The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Haley soon discovered the erotic uses and limits of her abilities. On several occasions she grappled with a boy; less out of desire for him than because she felt that her age demanded some sexual experience, if not competence. Her first boy was named Andy, a tall, earnest scholar. Andy was very keen on Haley, and although she liked him well enough, it wasn’t the kind of heart-thumping romantic love she hoped for. But when he asked her out to go ice skating, she thought, “Well, as well him as anyone.” They skated—he was quite good, and taught her how to turn and skate backwards, holding her hand and waist as they manoeuvred around the rink.

That evening they walked back to his house, a pretty listed stone cottage in the old part of town. Andy’s parents were home, so he and Haley went to the old barn behind the house, where his father’s antique Bentley was kept under a cover. They leaned back against the smooth canvas, and talked of nothings. She was wondering if he would make a move. But then he bent down to her, looked her in the eyes for a moment, and brought his lips against hers. They kissed gently at first, then with increasing force, and they they were locked in each others’ arms, kissing and kissing. Haley’s anxiety evaporated in a haze of sweetness. Andy pressed her against the side of the Bentley, and she could feel his erection through their clothes. He clumsily fondled her breast. She dragged her mouth away from his to gasp, “Let’s get into the car.”

Andy whipped the canvas from the car and opened the rear door. As they climbed in, a line from Hamlet crazily went through Haley’s mind: “He opened wide the door / Let in the maid / who out a maid / never departed more.” There was more kissing, and then they were fumbling with buttons and belts. Hardly a word was said. They both knew what they wanted. Haley lay under him: “Oh gently, Andy, gently... I’m a virgin... Ah... ow! No, don’t stop, press on. Just slowly. There. Ah. Ouch. Slowly. It hurts, but it’s nice too. Please, slowly.” He could hardly control himself. She had to press his thigh to hold him back.

She couldn’t resist having a peek at his mind. The panorama of lights and images opened to her. His mind was racing with energy, chaotic with sexual excitement. There were flashing images of her, of them, of sex scenes he remembered from the Internet, of other girls he fantasised about, an idealised imagining of her cunt, a transparent image of his cock inside her. She saw aspects of his consciousness as turning geometrical shapes of glowing colour, and strange organs connected by filaments and tubes, pulsing with power. Patches of red mist blew through the swirling confusion. She could hear her own little cries, mixed with snatches of pop songs and voices murmuring. He was thrusting faster at her now, and she felt the pressure building in his mind, and she knew that he would come soon. But she didn’t want that, she wasn’t ready for him to ejaculate and finish. His hasty thrusting was hurting her. She wanted to take her time, to learn to enjoy it. She needed to slow this down. Then she saw something, a small red oval like a pumping heart, driving streamers of pink mist toward the shapes around it, and she knew that it was the seat of his sexual energy. Haley moved toward it—she had no body here, only a point of view – and somehow she knew what to do. She reached out with imaginary hands and squeezed. The red oval resisted the pressure, then shrank a little, and its pumping slowed. The streamers of pink mist lessened but did not stop. She felt Andy’s frantic thrusts against her slow down. His gasping breath became regular. He still pressed into her, but at a measured pace.

She withdrew her mind from his, with a sensation like surfacing from a dive. Tendrils of red mist seemed to cling to her, and she found that his ardour had stimulated hers. She clutched him to her, and gripped him with the muscles of her warm core, and felt herself grow wetter as she pulled him deep inside. It felt lovely, and for a few moments the pleasure built. But then her enthusiasm made him catch fire as well. He grew frantic, and gasped, and throbbed within her, and then quickly softened and withdrew, leaving her stranded.

Andy seemed very pleased with himself, and with what they had done. Haley concealed her disappointment. “Is that all there is to it?” she thought. She made her excuses and hurried home, to shower and take measures to avoid pregnancy. It had been an interesting experience that she was in no hurry to repeat. Andy found her door closed to him in the weeks that followed. Haley was romantic at heart. She was glad to be rid of her virginity, but she could wait for love.

In her final year, Haley took a fancy to Ian, the star athlete of the school football team. Half the girls in the school wanted Ian, and he never would have even spoken to Haley if they had not been lab partners in Chemistry. She did her best to charm him, but he was dating the Head Girl and didn’t move beyond small talk with Haley. “How come I never see you with a boyfriend?” he said to her one day. “You’re, you know, good-looking enough, why aren’t they queuing up to ask you out?”

She was tempted to say “Because there’s a rumour that I am a mind-reader” but suppressed the impulse. Flirtatiously she replied “Oh I don’t know. Why aren’t big tall footballers asking me out?”

He grinned. “Probably because they are already going out with Andrea.”

