The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Nick had recently visited the characters of his numerous erotic hypnosis fantasy stories, (utilizing self hypnosis, astral projection, and remote viewing). The stories were all written as prescribed therapy, and as an exercise in self-awareness, recommended by his psychologist, to help him with his PTSD. PTSD from his time in Desert storm and a couple civilian car accidents.

We last left Nick in the middle of watching a movie with the young female actor who wanted to play ‘Lashawndra’ in the recently optioned film of the fictional story, and the ever re-hypnotized yoga adherent.. right when a swirling vortex over took the room and suddenly transported him.

He felt what felt like a taser shock to his abs and loins and went into unconsciousness.

Nick looked around and saw he was now in a very well appointed room, semi-reclined on a couch. He looked over and sitting at a chair across from the couch, was an impeccably dressed man taking notes in a leather bound book, using a fountain pen,that looked like bone, inlaid with silver. The Dr’s suit was custom made, and his paisley tie matched his pocket square. His shirt had cufflinks. His movements and diction were precise, staid.

The psychiatrist spoke with a subtle accent. Nick couldn’t tell if it was South African, Dutch, Danish, or Icelandic. He struggled to place it. It was the kind of voice that tranquilized you.

The psychiatrist spoke: ‘Nick,I’ll bet you feel like you took a taser to the balls about now….and you seem to have been troubled of late.

I noted that while you refuse psychiatric medication, you seem to be using your own body’s oxytocin, and endorphins to cope. In other words you self soothe using masturbation.

I perused your browser history and you seem to hover more than a little bit over ebony sole sites. Basically you are self gratifying while sole gazing, which is using your various fetishes to get that post orgasm rush I would suspect you are putting a dent in the state’s Kleenex supply.”

Nick: “So, you are saying I jerk off too much gazing at the various ebony sole sites? Is it a crime to be turned on by women of all types and imagine realizing your fetish fantasies? I mean my fantasies are pretty inclusive and in my single years I indulge my fetish with every nationality. I only had one white chick that hated anyone touching her feet, so…no 2nd date. Jeez what a prude.”

Psychiatrist: “Nick, you make it sound so sordid when you say it that way. In 2020-Yes. You do have a way of recycling memories from your past, then putting them into your ‘little stories’. Why is it you get so excited over women’s legs and feet of every type, regardless of their race or ethnicity?

You have been a bit over-focused on it since the Covin plandemic started. Obviously you aren’t just a ‘tits man are you?’

Doing my due diligence, I noticed you ‘rebooted’ as you say, several stories, making your protagonists a bit more intense, and the ‘victim..’ He paused “but don’t most ‘victims’ set up their own fall? Is anyone truly a ‘victim?’ Your characters are more ‘hapless, helpless, and yet… deserving.”

Nick: “Wait, hold on… how did you get my web history Han…” Nick was interrupted: abruptly

Psychiatrist: “Stop” You know you can’t do fan fiction. I am ‘simply a character that resembles a character from a show you have been binging on’, and I am in probably your subconscious. Or this is a real session, you’ll know when you get the bill.” He laughed

He continued: “Because this lockdown seems to have been affecting you, much like everyone else. People who crave human contact, and lack access to it will re-live their real life pre-covin exploits, over and over since no new memories can be created now. You are in a self-gratification loop. You can’t just go to a night club now like you used to, and meet a strange woman, and turn an innocent foot rub after dancing into more…much more…

Nick: ‘Uh, ok. So….am I on ‘the menu?’ Or am I safe? Lol. Psychiatrist: “Not at the moment, that would impede your finishing the story if I was to harvest your liver, or those well developed pectorals for their meat, or your other nutritional supplement soaked organs.

Although your glute development and your leg day work-outs did make me think about it, honestly. But you’d taste like a pharmacy, no doubt.

You take far too many questionable supplements, and I fear you’d have an overwhelming taste of creatine. But we will discuss your fetish, your obsession. Your various proclivities….”

