The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lesson Plan

by Iron Nick

Misty Granger and Carrie Randall had been best friends since the fifth grade. They were now seniors at East Forrest High. Misty stood 5′6″ with long, straight, light brown hair, brown eyes, an oval face, and full lips. She weighed around 125 lbs with C-cup breasts and wide hips. Carrie was 5′8″ with long, straight, hair dyed blonde with brown roots. She had high cheekbones, green eyes, a long straight nose, and a slight under bite. She was slender with B-cup breasts, slender hips, and long legs. Both girls were often in trouble at school: skipping classes, smoking on campus, and being disrespectful to teachers and administrators. One Sunday afternoon they were at Misty’s grandmother’s house. Her grandmother had just been placed in a nursing home, and Misty and Carrie were straightening up, so a realtor could show the house. The two were taking their time as Misty’s parents had forced her to do this. As Misty relaxed on the couch, cursing at the lack of cable TV, Carrie came out of the bathroom down the hall. “Hey, Mist, what’s in the attic?”

“Attic? I don’t know. Why?” replied Misty.

“I just noticed the attic door in the hall ceiling. Wanna take a look? Maybe something valuable up there.”

“Sure, why not. There’s like nothin’ on this damn TV anyway.”

The two lowered the attic stairs. It was dark up there, and Misty went to find a flashlight. She returned with one, and the two went up. The attic had not been disturbed in quite some time; a thick layer of dust coated everything. A few beams of light filtered through an exhaust fan on one wall. There were a few suitcases and a couple of trunks. The girls examined the closest trunk. It was full of old clothes that reeked of mothballs. They then looked through the suitcases. Two were empty, and one was full of photographs. They pulled the last trunk close, causing a cloud of dust to rise up. They waved away the dust as they coughed, and Misty wiped away some of the dust to read an inscription on it: Property of Madam Vera Lafarge.

“Who’s Vera Lafarge?” asked Carrie.

“My great-grandmother I think,” said Misty. “We weren’t allowed to talk about her, especially around grandma. I never knew why.”

Misty opened the trunk. It was full of small, hand crafted, wooden figurines, candles, small metal bowls, folded black cloth, a few opaque bottles, and a few bundles of twigs and dried grasses. “Whoa,” said Misty, “This is weird.” She picked up one of the figurines. It was of a man with his mouth open in an anguished expression and his hands over his ears. Carrie picked up another one. It was a smooth doll like figure with a no face. Its arms hung limply at its side. The two continued examining the contents of the trunk. Carrie picked up a black cloth, and when she did, Misty noticed an old, leather bound book at the very bottom of the trunk. She picked up the book and looked at the cover.

“Lafarge: Spells, Charms, and Elixirs” Misty read aloud. She undid a latch that kept the book closed and opened it. “Damn! This is a book of magic spells, Care,” she whispered.

“You don’t really believe in all that, do you?” asked Carrie.

“I don’t know, but this is still kinda cool.” She flipped through the book then went back to the introduction. She read quietly for a minute as Carrie examined the other figurines. “Says here,” said Misty, “that magic is all around us. It just takes the right components, ancient words, and belief to control it.”

“So like can we turn lead into gold?” said a skeptical Carrie.

Misty turned the pages and read the page headings, “Hey, here’s one called ‘Control and Manipulation of Another’s Mind.’ This could be fun.” She read on silently for a moment then read aloud again, “Says here we can turn someone into like our personal slave. They’ll have to do anything we tell them to.”

“Now that would be fun!” said Carrie. She moved over to Misty and read over her shoulder.

“Says here,” Misty continued, “we need seven strands of hair from our intended target, an image of the target, I guess a picture or something, a bowl of honey, a glass stirring wand, whatever that is, and some sage. We heat the honey with a pinch of sage over a black candle. We then stir in the hair, affix the image to this doll,” she pointed to an image of a doll on the page, then we dab the honey on the ears of the doll while we recite this.” She carefully read a sentence in an obscure language. “What do you think? Wanna give it a try?”

Carrie chuckled, “Why not? What do we have to lose? Who’s our victim?” she cackled and rubbed her hands together imitating a cartoon witch.

