The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Kyle’s sure acting strange.” Mike observed as his homeroom classmate strode into the room.

“You mean more than usual?” Andrew asked, glancing over at the towheaded youth. “You know, you’re right, since when is Kyle cheerful?”

“I’m going to go ask him about it...”

“No, Mike, it’s probably none of our business anyway.” Andrew said. “He probably lost his virginity or something.”

“What are you smoking?” Mike asked. “The only way he gets any is if he puts his pecker in the vaccuum cleaner hose.” Andrew laughed at that. Not that they got any more than Kyle did, since they didn’t run with the rich kids, or the high fashion kids, or the “bad” kids, or the jocks. Mike was a redhead with a Puckishness about him that had won him some female friends, but none wanted to have sex with him. He had a talent for staring without appearing to stare, and without letting it shut down his other mental faculties. Andrew was an outsider whose black clothes, dark, straight hair framing his face, pale skin and multiple suspensions for smoking would label him as a Goth if it weren’t for his repeated, optimistic mating advances. He was a sucker for pheromone spam, and had seventeen different kinds of the stuff arrayed on his dresser from past, failed attempts. Both worked part time moving feed and hay at the local feed store, and had developed some muscle to show for it, but not as much as the jocks, and therefore, not enough to attract the ladies.

“What do you think it is, then?”

“I’ll go ask him.” Mike responded, unfolding his legs and hopping off his desk. Andrew was about to stop him, but Mike was already past whispering range. “Hey, Kyle.” Mike said. “What’s with the Joker face? You score or what?” Kyle turned to Mike with a scary kind of smile on his face.

“Not yet.” he responded cryptically. Mike backed away slowly, then returned to his desk, but sat in the chair this time.

“That was a scary-looking smile, man.” Andrew said. “Gave me the shivers from way over here.”

“You should have seen his eyes, like he sold his soul or something!” Mike responded, then shuddered. Homeroom passed without incident, and they moved on to first period, which, thankfully, Kyle did not share with the two friends. The young man did follow them, however, until he reached the office, at which point he opened the glass and metal door. Mike peered around the corner and saw him offer a bottle of Yoo-Hoo™ brand chocolate drink to the principal. “Kissing up to the principal?” he muttered. “Yo, Andrew, you think he’s going to sic Debo on us?” Debo was the students’ not-so-affectionate nickname for the principal, Mr. DeBeau.

“I dunno about you, bud, but I ain’t done nothin’ I ain’t been caught for already.” Andrew said. “Not unless you count peein’ in the Shamrock Motel swimming pool back in ‘88.”

“Maybe he’s gonna try and blackmail some girl into giving him head or something.” Mike pondered. “When I asked him if he’d scored, he gave me that scary look and said ‘not yet.’”

“Weird.” Andrew replied. The bell sounded loudly in their ears. “Shit! We’re late!” They rushed to class. Thankfully, Mr. Butler wasn’t there yet, and as long as they beat the teacher, they would be okay. Four minutes after the bell, Mr. Butler finally made his appearance, as usual scratching himself with his yardstick.

“Well, since everybody beat me here, I guess I don’t get to hand in a tardy slip this period.” Mr. Butler said. “Maybe next time.” Mr. Butler liked to play sadistic, but he was really an okay guy, as long as you didn’t break one of the rules relating to dress or language. Mike had run into the building moments before the bell one time, and had been wearing his favorite ball cap. Mr. Butler had yanked it right off his head as he had run, taken it to the office, with Mike close behind protesting, and run it through the paper shredder. The man no longer destroyed confiscated items since the time he had been sued for the auction value of an autographed Nolan Ryan cap he had shredded, but the memory still burned, and Mike had no love for the rotund little man.

“Attention students.” the principal’s voice said over the intercom. “Due to a recent strike, the people who usually deliver milk to the school cafeteria are not going to be delivering milk today. However, campus will still be closed. Anyone caught trying to sneak away during lunch will be penalized drastically. Just so you won’t have to eat the cafeteria food dry, I personally have purchased a large quantity of Yoo-Hoo chocolate drink, enough for the entire school to have one bottle, with some left over to be dispensed on a first-come, first-served basis. Secondly, as compensation for this inconvenience, the cafeteria staff will not be serving meatloaf today. Instead, they are going to prepare a special lunch for us consisting of actual fried chicken with chef salad as the alternative for the diet-conscious, mashed potatoes and gravy, rolls, and a free order of cheese sticks for everyone. Thank you.”

