The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“WHAT did you just say?”

Denise glared at Megan Driver. The 18-year-old senior had a history of disrupting her class but this time Denise had had enough.

“I said, I don’t need to learn anything in this fucking class. In two weeks I’ll be gone and there won’t have been a single second of time spent in this goddamn room that was worth my fucking time.”

Denise’s face was red with anger, while Megan’s remained surprisingly calm. The rest of the class were watching the exchange, open mouthed and in shock at the words coming out of Megan’s mouth.

Denise took a deep breath. “I would send you straight to the office, young lady, but I know that’s exactly what you want. Even though between your tardiness and your language you’ve certainly earned it. Now take your seat and, oh, you will be staying after class so we can have a very serious discussion about your behavior.”

As Megan sloughed away, taking one of the seats in the back, Denise simply shook her head. She didn’t understand why Megan, who was both beautiful and smart, would risk ruining her future with this unnecessary behavior. And it wasn’t like Megan came from a troubled home; her mother was a well-respected psychologist after all. Denise thought that of all things, behavior should be the last thing Megan should have issues around. Her free period was right after this class so she sincerely hoped that she’d have time to finally get to the bottom of the Megan situation.

The bell rang and the rest of the students quickly filed out. As Denise watched Megan approaching her desk, grumbling all the while, she took note of what a fashionable outfit Megan was wearing—a very classy blouse/skirt/heels combo that Denise herself would probably wear. The girl was smart, stylish, and from a good home—which made her language and behavior all the more perplexing to the young history teacher.

“Let’s get this fucking over with, I have another class you know, not that I want to be there any goddamn more than I am here.” There was a chair across from Denise’s, behind the desk, and Megan plopped down in it, slouched over a bit, looking like she couldn’t wait to leave.

“Again with the language! Where on earth did this all come from, Megan? Your mother, from what I know of her, would never condone it!”

Megan sat up a bit. “My mother? What do you know of my mother? She knows EVERYTHING, we have no secrets between us. Sure, she’s very successful at what she does. One thing she has taught me is that words only have power when you give them power, Denise. Other than that they are just words...so I don’t see why you keep getting your panties in a fucking bunch over them.” As Megan spoke she started fiddling with the pendant that was hanging around her neck.

“When you’re in my class it matters what words you use, Megan. And in the real world it matters even more. What kind of job do you think is going to let you use that kind of language on a regular basis?”

“The one I’m doing right now—I spend my evenings as a phone sex operator. I pull down more bills in a week than you do in a fucking month. Think on that, Denise.” Megan put some extra emphasis on her teacher’s name as she continued playing with her shiny jewelry.

“And your mother is okay with this? What sort of future do you think you have in something like that? Is everything okay between you two?” Denise was getting Megan to open up a bit so she decided to push. At least now she had an idea how the language started.

“Why wouldn’t she be? I’m eighteen, I’m paying my way, it’s just a fucking job and it’s easy as shit and it pays a hell of a lot better than a lot of fucking careers, Denise. And it gives me power, fucking power like you wouldn’t believe, to have these men, grown men calling me up begging me to do all sorts of crazy fucked-up shit to them. All with these words that piss you off—like I fucking said, they only have power if you motherfucking let them.” Megan smiled as she continued fiddling with the pendant, letting the light reflect off it.

“I’m your teacher, Megan—you may not think so but it’s disrespectful to—would you quit doing that?”

“Quit doing what?” Megan replied innocently.

“That...what you’re doing with your jewelry—its,” Denise stopped as another flash of light hit her eyes, “it’s very distracting. You keep getting light in my eyes.”

“Distracting, huh? I bet it is.” Megan continued, ignoring her teacher’s request. “It probably makes it really hard to think.”

“Well it’s—” Denise paused again as a flash of light stabbed into her brain, “Please stop doing that!”

“Hmm,” Megan pondered as she flicked the pendant even faster, sending pulses of rhythmic light at Denise, “hmm...no, I don’t believe I will. Why should I?”

Denise began shifting in her seat, turning to try and escape the flashes but Megan simply rotated the pendant in her fingers, continuing the visual assault on Denise’s eyes. “I’m warning you Megan!”

“Warning me?” Megan leaned in a bit closer. “What are you fucking gonna do, teacher? Are you gonna hit me? That’ll get you fired faster than I could say shit. Expel me from school? You know that’s what I want anyway.” Every time Megan reflected a light at Denise it caused her to blink. “Oh, call my mother? She’ll just tell you to mind your own fucking business, and stay out of her daughter’s shit.”

“I, I—” Denise started to speak but the light jabbed into her eyes again, breaking her train of thought that was having trouble leaving the station at this point. Denise had no idea how she’d lost control of the situation so quickly, but with every flash of light she felt more powerless and confused about what to say or do next.

