The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Haley gripped the plastic handle of the picnic basket with both hands in a diminutive manner and gazed up at the apartment building. She could hear the muffled bass of loud music through the windows above her, thumping alongside the occasional high pitched and revelrous yelling. She tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat, made all the more difficult by the way she craned her neck, but her anxiety grew by the second.

“Haley.”

Haley knew that she could just go home. She could simply turn around, walk the six blocks back to her apartment, and lose herself in a book. Or a television show. Or a video game.

“HALEY!”

Haley jumped and brought her had back down with a start and stared wide-eyed at the source of the insistent voice: a sexy Frankenstein.

“C’mon, please, we’re already late and I’m not missing any more of the party,” pleaded the tall woman in the tattered suit. Her friend, Jess, had always gone all-out on her Halloween costumes. The green facepaint and the two metal bolts attached to her head made her scowl legitimately disconcerting.

“S-sorry,” stammered Haley. The wavy-haired brunette adjusted her Germanic Little Red Riding Hood costume and quietly lamented the short length of the skirt for the dozenth time that day. Haley was unaccustomed to such clothing: sheer black leggings, heels, and deep cleavage that the costume insisted on pressing up. Haley’s awkward and insecure posture betrayed it all.

“It’s just… I think I might go home and change. I feel like some lascivious Oktoberfest fantasy.”

“Absolutely not,” her friend put her hands on her hips, her exasperation clear on her face. “I just told you, we are already late. You know I wait all year for Halloween and we are not wasting any more time. Let’s. Go.”

Haley deflated with a groan and followed her through the front door of the old brick apartment building. Positioned just off Haley’s college campus, the building had been repurposed as student housing and had suffered as a result. Countless parties, large and small, had left their scars, but Haley had to admit the building had character.

She tried to focus on the age of the building as they climbed the stairs to the third floor, but her attempt to side-track her own thoughts could not alay her anxiety. Though she was now a junior, Haley had only ever been to a small handful of parties in her time at college. Despite Jess’ best efforts, she had been a steadfast homebody who enjoyed her time alone in her room. It wasn’t that Haley didn’t enjoy the company of others, but she had never felt comfortable making new friends. Small talk was simply not something she was proficient in and she was prone to making others even more uncomfortable than she was. In addition, her sheltered upbringing made her nervous around alcohol, nevermind drugs and sex.

Jess didn’t bother knocking on the door. The entire floor had essentially merged into one huge party with patrons in a variety of gaudy, unique costumes drinking in the hallway. Haley felt Jess grab her hand and drag her through the mess and into the dark, thumping apartment.

Cheap strobe lights flashed and sent light dancing across the walls and ceiling. Her costume was not heavy by any means, but she could already feel the heat of the room on her skin, generated by the crushing crowd of people and the mixture of excitement and anxiety that only a party can give.

“Who lives here, again?” Haley tried to shout to Jess over the din. Her friend didn’t hear her though. Instead, she shrieked and threw her hands up, rushing to hug another woman in a furry bear costume. Haley didn’t recognize the girl. She had always envied her friend’s ability to socialize with anyone. Haley had known her since high school and while she still considered Jess to be her only friend, Jess had blossomed into a social butterfly in the past two years at college. Haley gripped the basket and felt her mood drop. Is this jealousy? she wondered, or is it inevitable that she’ll move on from me, and I’ll be left-

“HEY!”

Despite all the noise, the voice in her ear had her jumping out of her skin. She turned sharply, wide-eyed. A tall, wiry man, beer bottle in hand stood closely. Around her age, maybe a few years older. Dark, short, moppy hair and a scruffy beard contrasting his pale skin.

“I don’t think I know you,” he half shouted with a grin. Haley just stared, lips moving ineffectually as she struggled to figure out what to say. His grin widened.

“Damon,” he put his hand out and she took it. Again, she paused. She could feel her chest tighten and the heat rise up into her cheeks as her anxiety spiked. Relax, she tried to tell herself, it’s just a boy. It’s just a party. All you have to do is say hello. He introduced himself so introduce yourself too?

“Haley,” she finally blurted out with a start. He just smiled and gave her hand a light shake. “I, um, here with --” she gestured haphazardly in the direction of Jess, who was still chatting loudly with her other friends. She hated talking to strangers. She hated it even more when she was in a strange place, without her friend to stabilize her. She was getting light-headed.