Misty laughed and thought for a moment, “How ‘bout that bitch Hawkins?”

“Yeah, damn right. Not only did she kick us both off the freshmen cheerleading squad, but she’s turned us in for smoking twice...”

“Not to mention the fact that I’m failing her fucking math class, and if I do, I won’t graduate.” Interrupted Misty, “Yeah, she’d be perfect.”

“How do we get her hair,” asked Carrie.

“Easy, we lift her brush from her purse.”

“Well, then, Monday at school, we filch the brush. We can cut her picture out of last year’s yearbook, then after school we try this out. Oh man, if only it really works!” The girls got a metal cup and stand from the trunk, a black candle, and they found a glass rod wrapped in black felt. They took the items along with the book, closed up the trunk, and went back downstairs. They took a bottle of sage from the kitchen.

The next day, Misty sat in algebra class waiting for the bell to ring. This class was third period, right before lunch. Carrie was across the hall in earth science, and she was to distract Ms. Hawkins as she left the room for lunch then Misty would lift her brush from her purse. Misty’s expectations made the class drone on. Ms. Hawkins called on her to answer a problem, but Misty did not know the answer. Ms. Hawkins embarrassed Misty by telling her she would have plenty of time to work on it in summer school.

The bell finally rang, and the class filed out of the room. Ms. Hawkins got her purse and waited for the students to leave before she exited. Misty lingered behind. “Is there something I can do for you?” Ms. Hawkins asked her.

Misty saw Carrie standing just outside the door, “Yeah, what do I have to do to pass this class?”

Ms. Hawkins sighed as she headed for the door, “Well, you can pay attention, stop cutting class, and do your work. If you don’t start buckling down, you’re going to fail and fail miserably.”

Misty followed her to the door. Carrie stuck her head in the doorway, “Um, Ms. Hawkins,” “Yes, Carrie.”

“I’m taking the SAT, and I was you know wondering if you had any help or stuff you could give me to help me study for the math part.”

Ms. Hawkins turned towards Carrie, “Carrie, you’re taking the SAT? I never figured you’d want to go to college.” As she was facing Carrie, Misty deftly lifted Ms. Hawkins’ brush out of her open purse. She was a skilled thief.

“Well, if you think so little of me!” snorted Carrie, who had seen Misty lift the brush and stick it in her own purse. Carrie stormed off a few feet.

Ms. Hawkins watched Carrie leave then turned to Misty, “Honestly, if you two ever amount to anything....” She shook her head, waited for Misty to leave the room and closed the door.

Misty watched Ms. Hawkins walk off down the hall, “Just you wait, bitch. If this thing works, I’ll ooooooohhhhh.” She balled one fist and shook it at the teacher.

After school the girls went back to Misty’s house. In her bedroom they took out the items taken from her Grandmother’s house and a bottle of honey they took from the kitchen. The followed the instructions in the book to the letter, and they both said the magic words as they swabbed the mixture on the doll’s ears. The doll had a small picture of Mrs. Hawkins face taped to it. The mixture hissed and two small puffs of steam rose from the doll’s ears. A few miles away, Ms. Hawkins sat in her classroom grading papers. She felt a strange tingling in her ears and a brief but intense headache. The feelings only lasted a moment then went away. She rubbed her ears and went back to her grading.

Misty and Carrie looked at one another and smiled. “Well,” said Misty, “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow if this worked, or we’re just playing with dolls.” Carrie thought for a moment, “What are going to have her do? I mean if this does work and all.”

“We’ll have to do a test I guess,” answered Misty, “I’ll tell her to give me fifty cents or something. That bitch wouldn’t give me a dime to make a call if my life depended on it, so if she gives it to me, then we’ll build up from there.” The two made plans as they cleaned up after their experiment.

Tuesday’s algebra class went by painfully slowly for Misty, but it finally ended. The bell rang, and the students filed out. Misty stayed behind again and waited for Carrie to come from across the hall. Ms. Hawkins saw the two waiting by the door and looked at them with suspicion, “Well, ladies, what can I do for you today?” she said as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Give me fifty cents,” said Misty.

