The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

This is the story of my first date with Violet, the most incredible woman I have ever met. I hope that from it you can receive the merest glimpse of the happiness that she has brought be every day of my life, since we met. ... northbound highway has been closed to one lane due to construction past 32nd street. If you’re commuting from out of town you may wish to find an alternate route, as it’s slowed to a crawl this lovely morning 8:30 AM. Why did I set my alarm? I didn’t have anything to do that day. No job interviews. The fridge was full, and there was no need to go shopping. I had done the laundry the laundry the day before. Maybe I was just trying to maintain a steady sleep schedule. I stood up from bed, and stretched, and groaned as I realized how humid it was already. For a mid-western state it was far too warm for that early in the morning. I decided it was time to take a shower.

As I turned on the water, I began to think about the previous night. I had invited a few women I knew online from the local dating scene to join me at my favorite coffee house, the Monster Cup. It was a badly named shop, but it was pretty accurate. Expensive as hell, but worth every penny. Ten dollars would get you a bottomless... anything. Latte, Espresso, Cappuccino, Tea, Hot Chocolate, you name it. I was hoping to meet up with one (or more) or the women and maybe head back to my studio apartment form a more intimate gathering. No such luck. The evening started quite slow when I arrived early at the Monster Cup, and none of the employees had yet arrived. It was a late night coffee house that didn’t open until 8pm, but it didn’t close until 3am. Too make it worse, Mark, the current barrista and self styled coffee nazi was late again, and I had to wait twenty minutes before he finally unlocked the doors. I had a cousin named Mark, and I hated him too.

Once inside the pervasive smell of smoke began to wash over me. They never changed the filters in smoke collectors, as if it mattered. Within an hour the smoke would be so think you wouldn’t be able to see 10 feet away. God forbid one of the patrons fell asleep on one of the pleather (faux leather) couches and dropped his cigarette. You wouldn’t know that the place was on fire until the flames were burning your ass. I paid for my coffee, and took a seat next to the biggest of the various televisions and waited some more for the first movie to begin.

Tonight was cult flick night and the movie du jour was Clockwork Orange. not one of my personal favorites but a standard for the house. The sound was turned off, and the subtitles were on as Type O Negative blared overhead, and by the time the film started for the third time, I decided to call it a night.

What a waste of an evening. By the time I got out of the shower it was 9:30, and I sat down at my computer to check and see what lame excuses awaited me in my email. It was the usual, “Have to work early to tomorrow, sorry I couldn’t make it. Maybe next time.” And the every lovely “My ex came over and I totally forgot about the time.”

A few hours and a couple sandwiches later I went downstairs to check my regular mail, fully expecting a load of junk. Instead I see my neighbor Violet slamming the row of mailboxes with a pillow from the common room sofa. Smiling, I stepped forward and poured on the charm.

“Violet, hold on. Is it stuck again?”

“Yeah. I hate these things. The landlord always promises he is going to fix them, and half a dozen other things around here, but the only time you see him is on rent day. Do you think you can get it open?”

“No promises.”

“Hey, I’ll owe you one.”

I looked at it closely and saw that her mailbox was quite full, and a few of the items were overly large for the box. Pushing in, I wiggled my finger through the iron grating on the front and pushed some of it further back into the box, and tugged sharply on the handle. With a rush the entire contents of the mailbox spill out onto the hardwood floor.

“Thanks Jerry.”

“No problem,” I said, as I leaned down to help her pick things up. I noticed a number of bills, a lingerie catalogue, and the culprit for the jamming of the box. A mass produced computer service offer the size of a small paperback. It promised 2 months free service, when anyone who could do simple math would realize 45 days does not equal two months on any calendar. You know the kind. I tapped her lightly on the arm with the box, and flashed it at her. She grabbed it angrily and threw it out the window like a Frisbee. It flew almost a hundred feet, before landing in the street. In front of a bread truck.

CRUNCH

“Nice arm.”

“College softball team,” she replied with pride.

“So... about that favor?”

“Yeah?” she asked warily.

“How about dinner Thursday?”

She sighed slightly, and bit her lip as she looked me over. We had originally met online as well, but slowed our communications when we both moved into the same building. Understandably she was somewhat wary about dating someone she lived near, in case things didn’t turn out well, and she was three doors down from a complete psychopath.

