The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Timothy Harris was the last by-product of a long lineage of foul-mouthed losers that thought too highly of themselves. Born and raised in Beverly Hills, the only thing the five feet nine blond aspiring NFL star had going on for him was his father’s money, a fortune estimated in one hundred million dollars, although no one knew for sure. He had grown in his private bubble, surrounded by luxuries common mortals only dared to dream, and it was no wonder he saw pretty much everyone else around as peasants that had to conform to his eschewed way of thinking. For him, there was nothing money couldn’t buy and anyone that said otherwise just didn’t have enough zeroes on their bank account. Far from the sharpest pencil in the box, people often expected him to fail at the most basic of things like pursuing a worthy education but if there was one thing no one saw coming was that he was destined to become a teacher’s pet. Literally.

Gloria sat on his naked back inside her private office at Wilmington College. The door was locked, the blinds shut, and the only person aware of the imbalance of power taking place was her. With vitreous eyes, stiff members, and the back of his neck covered in mesmerizing crimson lipstick impressions, the wannabe “King of Sports” was fulfilling his natural role of furniture without a care in the world, just like she wanted.

The kissing hypnotist had seen right through him the moment he first entered her class and spent more time checking her ass than taking notes. This continued for weeks until the day she had him stick around after class to listen to the one truth he would never admit without a bit of... persuasion.

“Let me clear, Timothy. With the way you’ve currently been acting, you are going to fail at my discipline.” She began. “Now, I know you think this is not a big deal given your family history and all, but it’s not your family’s future that’s at stake, here. It’s yours. Failing here is sure to be just the beginning of a catastrophic series of blunders and while other teachers perhaps aren’t so bold to tell you this to your face, I am. You are nothing but a loser! Now, are you going to prove me wrong and turn your behavior around, or do you wish me to drill in your head just how pathetic and worthless you really are?”

“You have such pretty lips I’d rather have you suck my cock, teacher. Do I need to pay you for that or you’re cheap enough to do it for free?” He had responded with the most obnoxious of grins decorating his sleazy mouth.

“You think I’m fooling with you?”

“If you really wanted to do that, you’d be on your knees right now. Are we doing this or not? I have my driver pick me up in ten!”

“Your driver will have to wait, and so will your mind.” She retorted, picking up the lipstick tube.

They say you never forget the first taste of a hypnotic woman’s control, yet he forgot the first, the second, the third... For all she cared, he could forget everything as long as his manners improved. It had taken its sweet time, but he was almost ready. Too bad she was bored.

Training a new pet was exhilarating the first couple of times, but that was before the threat of routines became a reality, the same old ingrained patterns sucking all the fun out of everything. Yes, the narcissistic sophomore was a perfect stool now and could easily become a coat-hanger, a punching bag or a carpet to wipe her muddy boots on, yet he would remain always unworthy of her, one more drone for her beautiful lips with nothing of notice to set him apart.

Unless he had company.

Yes, that could make the late Friday afternoon more bearable, and she knew just who to put under once more. At a snap of her fingers, the immobile seat became a horse, happily trotting away around the desk until she reached her leather purse. It was time to get Kabir back on the phone again.

The young writer was in the middle of the most frustrating staring contest against a blank screen when his cell rang. At first, he ignored it, solely focused on getting that first sentence right, from which the complete story he had already mapped twice on his head would emerge like a victorious phoenix. Then, as the realization that the ever-increasing call of reality would not go away, he glanced at the black display, saw Gloria’s name pop up and instinctively shuddered, unsure why.

“Strange.” He muttered, but nothing except the worn-out laptop keys heard his whimper. He liked Gloria. She could be eccentric, but she was still good company. As far as he remembered, they hadn’t spoken since the now infamous hypnotic gathering, so why didn’t he want to talk to her now?

Pushing the phone away, he returned to the empty screen of death, the place where all unused concepts eventually came to die. Few things in life were more frustrating than knowing deep inside how to get something done and then stumble upon the refusal of both fingers and imagination to comply. He hated it, almost as much as having the courage to share his entrancing desires with the ones he called friends, only to be rejected out of vague accusations of creepiness.

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps that was the lingering realization that was keeping him away from wanting to engage in civil conversation with her. He was still hurt, more than ego would have him say, so silence was the best option. Ignore her until his thoughts were quieter once more.

Except he couldn’t. The call was insistent, an underlying alien need rising from within it. He looked at the phone again and then at the computer, the two contrasting screens dying to make their dissonant narrative heard. The unknown black and the incomplete white clashing to form a gray wave of uncertainty. He flipped between them, his thoughts crawling. Since he couldn’t get any pleasant words out, perhaps talking to her wouldn’t be so bad. Antsy fingers touched the phone, the distance between them was shattered and then he immediately regretted himself.

“Hello, Kabir. How are you?” The Chemistry teacher purred.

“What do you want, Gloria? To make fun of my taste for hypnosis again?”

“Much to the contrary, dear. I love that you love hypnosis so much, but I love it even more when you remember who you really are.”

“What’s that supp...?”

“Feel my kiss on your lips and sleep, Kabir. Sleep. I want to talk to my slave, now.”

“Yes, Goddess.” He mumbled, blankness taking over from head to toe.

“How are the preparations for the birthday party going?”

“Natasha and Belinda are on it. Everything is according to planned. It will be a celebration like no other.”