Damon seemed to recognize her discomfort with an astute gaze. “You need a drink, come on,” he half-shouted and without letting go of her hand, guided her to the makeshift bar in the living room. He shuffled through the bottles a moment before turning and handing her a shot-glass.

“Oh! No, really, I’m sorry. I don’t actually drink!” she shouted as she attempted to return the glass to him.

He looked incredulous, then shook his head. “Well, tonight you do!” He placed his hand on hers and pushed it and up toward her face. Haley was so struck by the strength in his hand and the sheer audacity with which he’d acted, she downed the drink without a second thought.

Her immediate regret was visible all across her face and body and she half-gagged, half-coughed. Her throat burned. She had only ever had liquor once before in her life: a mere sip of whiskey that her parents had offered her at Christmas two years prior. Haley fanned her hand at her open mouth as her new companion laughed.

“Wow, you really don’t drink, do you?”

Haley shook her head and struggled to speak. “I’ve never had a shot before… What was that!?”

“Vodka. Here, you can wash it down with this,” he held a beer out to her, but Haley hesitated. He smiled. “Trust me, it’s better than what you’re tasting now.”

Grimacing, Haley accepted the bottle and took a drink. While not finding it to taste any better, she was very grateful for the relief it granted from the vodka. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she offered a sheepish smile. “Alright, yes, you were right.”

Already she could feel the warmth of the alcohol in her belly, calming and pleasant. The shy girl’s anxieties were rapidly dissipating as Damon took charge of their interaction again.

“You look like you’re big into books, am I right?” He eyed her discerningly.

“Y-yes! Absolutely. Well, lots of things, really, movies, music, comics… I really like Lord of the Rings and--” Haley felt her excitement spilling over into a rant and cut herself off by taking one particularly long drink from her beer bottle, both hands wrapped around the cool damp glass at once. Silently, she chastised herself and expected him to be put off by her awkward display. Instead, he laughed and spoke simply.

“Cool,” he nodded, and took a drink of his own. “I actually live here, want to come check out my collection?”

Haley froze momentarily. “Like, in your room? The two of us? Alone?” Again, she blushed and grimaced inwardly for speaking aloud what should have been thoughts. Haley had never been intimate with another person, but she understood a man’s intentions when he brought a girl back to his room.

Again though, he surprised her by just laughing. “Well, there are quite a few others in there right now, so, no, not exactly.” Reaching out, he took one of her hands away from the beer bottle and held it as he moved to take her through the crowded room. “Come with me.”

Haley was too bewildered by the entire situation to argue and allowed herself to be pulled along by the strong grip of this strange man she’d met only minutes prior. She felt completely out of her element and had no idea how to react, but Haley had been told a hundred times that she needed to get out of her comfort zone. I guess this is it, time to plunge in and start something new!

Glancing behind her, Haley caught Jess’s eye. Her friend looked shocked, but as their gazes met, she broke into an enormous smile and gave Haley two thumbs up. Haley offered a small wave in return and allowed herself to be pulled along.

Damon took her to the back of the vast apartment, down a narrow hallway and up a small set of steps. There, he pushed open a door adorned with several posters of bands. An enormous amount of smoke came rolling out as he did, causing Haley to step back. Damon gripped her hand tightly, preventing her from moving too far away. The pungent smell hit her hard, completely unlike anything she had ever smelled before. Inside, the bedroom had dark blue walls strung with Christmas lights and covered in posters of bands and movies.

“What is that?” she exclaimed, fanning the air in front of her face with her free hand. “Your friends smoke cigarettes? I think there’s something wrong with them…”

Damon laughed hard at this and tugged her into the room. “Yeah, that isn’t cigarette smoke. Close the door, would you?”

Haley hesitated at this. “But, the smoke is so thick, wouldn’t it be better to let it out?”

A bewildered look overtook her new friend’s face, but then he leaned past her, closing the door behind them. “No, it’s better this way. You’ve really never smoked weed before either?”

Haley shook her head, blushing with embarrassment. “I’ve never smoked anything at all, to be honest…”

Damon cocked his head, the faint smile returning to his face. “Hey, you know, first time for everything. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

Haley’s eyes widened. “Oh, n-no, really… I don’t think I should.”

“You’re sure? It’s just weed. Nothing hard or anything.”

“Really,” she said, bowing slightly and avoiding eye contact. She thought back to Jess giving her the thumbs up, and her inner struggles to try new things. “But, I’ll sit with you, and watch? You can show me.”

