The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It started as a tingle in the back of Deanna’s head, like someone was scratching an itch she didn’t even know she had. A bony fingernail crept behind her and pulled her down, down, down... plunging her conscious and subconscious self into an alternate dimension where everything was both familiar and alien.

She was on a stage, like any other stage from her hypnosis show’s tours, a square with reflective panels on the floor, bright headlights above, and an array of speakers strategically placed all around to ensure her warm, yet soothing voice reached every corner of the room.

Deanna now wore a dark red dress that, even though hugged her curves perfectly, lacked the provocative cut of past attires. She recognized a couple of faces in the audience, including her most recent acquaintances, but everyone else was either a blur or an upside down smile with nothing else to show for, save for one. It was her rabid fan turned stalker, holding a poster with a bloody heart and the words ‘I love you,’ written in black underneath.

“Of course, you had to be here,” she thought, a part of her still aware that what she was seeing was but a projection of distorted memories given a new opportunity to haunt her. Before she could ask for volunteers for the act that was to follow, he was already standing up and walking down the indistinct rows of imagination until they were face to face in a creepy staring contest.

Before he was forever associated with the word “monster” inside her head, he had introduced himself as “Benny”. Whether that was an actual short for Benjamin or a friendly nickname given to him by his friends, she did not know. It was the time of doing small gigs for cash, and a company’s birthday party was as good as anything else. “Benny” loved the way she fiddled with the minds of everyone present while she loved the entertainment itself. Two hours later, she got paid and moved on to something else, never expecting to encounter any of those people again. How wrong she was!

“Benny” appeared again in the front row of her first show in Tampa, cheering her on every time she snapped her fingers, and a hypnotic fantasy came to life. The following night, he was there again, sitting almost at the spot and wearing the same clothes, too. Two attendances weren’t enough to form a recognizable pattern, but that changed right after. New city, new state, new venues, yet he still kept coming, grinning like an infant that had discovered his first crush. From there to the teetering walkways of inescapable obsession was a small step that she wished she had seen earlier.

He continued to show up for weeks and months in a row. In the beginning, he kept mostly to himself, not looking for any kind of interaction other than an occasional glance. His excitement appeared genuine and perfect. One day, he had a box of chocolates delivered to her dressing-room after the show, followed by some flowers with a note. The first declaration of undying love came with an envelope full of money, and then the escalation became unstoppable. Each present was poisonous, and every refusal of hers an invitation to violence. “Benny” was so desperate to hold on to his fantasy relationship with her that not even a restraining order kept him away. The last time she ever saw him for real, he was being dragged into the back of a police car, and his once amenable face had transformed into a mask of seething resentment and pain, an atomic bomb waiting for the mushroom cloud.

“Oh, how I missed you so much, Dee,” he said.

“You’re not here,” Deanna looked down at the unnerving ghost, “and neither am I.”

“I’m always here. I’m always with you. We belong to one another. You know this is true.”

“I know you’re just a by-product of my head, the drugs in the hypnotic lipstick flowing through my bloodstream and messing with my brain. You’ve left my life ages ago and I’m over your twisted delusions. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“How can you be over me if I’m still standing before you?” ‘Benny’ asked. Everything about his face and body screamed ‘average’. The dark-haired accountant with brown eyes and small lips was the type of person who, when silent, could easily blend in anywhere without no one noticing, yet when he tried to smile and his bifurcated tongue spewed its lies, the facade couldn’t be sustained for long. “The only illusion here is believing anything other than the designs of Fate which made possible for us to meet and find our purpose. You’re the one, Deanna. You’ve always been the one. My passion, my desire, my soulmate. I love you more than anyone has ever loved another before. Your eyes, your eyes, and your body breathe life into my dark heart. Why do you deny the essence that binds us? Why do you not see the truth the way I do?”

“If I ever saw what you wanted me to see, I would be just like you. You can’t confuse me if I choose not to. Picking up pieces of my brain and trying to make them fit your sick narrative will not work, Gloria!”

“There’s no Gloria here. It’s just you and I and our unfinished business. You turned me down, got me arrested and subjected to ‘addiction therapy’ simply because you couldn’t accept your feelings for me were as strong as mine. It was a cowards’ move, a pathetic display of your so-called strength, but I forgive you, Deanna. I forgive you so we can finally have the chance to express ourselves, a chance we’ve denied for so long.”

“You forgive me?” she scoffed.

“Yes, and I accept your erratic nature just the way it is if you accept me back, here and now. No one can see us or judge us. We can be perfect again.”

“Spare me. I already am,” Deanna declared, and the oniric audience sighed in unison, suspended in what she was about to say next. “I’m content with myself, with my flaws, and my memories, especially the bad. I’m at peace with my fears and that’s why you can’t use them against me, drugged or not. I get it, Gloria. I get that’s how you push deep inside a person’s psyche until it breaks. I understand why terror is such a fascinating weapon for you, but I’m not scared, and I don’t consent to have your ghosts roam around. No matter how much you try, I’ll hold my ground and when I wake up, you’ll see just how wrong everything you believe in is.”

