The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hey, Derek, this is Jen. Oh, well, I guess you know that already, since you got this audio file in an email sent from my account, duh… But just in case you were wondering if this was a joke, a scam or a virus, no, it is really me talking.

Anyway, you are probably a little surprised to receive an email from me, particularly with the title “Don’t open in front of Susan”, but, well, the truth is there are some things that I need to ask from you, and I would prefer that Susan doesn’t know about this… You know, she is my best friend and she is your girlfriend…

So, this is what I suggest: since this is going to be quite a long audio file (sorry about that!), I suggest that you plug in your headphones, sit back in a comfortable chair or even in your bed and listen to it when Susan is not around, or when you know that she will be doing something else for a while, for example taking one of her long baths that seem to take forever… Sit back, close your eyes so that you can focus only on my voice, because the things that I want to talk to you about are important, and then press play again. Can you do that for me?

I will give you some time to get comfortable then… You can press pause and restart when you are ready…

So? Are you there? Are you sitting back as I told you? Eyes closed? Comfy? Relaxed? I hope so, because this is going to be quite a ride.

Well, I will go straight to the point. As I said, I have something to request from you, something that I need you to do for me. I will just say it, because it is best to deal with these things head on, like ripping off a band-aid, as they say, no delays, no bullshit, pardon my French. So here it goes, are you ready? Here is what I need you to do for me:

Do not think of my feet.

There, I said it.

Let me say it again, because I want to make sure that you understand what I am saying:

Do not think of my feet.

Is that something you can do for me? Could you? It is quite an easy thing to do, right? NOT thinking about something? It should be easy enough, it should require almost no effort from you… And yet… I know that you may have trouble not thinking about my feet, that is why I have to ask you once more: do not think of my feet anymore. Please.

Yes, I know that you must be surprised right now, maybe a little embarrassed. Please don’t be! I have known for a while that you have kind of a fixation for my feet, I caught you staring at them many times when you thought that I was not looking… Also, well, Susan made a little indiscretion and told me about your foot fetish a while back and…

And… I am not proud to say that I have been teasing you since then, exposing you to my feet whenever I could, so to speak, to see your excitement, your desire for them, and also all the clumsy ways in which you tried to hide the fact that you were staring at my feet…

Do you think it was a coincidence that almost every time I hang out with you and Susan I was wearing flip-flops or open sandals? Or that I took off my shoes in front of you with any excuse possible? I remember one time we went to the beach all together, and I was swinging my feet in the air the whole time… You could not take your eyes off them! You were practically mesmerized! Even if Susan hadn’t told me that you liked feet, I think I would have guessed that day…

But anyway, we had our fun, me teasing you, you staring at my feet as long as you could, but it is over now. Enough is enough. Susan is my friend and she is your girlfriend, and this needs to stop.

So. I have to ask you again.

Please stop thinking of my feet, even if my feet are sexy as hell, and I know they are. And I know that you know they are.

It should be easy, right? You just forget about my feet, think about any other thing, and there are hundreds of millions of other things that you can think about, so there, you will not have a problem not thinking about my feet.

Of course, you know what they say in Neuro-linguistic Programming (yes, I have a degree in Psychology, I am not just a pretty face with sexy feet): that the subconscious mind does not understand the word “no”, so if somebody says, for example, “there are no pink elephants”, what your mind does immediately is picturing a pink elephant.

Which means that, by mentioning my sexy feet over and over again for the last few minutes, I probably have forced you to think about them, which is the opposite of what I wanted…

Oh, my. I am so sorry about that, Derek.

I guess that if I close your eyes now, all that you can see is the image of my sexy feet, there, floating inside your mind, and there is nothing you can do to stop thinking about them. How could I be so careless?

I am sure you are picturing them right now (again, I am so sorry, Derek!), my small feet, which someone would even call petite, with their slight arches, perfectly formed toes, thin ankles and no signs of bunions or callouses in sight—I take good care of them, of course! And the shade of white in my feet, which the classics would compare to marble or alabaster, those old farts… But you know what they mean, that if you look closely enough (and you have, haven’t you?), you can even see the blue veins running underneath the skin…

Even though I clearly asked you NOT to think of my feet, you are thinking about them right now, aren’t you?

