The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Christina glanced down at the letter she had received, and then back up again at the building number above the door to the warehouse. 68 Paladin Drive. “Yup,” she smiled. “This must be the place.”

She placed both hands on the slightly ajar door and it creaked open, revealing a cavernous room. Despite its size and the dim lighting, she noted the recliner in the center. She glanced down at the letter again and scowled. “I don’t know what I’m doing here or why I agreed, but I’m here, so let’s go through with this…”

She strode briskly over to the recliner and ran her hands over the soft material that covered the chair. When she satisfied herself that she had nothing to fear about this unusual research request. She thought back to the phone call that led to her being here this evening and hoped that her gut instincts had been correct.

She sat down in the recliner and raised her feet. Almost immediately, she felt soothed and relaxed. Between the softness of the chair and the quiet music that piped in behind her head, she fought the urge to fall asleep.

She heaved a deep sigh as she felt the overstuffed chair impart its soporific qualities upon her. As her mind drifted into a near-stupor, her final thought had something to do with amazement at the technologies that surrounded her, and how the manufacturers of this chair had really outdone themselves.

Someone was clapping slowly. Was this in her head or was that person really there? A distant voice echoed in her head. “We’re glad you could make it, Christina Wynd. I hope you find your accommodations … pleasurable.”

Christina whispered, “Pleasurable…”

The woman’s voice continued. “Where are my manners? My name is Stephanie. Stephanie Everton. But you probably could have guessed that on your own if you weren’t so beholden to my favorite chair. It’s a joy to finally meet you.”

“Meet you…”

“Now, Christina, I suppose I need to provide full disclosure. I’ve been doing a study over these past few years of professional, accomplished women, to get into their heads and find out what makes them tick, what made them who they are today. What some of their favorite, most vivid memories are, and what it is about those memories that they love. Your story will join those of other women and will become an entry in a binder I’ve been keeping. Then, once that binder is full, I’ll see about getting it published. This, I hope, will help others live vicariously through your experiences and maybe even inspire people to make memories of their own. Got it?”

“Got it…”

“Good. Now I want you to remember the most sensual, most pleasurable memory from your life. Go back as far as you need, but I want to know all of the details of it.”

Christina breathed deeply and, after a relatively short amount of time, a slight smile crossed her face. Stephanie recognized this look as meaning she was ready to relive this moment. Judging by how quickly she was ready, either it took place relatively recently, or it was something that was always close in the woman’s memory. “So where are you taking me in your past?”

“I … I was a student. On vacation in England. I took a day trip to Scotland. I’d wanted to see the Sara Castle. When I got there, it was late afternoon. The tall stone structure on top of a hill just stood in stark, beautiful contrast against the clear blue, cloudless sky.”

“Was this a trip you took on your own or did you have anyone going with you?”

“I was alone. That is, until I reached the castle itself.”

“I like the sound of that. Tell me more…”

Christina took a deep breath. Stephanie watched as the woman’s chest heaved up and down as she was searching in her mind for the right words to relive the memory.

“Take your time, my dear. Take your time.”

After a short pause, Christina spoke with a subdued tone of voice. Her words spilled effortlessly from her lips:

“After I had graduated, I promised myself that I would backpack across Europe. I started on Downing Street in Limerick, Ireland and found my way east and then south. I knew I wanted to stop at the legendary Scottish keep, the revered and somewhat feared Sara Castle. And so I did. I remember arriving in late afternoon, having just missed the last tour group of the day.”

“So I take it you couldn’t get into the castle?” asked Stephanie.

“I guess you could say luck was on my side.” There was a tone of pride in Christina’s voice, even though her face remained expressionless. “There was still someone standing there by the gate and, well, I pretty much explained that I’d been traveling all day.

“She could see the weariness on my face. I probably sounded like a whiny little kid, but whatever it was that I said, or did, or whatever it was, she took pity on me.”

“She … took pity on you?”

“She said that if I would wait five minutes while she finished with the day’s receipts, she’d give me a personal tour of the castle, even show me some things that the folks on the tour don’t normally get to see.”

“That sounds … intriguing.”

“I know….” Christina paused, smiling broadly as her mind raced with the memories of that day, and mixed with the calm, content and satisfied sensations that were a result of being seated in the chair.

Stephanie watched the business woman becoming more and more visibly aroused. She let out a slight chuckle as she said, “Just remember. You’re safe, calm, secure, and protected here. Nothing can disturb you and you have no secrets here. It just … is.”

“It is….”

“So someone -- a host or a cashier -- gave you a private tour of the castle, is that right?”

