The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Halloween is not about witchcraft and magic. It’s not about mystery and wonder. It’s not about lost souls and lost loves. Halloween is about candy and dressing up. At least, that’s how I see it.

I didn’t always like Halloween, but everything is a lot more fun since I’ve developed my little “trick.” Occasionally, I like to spread my good fortune around. You should see the crap people give out on Halloween these days. Some poor kid comes home dragging a bag filled with cheap candy, sour things wrapped in cellophane, raisins and maybe a toothbrush. A toothbrush, for goodness’ sake!

Screw that. I give out good old chocolate bars. Yes, I buy actual candy bars, why not? My lifestyle provides me a certain financial freedom. Tonight, I was going through quite a few of them. I think some were coming back twice. They did have to show a little restraint, though. Parents and other responsible guardians follow most kids, a sign of the times.

I really wasn’t planning anything out of the ordinary tonight, but one guardian changed my mind. She was amazing. I mean, it’s like one of my fantasies come to life, and I’ve had a lot of fantasies come to life. She looked like some sort of sexy librarian. She isn’t one, though. She’s a little too young and she doesn’t seem used to wearing that kind of outfit.

It’s quite an ensemble, by the way. Her long skirt and fitted jacket provide a good idea of the killer body she must have underneath. On the other hand, her ruffled blouse manages to hide any hint of her true endowments. The best part, though, is her face. She has a great smile. Her brown hair is tied into a bun, revealing her silky skin, slate blue eyes and the eyeglasses. They are absolutely fantastic! The frames are black plastic with large round lenses. You just don’t see that kind of thing anymore.

The costume is perfect, all the way down to those low heels. She couldn’t have been a parent, I was just hoping that she was legal. Just because you can do anything you want doesn’t mean you should. First things first, I handed out candy to all the little tykes. My librarian then came up to me with that mixture of admiration and apprehension that is afforded someone who blows that much money on Halloween candy.

By way of introduction, I inquired, “No bag?”

She smiled briefly. “No bag,” she answered. “These guys would just get to it before I came back, anyway.” Perfect, she must be going out later. A detour is in order. The girl’s charges were comparing candy as she continued with me. “You know, I haven’t seen anyone handing out regular-sized candy bars before.” I began to gaze into her eyes in earnest. “When I, I mean, when my parents were younger, they used to get them, but, um, now, what was I saying?” She trailed off. They’re so cute when they’re helpless.

Experience told me that she was pretty much where I wanted her. “Take my hand,” I instructed. She did, and I was able to remove any little bit of hesitance left over. I whispered to her so the kids wouldn’t hear. “What’s your name?”

“Brenda,” she said.

“How old are you, Brenda?”

“Eighteen.”

Let the fun begin. “Are you going to a party by yourself later?”

“No, I’m going with friends,” Brenda explained.

“Could you get away if you came down with a headache, for instance?”

“Um, I guess so.”

“I’m afraid that you are going to experience a fairly unpleasant headache within half an hour of arriving. Don’t worry, though. You’ll feel a need to come back to this house, where I have a very effective cure.” It’s true, women no longer have a headache in my presence.

I had to finish up then. One of the increasingly annoying children was tugging at her skirt, possibly enough to bring Brenda out of her trance. “Brenda, when I let go of your hand you will have no memory of our conversation. Do not bring anyone back to this house with you. Do not come here if it arouses suspicion.” I let go of her hand. In a few moments, she noticed little Johnny Impatient bugging her. “All right,” she said, exasperated, “Let’s go.” She looked at me with an apologetic smile, like she hadn’t been standing frozen for three minutes.

What I did was actually pretty stupid. Brenda might live over on the next block. Maybe I’ll run into her at the supermarket next week. She won’t remember, but it still wasn’t wise. I was always testing myself discreetly, trying to see what I was smart enough to get out of. If I really wanted a challenge, I suppose I could have “zapped” all the kids and locked them in a closet and had my way with Brenda in the living room. Then again, I certainly would prefer being caught with an 18 year old with no drugs in her system instead of with her and three costumed minors hidden in the basement.