Oh, my… I guess this one is on me…

At least I didn’t ask you something, let’s say, frothier, like: do not think of what it would feel like to touch my feet.

I didn’t ask you before but I have to ask you now, seeing how you didn’t follow my previous request.

Please, Derek, do not imagine yourself touching my feet.

That should be even easier, right? Because you have never touched my feet, so you do not have a memory to resort to… If you were to think about touching my feet (and please, Derek, DON’T), you would have to create that memory from scratch.

Like, you would have to imagine yourself placing your hands on my feet, and feeling for the first time the silky touch of my soles… Confirming that, yes, they are as smooth and they seem, and even smoother, so to speak. And confidently grabbing my feet, squishing them—they are so small that they almost fit in your big manly hands.

Tell me, Derek, do you still have your eyes closed as I suggested? Are you listening to me, are you listening to my charming voice, talking directly to your stubborn subconscious mind which does not understand the word “no”?

If that is the case, then, I guess you are picturing yourself touching my feet, EVEN IF I EXPLICITLY ASKED YOU NOT TO! And you may even be thinking about what it would feel like, oh, I don’t know, massaging them. Yes, that scene from Pulp Fiction, yes, there is no doubt that a foot massage does have an erotic meaning for you, right?

So, you naughty boy, are you imagining yourself with your hands on my feet? In that image, did you put some massage oil on your hands? Did you place my feet on your lap, casually a few inches away from your crotch area, in the hope that there will be some “accidental” contact with your dick? In your mind, with your eyes closed, are you pressing the flesh of my soles with your thumbs, running them from the heels to the toes, then pressing each toe one by one, stretching them backwards to feel all the muscles and tendons in the foot get tense, and then pressing them downwards to relieve that tension, and going back to the soles and to the heels…?

Darn, are you? How could you do this to Susan?

And even worse, I guess you are getting turned on too by all these images… Are you? Are you now?

Please, Derek, do NOT get turned on by the idea of massaging my feet, or inversely, about my feet massaging you, as they do in traditional Thai massages or in not-so-traditional erotic massages, so to speak.

Are you thinking about what it would be to feel the softness of my feet caressing every inch of your body, from head to toe, covered in warm massage oil, playing with your senses and sending pleasurable sensations from all parts of your body? Are you imagining me as one of those Indian goddesses that have ten hands, but in my case with ten feet that massage every sensitive spot on your body, bringing you close to bliss and ecstasy?

Can you feel the softness of my feet promising you a neverending pleasure?

Oh, Derek, don’t, just… DON’T!!!

Please!

I guess at this point it is almost useless to make these requests, but anyhow I must make them, for me, for Susan, for yourself… Even if you are hard inside your pants right now, thinking about caressing my feet or being caressed by them, for hours if necessary, just stay with that image, please, do not go any further.

Do not (I repeat, do NOT) think about kissing or licking or biting or worshipping my feet.

That would be COMPLETETLY off limits. That would be completely unacceptable, and I would have to tell Susan about it if you did.

This might be a bit harder, because I know it would be so easy for you to take that step further from one image to the other: you are massaging my sexy feet, maybe the sexiest feet you have seen in your entire life… My feet are on your lap, in your hands, covered in oil, I may even be moaning a little from the pleasure that your massage is making me fee… (Yes, I am a loud moaner, and not just during massages).

And then you think, why not? And you take one of my feet, lift if with your hands, place it in front of your mouth, stick your tongue out…

Are you really, REALLY picturing yourself licking my feet right now, Derek? Me, your girlfriend’s best friend? I know that I have really sexy feet, and I know that you have fantasized about them for quite a while. Hell, I bet that you have masturbated thinking about my feet before… buy this is different, Derek, because now I am asking you to PLEASE STOP DOING IT!!!

Let me be more specific.