“Yes…”

“What was your tour guide’s name?”

“Heather. She said she liked being thought of as a fembot of sorts or maybe a femme fatale. At least, when she wasn’t on her official duties, but for the purposes of our tour, she’d just be known as Heather.”

“Heather. Got it. So tell me about this tour.”

Christina took a deep breath and said, “Well, Heather started by asking me if I could keep a secret. Before I could answer, she leaned in close to me and spoke in a low whisper, as though it were some big conspiracy. She said that the castle is haunted.”

“Haunted?”

“Yes. She said that there are ghosts that wander the halls, hoping to feel the touch of a human hand or … much more, they’d gone so long without feeling anything like that.”

“I’m sorry. What did she mean by ‘much more’?”

“That was my reaction, too. She said that the ghosts really and truly miss the sensation of being intimate with someone else. The pleasure of feeling aroused. Or even an occasional orgasm. Things we take for granted among the living.”

“Yeah, I guess we do take them for granted… So how do the ghosts, um…”

“Relive those sensations?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they temporarily take over the bodies of the living, of course.”

“Oh. Of course. How did that make you feel?”

“Honestly, it was all I could do to suppress my laughter, but I played along. It didn’t scare me, if that’s what you’re getting at. I didn’t believe a word she said, but she obviously wanted me to think that this was something really important so who was I to deny her that?”

“Um…”

“Exactly!”

“Did you ask her if she’d ever been possessed?”

“She said, ‘Oh yes!’ I almost lost it right then and there, she seemed so enthusiastic about it. But I regained my composure pretty quickly and the two of us went along into the castle. She showed me some of the amazing artwork that hung on the walls, elegant and intricately woven tapestries everywhere. Beautiful colors and amazing scenes. We walked all around the ground floor and she told me about the room where a princess, some five hundred years ago, killed herself in order to get out of an arranged marriage. The princess’s name was Joanne, but everyone who worked in the castle now called her ‘Fly-by-night.’”

“‘Fly-by-night’?”

“Yeah, because apparently this ghost floats the halls of the castle at night. And now we were in the room where she became a ghost.”

“Was there anything special about this room when you saw it?”

“Just a small bit of blood in one corner of the room. I never would’ve noticed it if it hadn’t been pointed out to me.”

“And that was the princess’s blood?”

“That’s what they claimed. It made me wonder how she killed herself.”

“How did she kill herself?”

“She took a dagger to her heart.”

“That’ll do it!”

“That was my thought, too.”

“So I was about ready to go out of the room, thinking there wasn’t a whole lot more for me to see, and I started towards the door. But Heather grabbed my wrist and stopped me.”

“Why?”

“She asked me if I felt it.”

“Felt what?”

“The presence of that princess from five hundred years ago.”

“Did you?”

“Honestly, no. But I did feel… It’s kind of strange. How can I explain this to someone who wasn’t there?”

“What?”

“Have you ever felt … when someone else near you is really energetic or excited, that somehow they create an electricity in the air?”

“I’m not sure… Had you felt this energy anywhere before on your personal tour?”

“No. Heather was clearly excited to be talking about the ghost. I didn’t feel anything otherworldly. I just felt her energy. That is, my guide’s energy.”

“I understand. So how did that make you feel?”

“Honestly, it made me a little bit aroused myself.”

“Really? And what did you do about that?”

“Well, I kept it to myself at first.”

“That makes sense. But what do you mean by ‘at first’?”

“Well, two things, really. First, as we walked on to other rooms, most noteworthy the Jukebox and Wiseguy rooms in the castle, Heather started acting … increasingly sensually. And second, the arousal got stronger and stronger. By the time we reached the Dictionary Rainbow Room in the north tower, I couldn’t restrain myself anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we got to the top of that tower, I remember Heather acting like the fembot she fashioned herself to be. It briefly made me wonder if she gave private tours like this all the time, but I never asked her that. Instead, she started talking about how we would be perfectly safe on our own up here, that the regular tours never come up here, and she invited me to look out the window to the grounds below. I remember taking a step forward, but I don’t think I ever made it to the window.”

“Why not?”

“Because when I crossed in front of her, I just felt … overwhelmed. I kissed her full on the lips. She tasted so sweet, so passionate so… sensual, that the moment I did it, I knew I was hooked.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Even at the time, I was never really sure. I just … I just knew I had to.”

“Did she say anything about that?”

“She said that I had been possessed by the Fly-by-night ghost.”

“Did you buy that?”

“Not really. But it was like my body was on auto-pilot. And the closer I got to her, the more I was thankful for what was happening.”