Ms. Hawkins sighed as she walked towards them but pulled her wallet out of her purse and pulled two quarters out of the change pocket. She gave them to Misty. She was surprised she did that; she did not lend money to students.

Misty and Carrie looked excitedly at one another. They both had eager smiles as they looked back to Ms. Hawkins.

Ms. Hawkins looked at the two now gleeful girls, “It’s just fifty cents, and don’t think to make a habit out of asking me for....”

“Be quiet,” ordered Misty. Ms. Hawkins stopped abruptly. “How dare she speak to me like that,” she thought. She wanted to tell Misty off, but she could not speak. She grew a little frightened. She tried again to speak, but she still could not.

“Carrie, close the door please,” said Misty. She waited for Carrie to close the door then walked up to Ms. Hawkins. “Stand still and keep your hands where they are unless I tell you otherwise.” Ms. Hawkins tried to walk past Misty to the door, but she could not move her legs. She tried to move her arms, but they would not budge either. Her eyes grew wide with fear.

“I notice you are a bit bewildered by what’s going on,” said Misty, “Well, let’s just say things are going to be a bit different around here. Now when I tell you it’s ok, you can speak, but only in a whisper. Ok, you can speak. Do not try to leave unless we tell you to.”

“What’s going on,” Ms. Hawkins said in a panicky whisper.

“Oh,” said Misty, “You now have to do anything we say. For example, put your purse on your desk then come back to this spot.” Misty waited while Ms. Hawkins did as she was ordered. She studies Ms. Hawkins for a moment. The teacher was forty-three years old. She was about 5′6″ with dark brown, shoulder length hair and brown eyes. She still had a fairly nice body for a woman her age with C cup breasts. She had started to spread out a bit at the buttocks and hips, but not too much. Today she was wearing black slacks and a white blouse. Misty then looked around the room. He gaze fell on the chalkboard. “Those erasers are rather dusty, aren’t they, Care?”

Carrie walked up to the Misty and the frightened teacher, “Yeah, they need to be dusted. She put her face in front of Ms. Hawkins’, “Get the erasers and beat them against your head.”

Ms. Hawkins tried to fight the command for all she was worth, but she was helpless. She mechanically walked to the chalkboard, picked up the erasers, and started to beat them against her head. A cloud of yellow dust rose up around her, getting in her eyes and nose. She continued to do this until she was told to stop and walk back to the two girls. Her brown hair was now dusted with yellow chalk dust. The laughter of the two girls ripped through her. She wanted to scream, but she could not, “How are you doing this?” she whispered.

“We have our ways,” said Misty, “now put the erasers back, get the pencil sharpener and dump it out over your head.”

Ms. Hawkins was screaming inside her head trying to fight these humiliating commands, but nothing helped. She put the erasers back on the chalk tray then headed to the pencil sharpener mounted on the wall by the door. She unscrewed it then shook the pencil shavings out over her head. The sharpener was half full and her head was now covered in shavings. When the pencil sharpener was empty, she stood there. She could not leave even though she wanted to run.

“Put it back, and come back over here, bitch!” said Misty. She waited for the teacher to come back. She saw Ms. Hawkins eyes turning red. “No crying, bitch!” The tears stopped.

“Now what shall we do with her, Care?”

“I don’t know, Mist, what do you have in mind?”

“OK, bitch, now listen up,” Misty leaned close to Ms. Hawkins, “You will tell no one we can control you. You will go about your normal activities unless we tell you otherwise. Now remove your shirt and bra.”

“STOP!” Ms. Hawkins screamed inside her head as her hands reached up and started unbuttoning her blouse. She turned red with a mixture of anger and humiliation. She was soon holding her bra in one hand and her blouse in the other.

“Now put the blouse back on, but not the bra” said Misty, “and leave the top four buttons undone.” She waited for Ms. Hawkins to obey. “Now pull your pants and panties to your knees.” Ms. Hawkins did as she was ordered. When the teacher stood there with her upper blouse open and her pants and panties down, the two girls laughed again. Once again the laughter grated on the older lady. “Now, when I say ‘drop,’ you will drop to your knees and finger fuck yourself. You will also suck your thumb. You will keep doing this until the bell rings to end lunch. And so it won’t be a total loss for ya, try to make yourself orgasm. Drop!”