“I don’t know. I have to work early on Friday..”

“I understand.” That she was probably lying. She only worked part time while she attended school, and I was pretty sure she didn’t have any Friday classes, or even much work this week. She had worked overtime last week, and her boss usually decreased her hours the next week to keep her from becoming full time.

“Maybe some other time?” she offered.

“Yeah. Maybe,” In another life you mean.

The rest of the week went by rather slowly. More job applications. More rejection letters, when they even bothered to respond at all. No luck for someone without a college degree I guess. There was always McDonald’s and flipping burgers. Fuck pride, I need money soon, or I’d be living on the street. When Thursday finally rolled around, I was considering going back to the Monster Cup, when there was a metallic tapping at my door. Someone was ringing my little clapper. It had to be someone from the building because no one had buzzed to be let in. Looking through the peephole, and who should I see, but Violet. I unlocked the door, and swung it wide to invite her in. She stepped inside, a little timid at first, appraising the apartment.

“No blood on the walls. That’s a good sign, right?”

“Nah, the maid finally stopped in and cleaned all that up. Too bad I had to strangle her when she was done.”

She laughed nervously.

“So what’s for dinner?”

“I thought you had to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah... well... I decided to call in sick. Depending on how badly you cook, it might not be a lie.”

“I find your lack of faith disturbing. Sit down, and I’ll start some spaghetti.”

The night went fairly well, and she seemed genuinely impressed by the quality of the meal. Fresh pasta, homemade sauce and meatballs, and ground parmesan. The usual banter and first date chit chat went all right. We talked about our past relationships, hobbies, and favorite books, music and movies. As I was cleaning up the dishes from dinner she started to go through my bookshelf trying to glean a few tidbits of my personality from the books I had read. Stopping at a psychology textbook, she pulled it out and began to leaf through its well highlighted pages.

“I didn’t know you were taking any classes.”

“I’m not. it was from a few years back. I didn’t finish.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Tell me about it. It’s impossible to find work these days unless you have 3-5 years experience in an existing field or a degree for any type of job that will be willing to train you and worth having.”

“Yeah...” she said rather lamely, and she slowly flipped through more pages.

“What do you think about this hypnosis stuff?” she asked.

I thought for a moment before replying, “I guess it could be done. I’ve never tried it, or been under, but it seems to work.”

“Want to try it?”

I laughed. “You want to hypnotize me?”

“Not if you’re going to act like that about it.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll try it, if you do it first. Is that fair?”

A tiny glint of defiance sparked behind her dazzling hazel eyes, and she set her jaw in a cocky grin. “Deal” I rearranged some of my furniture so that two of my chairs faced each other and I turned off the overhead lights. I switched on a small side lamp to give us something to work with and we sat down.

“I want you to relax. Take several slow, deep breaths. Nice and easy. regulate your breathing, until you no longer even think about what you’re doing when you think you’re ready, close your eyes. All right, let’s begin. I want you to listen to the sound of my voice, and only the sound of my voice. I want you to tune out all other sounds around us. Everything else is unimportant. Only my voice matters. The other sounds in the room are slowly fading together, and blurring into background noise that you will now ignore. You feel very relaxed. The muscles in your arms and legs are releasing all the tension from this week, and are feeling very loose. The cushions of the chair are so soft, you feel like you could stay there forever.”

I watched her closely to see how she responded, and it seemed like she was slowly taking to my suggestions that she was becoming more and more comfortable, and her face seemed very calm.

“I want you to imagine that you’re getting into a large freight elevator. The old kind that they have in hotels, and warehouses, where you have to pull down a wire screen before the elevator will operate. Inside the walls are covered with slightly peeling green wallpaper, with a faded floral pattern. The neon lighting in the elevator buzzes slightly, and flickers occasionally, and you can smell the faint odor of the cedar wood that it was built from. It’s all very soothing. the only unusual thing about the elevator is that the floor selection panel has recently been replaced. It lists 100 floors, a parking level, and a basement. You have entered the elevator on floor 100. now were are slowly going to travel down, and with each passing floor you will become more and more relaxed. When we reach the bottom you will be in a deep trance. You will be hypnotized.”

“The elevator is beginning to move.”