“I didn’t think the milk man was allowed to strike.” Andrew whispered. Mike shrugged.

“While there has been some controversy regarding whether or not Federal employees have the right to strike, it must be noted that the delivery drivers responsible for bringing milk to the school work for Borden, not the Federal government.” Mr. Butler stated. “I think Mr. DeBeau deserves credit for his quick, critical thinking in this situation.”

“Whatever.” Andrew muttered. Mike sat pondering this new development. He couldn’t forget seeing Kyle in the office giving Mr. DeBeau a bottle of Yoo-Hoo, and now Mr. DeBeau announcing that everyone would have a bottle. He was distracted the rest of the morning.

“You okay, man?” Andrew asked as they sat down at their table. “You’ve been, like, zoned out ever since Debo came on. You wondering if maybe there’s a connection with Kyle being in the office this morning?”

“Maybe.” Mike replied. “I dunno, it’s stupid.”

“I guess.” Andrew replied. “But I’m not gonna be the first one opening this, if you know what I mean.”

“Hey, you guys.” Timothy Larson said. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Go ahead.” Andrew responded. “It’s a free country.” Tim smiled and sat down. He was a shy, brown-haired drama student usually cast into the part of the little boy. He was a junior cursed with a baby face, slight build and allergies coming out his ears.

“Either of you want my Yoo-Hoo?” he asked. “I have this problem with real milk.”

“No, thanks.” Mike responded. He stared across the two tables between himself and Kyle, who had seated himself across from Lauren Hill (no relation to the famous one) and pulled a Yoo-Hoo from his pocket. Absently, he spun his bottle around, watching the scene unfold.

“Hey, either of you notice there’s no ingredients list on here?” Tim asked.

“Hey, you’re right.” Andrew said. “No expiration date, either.”

“Kyle pulled a real one out of his pocket.” Mike muttered. “Let’s see what happens.” Mike and Tim watched from their seats, while Andrew had to open his binder and pull out the mirror he used to make sure there was no food stuck in his teeth before going to class. Lauren drank half the Yoo-Hoo at intervals, but after that she seemed to be desperate to finish it. Even after the bottle was drained, she stuck her tongue in the bottle, trying to get the last of the stuff from within. Kyle said something, and she dropped the bottle, though he did save it from shattering on the table. He spoke to her for a few minutes, then Lauren stood up, like a soldier in the presence of a commanding officer. She followed Kyle robotically out of the cafeteria, toward the parking lot. The trio glanced around, quickly noticing that all the other students, and the faculty seated at the high table, were sitting with heads and bottles tilted back, tongues protruding into the necks to try to glean more of the chocolatey stuff from the bottles.

“Whoa.” Andrew muttered.

“We should tell somebody.” Tim suggested.

“Who?” Mike asked. “For all we know he probably drugged the cops too. It’s some kind of mind-control. Lauren walked out of here with Kyle like she didn’t have a thought in her head except obeying him.” Andrew sat thinking for a moment, then stood up with a wicked gleam in his eye. He headed straight for the cheerleaders’ table. Moments later, they were following behind the dark-haired young man like soldiers following their commander. Andrew grinned impishly as he and the cheerleaders filed out, heading for parts unknown. “Damn.” Mike muttered. “So much for him.”

“Should I have Ms. Stone try to analyze this?” Tim asked.

“If her mind still works, yes.” Mike responded, sliding the three bottles to Tim, who picked them up and went over to the high table, and whispered into Ms. Stone’s ear. The woman rose, blank-faced, and followed Tim out of the cafeteria as he headed for the chemistry lab.

Mike sat and pondered what to do next. Kyle had drugged the whole school just to get into Lauren Hill’s pants. Mike couldn’t help thinking that something should happen to make this backfire on him. His gaze fell upon Mr. Butler, and the memory of his favorite cap stung him again. Despite his best efforts, a wicked idea fluttered into his brain. He rose, marched toward the high table, and leaned across it to whisper in the fat man’s ear.

“I want you to go to the confiscations room and find the last cap you ever took up.” he whispered. “You will then go to your classroom and use your favorite stapler to affix the cap to your big, balding head, and after that, you will insert all the chalk in the classroom into your anus.” Mr. Butler rose mindlessly to his feet and walked out of the cafeteria to obey. A perverse satisfaction filled Mike. But what now? He glanced over the students all desperately trying to get the last tiny bit of drugged chocolate from their bottles.