“Yes? You were going to say something? Maybe along the lines of ‘I don’t have any power here Megan’.” The lights were hitting Denise’s eyes so fast now that her eyes were closed more than they were open. “I can say or do any motherfucking thing I want and there isn’t shit you can do about it, bitch.” Megan kept flicking the pendant in a constant rhythm as she spoke. “So if I have the power and you don’t...I think that means I have the fucking power over you, don’t I, Denise?”

“I...umm,” Denise was struggling to keep her eyes open at all now. She was so confused, she didn’t want to say ‘yes’ but she couldn’t think of anything else.

“Don’t I, Denise?”

“Yes...” And with that word, Megan angled the pendant perfectly so the light, instead of flickering, shone directly into her helpless teacher’s eyes. Denise’s eyes blinked once more and then slammed shut, her mouth hanging slightly open as her arms dropped limply to her sides.

“Good girl.” Megan let go of the pendant and leaned in to whisper directly into Denise’s ear. “Now, let’s have a real fucking chat.”

For the next twenty minutes, Megan spoke and Denise listened, her docile brain absorbing every word Megan said like a sponge. Denise felt as if she was in total bliss, floating on a cloud, and trusting everything that Megan was telling her. She heard Megan ask her questions, personal questions that nobody would ever dare ask her, and she knew she was answering them honestly and openly. Every now and then Denise would let out a dreamy sigh, or a tiny moan, from something Megan said to her. She knew she could trust Megan with anything, even when Megan instructed her to forget the conversation entirely, until Megan would tell her it was okay to remember. And then, Megan snapped her fingers.

Denise’s eyes popped open as she tried to clear out the cobwebs. Her first action was to glance up at the clock—was her free period really over that quickly? She looked over at Megan who was sitting there with a smug look. “Megan,” she started, “umm, I’m really glad we could talk like this. Thank you so much for being willing to open up and listen to me.” She couldn’t quite remember what it was that Megan had opened up to her about, but she knew somehow that she had.

“Oh you’re welcome, Miss Denise, and I won’t be any more trouble, thanks to you. You’re the best!” As Denise watched Megan pick up her books and leave, opening the door so that her next class could file in, she realized that was the first time Megan had ever used the word ‘Miss’ before her name. Denise smiled—she had gotten through to Megan after all!

“Okay class,” she stood up as they all settled into their seats, “let’s get started...”

Denise was quite confused as she sat in the office of her principal at the end of the day. To all accounts it had been one of her better days as a teacher—she was usually exhausted by the end of the day but today, for some reason, she felt really good.

“I must say, young lady, I am quite ashamed of all the reports that have been coming into my office all afternoon,” the older, white-haired gentleman began. “What on earth would possess you to tell your class, ‘The fucking Pilgrims didn’t land on Plymouth Rock—Plymouth Rock fucking landed on them’?”

“I don’t get what the big fucking deal is, Mr. David. I was just quoting from a movie—and do you have to use all that goddamn profanity when you say it?”

“What is going on here Denise? I need an explanation, and I need it fast. I have kids telling me all sorts of things about the language you’ve been using all day.”

Denise sighed. “I was having some issues with that little bitch Megan in first period. I fucking thought we took care of it but she must have spread some shit to her fucking classmates. Yeah, that’s it. See, nothing to explain.”

“I think there is, Denise—I’m going to get calls from parents soon, I’m sure. All about what kind of language you’ve been using around their children.”

Denise looked straight at her superior, feeling flushed with anger as she spoke. “You know me, Ben—you know I would never say that shit around them. I’m a goddamn fucking professional, Ben!” She was visibly sweating now.

“Denise—are you all right? Seriously now—you don’t seem yourself at all.”

“I don’t know, Ben,” she muttered, feeling even more hot and itchy and sweaty under her clothes. “I...I think I’m losing my shit, Ben. Fucking losing it.”

He leaned forward. “Okay look Denise, the day’s over, go home, get some rest, maybe some hot soup, a nice warm bath—something to help you relax. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over with the parents, but at the very least I’ll have to give you a referral to a counselor, and maybe a day or two, maybe more, of paid administrative leave. Can you handle that?”

Denise sighed. “Yeah, I can handle that, asshole,” she answered as she got up out of the chair and slowly made her way out the door. He started to say something back, but just shook his head in disbelief.

As she pulled out of the school parking lot, Denise knew exactly where she had to go. She was angry, she was hot and flushed and sweaty as she sped down the road. As she flew through an intersection someone pulled out into her path; she laid on the horn as she let loose with a barrage of expletives at the driver. As she finally stopped cursing she found herself feeling even more hot and itchy all over. She spotted the driveway she was looking for and pulled in; leaving all her stuff in the car she marched straight to the front door and knocked.

