The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

They’d met online, Lisa and Will had. They’d had a mutual fetish. They started slowly, flirting and hypnotizing each other over the phone lines. They contrived to meet, and so they did, in a tacky but affordable hotel in Chicago. They started out kinda slow, she’d put him under, he’d wake up without a shirt on. He’d put her under and she’d wake up finding herself compelled to take off an article of clothing if he said her name. They escalated. He woke up naked, was put under, woke up licking her. She went to sleep and he woke her with his finger darting. She put him under and made him masturbate, but fall asleep before he could climax. He did the same to her. A decision was made at some point and one of them put the other under; was then fucked into wakefulness until fucked again to sleep.

They slept the next day. Woke up, went to the bar. That’s where they met Marissa. Neither one had noticed, but suddenly they were both in a very involved conversation with this mysterious and slightly unlikely beauty; she wore a coat too long and big for her, her face was etched and slightly strange, her fingers were narrow and articulate. She had feathers tied in her hair. She was about their age. Sort of. Seemed older, but looked almost younger.

“It’s weird,” Marissa said, in an airy smooth voice, “I know it’s just a seedy, cheap hotel, but I find this place completely relaxing. Y’know?”

They did.

“I could spend hours here, just staring at all the faces, the lights.... just staring...”

They could too, somehow, they thought.

“It’s so dreamy and unreal here. Almost puts me in a trance...”

Lisa noticed Will squirm a little in his seat. Was he turned on too? This woman, it was like she knew them...

Like, I don’t know, maybe like Babylon.”

They wouldn’t remember it, but at the completely out of place mention of the word Babylon, Lisa and Will fell asleep. Not with any heavy drama or anything; there was no slumping in the chairs, nothing any passing observer would have thought much of; just a couple sitting calmly, their eyes shut, listening to a friend speak in low, soothing tones, about herself, about them, about any number of things... Then Marissa woke them up. She invited herself back to their room, they both felt themselves flush, and they knew they both felt the same uncomfortable lust. They happily led the way.

The first thing that happened when they got there and Lisa had shut the door, Marissa leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and she felt the most incredible thing, it was like the first time she’d ever masturbated, or maybe that one time she’d tried heroine, or something else altogether, like fucking a memory and she felt like she was about to pass out from the pleasure, and Marissa said to Tim, “Better catch her,” and Lisa fell asleep standing, her moan turned to a sigh, and Tim caught her awkwardly. Marissa told him to put her on the bed.

“Take off her clothes, will you.” She said it so friendly. So he did, slowly. He watched her breathe in and out and remain sleeping, mouth slightly open, while he undid her blouse and her jeans, pulled them off as gently as he could. His fingers lingered on certain parts. Her whole body was loose and calm. Her underwear and jeans and socks came last. He just stared. Then Marissa said, “Now you undress.” He stripped. “Now....” and Marissa whispered something in his ear, and he felt the weirdest rush, like... he felt himself vaguely falling over, landing next to Lisa, and as something resembling utter peace bashed in his brain, and he slept.

Marissa was pleased with herself. These two would be very fine. The machinations that had led the two together and two to her were complicated, but worth it. She smiled and watched the light on their resting naked bodies. “Well, you two,” she said. “I’m glad you showed. Most don’t.” They were really a cute couple. Lisa had a few tattoos scattered, beautiful things, really: they looked alchemical. Which made sense. Tim seemed undecorated, but their was a quality to his hair and body that spoke to Marissa of a willingness to experience ... well, what would you call it? Experience experience, maybe.

“Lisa, Will?”

They mumbled barely audible responses.

“I would like you two to fuck each other, please.”

They did. Every time they were done, Marissa put them under again. Told them a thing or two, gave them a new direction, asked a question. Then she’d let them sleep for an hour or so, wake them up, and have them do it again. She made herself scarce by morning light.

