The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As I walked up the stairs where I worked, Mark stopped me and said, “I had a dream about us last night.” I stared at him blankly, as I barely knew Mark. He was a nice guy and all, but despite working together, we didn’t really know each other.

Like me, he had brown hair and brown eyes. He also had a mustache. I knew he had to be a bit older than me. He only stood a couple of inches taller than myself. Although I didn’t know him well, I did like his sense of humor. He’d cracked me up one day while shelving things at the Wal*Mart. He’d put up a can of nacho cheese marked “aged cheddar cheese.” He’d given me an amused look and said, “Aged cheddar cheese, why am I not convinced?” I admit it had given me a hearty laugh and we’d joked about it several times.

“What did you dream?” I asked curiously.

“I dreamed we were on a boat, and it was headed towards a rocky shore,” he told me.

I smiled and told him that was interesting, in a weird sort of way. Inside I was a little concerned, was it possible he was “feeling” me? I’d not sent any energy his way so that was highly unlikely. I brushed it off as an oddity and gave it no more thought.

A few days later, I looked at the picture my friend/co-worker had drawn and just lost it. I knew I was overreacting but at the same time, how could anyone be so heartless? The picture was somebody slitting his wrists and the caption said, “The only way.” I didn’t think it was funny, and let Ian know this in no uncertain terms. He clearly thought I was overreacting and blew me off, which just infuriated me even more.

“It’s not funny!” I told him angrily.

“Lighten up, Sheila,” he said. He suddenly ripped the paper in half. He had a very shocked look on his face, as though he didn’t know why he’d done it. I cringed internally, I hadn’t meant to make him do that, I’d just gotten very angry.

Pretending to think Ian had done that on purpose I looked at him and said, “Thanks for that, it shows you have some respect for my feelings.” Ian just nodded. I mean, he wasn’t about to admit he hadn’t exactly done that voluntarily.

Mark was witnessing this exchange silently. Later, when it was getting to be near closing time, Mark suggested he and I go out for a late night dessert. I looked at him and groaned internally. I knew he was concerned about my reaction to the picture, and he didn’t need to be. Still, dessert sounded good and maybe I could assuage his fears.

We walked over to the nearby Steak ‘n Shake.

“We’re going to order a large sundae and share it,” he said, with an amused twinkle in his eye. I didn’t bother arguing with him. He ordered for us, including a soda for me.

To Mark‘s credit he made some idle chit chat before diving into the reason for this little “after work rendezvous.”

“Now, you want to tell me about that picture?” he probed gently. I pondered his question, wondering how honest I should be. I decided to just take the plunge.

“I know you are worried that I am suicidal, but I’m not. However, a year ago or so, I did take a knife to my arms. I don’t know that it was a suicide attempt, but I don’t know that it wasn’t either. There’s nothing else to tell you about that.”

He nodded his understanding, and said “I was just worried, and wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“I appreciate that,” I said sincerely. I said something had been going on in my life that had just overwhelmed me emotionally, and in an effort to release the negative emotion, I’d cut myself. I explained that I am a very highly emotionally charged person (if he only knew the half of it) and sometimes I have trouble controlling my feelings. The cutting had the effect of releasing some of the intenseness.

I wasn’t about to explain to him that sometimes my emotions also overwhelmed those around me. I’d never really talked about it with anyone before, and I dealt with it by having as few relationships with people as possible.

“The physical pain I suffered after the cutting, coupled with the effort of having to hide the scars and lie about where they came from, was more than enough to convince me I never wanted to do it again,“ I told him when I saw his concerned look. “I figured out after that, that it wasn’t the way to release emotional pain.”

He didn’t probe any further, for which I was grateful. Since we were there and had ordered dessert, we stayed and enjoyed it. He told me he was, in fact, an older college student (28) who was working at Wal*Mart this summer to earn extra money. He was engaged to be married. His fiancée was out of the state, doing an internship for the summer. I was interested in the fact that he wore an engagement ring, not a lot of guys do that.

I told him I was also earning some money for college, and in fact had only one year left. At age 23, I was only a little behind schedule for finishing. He was majoring in Electrical Engineering; I was working on a psychology degree. We talked, laughed, and both enjoyed the company and the ice cream.

Here it was, four weeks later and this “hanging out after our late shifts on the weekends” had become a bit of a ritual for us. Often we went out for a drink with some co-workers, and then just lingered in the parking lot. We had some commonalities. We’d both lost parents at a young age (my dad, his mom). We both had some geek interests, like D&D. A real connection and friendship had developed, and I have to admit, I was having some deeper feelings. I was trying not use my “energy” to draw him in, but I was probably doing it without meaning to. He was engaged and it wasn’t my intention to interfere with that.