The hour or so before show time gave me a chance to set up the cameras and the other paraphernalia. I have absolutely no idea when she will be able to get here. If she gets hammered enough in thirty minutes she might not even notice a headache. I’ve had the rare fumble in my time, but they all taught me valuable lessons about the human mind.

It’s now an hour and a half after my initial encounter, I’m out of candy and getting disappointed. I start on a spare chocolate bar that my nutritionist/concubine certainly wouldn’t approve of. There’s no need to worry, though. I hear a knock at my door. I check at the window and see that it is her. I open the door and ask her to come in.

“Um, excuse me,” she says. “Do you have, like, any aspirin?” Not bothering to give her any precise instructions, Brenda is trying to come up with a reason for being in a strange man’s house.

“Sure,” I say. “Why don’t you come over here and sit while I go get it.”

“Okay.” Now seated, I place my hand over Brenda’s, reestablishing my control.

“Sleep, Brenda.” She sighs softly as her head drops. Her glasses slide a little further down her nose. “Listen to me, Brenda. Your headache is completely gone, replaced by a wonderful feeling of well-being and happiness.” She moans slightly in response. “In fact, you feel so good that you want to answer all of my questions and do whatever I tell you. Will you do what I tell you, Brenda?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great. I’m going to count to three now. When I reach three, you will wake up, relaxed, refreshed, happy and obedient. One, two, three.” I stand as her head rises and her eyelids flutter open. “Let me just get that aspirin, now,” I say.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I feel, I feel good, really good.” A confused smile appears on her face.

“I’m glad. By the way, when are you expected home?”

Seeing this question as perfectly acceptable, Brenda looks at her watch and says, “My dad won’t call the cops until after midnight.”

“So, at least two hours then.”

“Sure,” she says. “Maybe I should go back to the party.”

“The party ended already, Brenda. You were on your way home”

“Oh, that’s right, I was on my way home,” she says, convincing herself of the certainty of my fiction.

I decide to take her mind off my little suggestion. “That’s a great costume. Sort of a sexy librarian, isn’t it?”

She smiles. “Actually, I think of it as a slutty librarian.” She chooses to tease me a little by pulling her glasses down and focusing those blue eyes on me from over the top of the frames.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I reply, unconvinced. “You’re look very nice, but there’s nothing too ‘slutty’ about your clothes.”

“You haven’t seen me dance,” she jokes.

“No, I haven’t, but I’d like to. Dance for me, Brenda.”

“Okay,” she says, getting up. “Do you have some, you know, music?”

“I think I might have something.” I put on a song I have ready for the women who feel a sudden desire to dance for me. When the music starts to play, I move my chair next to a hidden camera. I want to get a good angle on this.

Brenda is really quite good. She doesn’t dance so much as she sways from side to side, slowly, precisely. I guess this is what they teach in school instead of math now. All her clothes are still on, but I become aware of the very high slit in that tight plaid skirt. She slides her palms over her chest, giving her breasts a little push before her hands meet at the back of her neck. She unpins the bun in her hair, but slowly, so that shakes out piles and piles of lustrous chestnut tresses around her face. She even sucks gently on a few strands.

I think I’ll test just how sexy this dance is. “Wow, that’s really hot, Brenda. In fact, you must be getting more and more turned on every second of this dance.” She gasps as my suggestion begins to take hold. Her teasing motions are more urgent now, as she begins to touch herself. Brenda unfastens the skirt and I see her moistening white cotton panties, setting off her creamy skin as much as the dark stockings that only come up mid-thigh. At least, I see this before she brings her hands down to provide some relief.

This is fun, but I actually had a game planned that would require less slut and more librarian. “Brenda, don’t touch yourself, it’s not ladylike.” Her hands drop uselessly to her sides as she whimpers in frustration. Oh yeah, she’s still getting really horny from the dancing. “You can stop dancing now, and when you do, the urge to pleasure yourself will subside.”