“Floor 99. The smell of cedar is imperceptibly stronger here, and the shift in weight from your movement helps you relax even further. As you travel downward you begin to leave all the worries of the day behind you.:

“Floor 98. You’ve just finished all your chores for the day, and you’re feeling very tired.”

“Floor 97. You feel the elevator pick up speed slightly, and you sway gently with the movement of the car.”

“Floor 96. Your body is so very relaxed, and a slow waltz begins to play on the overhead speaker.”

“Floor 85. You feel very light, and weightless, and the smell of cedar is stronger now. You like that very much because it helps you clear your mind of all stray thoughts. It helps you forget everything but the sound of my voice, and how important it is. As the smell grows stronger, so will your feeling of safety, and comfort, along with your pleasure at hearing the sound of my voice. you enjoy listening to my voice very much, and with each passing floor the intensity of that pleasure will increase.”

“Floor 73. Nothing else exits but you, in the elevator car with the green floral wallpaper, the slow sounds of the waltz, the smell of cedar, and my voice. Nothing has ever existed before this, and nothing will exist after it. nothing, but the sound of my voice.”

“Floor 51. There is a slight increase in speed again, and the smell of cedar grows ever stronger. You begin to feel your breath slowing even more as you go deeper and deeper, as you move ever closer to the bottom.”

“Floor 29. The smell of cedar is strong now, as strong as the day the elevator was made, and my voice as always is present. you love the sound of my voice. The soft tones, the deep thrum coming from my throat, is so very strong, and powerful. You can not resist its pull. You are in my control now.”

“Floor 10. The descent begins to slow as you approach the bottom, and the sounds of the waltz near the end.”

“Floor 6. You feel free. Totally relaxed of all burdens, all concerns. Nothing matters but the sound of my voice.”

“Floor 3. You have almost reached the bottom, and when the bell dings, and the doors open, you will open your eyes, deeply, and completely hypnotized.”

“Floor 2. Your only desire, the only thing that matters, Your entire world is now the sound of my voice.”

“Floor 1. You have reach the bottom. The smell of cedar is permeates the car, and you inhale it deeply. The waltz has ended, the chime sounds gently, and you are now utterly hypnotized. The doors to the elevator slide open soundlessly, and you step out of the elevator following the sound of my voice. Instead of opening out into a hotel or warehouse you see a sparkling beach, filled fine granules of white powdered sand. The crystals are so minute, so minuscule that your footsteps raise faint clouds of powder as you step out onto the beautiful, pristine grains. You have a strong urge to remove your shoes, and to feel their pure, soft, untouched dunes. The urge is so strong, so overwhelming, that you can not control yourself. You reach down ever so slowly, and remove your shoes, as your feet ache to feel the sand.”

I paused, surprised as her hands began to move and agonizingly slowly they drifted to her feet. As her fingers touched her sandaled foot, I realized I was holding my breath. Whatever the hell I had done, it was working far better than my wildest expectations. The sandal barely moved at first, as she was exerting an impossibly small amount of pressure on it, but centimeter by centimeter it edged its way off her delicate foot. The covering over her toes eventually moved past the edge of her foot, and it dropped quietly to the floor. Though it made virtually no sound, it was as loud as a brick smashing through a plate glass window to me.

I started, and looked up sharply to see if she had woken up. Her face remained unchanged, as expressionless as is a sleeping baby. It looked ever so much like a painting of the Virgin Mary, pale as porcelain, creamy as milk, and clearer than the finest marble. Alabaster. That’s exactly what her skin looked like. Her hair spilled forward to frame her delicate face as her hands shift to her other sandal, and again her tiny foot appear.

Perfectly formed, as small as a child, her feet were incredibly smooth and completely flawless. Her nails were trimmed neatly in exact alignment, and painted a tender shade of pink, that exactly matched her hands. A dainty toe ring adorned her left foot, piercing the nail near very tip. On left ankle was an exquisitely wrought silver ankle bracelet, with tiny bells. Her right foot was adorned with only a single feature, a small daisy sticker just above the cuticle.

While not overly impressed by a woman’s feet, I had to admit that they were as perfect a pair as I had ever seen, and incredibly well cared for. there was not a sign of a blemish, or freckle, or mole. No scars from popped blisters, they could have been no cleaner than had she soaked them in lotion.