Sometimes while cleaning up around work I’d sing a song, any song that was running through my head, so I was delighted one day when I heard Mark singing a little while he swept up. However, I couldn’t recognize the song to save my soul.

So find me a horse, as red as the sun;

Find me a blade that will make their blood run.

I will ride out at dawn, while the sun’s in the sky,

So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie.

I have to admit I got sucked in and before I knew it, I was walking around singing that same little verse myself, wishing in my head that Mark might find the song to play for me. I must have thought about it too hard, because Mark promised to find it and play it for me at some point. I was pleased and, yet, a little concerned that my energy was traveling to him so easily.

One night he came to my place, for a change, after work, instead of hanging out in the parking lot. It was probably midnight, and we decided to go for a walk. I started thinking about how nice it would be to hold his hand while we walked.

“What are you thinking about?” Mark asked me quietly.

I stammered out a bunch of stupid things that were NOT really on my mind. “I don’t want to go back to school. I’m really enjoying my job at Wal*Mart because our fellow employees are so much fun.”

I talked about anything and everything, except what was really going on. As if he read my mind, he suddenly stuck his hand out to me. My heart flip-flopped, and a momentary panic rose up inside of me.

He must have felt me thinking it, maybe he even felt compelled to do it, because it was what I wanted. I hated the effect I could have on people sometimes, I didn’t usually do it on purpose, and I certainly hadn’t tonight. On the other hand, I wanted it, so why not? I reached out and accepted the offered hand. We walked in silence for a while, just enjoying each others’ presence. I knew this was wrong on some fundamental level, but rational thought and emotions rarely go hand in hand.

“I wondered what you would do, when I offered you my hand,” he said quietly. “I was happy when you took it.”

I had no idea what to say, as I felt emotions starting to choke me. He seemed to understand, so he hugged me and said he should go as it was late. I watched him drive away, sighing.

I went back into my place, knowing it was late, and also knowing I was not in the least bit tired. We’d made a connection tonight and I knew it. I’d known for a while that I had something of a crush on him, but I’d hoped it wasn’t returned. I groaned. I should have known better. As we got closer, I was bound to have an effect on him. No wonder I was such a loner.

I have a gift, though really it’s a curse. It sounds crazy but I am what I refer to as “highly emotionally charged.” Sometimes my emotions draw others in, and they are affected by my thoughts and feelings without realizing it. At times even inanimate objects are affected, if it’s a particularly strong emotion. I don’t know when I’d become aware of it, but I knew it was something I had to be careful of. The emotions created by it in others were artificial. If I could stop sending energy in their direction, my influence on them would go away. Unfortunately, when the feelings were very strong, I wasn’t always able to get them that much under control (much like with Ian and the picture).

I thought about my old boyfriend. We’d just gone to the movies together one day as friends and seen the movie “Ghost.” I’d become so carried away by the romantic feelings the movie evoked in me that the next thing I knew, my friend was madly in love with me. It had come on so fast and suddenly I hadn’t known how to handle it (I was only 19 at the time). When someone becomes that infatuated with you that quickly, though, it’s hard not to get caught up in it.

Our relationship had been turbulent at best. Scott was my first love and I had even less control over my “energy” then, than I do now. We’d fought passionately and loved passionately. I recalled him on the phone with me crying about how he needed me so much. It became overwhelming and I finally decided it needed to end. I even went as far as to tell him I was intimate with other men so he’d go away, but this seemed to make him want me more. Complete cut off had been my only option so I’d finally done it. Once my energy stopped going in his direction he’d gotten over it, though it had taken a bit of time.

After that, I’d sworn off romantic relationships forever. Now what had I done? I’d developed feelings for someone promised to another, and he seemed to be developing feelings for me too. I knew I should stop it, but again, rational thought and emotions do not mix well.

We continued to talk, sharing our commonalities. We loved a lot of the same songs. He recorded a Dan Fogelberg album for me, and I did the same with England Dan & John Ford Coley for him.

The next weekend, his fiancée came to town for a visit. A group of people were going over to the Steak ‘n Shake after work, so she was going to join us. I seriously pondered just skipping, but decided seeing and meeting her was exactly what I needed to wake me up to what I was doing.

We had a big group tonight, about ten of us. I wound up sitting next to Mark’s fiancée, whose name was Chris (short for Christine). She wasn’t terribly attractive, nor was she unattractive. She seemed more interested in talking to me than anyone else at the table. She asked me where I lived when at school and I said the dorms, as it was cheaper than an apartment.