“I expect nothing else.” Gloria smirked, adjusting herself on her eager mount. “After all, what is your purpose in life?”

“To serve and entertain you in any way you wish.”

“Exactly, which is why I have a job for you. If you had any plans, consider them off.”

“Yes, Goddess. What will you have me do?”

“I want you to meet someone. I’ll be home in half an hour. Meet me there. You don’t want to let me down.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

The call went dead, and so did the last remnants of free will swirling in his mind. Across town. Gloria heard the first chords of true dominant frenzy play out and grinned.

Despite having a few slaves under her control, many of which would be more than happy to help pay her bills, Gloria wasn’t a rich woman and her apartment reflected that. It only had one bedroom, one bathroom, and the kitchen area was so small it was almost non-existent. She hoped to move on to bigger and greener pastures soon but, only then, she had to keep her ambitions in check. The best thing about hypnotizing others to do her bidding though has had them believe in whatever she wanted, and if that meant conjuring a luxurious mental palace to play in, then that’s exactly what she would do.

When Kabir arrived at her place, precisely one minute before the deadline, he didn’t see the far-end wooden door in need of repair nor the graffiti-covered stairs leading to it but a gold and silver haven as opulent as her perfection. She was already inside, wearing a simple and devastating combo of white shirt with mid-size black PVC skirt, with slave Timothy waiting next to her, a leather spiked mask covering his face entirely as if he had sprung out of a horror movie to terrorize unwary victims. No other garments covered his muscles body. A shiny cock ring maintained his erection under control.

“You’re five minutes late, Kabir.” She immediately towered over him. “Do you think it’s wise to keep a deity waiting?”

“Forgive me, Goddess, but the traffic was atrocious. I...”

“I don’t care about your excuses.” She stretched out her left hand and demanded his adoration. “Kiss!”

The slave writer gently took her delicate fingers to his lips and shuddered with pleasure before she interrupted his worshiping ritual with another question.

“What do you think of my other pet’s outfit? I bet it would look superb on you, too.”

“It’s very nice.”

“Just nice? What a poor excuse of a word! Your imagination isn’t fired enough yet, it seems. This is Timothy, one of my students. He’s been serving me well for a while and even helped test run the hypnotic formula I used to break your mind. He’s never been that bright, but it’s not like he needs intelligence, anyway. And neither do you. You are a stupid little submissive toy, aren’t you?”

“I am whatever you wish me to be.” Kabir nodded.

“Strip. Clothes are for actual people, not slaves.”

Kabir complied, once more completely humiliated in her divine presence. Timothy had the bigger cock, but she knew he was better at using his and nothing better than a little competition to prove it.

“Let’s play a new game.” She said, relieving her blonde toy from the strain of the metal ring. “When I give the word, you too are to stroke as hard as you can, but he who comes first will have to eat his own load and the one of his opponent’s, too. He who lasts longer will get a kiss from me, the highest reward you can receive. Fun, isn’t it? I know you both agree. You are to be looking at me at all times while you jerk that pathetic thing between your legs. Assume your positions, slaves. Entertainment begins in 3, 2, 1...”

Timothy was the first to work his right hand, a hint of the brazenness that characterized his normal life shining through. He pumped with bravado, fearing not to become a helpless cum guzzler but not doing whatever it took to please her. Kneeling to his right, all thoughts warped in a puddle of feverish compliance, Kabir alternated between fast strokes and gentler ones, sinking deeper and deeper into the twisted contest she had created and whose rules could change. It would be quite the story if she allowed him to keep the memories afterward, but this little deviation was doomed to failure, too.

Unable to contain himself, Timothy exploded in sticky white and rejoiced.

“That was fast!” Gloria cackled like a mad queen on her imaginary resplendent throne. “Then again, you always are. Lap it all up and then suck off Kabir... unless you want that honor, dear.”

“I…” His lower lip trembled. He only wanted what she wanted, that was the way it was meant to be, but...

“Trying to resist again? It’s amazing how quickly you can still go back and forth when you hear something you don’t like. Anything for me, Kabir. Even if I change my mind, mid way. Do you want to give Timothy a blowjob for me, take on all that sweet, dripping jizz?”

Kabir stopped pumping, hands to the side, neck jerking upwards. No, he wanted to re... Obey! He needed to ru... Submit! If he tried hard enough, he could sn... Succumb! A kiss, anything for a kiss, anything for her... pet, toy, drone, object, sissy, slave! Complete destruction of individual traits to fit whatever twisted version of him she wanted to see. It was a cult, and she was his deity, presiding over the submissive mass that would never end.

Gloria grabbed him by the hair and kissed his forehead, the trophy he didn’t deserve, the seventh seal of hypnotic apocalypse. He crumbled next to the other human facsimile and drifted off into the depths of nothingness once more.

Two hours later, Both Timothy and Kabir woke up in their respective houses, lips still smeared by each other’s salty taste, unperturbed by the inexplicable passage of time. It was unlikely they would ever meet again, except in perverted dreams they would try to deny. Gloria’s collection had yet another video and they, one less piece of their soul. And while the first spent the rest of the night fantasizing about his redhead Chemistry teacher who he would love to fuck, the second was already subconsciously expecting the greatest clusterfuck of his life.

Paula’s birthday was tomorrow.