Damon shrugged and guided her to the circle of all-male college students, some sitting cross-legged on the ground, others on the bed or propped against the far wall.

“Everyone, this is Haley,” he extended his free hand outward. “Haley, these are the boys.”

Several half-hearted hellos rose up from the group. A young man in a baseball cap shifted his eyes upward in her direction, his mouth still pressed to the enormous blue glass bong in his hands. Haley recognized it from movies and television. She may not have had any real-world experiences herself, but she had lived vicariously through television enough not to be completely ignorant of these things.

Baseball Cap straightened up and held his breath for what felt like an eternity to Haley, until finally exhaling a plume of smoke in her direction. Haley scrunched up her nose, finding the smell… Difficult.

“By all means,” Baseball Cap handed the bong to Damon, who gestured for Haley to sit with him. She did so, her body stiff and shaky with anxiety. The burning of the alcohol in her belly gave some small relief to that, and so she had no problem accepting when another shot glass was shoved into her hand by a thin, silent man. Downing it and grimacing, she repeated the process of washing the burning taste out with her beer.

“Here, watch me,” said Damon as he lit a small pocket lighter and held it to the bong. Haley tried to watch his fingers as he held it in a specific manner but felt lost as to how the thing worked. Damon inhaled especially deeply before looking straight at her. She met his gaze and matched his smile before he exhaled directly into her face.

Haley inhaled sharply in surprise, causing her to choke on the smoke. She began to cough, hack, and inhale again. Everyone in the circle began laughing, and before Haley had recovered from her coughing fit, Damon had already inhaled again. She had just calmed down, her hands on her chest and her face flush, when he unloaded into her face once more.

“St-stop!” she gasped, trying to catch her breath through the coughing fit. She could taste the smoke, and her coughing fit was making her light-headed. Combined with her low tolerance for the alcohol, she was quickly growing dizzy.

Damon handed the bong off to the long-haired man who was now sitting on the other side of her. Through watery eyes, Haley could see him taking another hit from the bong. Just as Damon did, this man took his time inhaling. Before the dazed girl could recover, he scooted closer to her and positioned himself inches from her face. Haley reflexively put a hand on his shoulder as if to push him away, but her thoughts short-circuited when he began slowly expelling the smoke into her face as well. It felt like an eternity to Haley. She began to fall backward but was caught by Damon’s strong hands. He had shifted behind her, holding her shoulders and head in place and preventing her from escaping the cloud which was rapidly enveloping her face and head.

She gasped and sputtered, her words coming out in a forced wheeze. “Wh-at are you… Do-ing?”

The two men ignored her as the others in the room continued their laughter. Just as she would regain her bearings and catch her breath, another puff of smoke would hit her in the face. She knew that the room had been thick enough with smoke from the start that she’d likely get a contact high, and now with the extra smoke blown in her face she was already starting to feel the effects. This combined with her intoxication and lack of oxygen sent the room spinning.

Her vision dimmed and the walls swam. Suddenly, she was staring upward at a ceiling fan, lazily turning. She found herself mesmerized by the way it pushed and pulled up the smoke in the room and whirled it outward.

How much time has passed? she wondered. She could hear others talking in the room, glasses clinking, the low throbbing of the bass from the next room. She folded her hands across her belly. Her entire body felt heavy, as though it had been poured into the bean bag chair in which she lay. Where had this chair come from? Wasn’t Damon here? She scowled. Shadows moved past her and she could not find the energy to raise her head to look.

She blinked and the room was dim now. She could see the orange lights strung along the ceiling, nearly lost in the haze of the smoke. The distant bass was gone. In fact, there was no sound at all. Haley struggled to push herself up in the bean bag chair, the malleable thing giving way in each place she attempted to place the weight of her hands. She knew she was still drunk. Still high.

“Stay put,” two hands pressed onto her shoulders from behind, sinking her further into the chair and undoing her progress toward getting out. Damon, she thought, calm again. From where he kneeled behind her, she could not see him, but she felt reassured by his presence.

“Where, uh, w-where is everyone?” she slurred, one eye half-open.

“Just outside,” he assured her, still holding her down. One hand began to softly caress her neck and upper chest. “They’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

Despite her intoxication, part of Haley still recognized his advances for what they were. She grasped his hand with her own and looked dumbly at it. “Hey uh, I…” It was so difficult to speak. “I think I better head hooome…” The final word coming out as a long, dull whine.