Brenda takes a look at her situation. “My skirt’s on the floor. I think I should put it back on.”

“Yes, you should,” I answer. “There’s a bathroom over there where you can compose yourself. Take your time, I want to see that same impeccable librarian who came to my door tonight.”

“Okay,” she chirps, walking over to the bathroom.

I like her, she’s very agreeable. She’s also suggestible enough for my evil intentions. It’s so seldom that I have a woman over here with all my good props and equipment. I’m very well set up when Brenda emerges, looking, well, looking impeccable.

“You look very nice,” I state cordially.

“Thank you.”

“Brenda, would you like to help me with a little performance?”

“I guess so,” she replies with a little hesitation.

“Good, then take my hand, please.” She does. “Relax, Brenda.” Her eyes glaze over a little behind the glasses while her posture deflates. “When I let go, you will still feel that desire to do and believe whatever I say. You will also believe that you have a cool new job in the library located in the room over there. All you have to do is show people over to that bookshelf on the wall. Doesn’t that sound easy?”

“Yes,” she manages to answer in her state.

“Okay, you should go sit at the desk over there, because I will be coming in for assistance in a moment.” I let go of her hand and let her get settled at the desk.

By the time I come over, she’s fully in work mode. “How may I help you, sir?” She asks with obvious poise.

“I’m looking for some books on hypnosis,” I try not to laugh while saying it.

“All right. Let’s just go over to the shelves here.” My bookshelves are actually filled with hypnosis texts. I suppose someone would think it’s like a car enthusiast with a bunch of books on bicycles, but there is some really useful stuff in there for the man who didn’t know exactly what to do with the girls after he put them under.

“So miss, do you think this hypnosis stuff really works?”

Brenda thinks for a moment. “It exists, so there’s something to it. I guess it’s up to each person to decide how much it works.” What a great answer. I wonder what her GPA is.

“Oh, that’s good. You see, I have this pendant. Anyone I show it to becomes mesmerized by it. Would you like to see it.”

She starts to giggle. “If that’s true, I think I’d have to decline your offer.”

With the pendant palmed in my hand now, I respond to her. “It’s absolutely true.” I produce the item inches away from her face. “See, you can’t resist. You can’t look away. You’re completely in my power right now, aren’t you?”

“I am, sir.”

“Call me master.”

“Yes, master.”

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’ll be completely unable to tell me anything but the truth. What’s your GPA?”

“It’s three-point-eight, master.”

“Good, master is pleased. Those aren’t really your glasses, are they?”

“No, master.”

“Do you wear glasses?”

“I used to, master. I wear contact lenses now.”

I had to frown at that. “Why would you do such a thing?”

I could see her head hang slightly as she answers. “Boys think I’m too smart as it is. If I wore glasses all the time, they’d ignore me completely.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me tell you something about guys. The ones who don’t like smart women are controlling jerks who have problems with anyone with their own opinions. You’ll find plenty of guys who will like you for you.” Not to mention that they’ll like Brenda for her fantastic body. I’d feel good about what I said except for the naughty impulse I have to tell her to forgo men altogether and become a lesbian. My problem is that I care too much. I’m not here to console troubled teens, though.

“Look in my eyes,” I command. “Just look straight ahead into them. Don’t think about any other boys, only about me. I want you to take off your clothes. Do it slowly, carefully, and lay them on the table. When you’re done, unpin your hair, but leave your glasses on.”

I’m no good at this improvised stuff. I should have given her a script or something. She’s probably even smart enough to come up with something on her own that I’d like. I shouldn’t complain, though. I have a sexy half naked honor student stripping in my den. Perspective, you have to keep your perspective.

“I’m done, master.” Whoops, kind of forgot about Brenda there, waiting for commands.