“Stop calling me Gloria!”

“Then stop wearing another person’s skin while inside my head! Don’t hide behind a mask and face me.”

“You’re no fun,” the thing that posed as ‘Benny’ cackled and became a spitting copy of Denise instead. “How about I go with this one, then?”

Half of the lights above the stage dimmed one by one, darkness encroaching on the corners of her mind. “What is this nonsense now?”

“It’s not nonsense. You’ve just met this girl, she’s absolutely nothing to you, and yet you offered her your protection. That’s what you said, wasn’t it? That you would protect her from me and save her friends while you were at it? Why are you so keen on doing this? Why do you want to save a stranger so much?”

“She asked for help and it was in grave distress when I found her, thanks to you. Only someone totally devoid of empathy would refuse to lend a hand.”

“Ah, but lending a hand isn’t the same as proclaiming yourself a savior... you could have taken her to a hospital; you could have called the police and let them handle this situation; you could have done so many other things besides playing with the idea that only you could sort this. You accuse me of playing the role of a false goddess and yet aren’t you doing something similar? What complex drives you, huh?”

“There’s no complex, Gloria. Stop trying to undermine my good intentions.”

“I’ll do that the moment you stop lying to yourself. Just like your shows, this attitude of yours is yet another illusion. Let me tell you why you’re really here right now instead of letting others take care of business. You’re doing it because of your latent guilt, because you failed to see what was happening to ‘Benny’ and he became such a living nightmare in the end. No matter how many times you say it, you can never be truly at peace for, even though he was the one that hurt you, you feel a hint of sorrow for letting things get so out of hand. Ever since then, you’ve been plagued by this almost pathological desire to fix any injustice you come across, no matter how dangerous the situation becomes for you. You’re not really worried about Denise or the others—you don’t know them! This is a mere excuse for an atonement that will never come.”

“A lot of words, and yet none that speak the truth. Give up already!”

Even more lights went down, embracing the dreadful gloom. Denise’s visage slowly took over the background, replicated into a thousand living displays of agony. A mortifying scream pierced the conscious barrier for a moment, turning her perceptions into something truly terrifying.

“This is what’s happening to her as I take over her thoughts. You promised to be there for her, but you failed. You fucked up with your own delusions of grandeur, and now she will suffer even more than what would have happened if she didn’t believe you. How does it feel, Deanna? To be a beacon of hope in a moment and the true harbinger of destruction in the next? What will come to be is all on you now. You couldn’t stop ‘Benny’ from becoming a monster, and you won’t stop Denise’s transformation into my loyal and obedient drone, either. Enjoy the show. I’m more than happy to have it play for you on repeat.”

The last remaining lights disappeared from view, nothing but pulsating shadows remaining. The reflective panels of the stage died at her feet. Thousands of blank eyes looked at her from beyond the abyss, all of them shouting the same disturbing lies:

“You did this.”

“This is all your fault.”

“You can’t save anyone, you just make everything worse!”

“Might as well give up now and accept what a failure you are.”

“If you surrender, you’ll never fuck up again.”

“No one else should have to suffer for your mistakes.”

“Give in.”

“Give in now.”

“There’s still time to make the pain at least somewhat bearable.”

“Surrender to Gloria.”

“Surrender now.”

The voices reverberating inside the blackness of her thoughts were a mix of Denise’s and her own. The closer they were, the more distorted they sounded, trying to crush her skull with the weight of dementia. One crack and they would become stronger, leeching off her resistance until it withered and died. The negative brainwashing continued its relentless attempt of destruction...

“You are not a savior.”

“You are a fraud through and through.”

“Let this truth consume you whole.”

“SURRENDER!”

“No.” Deanna closed her inner eyes to the darkening void, her brain firing rapidly in all directions. “No!” she repeated, her heart aglow, lit by the most powerful weapon of all: free will. The mistakes of the past could be forgotten, but not reversed; nothing would change what she had gone through. It was that clear realization that gave her the strength to fight for what was right and hold on to what made her real. “No, Gloria! I will not become another useless character in your novel of hypnotic horrors. This isn’t real! I only allow my own thoughts inside my head. Begone, you crazy witch, and take your maddening conspiracies with you! I am what I am and that’s what I’ll remain. You’re just a parasite! Fuck off!”

Deanna opened her mouth and screamed, shattering the doomed stage and purging all ghastly manifestations from within. She was still herself and would forever remain so. The Battle for Sanity had been won.

Back in the real world, the sounds and smells of the restaurant returned to her, the emptiness and despair replaced with radiating hope. Deanna touched her face.

“That’s impossible!” Gloria exclaimed.

“Think again, bitch!” Deanna said in reply, breaking free from the hallucinatory stupor she had tried to trap her in. It was the boost she needed to put her adversary in her proper place. The tables were finally turning and the only path left led to deliverance. No more kisses for her.