“Hush,” he whispered harshly into her ear, one hand slipping up under her jaw. “Listen to me. Purse your lips.” In her dulled state, she wasn’t able to consider his request. It was just easier to do it. She could see a flickering light come into view just above her face. The lit end of something, dark and small. He placed it to her lips and she could taste the paper and the sickly sweet marijuana within. “Inhale,” he spoke firmly. And she did, pulling the heady smoke deep into her lungs.

“Good girl,” she felt his whisper, warm on her ear. “Nice and deep. Now hold it, as long as you can. This is my very special blend. You’re going to love it.”

Haley held the smoke in her lungs as best she could, but inevitably broke down into yet another coughing fit. Damon didn’t seem upset, simply waiting for her to finish before yet again placing the joint to her lips and having her repeat the process.

Haley could feel her body growing heavy. There was a tingling deep in her thighs, and it felt wonderful as the nerves seemed to fire and dance up into her abdomen and through the space between her legs. In a daze, she continued to inhale, hold, and exhale to a rhythm that Damon began to dictate to her. She was coughing less now, losing her focus along with herself in the hazy orange lights. Dimly, she recognized Damon’s fingers working their way up her right leg and up under the hem of her costume. That small remaining part of her thought to say something again, but the idea was cut short by his words.

“Listen carefully now, Haley. Listen and drift. Drift and sway. Let your thoughts go now, like smoke into the air. Easy to picture, isn’t it? Every word and thought in your head being twisted up and dissipated…”

Damon twirled a finger through the air in front of her. It was still so thick with smoke, she could see it curl around his hand as he gathered it up, made a fist, and flicked his fingers out all at once, sending the bit of smoke out in all directions.

He held the joint up in front of her face, still burning but much smaller now. “Watch the light now,” he gently waved it back and forth in front of her face. Haley found her eyes tracking it. “Watch how it burns down. Small cinders floating up and disappearing forever. Just like those thoughts. The flame works its way down through your head, burning those thoughts and sending them drifting away. Burning and drifting. Drifting and floating. And every thought that comes to your mind gets caught up in that flame and burns as well. Up in a puff of smoke where it is lost to the winds. That’s it. Just be a good girl and keep your eyes on that flame as it takes you away.”

His hand beneath her skirt worked up a little more now, pressing against her clit through her white silk panties. Now, instead of protesting, a moan escaped her body in the form of a relaxed sigh. Her hips pushed forward just slightly, the rest of her body squirming subtly in pleasure.

“Good, good,” he breathed into her ear. “That feels so good. Letting my fingers and all this pleasure fill in the space left behind by that rapidly depleting mind of yours. And that’s why there’s no reason to worry at all about your thoughts burning away and drifting away into smoke. Because I’ll be here to fill the space back in with all this pleasure. With all my words. With all my ideas.”

His fingers began circling her clit, picking up their pace as he continued speaking. Haley’s hand came up and gripped the sleeve of his shirt, not to pull him away, but out of a simple need to hold him as her body was washed over with pleasure. Her breath came heavy now, and all the world was covered in a blurry finish. The only thing that came through clearly was the lit end of the paper in Damien’s hand.

“See how the flames tear sear through this paper, tearing it apart at a microscopic level and allowing the ashes to slip away,” he droned on in her ear. His voice was so close. So warm. It buzzed through her vulnerable brain. “It does the same to your mind. Unzipping the pieces. Tearing them apart, and allowing them to drift away.”

His hand was moving faster now. Haley arched her back as she lost the last bit of control that she had over her body and bit her lower lip.

“And as the flame nears the end and burns down to the bottom, so too does your mind,” he whispered. Haley whimpered, acknowledging that the embers had nearly reached his fingers. It would all be gone soon, as would she.

“That’s a good girl. And you’re going to let it all go for me. You’re going to relax and let yourself go. Let the last of yourself disappear into the air. Disappear into the smoke. A good little smokey-headed slave for me, aren’t you?”

Haley could only moan in reply. Everything was reaching a fever pitch. The drugs, the alcohol, Damon’s fingers. She was no longer present. She was drifting outside of her body. Drifting in the smoke.

“That’s it. Ready to go. Ready to cum and fall away. Give your body up to me,” he hissed. His fingers were insistent now, not allowing her a moment’s respite as she squirmed beneath him.

“Now, drop.”