Ms. Hawkins knelt down and reached her right hand down to her crotch. She inserted her forefinger up her cunt and started to stroke away. She dropped her bra and stuck her left thumb in her mouth.

“Oh, we COULD take photos, but not right now!” said Carrie. Ms. Hawkins’ eyes grew wide again at the thought of her picture being taken.

“OK, bitch, when the bell rings, you can stop, but you won’t put your bra back on or leave the classroom until your off period, which I think is fifth hour. After school, you will wait in this classroom for us and not lock the door.” She looked at her teacher. Ms. Hawkins looked utterly ridiculous. He hair was covered in yellow chalk dust and pencil shavings, she was sucking her thumb like a two year old, her eyes bulged with fear, and she was really going after her pussy trying to get herself off. Misty laughed, and she and Carrie left, closing the door behind them.

Ms. Hawkins looked around her room. She was really glad she was on the second floor, and no one could see in the windows. She tried to stop what she was doing, but again she was helpless. Her mind could not focus. One the one hand, she was desperately trying to figure out what was happening to her and stop it, but on the other hand, she was trying to bring herself to orgasm. She felt herself grow wet, and her juices started to leak out. By the end of lunch period, she was almost delirious. Anger, sadness, frustration, and arousal all fought for her attention. She was sweating and her juices had run down her thighs. She had brought herself to orgasm twice. Finally the bell rang to end lunch. She pulled her finger and thumb out and leaned forward. She was exhausted, but she knew kids would be coming in for fourth period soon. She staggered over to her desk and wiped herself off with a few tissues. She pulled up her pants and panties. Her pants were well wrinkled from having been bunched up and knelt on for so long. She buttoned her blouse but left the top four buttons undone. She pulled the top close, so she would not expose too much cleavage. She went for her purse but remembered her brush was missing. She ran her hands through her hair several times and tried to shake out as much of the dust and pencil shavings as possible. She looked in her compact mirror. Her hair still had some noticeable yellow. She fixed her sweat-smeared make-up, turning her back to the door as the students came in for the next class.

Fourth period was a nightmare for Ms. Hawkins. She knew she looked a mess and every time she turned her back on the class to write on the board or overhead, she was paranoid about what they were thinking or whispering to one another. She also could not stop thinking about Misty and Carrie and what plans they may have for her. She kept losing her train of thought and finally assigned some bookwork for the class for the last twenty minutes.

Fifth period was her planning period. She spent the first fifteen or so minutes pacing back and forth in her classroom trying to figure a way out of Misty and Carrie’s hold. She slipped into the faculty ladies room. She was lucky that no other teachers or, god forbid, administrators saw her with he blouse half unbuttoned. She tried her best to fix herself up. Her heart raced as she thought of meeting Misty and Carrie after school. They could make her do anything. She tried not to think of the possibilities. She relieved herself and went back to her class. She tried to calm herself down before sixth period. Sixth period was a bit more bearable since she was not as flustered at the beginning of class, but as the last class of the day wound down, she started to grow nervous about her upcoming meeting with the two girls.

School ended, and Ms. Hawkins sat nervously at her desk. A few minutes after the bell rang, Misty and Carrie walked in. Both were grinning. Carrie closed the door behind them. “Hello, bitch,” said Misty, “don’t speak unless we tell you to and then only in a whisper.” Ms. Hawkins sat quietly. Her heart raced and her temperature rose a bit. She could not look the two girls in the eyes.

“Look at us,” ordered Misty. She waited for Ms. Hawkins to look up. “Good, now from now on, you want us to call you Ms. Bitch. What do you want us to call you?”

“Ms. Bitch,” Ms. Hawkins whispered meekly. “That’s good,” said Misty, “Now, you got off light during lunch. You do realize we could have had you run naked through the lunchroom, offer like some freshman a blowjob in the boys restroom, or even seduce one of those bitches you coach on the cheerleading squad.” Misty waited for an answer, but Ms. Hawkins just sat there. “Well, Ms. Bitch, do you?”

“Yes,” the teacher whispered.