“Miss Denise,” Megan greeted her as she opened the door. “Please, come in. What brings you here? If you’re looking for Mom she’s not here.”

“No, I’m here to fucking talk to you,” Denise answered.

“Oh really?” Megan’s face lit up. “Please, come in and have a seat.” She led her teacher to the living room sofa. “What’s on your mind?” Megan looked over Denise’s appearance as she spoke. “Wow you’re all hot and sweaty, did you just come from the gym?”

“Fuck no,” Denise responded. “My day has gone to shit! Ever since we had that fucking talk in second period. I thought everything was goddamned taken care of and then—I think you must have put up some your friends to report me to the fucking principal...” Denise was breathing harder.

“The principal?” Megan was beaming. “Please, do keep talking. Tell me everything, Denise.”

“He...he fucking told me he might be putting me on administrative fucking leave!” Denise was trembling all over. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on anymore...”

“Wow.” Megan was grinning from ear to ear as she leaned closer. “I had no idea the pretty, prudish teacher was such a potty mouth.“

Denise gasped. She clapped her hand over her mouth—in that instant it was like a cloud had been lifted away from her mind. She suddenly remembered everything that happened. “You...you fucking—” she gasped again as she know knew what she was saying as she was saying it. “Oh my god, what the fuck—” and she clapped her hand over her mouth again in total mortification, almost in tears now. “What did you fucking do to me, bitch?”

Megan smiled in satisfaction. “I’ve learned a lot in my eighteen years. And I’ve practiced. Remember what I was telling you about words? I’ve learned how to use them in a lot of different ways. Those guys I talk to on the phone—I’ve learned how to get inside their heads, keep them on the line for hours if I want. And I got inside your head today, too. I turned it into my personal fucking playground.“

“Then get the fuck back out!” Denise breathed, her mind a mixture of panic, confusion, and something else... “Whatever you fucking did to me, undo it! Make it fucking stop!” She was shaking, sweating, tingling all over.

“Not a chance. I’m in total control now. You aren’t used to that are you? You’re a bit of a control freak, I bet. I bet everything in your house is organized and labeled and exactly where it’s supposed to be, just like your classroom is. You tried to make your mind like that too—but I got in there and made a real mess of things. And I found out some interesting things too—like how when you were my age you were a total slut. And that wasn’t that long ago was it? So I thought it would be extra fun if every time you used profanity it made you hornier. Look at you now, you’re just a bitch in heat aren’t you? Part of you wants me to stop, and part of you, that inner slut, wants me to do even more.“

“Please,” Denise pleaded, “Please stop this, I’m begging you, I’m fucking begging you...”

“Are you sure?” Megan reached out and ran her hand through her confused teacher’s beautiful half-blonde half-brunette hair. “Are you sure what you’re begging for is for me to stop? Or are you really begging for me to say the words that will make you climax, give you that release you are dying to have?” She looked deep into Denise’s eyes and saw how lost the poor girl was. “You don’t have to answer—your eyes and body already have. You know, all you really are is just a misbehaving pussy.“

“Ohhhhhhhhhh!!!” Denise moaned and convulsed as a powerful orgasm rocked through her. Megan kept her hand in Denise’s hair as she watched the helpless teacher writhing in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back and mouth open, her chest heaving as her body bucked and shook. Finally, as Denise started to come down from the euphoria, Megan whispered into her ear...

“Good girl.”

Denise blinked. It was like a switch in her head had just been flipped. “I...wow...oh my god...I can talk again! I mean, without an obscene word coming out every two seconds...”

“I’m not a total monster. And besides, I need you to be yourself again tomorrow—because you’re going to do something for me.” She grinned. “That is, unless you want me to get inside here,” she tapped Denise’s forehead, “and REALLY do something awful, much worse than I did today.”

“Of course, you’ve got an A, I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow—”

“Not even. You’re going to have me expelled. You know that is all I fucking want.“

Denise nodded—what choice did she have?

The next afternoon, as Denise was leaving school, she thought back on the last couple of days. It had all worked out—Megan had come into school and put on such a public display that not only was Denise able to get her expelled, but the principal was able to see the kind of stress Denise must have been under—and excused her behavior from the previous day, even agreeing that the school would pay for her to go see a psychologist as her only consequence. While the idea of seeing any student expelled was not something she liked to think about, she at least figured she’d never have to hear the name ‘Megan Driver’ again. She felt flushed as she thought about how easily Megan had gotten into her head—what she still couldn’t understand was how an 18-year-old, even one as smart as Megan, could know how to do everything she had done in a span of twenty minutes.

The appointment was in a half hour; as Denise started to drive away, she looked at the card Mr. David had given her, the name and address where she was going. Her eyes widened as she read...

“Linda Driver, PhD. Licensed Psychologist.”