“It appears to be some kind of drug with an artificial chocolate coating.” Ms. Stone chanted robotically.

“But what does it do?” Tim asked.

“Appears to be designed to suppress independent thought, initiative and resistence.” Ms. Stone replied. “I regognize some of the compounds. A person’s mind would be rendered quite helpless.”

Tim gently brushed his fingers across Ms. Stone’s hair as she sat mindlessly awaiting further instructions or questions. She looked so...helpless. It touched him. He’d always had a crush on her, and now here she was, completely dependent on his guidance, her empty eyes seeing nothing until he gave her a command that required the use of her vision. He caressed her relaxed face, wondering how old she was. Twenty-five? Thirty? She couldn’t possibly be older than forty, he guessed, though he realized he didn’t have to. “How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-nine.” she replied flatly. He caressed Ms. Stone’s body, surprising himself with the desire he felt.

“Are you married?”

“No.” she responded.

“Have any children?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“No one wants to marry a sterile woman.” she responded. This knocked Tim for a loop. She was sterile? So much for his wet dreams about watching her nurse their firstborn while largely pregnant with another.

“How did you become sterile?” he asked.

“I was raped by the school quarterback when I was twelve.” she responded. “He had the clap. They didn’t find out until it was almost too late. I nearly died, but they managed to clear out the infection. I’ve been afraid of strong men ever since.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Tim said.

“You two got that stuff figured out yet?” Mike asked from the doorway.

“Mike! Oh, uh, yeah.” Tim stammered, before turning back to Ms. Stone. “Stay here until I come back for you.” he whispered, then walked out of the room with Mike. “It’s a drug with chocolate coating in it. Lasts about twenty-four hours, renders the mind helpless, and basically turns them into living robots. A victim will accept anything without question.”

“Do you think what gets told to them lasts after it wears off?”

“I’d be careful what I say around the victims if I were you.” Tim said. “You could change them.”

“That’s what I suspected.” Mike said. “Kyle’s going to come back to school on Monday with a new pet.”

“We’ve got to do something.” Tim said.

“I intend to.” Mike responded, and drew out his wallet.

“I don’t want your money.” Tim said.

“Who said I was giving you money?” Mike asked, placing a condom in the youth’s hand. “You play nice with Ms. Stone, hear? Aw, who am I kidding, you’re a good kid. I know you ain’t gonna hurt her. Mind or body.” He patted Tim on the shoulder while he stared in shock at the condom. Mike was gone before Tim could muster his neurons to a protest.

Andrew lay on a pile of cheerleader uniforms, sleeping the sleep of the well-fucked. He’d had the girls turn on the heater in the dressing room so that none of them would get cold, and had spent quite a bit of time with them standing in two ranks of mindless nudity, dictating rules for them like a drill sergeant addressing first-day cadets, before his hormones had taken over and he’d ordered them to fuck him.

As far as he was concerned, this was the happiest day of his life.

After loading the trunk of his car with the cream of the crop from the confiscations room and the personal collections of various teachers and coaches, kept in cabinets and drawers and lockers, he’d realized the time and returned to the cafeteria. There he’d sought out Amy Hudson and Terisha Lindsay, the current contenders for student council president, and Joanna Simpson, a girl he’d had a crush on for a long time now, but was trapped in a posessive, abusive relationship with the captain of the wrestling team. Amy was a gorgeous redhead with perky breasts which needed no support, and in her tight T-shirt they formed their own cleavage. Terisha was a chocolate-skinned beauty whose black hair received a weekly perm to straighten it. Joanna had shining, blue-black hair and wintergreen eyes which had once glittered with happiness, but that glitter had been slowly snuffed by her rage-filled boyfriend. He led the three into the boy’s bathroom, and lined them up against the wall.

Mike was hard as a rock. Here were the three girls in all the school he would actually go out of his way to get into the bed with. His lips parted to utter a command, but at the last moment he stopped. What right did he have to take advantage of the three students he respected and cared for most in the school? Especially with their minds shut down and helpless. He sighed, feeling like a cad and a traitor. No, he wouldn’t do this.