I looked at the clock to see that nearly twenty minutes had passed, almost five of which had been staring at her feet! She sat calmly, completely oblivious to the passage of time, as if she were waiting for something. And then it hit me that she was. She was waiting for the sound of my voice.

“The sand feels softer than anything you could have imagined. Softer than goose down, softer than clouds. It’s absolute heaven to walk upon this sand, and it seems impossible, but you are even more comfortable than before. More relaxed. Completely relaxed. A small breeze has picked up a ruffled your hair, and you realize just how warm it is. It must be at least ninety degrees here on the beach, and you are so terribly warm in your hot clothing. If were you wearing a bathing suit it would be perfect weather for tanning. But you’re not, and you wish so much to be cooler. You notice ahead of you several hundred yards a tree line of tropical palms. You walk forward, boldly, unafraid, seeking the shelter of their shade to cool your body.”

“As you step below the trees you are glad to see that the sand extends beneath them as far as you can see. You could not bear to give up the way it comforts and holds your feet, cushioning them, making walking seem like a gift from god. Further inwards, past the palms you see other trees. Massive banana trees bulging with ripe fruit, even more trees bursting with coconuts so large, you would need both hands to hold them. Bushes of dozens of different berries populate the undergrowth, blackberries, raspberries, wild huckleberries, and many others. Wild grape vines crawl between them in perfect harmony, and beneath the grape vines are strawberries as large as your hand. In the distance you can see four foot long water melons, and an endless expanse of kiwi plants.”

“You can also hear the sounds of water running nearby, and you move forward, deeper, and deeper into the shade to find its source, as you are so very thirsty.”

My breath quickened as I saw the tiny red tip of her tongue dart from her mouth, and caress her full, vibrant lips, as she strove in vain to wet them, seeking release from the torturous thirst I had just inflicted upon her. I hurried on, feeling somewhat guilty for making any part of this a negative experience for her, when I was enjoying every moment of her control so readily.

“With just four more steps you find the source of the water, and you rush forward eagerly to drink from the clearest, cleanest water that you have ever seen. Two waterfalls pour forth pure spring water into a basin forty feet wide, and over a hundred feet long. It has a gradual descent towards its center, where it reaches almost twenty feet deep. You can see dozens of fish, swimming lazily in the water scales all colors of the rainbow, unafraid of your presence, for there are no predators here. You drink deeply and greedily from the lake, slaking your thirst with the first several gulps, but swallowing several more as you savor its sweet refreshing taste.”

“It’s warmer than you would care for, to drink in any case, but it would be perfect for a swim. It would greatly ease the warmth that you felt earlier, and you would gladly feel its waters flow over your body, freeing you from the itching sweat that has slowly dried upon your incredible skin. You stand now.”

Holy shit. She just stood up.

“You stand now, " my voice broke as I continued, “And you sensuously remove all of your clothing.”

I wince slightly as I too strongly emphasized all but I am enraptured by the sway of her body as she moves. Not quite dancing, the sashay of her hips, but more than enough to bring me to a strong erection.

Her hands slip underneath the hem of powder blue tank top, and the spaghetti straps limply fall to her shoulders as she extends her lithe arms above her, dragging the clinging fabric with them, over and off her head. Her modest breasts slip free, perhaps a B cup, unfettered by the restraint of a bra. Not a hint of drooping, or sagging detracted from their rounded apple shape. They bounced gently and she drops her shirt to the floor and began to unbutton her denim shorts, bobbing up and down nearly hypnotizing me with their symmetrical areola, just under the size of a quarter. They jiggle wantonly as she bends at the waist, deftly stepping from her shorts, and a pair of cotton powder blue panties that match her top.

The bush around her pubis is long, but even, perhaps an inch worth of hair. Nicely trimmed at the edges, it’s perfectly shaped for wearing a fairly skimpy bikini. Black and full, it stops just short of her mons, which is spread open ever so slightly by a labia just as full as her mouth, if not more so. The hood of her clitoris peeks from their folds, like a cautious animal, fearing capture, so pale as to barely be able to be called pink.

Very excited, and concerned about my ability to control myself much longer, I move towards closure.

“As you slip into the water, the surface barely ripples, and you feel a moderate current pleasantly wash your body. The sweat of the earlier heat is swept from you in mere seconds and you luxuriate in its soft embrace. You swim for some time, untiring, feeling free, and rejuvenated. As you approach the waterfalls, you notice that the first is quite cool, perhaps 60 degrees.”