“Not quite done, Brenda.” I walk back up to her. “The other advantage of wearing glasses is the way it feels when someone takes them off to kiss you.” With practiced grace, my fingers connect with the sides of the frames. I gently lift up a little and pull them forward, past her ears, then temples, disturbing the hair around her cheeks. I hear her slow exhalation. “That was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” is her only response. Putting her glasses down, I kiss Brenda and run my fingers through her silky hair.

I whisper in her ear. “You’re so clever and sexy. Use your hands to take my pants off.” I nuzzle her neck while Brenda looks down long enough to figure out my belt buckle. She manages well enough while I get my shirt off. Damn! I forgot about the questionnaire. “Brenda, honey.”

She looks into my eyes again. “Yes, master?”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No, master.” She looks heartbroken.

“Actually, I prefer that.” She perks up. “Do you use protection? Are you on the pill?”

“Yes, master. No, master.”

“You can stop calling me ‘master’ now. Do you have any blood borne or communicable disease?”

“No.”

“All right, and when was your last physical?”

“I had one last year for the soccer team.” Ooh, an athlete.

“Good girl. Do you remember your sexy dancing for me before and the way you felt.”

“Yeah,” she answers dreamily.

“Those feelings became weaker, but they didn’t go away. There’s reemerging right now, getting stronger and stronger.” From the way Brenda is moaning and rocking back and forth, I can only assume that I’ve gotten through. “You’re really sexy. Would you like to show me how sexy you are?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Go to it.” She proceeds to go down on me. A lot of them do that. Personally, I’m not a huge fan. It seems awfully one-sided, particularly when most guys actually have to arouse women by physical means. Now I think, “oh wow!” Brenda is very talented and absolutely focused on the task at hand. Her lips are so warm and soft, and that tongue is so limber. I just want to, well, I’d like to, but I really don’t think I’m good for a second go around in the time I have left. After a groan, I tell Brenda to disengage herself from me.

Well, hell, I’ve pretty much killed the fantasy by now. Serves me right for not finding a real librarian and controlling her in the stacks. I hold out my hand. “Come to bed,” I say. Brenda responds gratefully and follows me.

The reality is pretty good, too. Brenda is a great example of why men lust after 18 year old girls. Her body is the kind of perfection only possessed by the young. At the bed now, I give her some more suggestions. “I do this sort of thing all the time, so I’m very good at making women happy. Are you happy, Brenda?”

“Yeah.”

I start to kiss her and my hand soon finds its way between her legs. I can tell she’s not quite ready since cleaning up from before. I give her some more suggestions. “Brenda, you’re getting very hot. You’re getting hotter and wetter all the time.” Her response is much more vocal as my fingers play along that wonderfully tight pussy.

I like the dress up games and the play acting, but this is definitely the best part. Brenda is still getting hotter and wetter and I’m just about keeping up. It’s just too bad I’m so good. Sure, I use mind control on women, but I’ve learned a thing or two from sheer volume alone. But my timing is also good and I get her there just before me, so I get to really feel Brenda come.

Oh boy, there’s maybe a half hour left and she’s going to need 15 to get home. On the bright side, Brenda looks cute sitting naked at my computer. I had her put the librarian glasses back and she is typing out her vital statistics at a pretty good clip.

After I make sure that Brenda looks all pure and innocent again, I give her some final instructions. “Go straight to bed tonight. You will remember the party and leaving early, but you will remember you headache. After leaving the party, you’ll believe that you walked around fro a while. You felt better and went for some fast food. Do you eat fast food?”

“I do,” she says.

“That’s good.” It always helps to get your facts straight. “So you ate something that you might pick up at night. I’m going to call you later this week and say ‘fun is a slutty librarian.’ You will then want to obey me again. Do you understand everything I’ve said?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Now hurry home.” Brenda can sprint pretty well in those flats. I hope she doesn’t get winded. I look at the computer. Ten blocks, I hope she paces herself. Personally, it’s time for bed. I’m going to the library tomorrow.