The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jerry hated being late, but that was just too bad. His alarm clock had accidentally been set to go off at 7 PM instead of 7 AM, so he had woken up late, realized what was wrong late, gotten dressed Late, ran down to the bus stop LATE, had to take the 15-A, which stopped two blocks from the college LATE, and now was running HOPELESSLY LATE toward his classroom, hoping the professor wouldn’t be too hard on him. Then he remembered he had missed his first class, but maybe if he hurried he could make his second. On the way there, he saw this girl leaning up against the wall. She was a knockout! Her hips were nice and shapely, she had long, heavenly legs, and her breasts were perfectly within Jerry’s taste range—not so small that she looked like a boy, not so big that she looked like a slut. Her hair was long and dark and straight. He came up to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Her eyes had been unfocussed, but they focussed when he spoke. She looked at him, blinked her eyes a few times, then looked again.

“Fine.” she said. “Just fine.”

“Okay, great, I was just wondering.” Jerry said. “I have to get to class. See you.” He started to walk off. The girl followed him, and he thought it curious at first, but then he realized how late he was, and he started running. The girl matched his course and speed like a Romulan Warbird following a Federation starship. He didn’t think a girl could do much harm, so he let her follow. He entered the auditorium-style classroom two minutes late, followed by the girl. She sat down in the back of the room next to him. He didn’t notice the buxom blonde next to him until later. “What’s wrong?” he asked the girl who had followed him.

“I...don’t know.” she replied. “Hard to think.”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Talia.” she replied, a little more flatly this time. He heard heavy breathing in the seat next to him, and for the first time, noticed the blonde.

“Oh, I didn’t know this seat was taken...” Jerry stammered. The blonde looked at him as though seeing him for the first time.

“It...wasn’t.” she said.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Phoebe.” the blonde replied. She seemed to be fighting off sleep, and Jerry couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t exactly one of Dr. Francis’s better lectures. He droned on and on about nucleotide bonds and RNA, and by the time the class was over, most of the girls in the class looked stoned...those who weren’t fighting sleep like Phoebe and Talia. Jerry got up to move on to his next class, and the two girls followed him like puppies.

“Why are you following me?” he asked.

“I...” Phoebe began. “I am...com...com..pelled....” Talia said the same thing, only a couple of syllables later, and they both looked like they were fighting hard and losing to whatever was making them say those things. Jerry ran, in case it decided to go for him too, and the two girls followed. He ran across the cheerleading squad, all of them leaning blank-faced against their lockers.

“What’s going on here?” Jerry demanded, glaring at the ceiling as if the answers were written there.

“I...am...compelled...to...obey.” said each of the cheerleaders, but they didn’t start simultaneously. Then they all joined in, the cheerleaders and Phoebe and Talia all began muttering the same phrase in low, flat, monotone voices. Their eyes were glazed over and their faces were expressionless.

“Who are you compelled to obey?” he asked.

“You.” they all replied.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Im...print.” they replied. It took a few seconds for Jerry to figure out what this meant. Someone had done something to these girls, and they started succumbing to the effects, and they had imprinted onto him. Okay, the part about imprinting on someone who’d spoken to them made sense. But why would someone do this? He couldn’t think too much further down that line. He was distracted by all the sexy women staring at him, waiting for his command. Compelled to obey him. He spoke directly to each individual in the five-member cheerleading squad, asking each of them their names.

“Nina.” said a dirty-blonde girl with blue eyes, a nice ass, medium tits and gorgeous legs.

“Barbara.” said a redhead with hazel eyes flecked with amber, and a body that managed to be lean and muscular yet simultaneously soft and feminine.

“Reiko.” mumbled a petite Japanese girl who looked like Heaven in a small package.

“Margarita.” muttered a lithe young Hispanic.

