the network wants them to start doing, and some women got fussy about it. There was no problem, and we could leave. OK, fine, great. But when I asked Millicent if she was coming out, she paused, and said no, this looked interesting and she would stay, and catch up with us later.

‘This was quite strange behavior for her. She is a by-the-book officer, and she would never just take off during a shift to watch a relaxation exercise. Oh, that’s her right over there.”

Schuyler looked to her right and saw two women laying on the floor, both deeply asleep. One was a trim, attractive blonde in an extremely expensive suit. The other was an obviously very fit brunette in a police uniform. Well, half of it, as she was completely nude from the waist up.

“Shit, they got her too, and quickly, I guess, based on what you told me, and my whole two minutes of experience here,” said Schuyler.

“Yup,” said Dolan. “And this was my fear. I had little information to base it on, but I went with my gut. If it really was the station manager who called in, and they were pleading for assistance, I felt we needed a quick resolution.

“So I ordered the chemical squad to load up and pump the area full of isoflurane, that is a very strong form of knockout gas. I figured, put everyone to sleep and figure things out later. As soon as I walked in here, I called you. You are the best-known expert in women’s mental conditions, and I know you are familiar with hypnosis..”

“Thank you for the compliment,” said Schuyler. “Now, my other question is, what is with these three-woman laid out on tables here? Why do they have oxygen masks on and, really, why does it look like they have twin torpedoes jutting out of their tops, where breasts are supposed to be?”

“Well, I think those are their breasts Liz (“Holy shit,” she replied) and that is another reason why I asked you here. Millicent was our unit’s only female member and, I’ve told the guys to be very careful, but it would help for a female to examine them.”

“OK,” said Schuyler, who knew it was not the time to get into a debate why the top police unit in Syracuse had only one woman on it, Dolan was obviously seeking her help.

“First thing we need to find out is, who are these three women?” said Dolan. “None had any ID on them.”

Schuyler took her first, good close look at the trio of unconscious women. First, all three were ridiculously hot looking. If I was a lesbian, I do any one of them, thought Liz.

One was a tall, lanky brunette who looked in her mid-20s. The one in the middle was a blonde with a curvy figure, who appeared to have perfect eggshell skin. She looked like she could be anywhere from her mid-20s on up, it was hard to tell. The one on the far side was an older woman, maybe 40, but very thin and in a well-styled suit, with her long blonde hair in a tight bun.

And all had perfectly erect, conical breasts of massive size.

“I know them all,” said Schuyler. “I am a regular watcher of the WFEM news.”

“You are?” said Dolan.

Liz laughed.

“I am a 37-year-old, twice divorced, female college professor,” she said. “Of course, I watch the all-female news. I am like their top demographic.

“The one over there is Tanya Barry, she is the station manager. She has these awesome editorials where she just rips the establishment apart. Love her. The blonde in the middle is Tracee Davis. She looks like she’s 25 but she’s been here forever. I remember watching her in high school. She does the morning news, always wake up to her. She’s great. Takes no shit.

“The girl right here is the sports woman. Her name is Jennifer but that’s all I know. Not a big sports fan, sort of tune the show out when she is on.”

“That is very helpful,” said Dolan. “The first call came from someone identifying as the station manager, and the second call, the woman said she was the sports director. So, two of the three people trying to stop whatever it was, are right here.”

“Makes sense, but why are they not being brought to the hospital like the rest, and why do they have gas masks?” asked Liz.

“Well, they were in these contraptions, when we came in,” said Dolan.

Dolan pointed to three large pods about 15 feet away. They were red with clear acrylic tops, now popped open.

“They were encased in these, each in their own pod. They were also out cold, but we figured they might have avoided the worst of the gas being in them, so we cracked them open, carried their bodies to here, and are giving them pure oxygen. We’re hoping they will wake up quickly, so we can find out what exactly happened here.”