Nick: “Well, ever since communicable diseases entered the zeitgeist, the foot fetish has become the most popular fetish, Dr. It’s far more common in men, so naturally my stories feature women suddenly imbued with them…so I can imagine a woman loving female feet as much as I do, usually in a situation she awkwardly got into.”

Psychiatrist: “You really do spend too much time on line. Nick. 50% of your stories are references to specific furniture, fashion, and medical terms, not to mention specific shoe styles. Sure, the detail adds so much depth and realism, that no doubt some forget they are fiction. I dare say you project your own fetishes into the characters you write. You transfer your foot fetish into the sub character, and then you imbue the dom character with a demand to enforce submission from the other character. You ARE the characters you write, which is why you like them. Conversely people tend to dislike what they dislike about themselves, hence your detractors. And I am sure, as a reader suggested, some find themselves both aroused then furious with you for their arousal. Sometimes people forget, your characters are singular fantasies, specific to each story and they don’t represent all people on the planet.”

The Dr. scribbld something on a pad. Then he was silent for a long pause. He then looked at Nick in then he smirked and said:

“Why can’t you just focus on breasts, instant seduction, and northern European light haired people like everyone else? Nick: “What? Like a bad porno?”

The Dr. : “You have a proclivity for slow burns, one person vanquishing their perceived nemesis, whose life they alter utterly. Your ‘fans’ have written you clearly mentioning they don’t want the thrall to escape their fate…and you typically accommodate them. You often get ‘more humiliation’ requested, and you grant that as well.”

Nick: “Fist of all…I tend to say ‘readers’ finding ‘fans’ to be pretentious. And now that you mention it, when I do have a character on her knees, adoring the feet of her captor, it does flash from me as voyeur to seeing thru her eyes, and back. Wow.. and also true, several who have written to me, and wrote later annoyed ‘the character recovered’ or if the character found freedom, they invariably wanted them stuck at thrall. Readers of hypnofetish typically want the victim to be the victim for good. That is quite perceptive of you”

Psychiatrist: “Of course it is. But it doesn’t explain why you don’t feature and obsess on breasts more, and you take so long getting into the debauchery. You could just cut to the chase a lot faster. Obviously you like to tell a story slowly.”

Nick: “Otherwise my stories would seem like an 80’s porno, “Man knocks on door, says he is here to fix the cable in a pronounced accent, then topless, vapid, large breasted woman answers the door, joined by her friend usually of another ethnicity, also well endowed, and in seconds the 3 have a tryst. I find that too pedestrian, too pedantic, I don’t feel involved and the story doesn’t draw me in. I also don’t like to watch another man have sex. Not my thing. Two women together, one being dominant, That is my kink.”

Psychiatrist: “So, basically you are a ‘porn snob’? Nice big Lebowski reference by the way, I would wager you were attracted to the dominant nature of Maud, but rewound Bunnie’s toe polish scene more than once, even though her toes presented as too short and stubby for you. You seem to be somewhere between Walter and Jackie Treehorn, Nick. I would venture to guess you even dress like him…in real life. Or is this?”

Nick: “Yikes, it’s like you read my mind. I do have a large number of different types of women in my stories, and my fetish does predicate longer toes, larger shoe sizes and the structure might be a facet of why the ethnic component is in there. Read the comments on ebony soles, they seem to echo my turn ons. Many people like the ebony soles for their strength, softness, etc. etc.

I guess I was breastfed enough as an infant, hence not so obsessed with tits. But as far as resembling Walter, that ‘creamains to be seen.’

Suddenly a book-case swung open, revealing that it was a door, and a, ringlet haired, red headed ‘pale skinned woman’ in her early 30’s clad in a full bondage outfit, swiftly approached, and then slapped Nick once, hard, then placed her spike heeled foot on Nick’s chest, shoving her open toed shoe toward Nick’s mouth.