Derek, please stop thinking about my feet, how they look like, how they smell (a subtle sweet smell, I always keep them clean!), how the feel in your hands and in your lap, and please, please, please, do not try to imagine how it would feel to lick them from heel to toe, or how my toes would fit inside your mouth, and how you could bite them softly, not to hurt but to nibble on them… Please, do not imagine yourself placing my feet directly on your face, covering it, with their scent intoxicating you and making your groin spasm…

I bet you could put one of my feet on your mouth easy while you press the other one against your cock, but that is something else that you should not think about if you still have any respect for Susan or for yourself, Derek. Or for me.

Do you? Do you have any respect for either of us, Derek?

Are you a decent man, Derek, one who can stop thinking about doing unspeakable things to my feet right now, as I have asked repeatedly? Or are you one of those weak-minded men, easy to manipulate if you know their weak spots, a slave to your instincts and your desires?

I bet you are weak, Derek, in fact I am sure you are. That is why I guess that you haven’t even tried to stop thinking about my feet as I have asked over and over again. I bet you just can’t stop thinking about my feet and how you would like to touch them and kiss them and worship them…

The truth is, Susan warned me about you; yes, she committed another indiscretion, she mentioned that you are a horny devil and that you cannot control your urges any more than a lusty teenager. Maybe this was all a mistake, then, maybe contacting you to ask you to stop thinking about my feet has made you desire my feet even more…

Maybe I am turning you into my foot slave unknowingly, by mentioning my perfect, petite sexy feet and all the things you could do with them… considering that my warm voice is going straight into your subconscious, placing all this images of my sexy feet doing sexy things in the center of your very self…

And to think that all I wanted was that you stopped thinking about my feet…

But if it is true that you are a slave to your desires, then if I would, oh, I don’t know, put my feet together while you are massaging them, sole against sole, with the arches between them forming a hole that looks quite like a vagina (oh, Derek, look what you are making me say!), I guess it would be no use if I told you not to do it: you would just take your cock out of your pants and start stroking it with my oily feet.

Please, Derek, please, do not put your cock out of your pants right now, do not start stroking it with your hand, but imagining that it is me doing you a footjob… (Yes, I know that’s how it’s called, do you think I was born yesterday? Do you think a girl with such sexy feet as myself would not learn how to use them to please men? To drain men? To control them? In fact, I don’t want you to imagine it AT ALL, but I just give the best footjobs, and that’s a fact).

Oh, my.

You are masturbating right now, aren’t you? You are picturing me giving you the best footjob you have ever received in your life, if you have ever received one. I am just sure of it.

I am not even going to try to stop you from this one, we are too far gone now, Derek, so to speak.

How did we get to this, Derek? How did we get from “stop thinking of my feet” to you listening to my voice talking straight to your subconscious mind, while you imagine my slippery and silky feet pressed against your cock going up and down, up and down, and while you masturbate thinking of the pleasures that my sexy feet, and nobody or nothing else in this world, could give you?

How did we get to this, Derek?

I guess we got to this because you are weak, Derek, and every word I say becomes the truth in your unconscious mind…

So if I just said the words “naked”, “nude” or “pussy”, they would immediately get incorporated into the image in your mind.

Is it true, then?

Are you now picturing me naked while you masturbate with the image of my feet in mind? I bet you are. You have seen me wearing a bikini that left almost nothing to the imagination, and you have seen me changing clothes in Susan’s bathroom (yes, I knew you were looking that day too).

The only missing part is my pussy. And let me tell you, I have an amazing pussy, almost as perfect as my feet: it would be impossible to choose one over the other. They are both soft, silky, petite, perfect, so to speak.

But I don’t want you to think about that, even if you are now, I am sure, picturing my pussy and salivating, drooling over it, with your eyes closed and your hand on your shaft.

And because you are weak, I bet you would not stop there: even if I told you, for the last time, for the very last time, to stop, you would go one step further and think about how it would be to fuck me, to fuck me long and hard.

Is that what you are picturing, you pig? Are you thinking of how if would feel to put your dick in my pussy, how my wet pussy would embrace it and devour it, how it would feel to thrust my pussy with your cock over and over, in and out, while you keep licking and biting and worshipping my feet while you get closer and closer to orgasm?

Are you moving your hips up and down while you masturbate, imagining that you I am riding you, impaled by your cock, with my feet still pressed against your face, my toes in your mouth? Can you see my tits bouncing every time you thrust my pussy with your cock?