“Shit, I’ve seen those things when I was in ROTC in my history class,” said Schuyler. “I was in the psychological unit, and we called them ‘Soviet enslaving pods’. They were used by the KGB at the height of the Cold War to get defectors back under control. Frank, this is getting weirder and weirder.”

“My immediate theory: these three somehow fought the mind control, which was strong enough for all the other women to succumb to it,” said Dolan. “And they were then rendered unconscious and stowed in these pods. Probably going to be shipped somewhere for further programming.”

“I agree, based on my now five minutes of observation,” said Liz. “Looking at the scene, everyone here was seated except for the guy at the front, probably the controller, these three in pods, the ones who fought back, and the two women laying next to us. My guess, the controller’s assistant and sorry Frank, Officer Millicent turning into his new assistant.”

“Brilliant, that makes perfect sense out of this mess,” said Dolan. “So glad you are here.

“But the big question I have is? Why these three? Why did everyone else, including a very mentally tough police officer, quickly crumble, but these three women didn’t. The only thing they have in common is, they all have massive breasts.”

Schuyler just gave a shrug.

“Well, as far as I know, having a huge set of knockers does not provide any sort of protection from an invasive mind control technique,” said Liz. “And here is something that is also weird, these women all work at different times of the day. Tracee works from 4 to 7 a.m. and, being management, I assume Tanya is 9 to 5 and the first sports report does not come on until 5:30 p.m., I know because that is when I go heat up my dinner.

“On a normal workday, there is a good chance these three never even see each other.”

Liz then looked at Jennifer and the tight sweater she was encased in. She closely looked at her breasts, going up and down in a steady fashion, as she breathed through the mask pumping oxygen inter her.

“Holy crap on a cracker!,” she exclaimed.

She indicated the men should move away. Liz took the bottom of Jennifer’s sweater and pulled it up. She peeked inside Jennifer’s top and her eyes bugged out from what she saw. She then moved on and looked inside the top of Tracee’s short black dress and was equally shocked. Liz then unbuttoned a couple of buttons on Tanya’s blouse and stuck her face inside her chest.

Liz turned to the men like she had seen an alien.

“What is up,” said Dolan.

“All three women have perfectly formed breasts, not a bit of sag, and all of them are at least 44 double F’s,” she said shakily. “But none of them are wearing a bra. This is like … impossible.”

A young officer then raised his hand.

“Chief, um, I know you said to be very careful when taking them out of those pods, but, when we were lifting her (pointing to Jennifer), her sweater rolled up a little. We put it down quickly, we saw nothing improper, but this is probably something the doctor should see.”

“OK, go ahead, if it helps the investigation,” said Dolan.

The officer went up to the three women lying next to each other, the only sound their breathing into the oxygen masks. He gently moved up Jennifer’s sweater to just blow the breastbone. Everyone stared at the sight.

“I work on the side as a personal trainer, and that is the most best six-pack I have ever seen on someone not a professional bodybuilder,” commented one of the officers.

Jennifer’s stomach was perfectly well-muscled. Each muscle in the six-pack well defined and popping up, almost like a cartoon of a muscular superhero.

Liz then held up her hand. She went to Tracee and moved up her dress. Her stomach was not a six-pack, but it was obviously headed that way. The lines of muscular definition were there, and very well-toned, there was obviously not an ounce of fat anywhere. In a few months, Tracee would probably sport the same sixpack as Jennifer’s.

Tanya was in a suit, but Liz was able to get her blouse shifted to see her stomach. She had a washboard stomach but not near a six-pack like the other two . However, she obviously she was quite fit.

“This is like a butterfly,” said Dolan. “You have the larva (pointing at Tanya), the pupa (looking at Tracee) and then the adult in full bloom with an amazing six-pack in Jennifer.”

“To be able to not wear a bra and have no sag, they must all work out like fiends,” said Liz. “And yet, like you said, they have nothing else really in common, except they work at the same place. They work at different times and even in different departments.”