“Girls, you know I care for you, that I would give a great many things for the ability to protect you. I just want you to know that from now on I’m going to do my best with what I have. I don’t want any of you to be jealous or anything, and especially not angry with me. Just let me guide you, and I’ll protect you to the best of my ability.” It sounded silly, but they weren’t complaining. He gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. “You may or may not know how helpless you are right now, how easy it would be for me to just strip you naked and bone your brains out right now. Just know I have more respect for you than that.”

He thought for a minute and decided he would do something about Joanna’s boyfriend. Leaving his trio in the restroom, he sought out the wrestling captain and led him to the kitchen, where he proceeded to ream the mentally-helpless young man out for his behavior. Then he told the youth he didn’t deserve to be Joanna’s boyfriend, that he should let her go to someone who deserved her, who would treat her like she was worth something, instead of treating her like a blow-up doll as he did. Then he went out into the main cafeteria and spoke up so everybody could hear him.

“Listen carefully.” he said. “You may do as you please, so long as it does not conflict with my orders. My word is your law. My enemies are your enemies. Right now, my enemy is Kyle Stark, the one who drugged Mr. DeBeau into giving you these drugged drinks which have left you mentally defenseless against anything which may be said to you. Next time you see him while you have wills of your own, you will show him just what you think of him.” They made no moves, since they had no initiative of their own, and Mike had given them no orders which required action. He gathered up the remaining samples of fake Yoo-Hoo and put them in his backpack, except for one which he kept in the refrigerator for when Kyle came back. He then led everyone out onto the front lawn and had them lie down, and went to the office to call for the EMS. He had handed his backpack with the samples of fake Yoo-Hoo to the paramedics and explained what Tim had told him when he remembered the girls. He ran back to the bathroom, collecting the girls, and loaded them into the back seat of his car, making sure they were well buckled up. He drove home, figuring there was nothing to be done until the drugs wore off, and he would rather not take up extra beds in the hospital. He placed Amy, Terisha and Joanna on his queen-sized bed and had them take a nap. Luckily his mom was at work, so he wouldn’t have to explain his posession of three drugged teenagers until five.

Tim snuggled with Ms. Stone on the counselor’s couch, his heart wrapped in the afterglow of the loss of his virginity, whispering soft endearments in his teacher’s ear. They kept warm using the fire blanket he’d taken from the chemistry lab, and he pillowed his head on her soft breast. He’d long dreamed of somthing like this, except in his dreams, she was willing, not mindless. Still, he felt he was doing his part by keeping her away from mind-warping words from outside while her mind idled, her will and initiative blocked. Before he knew it, he had dozed off.

It was Friday, the first day after the return of the victims’ will, and Kyle walked into the school as if he were cock of the walk. He couldn’t understand why everyone was glaring at him as he walked in on Lauren’s arm. Suddenly he was grabbed by a big jock and taken to the office, where Mike sat on the principal’s desk, with three girls at his side, and a room full of parents all waiting for him.

“Is this the guy who distributed the drugged drinks through the school?” someone asked.

“Yep.” Mike said. “All so he could get into Lauren Hill’s pants.” Lauren arrived in a huff, hugging Kyle close and whimpering from having been separated from him, and over and over again using the word “Master”. Lauren’s mom looked like she was going to pop a vein in her forehead. Mike held up a hand to forestall any violence on her part, and drew the last remaining bottle of fake Yoo-Hoo. He placed this in the woman’s hands, and he, Terisha, Amy and Joanna left master and slave alone with the outraged parents, closing the door behind them.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Joanna said. “Not only for what you did, but also for what you didn’t do.”

“I just wish others had the same restraint.” Terisha remarked, glancing out the glass-and-metal door to where Andrew and his cadre of devoted cheerleader love-slaves moved slowly through the halls like a blood clot through an artery.

“Andrew doesn’t respect those girls like I respect you.” Mike said, his tone making the words sound like a lament of human nature. He became the filling in a three-way hug-sandwich then, and couldn’t suppress a smile.

“You’ve certainly got our respect.” Amy said, placing her head on his shoulder. Joanna placed her head on his other one.

“You want to go to the movies after school?” Terisha asked. “I know a dollar-theater in Waco that still has Kate & Leopold, and there’s not going to be many people there.” Her expression became mischievious, her mocha chocolate lips curving upward wickedly. “We can show you our respect in a measure of privacy.”