“Good,” said Misty, “Now the three of us are going to go shopping. I assume you have your credit cards on you,” Ms. Hawkins nodded. “Good, don’t worry, though, we’ll pick out a few new items for you too.” “That would be a good idea, wouldn’t it, Ms. Bitch?” asked Carrie.

Ms. Hawkins nodded and let out a barely audible “yes.”

“Good,” said Misty, “Meet us at Spring Hills Mall. Be at the main entrance in a half hour. Bye, Ms. Bitch.” Misty waited for Ms. Hawkins to answer, but the teacher did not. “You didn’t say good bye. Just for that, stand up and pinch your ass as hard as you can.” Ms. Hawkins again fought the command, but she stood up, reached behind her, and pinched her butt cheek. She winced at the pain.

The girls giggled, “Ok,” said Misty, “Let’s try this again. Bye, Ms. Bitch.”

“Bye, girls,” the older lady whispered. Misty turned towards the door but stopped just before she reached it. She turned and whispered something to Carrie who nodded and grinned, “Uh, Ms. Bitch,” said Misty, “just to let you know once and for all who is in charge, come over here and kiss the toes of my shoes.”

Ms. Hawkins still fought the command as she started to walk towards Misty. She got down on her hands and knees, bent down, and kissed the toe of each of Misty’s shoes.

“That’s good, bitch,” said Misty, “Now do Carrie’s.” Ms. Hawkins kissed Carrie’s shoes too. “Now bow your face to the floor and stay in that position for five minutes.” Carrie and Misty left.

Ms. Hawkins remained on her hands and knees with her face just a fraction of an inch from the floor. The five minutes went on seemingly forever. She hoped the janitor would not come in to empty the trashcan. Finally, she looked at her watch and saw the five minutes were up. She quickly stood up. On the way to the mall, Ms. Hawkins wracked her mind trying to find a way out of her predicament. Then it dawned on her, the girls had not given her a command not to try to find a way out of this mess. She thought about how they were doing this to her, but she could not think of a logical answer. She finally arrived at the mall and slowly made her way to the main entrance. Her palms were clammy and her heart sped up as she approached the front doors. She entered and saw Misty and Carrie sitting on a bench near a bank of pay phones. They smiled when they saw her and waited for her to come up to them.

“Looks like Ms. Bitch made it on time,” said Misty, “Now let’s go shopping! Follow us and smile like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Ms. Hawkins’ mouth contorted into a smile and her pace quickened a bit. She totally hated the fake smile she was wearing. She knew she looked like a total idiot. She followed the girls into a department store. The girls looked at racks of clothing while she stood by and smiled like a doting mother. Misty walked over to her with a pair of leather pants, “Try these on and show us how they look on you,” the teen said. Ms. Hawkins took the pants and headed for the dressing room. She examined the pants as she walked. They were two sizes too small. She entered a dressing room and tried them on. She had to struggle to button them, but finally got them on. She walked out to show the girls. They had her turn around a few times and even bend over.

“My, oh my,” said Misty to Carrie, “Don’t they look sexy?” The girls giggled. “What do you think, Ms. Bitch?”

“They’re too tight,” Ms. Hawkins whispered. She still smiled as if she were enjoying all of this.

“Oh, but you know some men like that,” said Carrie, “At least you don’t have a flat, bony ass like old lady Coderman. I think you will buy those for yourself. ”

Ms. Hawkins smiled and turned to head back to the dressing room.

“Wait, " said Misty, “Try these on and show them to us too.” She handed a pair of white linen slacks to her teacher. They were the same size as the leather pants. Ms. Hawkins tried them on. They were as tight as the other pair. She showed them to the girls. “Are you wearing white panties?” asked Misty.

“Yes,” whispered the smiling teacher.

“That just won’t do with those,” Misty replied, “Go change back to the pants you had on first, and we’ll pick out some panties to go with that.”

