The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Darien was simply in the mood for a change. He was tired of big city women, and a Sunday drive out to a nearby university town seemed like the perfect cure for boredom. Thus, he found himself reclined against a stone wall in the university student centre on a sunny autumn afternoon, gazing appraisingly at the goods on display.

He could have had any woman he wanted, his fortuitously acquired wealth and his reasonable appearance notwithstanding. Darien, however, had never been interested in pliant submissiveness, nor in enthusiastic complicity. When it came to a good fuck, it was the fear in her eyes that made the difference.

Rape fantasies had been a part of him for so long that he almost couldn’t remember a time before them. Conveniently, neither could he remember a time before he was able to get away with acting them out. He watched the college girls walk by, swaying their hips, glancing flirtatiously in his direction. If so many of them were going to be such insufferable cock-teases anyway, he figured that no one could fault him for occasionally taking one up on her thinly-veiled offer and maybe even teaching her a lesson about her place in the world.

He scanned the indoor courtyard. A girl, about 20 or 21, by Darien’s estimation, was just coming in through the east entrance. He got a good look at her as she walked across the wide foyer to a desk in the study area. She had a slim, toned build, with rounded hips and long, curvy legs. Nice tits, though a bit small. She looked athletic enough to be capable of some truly gymnastic maneuvers if he tired of having her act the victim. Overall, she seemed like she would make a good playmate.

Relaxing back into the wall, Darien sent out his mind with practiced ease, slowly pushing into the girl’s thoughts.

Suddenly, he felt a stabbing pain in his forehead. //Ow. Fuck.// He had lost the connection. Having allowed his headache a moment to subside, he tried again, undaunted, and, this time, succeeded in penetrating her. He decided that it would probably be best to use a straightforward command, for the time being. The key was to get her somewhere alone—then the fun could begin.

Quitting time, he pushed, sending the thought deep into her delicate mind. Time to pack up and go home.

He felt her mind pulse, faintly. Then, glancing at her watch, she gathered her books and stood. He loved how they always made their own little excuses like that. Checking the time, like it was her own idea to leave. A little flutter of free will. It somehow made the conquest all the sweeter.

She headed for the exit, and he nonchalantly set off after her, keeping well back so that his pursuit would go unnoticed by any friends she might encounter along the way. The cool autumn air embraced him as he stepped outdoors. Blue was beginning to seep into the brown tint at the edges of the day, and he exhaled in a barely visible mist.

This was Darien’s favourite kind of weather. He loved that not-quite-winter feeling of late October. He trailed his prey casually, taking the time to inhale the crisp afternoon.

Gradually, they made their way beyond the limits of the campus, towards a red-brick apartment complex. The girl stepped into the foyer of the residence, and he watched from beyond the glass outer doors as she swiftly unlocked the inner entrance and stepped into the front hall.

Not wanting to spoil the pleasure of the chase by having her hold the door for him, he quickly sent out a mental order: Drop your notebook. Now. Don’t notice its loss.

His command was perfectly timed, as always. The notebook she had been carrying in her left hand landed squarely on the doorsill, effectively wedging the entrance open. Heedless, she continued on to the elevators at the rear of the inner foyer. Darien advanced quietly into the front porch just in time to watch the lift doors close on her. He crossed to the inner entryway in three long strides and stepped through the main entrance, stooping to retrieve the fallen notebook as he passed.

Once inside, he watched each floor number above the elevator doors light up in turn, until the lift settled at last on the fifth level. Still a victim to the vague claustrophobia of his childhood, he made for a nearby stairway and ascended at a leisurely pace. He could sense her above him.

Fumble your keys, he thought out to her.

On reaching the fifth floor, he eased the door open and peered down the hall. She was halfway down the hall from where he stood, facing away from him, bent at the waist to recover her keys. He took the opportunity to admire the view of her heart-shaped ass.

Too quickly she stood, making for her apartment door.

Leave it open behind you.

She paused for just a moment, before turning the key in the lock and slipping into her flat. She had left the door ajar for him.

Casually, he swung the stairwell door open and strode down the hall. On reaching her apartment, he stepped confidently inside, noting the number on the door in case he wanted to pay her another visit in the future.

She stood with her back to him and straightened abruptly, startled, when she heard the click of the door behind her. Before she could turn around or cry out, he assailed her with his usual barrage of commands.

You cannot scream. Your emotions paralyze you. You feel too weak to hurt me. You will answer all my questions truthfully.

She turned to face him slowly, trembling. The look of surprise and alarm in her eyes brought his cock to life.

“Are we alone here?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered instantly, in a choked voice.

“Good.” He smiled.

He had been refining his preliminary commands for years in search of a set that would preserve his target’s genuine reactions while preventing her from injuring him or calling for help. Contrived fear was never as satisfying as the real thing. It was a perpetual work in progress, but he approved of its current results.

The girl stood wide-eyed before him, trembling visibly. She looked small, ripe in her vulnerability. His cock throbbed.

He knew, though, that the paralysis injunction would wear off quickly under the force of her turbulent emotions, which was just as well, really. Half the fun was in the struggle, even if it did have a foregone conclusion.

Smoothly stepping around her, he caught her wrists in one hand, holding them behind her back, and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Then, choosing a direction arbitrarily, he set off down the hall with her. She writhed against his grip, but the power of his words in her mind reduced the power of her body to that of a child. He chuckled softly at her efforts, as he dragged her to what was, apparently, the living room.

He threw her onto the couch, where she froze for a moment, stunned, before he was on top of her, pressing her shoulders down into the cushions with one hand, while her fists beat weakly against his chest. She bucked beneath him, trying to tear away from his grasp. With his free hand, he groped her tits. They were small and firm, like fruit ready to be plucked.

Unable to contain his raging hard-on any longer, he reached down to unzip his fly, and, suddenly, something crashed into him, reducing the world around him to disjointed light and sound. A flash of pain overtook him, jerking throughout his body. He tried desperately to focus on something, anything, but all he could see was colour and shape. Then all was blackness.