“Cherry.” replied a ruby-lipped brunette. He was getting hard, and thoughts of controlling these women kept sneaking into his head, making him harder. Finally, he decided “to hell with it” and had the girls strip. At his command, they gently took off his clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on a bench. Reiko sat on his face and got a licking, he rolled the clits of Talia and Phoebe between the thumb and index fingers on each of his hands, Cherry and Margarita put their breasts together and rubbed them up and down his cock while Barbara fingered Cherry with one hand and herself with the other, and Nina gave Margarita the same treatment. The whole group moaned and yelled, so at least they could feel, even if they had no will of their own. When they all came, which somehow managed to happen simultaneously throughout the whole group, Jerry had the girls lick up the mess. With his hard-on satisfied, he and his girls—he was actually starting to think of them as his now—dressed, and he continued his tour of the campus, confident that his girls would follow. He left the Science building and entered the Fine Arts building. There, he found a fifty-plus-person orgy. Guys were getting laid by harems ranging from one to twelve. Jerry briefly thought back to the research he’d done in Statistical Analysis when he had divided the school up several different ways. Females on campus outnumbered males by almost twelve to one, so a harem like Jerry’s would be just a little under average size. Well, far be it for Jerry to let statistics push him around the rest of his life. He and his harem were out of there quick.

Jerry made his way across the campus, going around the ones with major orgies going on in the halls, as he headed for Administration. Here and there a teacher was being raped by a gang of students, and here and there a girl leaned mindlessly against the wall, undiscovered by horny students. Jerry snagged three of these as he went, adding them to his harem. He quickly found himself getting tired, however, so he took a drink from the drinking fountain and had his girls do the same. He made quick progress toward Administration. Soon, he and his girls were standing in front of the business office. A guy in a white coat was walking leisurely through the office, pinching titties or lifting skirts on the all-female office staff. He found a thirty-two year old blonde and whispered in her ear. She stood and raised her skirt, and he dropped her panties and fucked her right there on the spot! Jerry was shocked and appalled. He looked around at the helpless faces of his harem, some of them still, as far as he knew, virgins, and he was filled with righteous indignation at this guy who was casually raping a receptionist like she was breeding stock. In the back of his mind a little annoying voice chimed in that he had done the same thing, but Jerry justified it with defenses like “their helplessness seduced me” and “I picked up the other three girls because if I didn’t, someone else would and he’d fuck what was left of their brains out.” It didn’t help much, but he had a case. Besides, if his hunch was right...

“You caused this!!” Jerry mouthed when the guy turned his head in the direction of the window.

“Bingo.” the other guy mouthed back. He was built strangely. He looked like he was supposed to be a skinny man, but he had a paunch the size of a beer keg. As his father would say, he looked like an olive in a straw. His head was balding, but he had a combover to cover his bald spot. He wore thick glasses, his ears were large and stuck out, and he had a cleft in his chin that looked like he’d been shot with a BB gun, but his weirdest feature had to be his nose. The thing was hooked downward, and looked like he’d once had a normal nose, but someone had slapped a long turd on his face. The man walked leisurely up to the desk. “Nice harem.” he whispered.

“How did you do this?” he asked. “You find a grimorem or something?”

“Humph!” the man said. “I wish. It took me years of research to figure out how to do this.” He hopped over the bar rather than go through the door, and his new slave followed him. He sauntered over to where a fortyish woman sat mindlessly. “You see, what’s happened to these ladies is that they’ve contracted a virus.”

“A virus?” Jerry asked, quietly, so as not to accidentally snag some old crone. That thought sent an involuntary shudder down his spine.

