The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What the fuck, indeed, Jon thought, his pulse racing from the sprint up the stairs. The event with Jill still reverberated in his mind. Hiding in the bathroom, he tried to make sense of what had happened. At one point he considered the whole thing was some cruel practical joke played on him by Jill and Agatha; but what he had felt was very real. The look on Jill’s face confirmed two undeniable realities: he had actually done something to cause Jill to have a strong orgasm; and Jill knew it.

He removed his shirt and inspected himself for marks, holes, defects, errant moles or other visual evidence he was a mutant. Finding nothing sinister he splashed his face with cold water in an attempt to wash away his distress.

The shock of the experience still rattled his brain; but his teenage hormones elicited consideration of some of the more promising possibilities of such a talent. He paused to consider them. Finally he laughed to himself and decided to immerse himself in the problem.

He remained home that day. With both of his parents working and his sister at school, he had the house to himself. If he was going to generate his energy again, or lose control, it was a safe environment in which to do it.

Returning to his bedroom he attempted to recreate the spinning feeling in his abdomen. He furrowed his brow and concentrated intensely. He grunted, groaned, strained, squeezed, and twisted his face into the most absurd expressions of effort. He managed only to generate a surprised moment of flatulence that startled the family dog, much to Jon’s adolescent amusement.

He tried fantasizing about Jill, recalling her body flushed and stiff, back arched, and lips parted. He replayed the morning’s experience vividly in his mind, reliving her frighteningly intense and uncontrolled orgasm. He achieved a very strong erection that, while impressive, was nothing supernatural.

After a couple of unsuccessful hours, he decided to approach the problem differently. He pulled out a fresh notebook and started a journal, writing down everything he had experienced that day. He created a list of topics he needed to research. He knew that he must gather information, and prepare himself as much as possible. He shuddered at the thought of losing control again. He hated losing control in general. He grabbed his backpack, climbed on his bicycle and rode to town to gather materials. His brain was free to wander while he pedaled.

Jon was a virgin. In fact, Jon had only gone as far as asking out one girl to a school dance his freshman year. Her uncomfortable refusal had been polite; though the lie she had told (“I have a boyfriend”) had stung him badly when the truth was revealed at the dance itself. He had been thoroughly unprepared for rejection. If his father had spent a little more time with him, Jon might have been better equipped to handle such things. For Jon, the social insecurity he felt persisted. The awkward unsuccessful endeavor left him wary and reluctant to pursue women with any alacrity. He had decided over the summer that his junior year was going to be different. The morning’s episode was clearly unexpected, but he was determined to ensure he was never unprepared again.

He sped down side streets with his windbreaker flapping around him. He enjoyed the early-autumn air against his skin and the intermittent sound of dry leaves crunching under his tires.

From the local library he borrowed books on anatomy, sex education, technique, and related topics; but also found a tome that covered paranormal activity, telepathy, psychics, etc. He was not optimistic about the latter, but he believed in being thorough. The librarian was a middle aged woman who Jon thought was probably hot back when she was in high school. She eyed him as trouble.

“School project.” Jon coughed and stared nervously at the counter.

The librarian continued to look at him sternly while scanning the bar codes of each item he was checking-out. The library’s computer network recorded the list with Jon’s library card number. She politely reminded Jon that the books were due in two weeks, and could be renewed online at his convenience. Examining the stack, Jon thought two weeks was not nearly enough time.

Jon rode past the adult novelty store three times before he finally pulled around back and knocked on the door. He had tutored an underachieving senior named Bob the previous year in math. Bob had struggled with the reality of a sophomore teaching him basic math, but he graduated without any problems and was genuinely appreciative of Jon’s efforts. Bob was his way into the store.

Bob met him at the door, and listened intently as Jon told a cliché adolescent story about an older girl he liked. He was a large man, and had a shaggy red beard held firm by a rubber band that danced as he nodded through Jon’s tale. Bob’s green eyes sparkled with his understanding of the importance of demonstrating sexual prowess to an older woman. He wanted to help Jon, and guided him covertly to several magazines and instructional videos. Jon paid cash and quickly stuffed the items in his bag.

“Jonny boy, come back any time. Let me know how it works out with the little lady.” He smiled like a big brother.

Jon thanked him, noting the knot he felt in his gut when he talked about Jill. His bag was heavy and awkward, making the ride home a slow one. Such is the price of knowledge, Jon thought.

Jon’s experience with the energy would not repeat that day, and he returned to school with significant trepidation the following morning. In the weeks that followed, there was no other incident; neither in reading anyone’s desires nor in creating the spin of energy. Despite his growing disappointment that it may have been a one-time occurrence, he studied all he could on the topic of sex. In the process, of course, he benefited from hours of masturbation. Whatever mystical talent Jon might possess remained a complete mystery to him.

Jon avoided Jill. He hid in his room when she arrived to visit Agatha. Occasionally he would watch from the kitchen window as she drove up in her old car. She spied him once, gave him a half smile and looked down. They shared a disquiet that neither was ready to address.