A groan escapes my lips her pert breasts become somehow firmer, and tighter and her nipples poke outward like tiny eraser tips. I couldn’t help but notice a miniature dimple in the center, puckering from the imagined cold.

“As you pass under it, you her shocked briefly, but are surprised further when the second waterfall is incredibly warm, nearly 100 degrees. Almost perfectly matching your body temperature, you hesitate before moving onward to see where the lake lets out. A small tributary branches off from the lake snaking towards the ocean, and you now understand that this paradise is an undiscovered island, untouched by anyone besides us. Its virgin beauty is mine to share with you, for this is my island. I own the island, and I share it with you as a gift. Only I know of its secret, hidden location.”

My personal agenda, crass as it may be, must be satisfied, gentleman or not.

“Only I can bring you hear, for no other man or woman shall ever be able to find it, or another of its like again. Magnetic energy that radiates from beneath the island, that contributes to your feelings of well being, and youth, also inhibit modern science or technology from ever locating this place. You are totally dependent on me if you ever wish to come here again.”

“And I will bring you, as often as you wish, without reservation, or desire for compensation. I do this because I care for you deeply, and I want you to feel safe, and comforted. To always have a place where you can go, to forget your troubles, and be free. You see the sun is setting now, and it is time to leave the island, but you will never forget what you have experienced here. You will carry these memories, and their joy, with you always and forever.”

“You step onto the white sands again, without sadness or remorse, for you know that you may return any time you wish. You need but ask. You dress carefully, noticing that your body has already dried, and move back towards the beach to watch the sunset. You shade your gorgeous eyes from the glare of the light on the water, and see all shades of crimson, rose, and vermilion in the multi-hued orgasm that nature has put on display, solely for us. You smile as you hear the faint chime of an elevator bell, and turn to see doors opening from thin air.”

“Beyond the doors is a large freight elevator reminiscent of an old hotel or warehouse. Inside it is covered with faded green wallpaper, with floral print and it smells richly of cedar. Inside, waiting, I hold a single red rose out to you, extending it slightly for your acceptance or denial, in the desire for forgiveness for anything that I may have done to upset you tonight. you may tell me if you accept the rose when we reach the 100th floor, and you awaken.”

“Before I press the button, I will give you a secret password that will only work when spoken by me. You may say the word, and it be a normal word, and if said by anyone else will be innocent and harmless. It will have no effect should you or anyone else write it, and it will have no special meaning should you read it. Only I wield its power. Whenever I say the word “Canary” you will instantly be transported to here, to this beach, this island. My Island. And you will experience its joy, and pleasures as strongly as your first visit. You will return to the normal world when I, or anyone else says the word “Hospital.” You may even return from the island yourself by saying it, should you so desire.”

“Now we shall begin our ascent. As we rise, you will remember everything that has transpired here. When you awaken you will feel totally refreshed, and composed. You will not be embarrassed by anything that has happened, but you are free to be upset with me, if you feel that I have behaved inappropriately. If it is your wish, I will never again speak the password, or I shall speak it as often as you like. When you reawaken you will be in control again, and I will no longer hold sway over you. The island’s allure is freedom. It is not addicting in any way, and you will not suffer any ill affect if you decide you never wish to go there again.”

“I will slowly count the floors as we rise, and when I reach 100, you will return, and our date will be over.”

“96... 97.. the cedar smell is so faint, and the waltz once more winds to a close... 98... 99... 100. The waltz has ended, and you are no longer hypnotized.”

Violet opened her eyes, and stared at me wordless for several minutes. I admit that I fidgeted nervously, awaiting her approval, yet fearing a storming tirade of abuse for my entrancement of her. She opened her mouth slightly, then closed it again, repeating the process several times before reaming silent again. She looked very much like one of the fish I had early described.

Finally she seemed to have made up her mind, and her face became stern and impassive.

“Jerry?” she asked.

“Yes, Violet?”

“I’m feeling rather strange. I think I should go to bed now.”

I stood, moving aside the chair, still nervous, clearing the way to the door, I offered tentatively, “I hope that you had a pleasant evening.”

She smiled slightly. “To your bed, Jerry. Maybe we’ll go swimming again in the morning.”