They woke up, it was noon. They couldn’t remember the last night. They must’ve gotten drunk. Right? Right. Why not. That didn’t feel right, but they’d go along with it. They went along with it mostly because they were inexplicably horny. Will begged to be put under. They were already naked, she slid over under the sheets, atop him, and slowly, slowly started to put him in a trance; it seemed much deeper and easier than it had before, his eyes were sliding and his erection was pulsing and the words she said felt much more powerful than they had. She wasn’t sure she’d ever said it this way before. No, she hadn’t, she knew she hadn’t. “Sleep,” she said. And he did, and then, for whatever reason, she desperately needed to fuck him, so she enveloped his cock, she rode it slowly and almost lazily, hissing on every up and down, sighing, and moaning quietly into his sleeping ear, but soon she was riding him fast and heavy, and she felt him come in his trance, saw eyelids flutter, a

sharp breath and a sigh, and then she came herself, and she panted and panted.

Then something weird happened. There was a naked girl with feathers in her hair standing in the room. Had she been there before? Had she been there the entire time? Anyway, the girl was standing there, but Lisa wasn’t afraid like she thought vaguely she should’ve been, and the girl leaned over and tapped Lisa on the forehead and Lisa felt herself falling into a deep sleep, Tim still inside her, her body sprawled over his.

While they slept Marissa prepared. She rubbed their bodies with the sacred ointments. She spoke the sacred words. She crawled between them, held a hand to each sleepers’ genitals, and infused their energy with hers. She kissed them in the sacred spots: starting at the forehead, then the lips, then their nipples, then their hands, then their feet, then, most slowly and most delicately, their sex.

Lisa began to stir first. Marissa kissed her deeply, the drug on her lips taking affect almost instantly, putting Lisa into a kind of responsive half-sleep. It wasn’t unlike what voodoo priests used to make people into so-called zombies. But it had some added qualities that distinguished it. She leaned over and kissed Tim, who was still under.

Marissa spoke to them, then, they answered her questions in a sleepy monotone. She gave them their directions. They knew what they were to do, what would happen.

They woke up that evening. Still sleepy, though. Pleasantly worn out. Tim said that was the best fuck he’d ever had, though he couldn’t remember it well. Lisa agreed, though she was a little confused about how it’d gone too. And that frustrated her a little... then she realized how horny she was, how sleepy, too, and she said that she desperately needed to be put under. “Happily,” he said. She surprised herself how quickly and easily he put her under; just his voice and tone was enough to make her eyes go heavy and her body limp and moist. It seemed weirdly wonderfully easy to Tim, too. “Sleep,” he said, and she sighed and did. He put himself in her, a moist total embrace, slowly slowly started to move inside her—

“Excuse me, Tim,” a voice said, and there was a vaguely familiar looking naked woman with feathers in her head crouched next to the bed. “Tim,” she said, “you and Lisa are both doing very well. I want you to know that; I believe in positive reinforcement. But here’s the thing: I think you’ve both copulated long enough. And I have to give you something before you can come inside Lisa again.” She gestured for him to dismount; he did, turned around, looked up at Marissa—that was her name, he remembered. He trusted her implicitly. Marissa had sharp eyes, sharp angles, except her breasts, and a little roundness of her waste and belly. She crawled into bed, sliding her skin along Tim’s. “Lisa will sleep,” Marissa said, “while we fuck. Then I’ll give you something, and you’ll sleep. Then you two can get back to it...”

And so Marissa fucked him, and after she came, just before he did, he felt a weird thing sliding through him, a kind of sleepy peace and surrender he knew he’d have forever after this, and then he came, and then Marissa said, “Sleep,” and he did, instantly.

So when Tim finally did wake up, he and Marissa were of one mind. He was much at peace now that waking and sleeping and him and Marissa were more or less all the same thing. So with Marissa lounging lazily, half-asleep, in the chair next to the bed, Tim mounted Lisa, and moved slowly in and out till she mumbled a wakening moan, and she moved into his moves, and she circled her arms around his back, and their pressures mounted until she came, then he came, and after he did, her eyes widened as she understood a little of what had just happened to her, then she sighed, and her eyes shut, and she went lose and slept, deeper than she ever had before.

Marissa padded over to the bed, crawled next to the still entwined couple, yawned. “Now we should all sleep,” she said, and Tim knew she was right, so he let himself, and Marissa let herself, and they all three slept for some time.