The boys’ volleyball team started regular practice in early December. As the team worked out, the coaches talked excitedly about Jack Sanders; a six and a half feet tall senior already awarded a full ride to Penn State to play. One of Jack’s spikes had been recorded at a tournament to exceed seventy five miles per hour. It generated good press for an otherwise ordinary rural high school.

The coaches used the initial sessions to test the younger players’ blocking skills while allowing the varsity team to practice their spikes. It was a rite of passage for anyone who wanted to ascend from JV that they first demonstrate good defense. The ringing in Jon’s hands was a reminder that he had some work to do to make the team.

During one rotation off the court, Jon noticed Kim Bell working out with some of her cheerleading squad on the mats in the corner of the gym. Her curly blond hair was pulled up in a tight pony tail, her white t-shirt sleeves rolled up stylishly to show off her toned arms. Kim was slightly less than average height, but short compared to Jon’s six foot plus frame. Her tight short shorts attracted most of Jon’s attention. Her legs were soft and curved, and when she moved her muscles became pronounced showing off the strength she had in them. Jon acknowledged yet again that the girl was hot.

Seeing her less than 50 feet away, Jon could not help but stare. Though he had made no substantive progress in his plot to seduce her, his lust for her had not abated. He recently learned that she had parted ways from her stout running-back boyfriend. Jon decided he might have an opportunity if he could read Kim’s fantasies.

He sat on the floor near his teammates and bent to stretch his hamstrings and quads. No one would notice him working out some pre-season kinks. The coach was grinding them pretty hard. Coaches always do that in the first week of practice.

He looked across the floor and focused on Kim. He pushed his mind to reach out to her and pull her desires to him. He felt a soft click in his mind of some idea or understanding falling into place. Wispy images started to appear in his vision. Faint bodies entwined together that Jon later wrote in his journal reminded him of haunting ghostly porn. While stretching, Jon breathed steady rhythmic breaths and the images began to crystalize.

It seemed to Jon that he was looking at a vision of a bedroom through a wall-sized aquarium. He could make out Kim on her back, her bare smooth legs dangling off the end of the bed. Jon noted her blonde mound was shaved in a very small trim triangle. A short-haired man with a square head was on his knees, face between her legs. Jon could not identify the man. The room was lit only by a pair of candles on the nightstand. Deep red satin sheets lay askew on the bed. Kim’s hands were stretched above her head, wrists together. Jon could not quite see if they were tied together, but they remained firmly in place. Kim’s head was pressed back, eyes closed, back arched, and moaning loudly.

Jon noticed another figure materialize in the scene. The woman appeared on the bed with Kim, kissing Kim’s ample breasts slowly and gently. Her face was hidden by her long dark wavy hair that fell down over Kim’s chest and toned stomach. Her smooth skin was tanned a light copper. Her slender back muscles accented the movements of her mouth on Kim’s body.

Entranced by Kim’s fantasy, Jon watched wisps of additional images appear and crowd his view of the three lovers. More people materialized in the scene. The sheets changed colors, turning black, then stark white. Jon tried to shake the new confusing images away, but they clung in his mind and would not relent. The walls fell away to reveal an open field, and Jon realized that many people from the gymnasium were in his mind’s eye. The view twisted and reeled, Jon felt his stomach churn and threaten to expel as the scene whirled around him. Jon started to panic as he futilely battled to re-focus on the physical world around him.

He saw sex with movie stars. From what Jon could tell, someone’s mom was going down on one of the varsity setters. Loose leather tassel whips cracked against a man’s bare ass. Hot candle wax dripped on the very pale chest of a stunning red head Jon did not recognize, but later noted that he very much wanted to meet. Nipples were being pierced (men’s and women’s) while in the throes of ecstasy. It was chaos.

Jon felt himself hyperventilating though he could not break his mind from the visions around him. Dizziness and nausea enveloped him and he felt himself grow faint.

Distantly he felt soft pliable leather volleyball kiss the side of his face and head. Some minutes later Jon lay on his back on the gymnasium floor holding an ice pack against his swelling eye. He was trying to shake the stench of smelling-salts from his nostrils while he learned what had transpired. His teammates explained how he seemed to fade out in a daydreaming trance while staring at Kim Bell (though, not one of the boys faulted him for that). Jack Sanders, however, did not approve. That distant soft kiss of volleyball was in fact Jack’s rather sporting statement to Jon to keep his eyes off of Jack’s new girlfriend.

Jon, with his eyes closed, ice shifting and melting against his burning aching face, could hear the girls whispering and giggling nearby. Jon laid there and simply prayed the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Jon exhausted his supply of research materials on a Friday evening during Christmas break, or as the school district called it, “winter holiday”. From his sister’s adjoining room Jon could hear occasional laughter over blaring music. Agatha had a teammate over from the girls’ basketball team. They planned to ride together to their weekend training camp early the next morning.