“I can fix that” she thought. “Just this once. It can’t do any harm.” She knew it was wrong, but... Haley reached inside his mind, searching though the jumble of lights and moving forms—like a Calder mobile in a high wind—until she saw something she could identify. There was a softly pulsating red ellipse that she knew represented his erotic attachment. An extrusion joined it to a cloudy form, a melange of images of Andrea: talking, walking, studying, and lying in bed smiling up at Ian. Haley sought and found Ian’s gestalt of herself: it was a shifting kaleidoscope of images, like a photo album slideshow. She was surprised at how pretty she looked. There was even an image of her naked in the shower; “He’s had an erotic fantasy of me! The silly boy,” she thought. She smoothed and shaped the red ellipse until one corner of it adhered to Ian’s gestalt of her. The whole process took seconds.

Ian looked a little confused and his face reddened. “I, um, the thing is... Well, actually we could go out. You and I. If you’d like to. I’ve got the car tonight, and I could take you out... to dinner. I know a country pub that serves really good Thai food. Please say yes.”

She smiled up at him. “OK, Ian. I’d like that. And maybe we shouldn’t say anything to Andrea about this. You never know what may happen.”

During the school day Haley encountered Ian several times in the halls, and he always stopped to talk with her, his eyes shining. After her last class she found him waiting for her in the corridor. “Let’s go somewhere and talk,” he said with a smile. “We can make plans.” They walked to the empty auditorium, and into the dim backstage area. There were high curtains and ropes, and dusty control panels, and a pile of rugs and costumes from one of the student shows. They sat on the rugs, and talked a little. “I don’t know why I never talked like this with you before,” he said. “You’re so pretty, and clever—just the sort of girl I’ve always wanted to be friends with.”

Haley laughed and tossed her head. “Oh thank you. Thank you. But why didn’t you notice me? I’ve been right under your nose all the time.”

“I’ve been too distracted. By football, and by... by... um... Andrea. But I that’s over now. I just want to be with you.” And he put a great paw around her, and pulled her to him, and kissed her.

Haley hadn’t expected a result so quickly, but she kissed him back enthusiastically. The kiss was gentle at first, just brushing lips, but quickly grew more heated. Ian slipped a hand under her blouse, to fondle her breasts, and she felt her rebel body responding to him. When he fingered her between the legs he found a patch of dampness already on her knickers. He quickly unbuttoned her blouse, and pushed her back onto the soft rugs, so that he could kiss her breasts, tonguing the pink flat nipples into sensitive thimbles. Haley sighed and arched up against him.

In a few minutes his trousers were around his knees, her knickers were on one ankle, and his fingers were sliding around her swollen honey-bud. She moaned, and pulled him on top of her, and opened her legs to receive him. “Oh, yes, Ian, yes, do me please,” she cried. He thrust down into her, gently at first, and then with more force, and she thought that it felt utterly beautiful.

Then suddenly there was a crash as the fire doors slammed open, and Andrea and her posse strode in. The overhead lights blazed on. Haley was dazzled. Ian leapt to his feet and shouted “Who are you? What are you doing? Get out of here!”

“Ian, look at me. It’s me. Andrea. Your girlfriend. You’ve been going out with me for a year. What are you doing with this little tart?”

Ian stared at Andrea. He gave a start, as something visibly clicked into place. “Andrea. Yes. Of course. I... What am I doing here? Haley?”

Haley was trying to button her blouse and smooth down her skirt at the same time. “Ian, I’m sorry, I just wanted... wanted to...”

“I’ll tell you what she wanted!” shouted Andrea. “She’s a witch! One of those psychics! She wanted to make you her slave! Who knows what they do to people?” Andrea advanced on Haley. Andrea was stylishly tall and heavy-boned, and a beauty by the standards of the time. She outweighed little Haley by 10 kilos or more. She began to strike Haley wildly. She grabbed Haley’s thick blonde hair and pulled, shouting imprecations. Haley panicked. She couldn’t free herself from Andrea’s grip. She reached into Andrea’s mind—it was seething with violent anger—and found the rotating wheel of Andrea’s volition, and gripped it, bringing it to a halt. Instantly Andrea released her hold on Haley. She stood, breathing heavily, with her jaw dropped, staring vacantly at Haley. For a long moment nobody moved, then Ian said, “Andrea? Andrea! Are you OK?” But Andrea didn’t speak. One of Andrea’s friends exclaimed “Oh my God, she’s done something to her. It’s true! She’s bewitched her.”

Haley released her grip on Andrea’s will, and turned and ran. She didn’t stop running until she reached home. For three days she was afraid to return to school, so she convinced her mother that she was ill. She lay in bed, wishing she had never been born with such unwelcome gifts. On the third day, the postman brought Haley her ticket out: a letter of admission to Cambridge. She felt as though she had been reprieved.