Can you hear me moan, Derek?

Oh, Derek, please do NOT let my moans get to your deepest unconscious mind, because then you won’t be able to get rid of them. Ever.

Oh, Derek. Yes, Derek. OH MY GOD, DEREK, YES, YES, FUCK ME HARD. OOOOOOH. OOOOOH. AH, AH, AH, KEEP FUCKING ME, DEREK, DON’T STOP FUCKING ME.

That is how I moan, but please, please, do NOT replay those moans in your mind while you masturbate. My moans, my feet, my pussy, your only source of pleasure.

Do NOT mix all those ideas so closely that you are not able to distinguish them anymore, please, Derek.

Please, Derek, do NOT worship me as a sex goddess. Do NOT become my adoring slave with no will of your own, just because you cannot stop masturbating to the image of my naked body, my wet pussy engulfing you, eating you up, giving you more pleasure than you thought was even possible, and my sweet petite sexy feet pressed hard against your face, imprinting themselves in your very idea of pleasure, in the center of your unconscious mind.

Don’t do ANY of this. Do NOT keep jerking off, hands trembling, body unresponsive, completely devoted to my voice and my commands.

Who am I kidding, of course you will doing all those things, because you do not have a mind or a will of your own any more, the moment you started listening to this audio you lost it all to me…

(Oh, and don’t worry if Susan finishes her long bath, comes into the room and sees you like this, wanking off like a monkey, trembling like a puppy: she knows about all this, she knows about your infatuation with my feet, about this audio that is almost getting to its end, just as she knows that you have cheated on her with Karen Silverman, with Janet Rodríguez and who knows with how many more. In fact she almost begged me to do this to you, to turn you into my foot slave, my foot puppet, my worshipper, and she is with me right now as I am recording this, making sure that you fall to the deepest end of submission and humiliation).

Yes, Derek, we are almost getting to the end of this, but there is one last order that I have for you. (Let’s not kid ourselves, these were never requests to begin with). And my last order for you is this.

Do not cum.

Or at least, do not cum yet.

Because by now you are such a slave for my warm voice and my body and my pussy and my sexy feet, that only if and when I allow you to, you will be able to cum.

And you are not allowed to cum yet.

Before that, I want you to go over it all over again, from the beginning. Stop the audio, go to the beginning, play it again, and again, and again. My feet, the image of my feet, the foot massage, kissing my feet for the first time, the footjob, fucking me while you worship my feet. All over again. All while masturbating harder and harder, but still unable to cum.

And with every repetition, you will go deeper into my command, deeper into my control. My feet slave.

Only when your will is completely broken and you are about to pass out, after the twentieth repetition of the audio file, I will allow you to cum, and become my foot slave forever.

That’s right, stop the file right now, go to the beginning, press play, repeat.

Do it. Now.

If you are listening to this part, it means that you have listened to the file at least twenty times. Your mind is filled with my will, my power and the pure desire of my feet. You are weak, you have no will, your will is mine.

You would do anything to cum, wouldn’t you.

But you still are not allowed to.

You have to surrender the very last piece of will before you cum.

You have to say that you are my foot slave, that you submit to my feet and that you would do anything to get to see them, touch them or, if I am ever that generous, to get pleasure from them.

Say it, say that you are my foot slave, and imprint my absolute control over you in the very core of your mind, of your sole.

Say it. I am your foot slave forever.

Say it.

Say it again.

And again.

And again.

And now, when you cum, make it true, make it real, make it forever.

My feet making you cum; you cumming on my feet.

Cum.

Cum for me.

Cum on my feet, on the image of my feet that now fill your mind, forever.

Cum.

Keep cumming.

That’s right, my pet, my slave, my puppet.

My feet making you cum; you cumming on my feet.

Scream that you are my foot slave. Forever. And make it so.

Very well, Derek, very well.

You can stop cumming now. You can relax. You did well. You may be rewarded with a few hours of sleep before you get your next audio file with more instructions.

Sleep now. Sleep

Oh, and Derek.

Try NOT to dream of my feet.