“We are missing something,” said Dolan. “It’s almost like they are so different, it must mean something. One is here in the morning, one during the day and the other at night. Almost like its planned. One of them is always here at some point.

“I don’t know why, but we are going to find out. Liz, I am appointing you a special advisor to the police for this case. Me and you are going to investigate.”

“OK, let’s go,” said Liz.

Since there was not much that could be accomplished until one of the women woke up, Liz went to the station’s lunchroom. She was in desperate need of a cup of coffee, even the awful vending machine version.

As she stirred the cream in, she saw a young man sitting at a table. He was fairly tall, in pretty good shape and, frankly, not bad looking.

“Excuse me sir, but this is the site of an active police investigation, and since you are a man, I know you are not an employee here,” said Liz, who got a kick out of now being, sort of, a part of the police.

The young man’s eyes widened a bit, and he went up to her.

“It is?,” he said. “I don’t know anything. My name is Steven. I am an intern here, so I am not a paid employee, so I can be here. I was told there was a mandatory meeting for all station employees at 10, but it should be finished by noon, so I could come back then and finish my duties But no one is letting me in.”

“Oh,” said Liz. “Well, I don’t think you will be allowed back to the newsroom for a while. At that 10 a.m. meeting there was, what we’re calling an attempted mass enslavement episode. We are waiting for three women, the station manager, morning news anchor and sports director, to wake up so we can get details. Apparently, they were the only ones able to combat the mind control.”

“Wow,” said Steven, who was genuinely surprised, trying to control every woman in the station was way above his ambitions. “How are they? I intern for Tracee now and last semester I interned for Jennifer. And Tanya has been so great with me, even though I am a man, at an all-women station.

“Are they OK officer?”

“Yes, they have been checked out and all are in fine condition, just in an unconscious state right now,” she said. “And I am not an officer. I’m Liz Schuyler from State, the police have asked me to help with the investigation.”

“Wait!,” exclaimed Steven. “Are you Dr. Elizabeth Schuyler? I was an intern for Dr. Stephanie Schmidt last year. She spoke so highly of you. She said she throws all other research on women and hypnosis into the dumpster, except yours. She always said, ‘Schuyler is the only one I respect; the rest are just crap’.

“Oh, my goodness, really?,” said Liz. “Dr. Schmidt is like a goddess to me. I encouraged all my female students to read her, and so many of my students try to follow her ‘Sex Led Life’, I have several in hypnosis therapy because they went a bit overboard.”

“I know you are busy with all this, sounds mysterious, any theories?” asked Steven, hoping Liz did not figure out the reason Steven was surmising the three repelled being entranced.

“Well, obviously we are just starting but, first thought, based on past studies and personal observation, is that these three women were already under the sway of a powerful mind controller,” said Liz, as she gulped her coffee. “You can’t take over the mind of someone who has already lost control of it.”

“Interesting,” said Steven, who was thinking to himself ‘Shit, she figured it out, she is really good, like Steffi said’.

“And there are other theories, maybe they have incredible will power, some medical condition that stopped it, or they have dominant relationships with a partner and reject any suggestions where they are not in control. Me and Chief Dolan will figure it out.”

“I am sure you will,” said Steven. “Hey, when you are done here, could we meet and like go over your theories, and how your students are using Dr. Schmidt’s theories. I love academic conversations and you are like the only one I can have it with on this subject. And I am sure Dr. Schmidt would kill me if I told her I ran into the great Elizabeth Schuyler and did not get a chance to pick your brain.”

Liz was not sure if Steven was coming on to her, she doubted it (she instantly thought of 20 sexy co-eds in her classes who would jump his bones in a second), or genuine intellectual curiosity. Since she was looking at a dinner of yesterday’s chicken parm, she was good with it, either way.

“Absolutely, to talk with Dt. Stephanie Schmidt’s intern will be a fun time,” said Liz. “Give me your phone number and I will let you know when I’m done here.”