Red Head: “Sniff it fucker! then kiss my foot!”

Nick did.

Nick: “Oooh, new leather, and fresh polish, sexy!”

Just as quickly she then retracted it, and retreated back to from where she emerged, allowing the door to close, and then she stood on this side of the shut door with a blank expression at attention.

Nick was shocked.

Psychiatrist: “I despise puns, as does Mistress Cassandra.”

Psychiatrist. “Look, I delved into your stories from the beginning, as well as explored your memories while you were under, Mr. ‘Fleenor’. Yes…. I know your real name, and where you hail from in Florida as well.”

Nick: ‘What? Under? When? You can’t give my real name, not in this era of doxxing. My god, what if people show up at my doorstep?”

Psychiatrist: “Nick, you’re evading the point. I was able to delve deep enough to discover your obsession goes back to your early formative years….

You know how sometimes… kids get abused and then ‘proclivities’ changed? Some, not all…Well, when you were but a young lad, in warm Miami, you had a babysitter, a very attractive, deeply tanned babysitter, who was in fact… a hippie chick. It was the summer, and while she was competent as far as keeping you from harm, she would casually kick off her sandals, and innocently sit barefoot playing guitar while you sat at her feet listening. She’d watch you so you wouldn’t scamper away, but holding a guitar, she’d stop your crawling away using her foot. She didn’t realize it was causing you to associate her feet to anything.

Psychiatrists agree that fetishes can’t simply be ‘cured’ or abandoned. In fact attempting to do that is as damaging as trying conversion therapy, and… it doesn’t work. Google it. Plus, she used the TV as a babysitter, showing Dr.Goldfoot movies and Gilligan’s island. No doubt the female robots and the hypnosis ring episode of Island warped your young mind. That and her cute ‘hippy feet”

Nick: “Whoa, that’s deep. So not only do you know so much about me, but the fetish I have, and I am stuck with it? So basically giving a foot fetishist a hard time for their fetish is equivalent to giving someone with another fetish or identity issue a hard time?” Psychiatrist: The short answer is…Yes…moving forward: As a young adult you subsequently worked at that ‘upscale ladies only shoe store’ after your family moved North to New York City, and you found yourself aroused placing expensive, new leather shoes onto the feet of women of every ethnicity, taking mental notes about their feet, obsequiously removing their old shoes to assist placing the new shoes on them. You obviously took detailed mental notes.

Sure, it gave you ample opportunity to ‘sample’ the different types of women, and take mental notes that women in general keep themselves pretty clean, and there was not a discernible difference between the scent components that attracted and aroused you, between women of different races and ethnicities.

In fact, the repeated exposure only deepened your ‘fetish.’

Meanwhile, no doubt, some authors of ‘scat’ stories or ‘analingus tales’ or “incest fables’ or bestiality is cringing.” Laughed the psychiatrist. It’s amusing how the purveyors of One proclivity judge others, isn’t it?”

Nick: “May I have some more of this tea doc, my head is spinning, from all your revelations.”

Psychiatrist: “I see you like the Psilocybin, Nick, has it kicked in yet? It’s a hallucinogenic that can serve a therapeutic value, under my supervision, of course”

Nick: “I thought it tasted familiar, but it’s been so long. No, it hasn’t yet, my stomach isn’t getting the tell tale mild nausea either yet.”

Psychiatrist: to Red haired woman: “Bring Mr. Vegas, another tea, but much stronger this time.”

Red Haired Domme: “Yes master.” She disappeared behind the bookcase.

Nick: “I haven’t tried these since the 80’s” Psychiatrist: “You seem to have forgotten your early 2000’s indulgence in Bakersfield”

Nick: “Oh shit you’re right. I was thinking I hadn’t indulged in them for so long. But I did find that small ziplock in a kitchen drawer in Bakersfield, while helping a friend paint.”