He spoke the words sharply as the last of the embers burned away. He blew on his hand, sending ashes and bits of burned paper out into the air, sprinkling Haley’s dress and thighs. At the same time, his fingers focused intensely on Haley’s clit. She tensed, and then with a sudden cry, her body spasmed and sank back down into the chair. Eyes rolling back into her head, her body twitched and squirmed for a full minute afterward. Any concerns she had about her present situation dissipated.Damon, however, was fully aware of the girl’s state. The drugs, the alcohol, his manipulating fingers and the interwoven induction which had guided her through it all had sent the hapless, naïve college student into a catatonic yet fully receptive state.

“Haley,” he whispered, his voice suddenly gentle. His hand left her clit and caressed her stomach gently. “You can still hear me, can’t you?”

“Yes,” she softly breathed the reply.

“Good, very good. Such a good girl for me, Haley. And you feel so good for me now, feeling all these things you’ve never felt before. All these brand-new experiences. But I’m here to guide you through them. I’m here to help you. And you do trust me, Haley. Don’t you?”

He paused and she nodded her head, letting it rest against his arm. Her hair spread angelically in all directions, framing her dazed and quietly panting face. Damon could see the dim lights reflecting off the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Then relax and put yourself in my hands,” he gently placed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Allow my words to drip down into that empty space in your head. I know you have no thoughts of your own left, so just let mine fill it up. Let my thoughts become your thoughts. You trust me, so this is easy, Haley. You trust me and so you accept my thoughts. You know that I know what’s best for you. I’m experienced. I’m older. I know what to do. So trust me and accept me, Haley.”

Another nod before he continued.

“You love this smoke. You need this smoke. See how good it has made you feel tonight? The smoke makes you empty. The smoke makes you weak.”

Damien reached into his pocket and revealed a new joint. He lit it, took a deep drag, and blew the smoke down across the drowsy woman’s face.

“It makes you feel so weak, and yet you feel so good. Feeling weak makes you feel good, doesn’t it Haley?”

“Yes,” the whisper was barely audible to him.

“Say it, Haley. Say it and visualize the words. See each word expand and encompass that silly, empty, listless head of yours.”

“Feeling weak… Feels good,” her body seemed to relax as she said it.

“The smoke makes you weak. Thus, the smoke makes you feel good. Repeat.”

“The smoke… Makes me feel weak. Smoke feels good...”

“That’s right. And it made you feel so good, right here...” his hand slipped down between her legs once more, fingers slipping down over her clit and eliciting a small gasp. “Made you so wet. So needy. It made you into a little Smoke Slut, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” she whimpered as his finger flicked back across her clit once more.

“Tell me what you are,” his fingers pressed against her more fervently now.

“A-a little S-Smoke Slut...” she gripped his arm tightly, the words spilling from her lips without recognition.

“The smoke is addicting. With every breath you take in this room, more and more of it enters you. It drifts and floats in your head, and it fills your lungs, and it becomes a part of you. It becomes necessary to your entire being. You need it to live, because you need it to feel this good again. And you want to feel this good forever, don’t you?”

“Y-yes...”

“Good girl,” he took a deep drag, then leaned down and kissed her. Her lips parted submissively for him, and allowed him to blow a deep lungful of thick smoke into her. This time she did not cough, but accepted it readily. He continued to kiss her, and the smoke began to come back through her nose. She felt vapid, empty, and entirely accepting in that moment. Always she had carried a certain degree of anxiety: always needing to perform well in her schooling, always needing to stay on top. Never knowing how to carry herself in social situations. But for the first time since she was a child, Haley felt entirely at peace. A deep relaxation permeated her body, and in particular in her abdomen.

Pulling back, Damon callously and possessively rubbed her breasts through her costume. “Empty as you are, you probably don’t even know your own name anymore, do you?”

Haley paused, her breath picking up again as he handled her. “...No...”

“No, because down here, amid the smoke, you are no one. You cannot think, and therefore you are not. You’re just something for me to play with. An object. A toy to be fucked. And if you are an object, as opposed to a person, you must belong to someone. Someone like me. Doesn’t that make sense?”

“...Yesss...” she slurred in reply. His fingers were kneading her more urgently now, handling her roughly.

“You’re here. In my hands. You belong to me, don’t you my little smoke slut?”

“Yes.”

“Repeat it. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me what you are.”

“I’m...” her voice faltered as his fingers pinched her nipple through the fabric. “I’m your… smoke slut. I belong… to you.”

Damon smiled down at her. “Poor thing. You’re all mine, now.”

He stroked her cheek with a thumb, then pulled away quickly at the sound of voices down the hall. The party had returned.