When Ms. Hawkins emerged from the dressing room, Carrie was holding a pair of French cut dark purple panties with a pattern of pink purple flowers on them. “These will show right through those.” Carrie said, “Tomorrow you will wear those pants and these panties to school. Wear a long sweater or blazer, so the administration won’t see your panties. After all, if you get fired, it won’t be as much fun messin’ with you. When you’re in class, you will remove the blazer, so everyone will see. You will act like you don’t know; however, and you will always bend at the waist instead of your knees if you need to bend over for anything.” Ms. Hawkins kept her frozen smile. The girls then found some more pants on the clearance rack. These pants were also too small, but Ms. Hawkins had to purchase them anyway and wear them to school in place of her regular slacks. The girls also had her buy several push-up bras to replace the ones she wore now, so she could show off some cleavage to her classes.

The girls picked out several things for themselves, and then they went to the cosmetics counter. “Show me what you think is the tackiest colors of eye shadow they have.” Misty told Ms. Hawkins. The teacher pointed out a bright sky blue color and a bluish green color. “Good, now show me what the trashiest color of lipstick is.” Ms. Hawkins picked out a very bright purple color. “Good,” Misty said again. “This is what you’ll wear until we tell you otherwise.” When Ms. Hawkins paid for the purchases, the total came to over $600. The three then went to the food court for a bite to eat. Ms. Hawkins paid for the food, and the three took a seat in the court.

“Oh, before I forget, bitch, from now on you will make sure I pass your class. A B- would be ok. Won’t arouse too much suspicion. You will correct enough wrong answers on my tests and homework for me.” Misty smiled a superior smile and looked at the placid smile on Ms. Hawkins’ face. “So Ms. Bitch,” Misty continued, “Tell me your full name.”

“Bonnie Jane Hawkins,” the teacher whispered. Her face was now aching from the constant smiling.

“Bonnie Jane, eh?” said Carrie.

“Yeah, B.J. Hawkins,” said a delighted Misty, “B.J. huh? You won’t mind if we call you ‘Blow Job,’ will you now.” Misty said as a command, not a question.

“No,”

“I didn’t think so, Blow Job Bitch, and wipe that smile off your face. It’s getting annoying.” Misty got up and went to the restroom as the smile left the teacher’s face.

“Hey, Blow Job Bitch,” said Carrie, “say, ‘I love teenage cock,’ and say it like you really mean it.

“I love teenage cock.” The teacher said in normal tone of voice.

“Great, now say ‘I suck donkey dicks.’”

“I suck donkey dicks.”

“No, say it like you’re proud of it, like you’re happy about it.”

“I suck donkey dicks!” Ms. Hawkins replied with a smile and a playful shake of her head. She noticed a lady sitting with a small child at a nearby table. The lady gave her a disgusted look and returned to her chicken sandwich.

Carrie laughed, “Oh, this spell rules!”

“A spell?” thought Ms. Hawkins, “They cast a spell on me?” She mulled over this new information as Misty returned.

The three ate their meals and then the girls got up to leave. “Now don’t forget what clothes and make-up to wear tomorrow, Blow Job Bitch,” said Carrie.

“Yeah,” added Misty, “and put a little more eye shadow on than you usually would too, and when you get home, dance naked around your house for a half hour or so.”

The girls started to leave when Misty came back, “Oh, I noticed that salon on the way out. Go there and have your hair dyed platinum blonde. You will act like you totally love your new look, and you will give your stylist a generous tip. Tomorrow morning, tease your hair up like really big.” She patted Ms. Hawkins on the head and left with Carrie.

Ms. Hawkins sat at the table. She wanted to cry, but the command not to was still in effect. She got up and slowly walked to the salon.

Ms. Hawkins arrived home later that day. She looked at her new hair in the hallway mirror as she dropped her shopping bags inside the front door. It was a much different look than her dark brunette locks. It was not too bad, she thought, just very different and not like her. She suddenly realized she was undressing. She walked into her living room and disrobed. She carefully laid her clothes on the back of her recliner then started to dance around the living room. She moved from room to room as she twirled, skipped, and shimmied around. After about a half an hour, she stopped and redressed. Her mood had turned from humiliation and near despondency to anger and outrage. She went to her computer and logged on to the Internet. She spent hours researching spells, magic, and mind control. She found little information that was useful. Most of the sites dealt with fiction, fantasy, or gaming. She found nothing that could tell her what the girls had used on her, or how she could undo it. She had to take a sleep aid in order to get to sleep that night.