“And what was happening?”

“Well, I started to feel her breasts and she reached for mine. And before I knew it, I had opened up her blouse and she had opened mine.” In her deep sleep, Christina began to unbutton her blouse, reliving the sensual moments she was describing. She slipped her arms out of her sleeves, and the blouse fell to the back of her chair.

Stephanie glanced at her subject and couldn’t help but notice the firmness of her nipples, poking through her bra. She jotted a few notes down in her book and drew a freehand sketch of the scene, a picture that would surely find its way to the published version of this and other tales.

Without prompting or saying another word, Christina took off her bra, the unspoken implication being that she was now fully re-enacting those stolen moments in the tower of the castle all those years ago. Her bra fell gently onto her lap.

Stephanie stared for a moment at Christina’s perfectly rounded breasts, appreciating her willingness to share this memory. She took a deep breath before saying, in a calm yet encouraging tone, “So go on…” She paused then added, “Actually, why don’t you do more than just telling me what happened next? I want you to relive the moment. Be that young girl out of school who came upon this castle. What did Heather do?”

“She asked me if I felt the spirit of Fly-by-night slowly taking over my body, my soul, my very will.”

“Did you?”

“No. Of course not.” Christina stopped talking.

Stephanie decided against saying something as she watched Christina begin to grope and massage her breasts, becoming increasingly breathless. Christina let out a slight yelp and one of her hands found its way down over her stomach and below the hem of her skirt.

Christina gasped in pleasure as she began to rub herself through the fabric of her panties. When she finally spoke, she said, “Have you ever … just known what to do, even if you weren’t sure why? Like you didn’t even need to think about what you were doing, you just did it and it was so right that thinking would only complicate things and maybe make them worse?”

“Here and there… Is that how you felt in the tower of the castle?”

“Of course! And Heather could do no wrong, so it made it all the more amazing.” Her words slowed down to enable her to intensify her own self-pleasure. “She said it was the ghosts. At the time I might’ve believed it but the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that it was an expression of my liberation, a coming into my own, and it was the talk of the ghost that was what I needed, not a ghost itself.” Christina yelped her pleasure as Stephanie moved closer.

“Tell me more about that,” whispered Stephanie.

“It’s just that…” Christina paused to savor the pleasure that was emanating from her hostess’s hands, which by now were taking the place of her own hands over her breasts. “Why believe in the supernatural when there are such … Mmmmmmm… Such beautiful things that are just so natural. Yes, that’s it. Right there. Mmmmm…. Yes… Beauty is beauty all … on its own… We don’t need to believe… In magic just to… Mmmmm… Just to… recognize the beauty we all… Mmmm… Yes!!! Love!!!”

Stephanie took a step back and admired the woman who was reliving such a powerful memory in her head. Christina had a placid, relaxed look on her face thanks to the couch upon which she lay, but at the same time, her face and body had an otherworldly air from the sweat glistening off of her bare skin. She knew that the time had come…

Stephanie allowed her gown to fall to the floor before she climbed into the chair next to Christina. She whispered in her ear, “Can you feel her? Fembot Heather is right next to you, Christina. And she wants you to re-enact the time the two of you spent all those years ago…”

Christina turned to face Stephanie and immediately kissed her full on the lips. As they each began to fondle each other’s breasts, Stephanie bit her lip to suppress a moan. She inched closer to Christina, wrapping her legs around Christina’s waist.

Quickly, they each began to finger the other, taking great care to find exactly the right spots that would send the other over the edge. Christina vocalized her arousal in a high-pitched yelp that echoed off of the walls of the warehouse. Stephanie felt Christina’s muscles contract and felt an orgasm course through her own body at the same time.

The two women made love for hours, rolling together in the overstuffed chair that lulled Christina into the sense of calm and security that permitted her to relive the memory. Finally, they both found themselves spent, exhausted from the waves of pleasure and undeniable connection the two women felt. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, only to be awakened by the sound of a buzzer outside of the warehouse.

Stephanie quickly stood up, got dressed, and gave Christina one final command. She whispered, “Thank you for being such a good subject. But now it’s time for you to get dressed and to go home with the memory of that day in the Scottish castle all those years ago. I will contact you if I need you.”

Christina did as instructed. As she stepped out of the door, another woman, slightly younger, stepped into the warehouse. The new woman strode around the warehouse, unsure of what she was looking for.

When she found the comfy couch, Stephanie, who was watching from a distant office, spoke through the public address system. “I’m glad you could be here, Miss Virginia Plain. Please. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be with you shortly.”