Psychiatrist: “Well, you are a good friend. I thoroughly dislike home repair. Back to point: while you were under, you revealed you hadn’t indulged in worshipping a woman’s feet who really had hyperhidrosis, which is a disturbing kink in my eyes, but then some might find my culinary tastes disturbing. It seems, you had A ‘dry spell’, so to speak.”

Nick: “What? You’re right, it has been some time, since I got lost indulging that kink, that was truly a find….and hey, wait… you bastard, you just used a pun!

Psychiatrist: “I am the psychiatrist.”

Nick: My god, I remember, I met her at a wedding, a pale thin woman in her 20’s, well, we were both in our 20’s. She had a mature look for her age, and I offered her a foot rub, and she was reticent at first, embarrassed by her profuse sweating. Even though she had a shower before the event, she was deeply concerned.

She quickly discovered she had no need to be, I was so incredibly aroused, that back at her place I must have spent a good ½ hour utterly worshipping them, licking them nonstop. It was an apex for me kink wise, and a highlight for her. She told me several years later… nobody had ever done that to her feet before, she said it boosted her confidence immensely, and she raved about how it felt, and insisted on it from her future lovers.”

The mushrooms began to kick in, and the room lost focus. Just then the red haired woman with the ringlet hair brought Nick his tea, which was much stronger. He took one sip and she then brought a bare foot to his face and she held it there, demanding he kiss it. The moment he indulged her, the room began to spin after only a few kisses. He fell into unconsciousness.

Nick was awakened with a slap to his face. He surveyed his surroundings. He was at the beach apartment of Rhonda James and Rhonda had just slapped him awake. She held up a cup of coffee, and held a huge grin.

Rhonda: “You need a cup of my Java, well, Karen’s coffee. She still makes it for me every morning. Nick, you look haggard, what’s going on? Where did you just come from, why do you look 10 yrs older to me?”

Nick: “2020, it’s a horrible time, the nation is divided, lots of infighting, I don’t want to go into it. But suffice to say everyone is pissed, and they are all wearing masks, or berating each other for not wearing them. Everything and anything is ‘racist’ now, they fired aunt Jemima.”

Rhonda: “Laughing, certainly not you, I have witnessed a rainbow coalition of women enter and leave your apartment. I assume you are doing your foot thing with all of them, you delightful little perv. God knows your fetish got me my floors done for almost free, lol.”

Nick: “I almost forgot about that, how you showed up at my door step one morning, with coffee in hand, your calves all oiled up, your Adidas all sandy, and then slyly asked if ‘you covered the equipment cost, would I do the labor…and make your hardwood floors look like mine.’

I had to think about it, then said I would…. on the condition I was your ‘exclusive go to foot rub guy for 1 yr’.

Rhonda: “I agreed, thinking, ‘big deal 1x a week a free foot rub” which… turned into several times a week, and then full-fledged foot worship. I mean, I loved foot rubs, but you…made me cum with what you did to my feet!”

And then you were walking up the street to service that ½ Irish, ½ Mexican girl’s feet, almost as often, you said she even got into some master and slave games with you I remember. Her as the mistress, of course.”

Nick: “Of course. Yeah, the 1990’s were amazing. No social distancing, no masks, not so many riots and everyone was horny.’

Rhonda: “What the hell is ‘social distancing?’

Nick: “I will tell you more after I give you… a foot rub, in fact a worship session, it’s been a while..can you have Karen pose as your footrest, so I get the double dose, y’know… your erotic scent, while resting your perfect feet on her, while she blankly stares at nothing? I really need it. We have been in lockdown for over 100 days, as America cowers over fear of a ‘virus’ with a 99.8% survival rate.”

Rhonda: ‘The future sounds like it sucks. The trauma obviously has you amping up your kink, just to cope. What’s next, 4 women sitting side by side? Oh, do we have flying cars yet?”

Nick: ‘No, they tried self-driving cars, but they all but vanished. Now it’s all about brain chips, questionable vaccinations, apology culture, and mask etiquette.”