“Yep, a virus. Plain and simple.” the man said. “You see, it’s an airborne virus. It travels through the air, minding its own virulent business, until it enters a host body, then it travels its merry way through the body to the brain, ‘Wheeeeeeeee!’” he said, doing a weird little dance like one of the aliens from the old Space Invaders video game. “Once there, it attaches itself to various parts, some of them hitch onto the medula oblongata, some of them hitch on the frontal lobe, some of them hitch onto the temporal lobe, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. When they’ve all found a nice, comfy place to stay, they insert their little bits of DNA into the brain cells and take over control of it. But unlike a regular virus, this kind doesn’t make the cells make more viruses. It alters brainwave patterns, thought processes, and all that stuff that you wouldn’t understand unless you were a neurology major. The end result is, while the virus is still running rampant, the subject is, to put it simply, a robot. They imprint on people who speak to them, and they will do whatever that person tells them to, hence the orgies you no doubt have noticed.”

“I noticed.” Jerry replied.

“Of course, you’d have to be stupid not to have.” the man said. “I predicted them. You see, for some reason, testosterone kills the virus before it has a chance to attack the brain, so the virus doesn’t affect males. Only women. That’s why this school’s become Fuckslave Central.” He caught a warning look from Jerry. “Oh, don’t worry, the virus runs its course in about a month, six weeks tops, then they’ll be able to hold a conversation with you again. Of course, they never really recover fully. They’ll always be obedient little sluts for you, but they’ll be able to do more, like be away from you for an extended period, because right now they can’t even feed themselves without your command. Their capabilities are limited now. They can only obey on-the-spot commands, like ‘strip,’ ‘sit,’ or ‘suck my dick.’ That kind of thing. But afterwards, you won’t feel quite so harried.” He turned to the mindless woman. “Not being quite so prim and bitchy now, are you, my little bitch?”

“No, Master.” the woman replied flatly.

“Good fuckhole. Now raise your shirt.” the man said, and the woman obeyed. Jerry turned away, feeling sick. He heard the man making terse comments about the woman’s breasts. As he turned, he caught sight of one of his friends, Gabrielle, sitting mindlessly in a corner. They’d had a serious relationship once. He’d gotten to home base twice, but after that, her Gothic tastes started getting to him, and he had cut it off. She was into Lithium, Prozac, bondage, leather, whips, threesomes, et cetera. But she carried a gun. That was what he wanted now.

“What happens if no one snags a girl before the virus runs its course?” Jerry asked, casually. His girls followed him as she slowly, nonchalantly moved over to where Gabby was.

“They snap. They go insane. Ruddy bitches get suicidal, jump out of windows.” the man said, then resumed his toying with the woman.

“Gabby.” Jerry whispered. “Stand up.”

“Yes, Master.” Gabby replied, doing as he had commanded her to. As she rose, Jerry remembered what had attracted him to her in the first place. She had the most luscious little frame he had seen since his swimming teacher back when he was ten. She’d be about thirty now.

“Hand me the gun, Gabby.” Jerry commanded, quietly. Gabby obeyed. Jerry kept the gun hidden.

“If the virus doesn’t reproduce, does that mean you have to keep making more every time?”

“I’m afraid so.” the man replied.

“Too bad. What’s your name?”

“Dr. Morgan Simons.” the man replied. “Why?”

“So I can carve it on your tombstone.” Jerry replied, leveling the gun at Dr. Simons, who turned just in time to take a bullet right between the eyes. “Fatality.” he muttered, shaking his head at the evidence of his own video game addiction, one of many throwbacks to his high school days. He then proceeded to roam the school, picking up any unsnagged beauties, and by the end of the day amassing a harem of thirteen. He wondered how he was going to transport them all with his pickup in the shop. That would have to wait for later. Right now, he had to walk home, so he guessed it was only fair that they walk too. For almost a half a second, he considered having his new slaves carry him, but that would be cruel, and they would probably remember what he’d done when they got some free will back. Since half of his classes had been taught by female professors, he wondered whether those classes simply wouldn’t meet until permanent replacements were found, or whether they would be taught by substitutes. Tired as Jerry was, he was hoping for the former. He barely had the energy to fuck all his slaves after he got home. He did, however, manage to get them all to become a human blanket for him before he went to sleep.