Agatha and Tracy were often mistaken for sisters, their similarity in both appearance and attitude were striking. They shared dirty blonde wavy hair cut shoulder length, hazel eyes, average height, and the same birthday. Agatha was slightly heavier than Tracy, but only in the hips. They liked to swap tops; and sometimes confused opposing teams by doing so mid-game. The main difference to Jon was that where Agatha was a persistent tormentor, Tracy always tried to get on his good side. He once thought Tracy had a crush on him, but for some reason he could not discern there was never any chemistry between them. Tracy, however, was not the girl on Jon’s mind.

Jon was disappointed Jill was not visiting. Though he was still unprepared to speak to her, he had a knot in his gut that burned for her to be close. It had only grown stronger over the weeks since their fateful morning. She had told Agatha she was traveling for the holidays to see her father. Jill would not return until school resumed on Monday. Jon masturbated quietly to himself fantasizing about her.

Early the next morning Jon tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. Unconsciously he was grinding his morning hard-on into the mattress. His dreams were hazy and disjoint, despite their intensity. He felt a warm spinning sensation pulsing from his abdomen and through his body. In his dreamy half-sleep state he smiled contentedly, while a smooth mild flow of energy wafted through the house.

A sharp moan from behind the wall broke through Jon’s slumber. He groggily recognized the energy radiating from his body, though it was different this time—less intense; or not as hot, he later wrote in his journal. It was a warm invisible glow. He could feel it filling each room of the house.

When a second moan joined the first Jon jerked awake and tossed the covers from his bed. “Fuck!”

The constricted sounds next door grew louder. Jon’s erection fluctuated between dropping flaccidly at the sound of his sister, and rising vigorously to the sound of her teammate. His struggle to tell them apart through the barrier separating their rooms only heightened his disconcertedness.

He twisted himself onto his back, his face contorted in a struggle to contain the energy washing through his home. He thought of his parents downstairs at the other end of the house, rising for their early breakfast and coffee. Jon grimaced. “Ugh, I really hope this is not incest.”

His heart pounded loudly in his ears while he fought his panic. He focused on his breathing, first trying to regain control of his body. He felt the energy make a tangible connection to him. The energy obeyed, pulling slowly back into a spiraling center in his abdomen once again.

Jon was immensely pleased with himself. His confidence soared with the natural control he had obtained. He tried to play with his energy, splaying it through his room. He felt it dance outward slightly and hold around the edges of his twin bed. He sensed the edges of it, amorphous but perceptible to him. He pushed harder and lost it for a moment, an intense hot wave passed through the wall into the room beyond. The muffled voices from next door were loud enough to be heard more clearly. “Oh God!” “You too, huh?” “I can’t stop fingering my clit!” “I don’t mind sweety...mmmm, I’m cumming!” He didn’t know if he should get off, or pin his pillow to his ears to drown the noise.

Jon reeled-in his energy again, sensing it dissipate into nothingness. Jon felt a mix of relief and disappointment with such a small taste of control.

Jon considered how it had ignited in his sleep. Fuck, it could set off on the family at any time, he thought quickly. He could not move out, not at seventeen, and there was no guarantee he could control it. Ugh.

He pulled his pencil across the notepad and wrote, “Ear plugs.”

He rose from his bed, pulled on his sweats and crept quietly from his room. He feared his sister or Tracy would catch him there. They must have known they were loud. He had no idea what he would say to either of them. He paused a moment listening outside her door and heard the rustling of clothes and covers mixed with hurried whispers and girlish laughter. He stepped quickly down the stairs to the kitchen and found his parents were already up.

His father grinned like the cat that ate the canary, and his mother was positively glowing as her fingers struggled without success to fix her disheveled hair. Jon felt his stomach churn in awkwardness. He said a polite good morning that was returned all too strongly by his parents. Jon rolled his eyes while ducking silently into the refrigerator for the orange juice, lingering until his reddened face returned to normal. He heard his sister and her teammate dance into the room, happy and composed.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Agatha beamed.

Jon coughed uncomfortably from inside the fridge.

“Good morning ladies,” Jon’s dad said cheerfully. “You are unusually chipper for this early hour!”

Agatha grinned. “I guess we just woke up on the right side of the bed. Hey Dork! You want to share the OJ?”

Jon pulled his head from the fridge and briefly studied his family. He was appalled in his young mind by the post-sex bliss that seemed to ooze from everyone’s pores around him. He was not unhappy; it was simply too weird for him. He noted that no one else seemed to think anything was odd. Self-absorption is a beautiful thing, Jon thought.

After breakfast, Jon took a look back as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. The family dog was whining, using his front two legs to pull his little doggie dick across the carpet.

“No shit,” Jon muttered.

School resumed on Monday. From across the schoolyard Jon spied Agatha and Jill talking quietly together. Jill was acting surprised and aghast at whatever Agatha was telling her. Agatha was slightly embarrassed, covering her mouth with one hand while giggling. Jill glanced up at Jon and tilted her head slightly to one side. She looked at him carefully, a wry smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Jon bent his head and moved quickly inside to his next class.