Rhonda: ‘Fly your freak flag Nick, nobody ever died from toe sucking, don’t apologize for that. I’m out as bi and nobody gives a shit. Now take off my leather sandals you fucker, and show my feet the adoration they deserve!….That’s how you like it right? Me being kinda bossy?’

Nick, laughed, then complied, he reveled in Rhonda’s soles, and their delicate new Birkenstock aroma, while Karen stared into space, blank.. acting as Rhonda’s footstool.

Right at Nick’s orgasm he flashed to the surroundings he recognized as Lashawndra’s salon, formerly Melody’s house. Kneeling beside her in her go to pose was Melody, beautifully all tatted up, her hair platinum blonde, her expression vacant. She held the look of someone who wondered ‘what the hell just happened to me.’

Nick composed himself, and he zipped up his pants. Nick: “Oh, now I am here, nice.” Lashawndra: “Yep, there you are.” She laughed and took a sip of a coffee drink. Nick: “So, how are you enjoying this adventure so far?”

Lashawndra: “Well, take a look around. I am in a better house, I’m making all kinds of money, and even though some of my friends thought I was weirder than shit, you damn well know how good a foot rub feels when your feet hurt. And getting back at someone who dissed you (disrespected you) always feels good. Sure not everyone feels about Melody as I did, but nobody likes a, a.. Nick: ‘A Karen, they call them ‘Karen’s in 2020, a derisive term for a busy body… often but not always.. a Caucasian woman who is full of her self and usually acts in a prejudiced or bigoted manner, according to Urban dictionaries on line..”

Lashawndra: “Nice, a “Karen” that’s funny. So I am sure you can guess, as much as this adventure empowers me and lets me win over my ‘enemy’…my enemy would probably not be happy. She spends her days in permanent apology for her sins and the sins of all Karens.

But, shit it’s only feet, for the most part, so it is what it is. Someone must have inspired her, right? Just like me?”

Nick looked at her fondly, studying her. He studied Melody as well. Nick: “Among other things, I read a story once upon a time, called ‘Jillian’s tale, and Melody’s whole adventure has been kind of a hybrid Homage to that, and the fact she physically resembles a long time crush I had. She’s also a combination of all the ‘Karen’s’ I read about online, personality wise” He said.

“You, however, are my more intense crush. Your features are a combination of a black girl I dated back in the 80s whose parents didn’t want their daughter dating…well how can I say what they called me, it starts with ‘half, and the last part rhymes with ‘read’, so that didn’t work out.

However, it didn’t end with us ‘breaking up’ and all those emotions, it ended right while we were getting started…. me having just introduced her to my kink, which she said tickled but she liked it, then we were pulled apart. So think: Spike Lee’s Jungle fever, not me being prejudiced. I’m simply a horn-dog who gets off on women’s feet, domination, hypnosis and my penis responds to all races, and she and I had unfinished fetish business.”

Lashawndra: “Yeah, a freak,” she laughed. ‘I had Melody look at Ebonysoles.com, constantly, and Brazil feet, and even literotica, and frankly you aren’t that special, and I don’t mean that in a mean way. But there’s a whole bunch of folks writing about just what you do, and they make films about it, even graphic novels.’

Nick: “I must be that last of a dying breed, as I don’t get insulted easily, at all. Did you know a photo of a 19 yr old college student with a shirt that said: I make the rules…in part inspired you? Please continue”

Lashawndra: “No shit…anyway. apparently there are a LOT of people that like the idea of putting a good looking ebony woman on a pedestal, and many get their rocks off when she is on the ‘mean side’, if the huge number of stories online mean anything.

Shit there are even stories where the author describes a sloppy, dirty, kinda fat girl, turning a white snobby college girl into her slave. Did you read ‘hypnotic socks?’ The slow burn was like yours but it took the nasty up to 11, she does stuff you never suggest.”

Nick: ‘Oh, I read it, even got aroused at parts, but thought it went way further than me in the ‘ick’ factor. A foot fetish is one thing, a golden shower is one thing, but daily ingestion of an entire bladder’s contents, or unclean analingus…is frankly dangerous.”

Lashawndra: “Yeah, a golden shower is one deal. But a full tummy of pee…no thanks…On another topic, some shithead hit my Escalade and did some damage, and my ins. was late. Can you help with that?”

Nick Held his hand out and said: “Ipod please.”

Lashawndra handed Nick the ipod, and he typed furiously. Then a weird warping effect made the whole room shudder, then it ceased just as quickly.

Then, suddenly the doorbell rang.

Nick: “Ok, please put your ballet flats on and then answer the door. I wanna adore those size 11’s but not after you’ve walked around barefoot, please. You know…crumbs.’

Lashawndra laughed and slipped them on, then she went to the front door. A technician from Cadillac in coveralls stood at the door, a courtesy car was at the curb.

Technician: “Miss, your car is good as new, we even detailed it for you, the bill was paid in full by a Mr. Vegas. Here are your keys, and this receipt.”

Lashawndra closed the door and jumped with glee.

She looked at the receipt.

Lashawndra: “You paid the insurance for the next year?” Nick: “Feh, that’s as far as they’d let me, your wonderful ‘governor’ will raise rates every year.” Lashawndra: “That’s so awesome, and it was so fast, you get to worship my feet for sure today. Do you want me to be mean to you… or all nice? Does she join or does she watch?

Nick: “When you are the author of a story.. you can do that. In movies they call it ‘breaking the 4th wall. I’d like you to be mean.. if that’s ok, and I’d prefer she watch, super jealous, but helpless to stop me. But right after I ejaculate, free her to crawl over and continue.

Lashawndra: “You got it! You… you fucker…is that good? I know this is a role you wrote for me, but some people think it’s real.”

Nick: “Go for it. Sell it! Make me obey you and adore those size 11’s. Pretty please.” Lashawndra: “You, you fucker, get on your knees and worship my feet! Take off my shoes and thank me for letting you! You kinky son of a bitch, you foot loving inclusive as fuck motherfucker, show me, show me I am worthy of your foot worship!”

Nick began to perspire, he was so excited. He did not know or care why he got off on the idea of Lashawndra in charge for so long, but it was probably a lot of reasons. His penis was now engorged. Melody watched with jealousy.

Nick worked on his task, and then right as he ejaculated, he awoke in a different room.

This time it was a pure white room. A very serious Man in a white suit entered. Man in suit: “Mr. Vegas, ahem, you have had an aneurysm, and you’re in an induced coma. You’ll remain here and/or in a cryogenic state until we can repair the damage. I’m with tech support. You had been taking so many weight loss stimulants, coffee/espresso, and monster drinks while writing erotica, which is bad enough.. but we think that 5 hour energy 4 pack, and your intense orgasm sent you over the edge.”

Nick: “Oops. That sucks. Now what? Do you have porn in this realm?”

Man in suit: “We are limited to the porn in your long term memory sir. So: Fmconcepts, (the foot fetish site of videos w/Latin girls getting their feet worshipped. Brazil feet, hamster domme videos, Fetish 4, and the usual sites you trolled, but there will be zero updates, no new material. You’re in a coma remember, you’re frozen.

Nick: “I guess that’s just as well. I will ride out the pandemic, and who knows what else. I bet I wake up after the zombie apocalypse, or like Joe Bauers in idiocracy, as we were close already, lol.

This seems like a better place to be for a while. I like your choice of low volume deep house trance and classical, btw.”

Man in suit: “Of course you do, you picked it. Mistress Cassandra will be in momentarily to sit on your comatose lap and rest the soles of her feet on your face while she sits on you on the gurney, reading to you.”

Nick: “Nice”

Equipment beeping sound.