“Do you have roomies?” she inquired. She gave me a thumb’s up when I said I had a single. She was SO intent on making conversation with me, I moaned internally thinking that she must be picking up on my vibrations. Course, maybe Mark had just mentioned me one time too often to her and had made her wonder.

I had to admit that if I hadn’t felt the way I did about Mark, she’s someone I could have been friends with, if I allowed myself to have friends. She seemed like a genuinely nice person, but I knew she was on a mission in making so much conversation with me.

Desperately wanting out of this conversation, I heard a song playing in the restaurant and just decided to sing it to draw a close to this uncomfortable discussion. I sang a few verses with Hank Williams Jr.:

I’m just laid up here in a country state of mind

Catchin’ these fish like they’re goin’ out of style

Drinkin’ this homemade wine

Hey, if the sun don’t come up tomorrow

People, I’ve had a good time

I’m just laid up here in a country state of mind

This made everyone laugh a bit, and I took the break in conversation to talk to Robin, my coworker who was on the other side of me.

The next weekend, as the weekend before, he came to my place again, and we walked and talked.

“Sheila, I know how this is going to sound crazy but I think I have feelings for you.”

I said nothing, not knowing what to say, choking on my words. I was so afraid of my emotions overwhelming both of us that I couldn’t even move.

“Sheila, if I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?”

Understand that I’m a bit naïve; my avoidance of people has left some of my life experiences a bit limited. So, like a gullible female I whispered, “No.”

“That’s too bad,” he murmured. In that moment I wanted him to kiss me, to take me in his arms and just pull me near him. He must have felt it, because his arms were suddenly around me and he was drawing his face near mine.

I had caused this and I wanted it so much, but it was wrong and I knew it. I wasn’t sure what to do. In a panic I took a huge step backwards and pulled away from him. He looked confused, like he had no idea why I’d done that. How could he not know? He didn’t comment on it, and walked me to my apartment.

I was relieved, and disappointed. I wanted him to kiss me, wanted to taste his lips. I hadn’t kissed anyone since Scott, and that had been years ago. I’d told Mark about Scott and he knew I’d not seen anyone seriously since then. What I’d failed to mention was that I’d not seen anyone “not seriously” either.

We stood at my doorway for a moment. “Would you mind giving me a glass of water?” he asked. I couldn’t really say no so I invited him in. I’d not had him inside before, and I was embarrassed about the clutter. Housekeeping just isn’t one of my strong points, and never has been.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I laughingly apologized.

“While it is cluttered, I can see that everything has its own little orbit or general area where it is supposed to be,” he said kindly. “That makes it an organized clutter.”

I smiled gratefully at him for lying.

I went to the kitchen and got him some water and handed him the glass. He drank it thirstily, and we stood there for a moment looking at each other. Again I felt a deep urge to kiss him, and pushed down that urge as quickly as possible but it was too late. He leaned in, and slowly, gently, pressed his lips against mine. It was a very soft, tender, and somewhat hesitant kiss. My resolve crumbled as he pulled away. Then he came back for another kiss, and my tongue instantly went searching for his. We kissed for what seemed like forever, arms at our sides, only our mouths touching.

When at last our lips parted, there was an awkward pause. Then he said, almost as though to break the tension, “Scott must have liked tongue.” I had no idea what he meant by that so I asked him. “Chris just teases with the tongue, but you go right for it.” I knew I was blushing profusely now, admitting to myself the truth in his words. Scott had been the only guy I’d ever kissed, and he’d liked tongue, and lots of it.

Trying to ease the tension, I joked that his mustache had tickled me. He informed me that a man could do interesting things with a mustache. I tried to imagine what he was talking about, and he laughed at my obvious confusion with a twinkle in his eye. I had no idea how to respond.

“I should probably get going,” he said, almost reluctantly. I agreed without hesitation. Part of me really wanted him to stay, and I knew I had to get him out of there before he picked up on that and felt compelled to stay.

Alone in my room, my thoughts spun around and around in my head. I reminded myself that his feelings weren’t real, that he was being directly affected by my feelings. It’s not that I affect everyone that way, only when I was channeling into them as a rule. I was setting myself up to be hurt, and possibly ruin his engagement to the person he really loved. I should stay away from him.

School would be my answer, it would start back soon and I’d go back to the dorms and be further away then I was now. Everything would end then, wouldn’t it?

The next weekend, I wasn’t working on Saturday, but decided to go to the after work get together anyway. Since I wouldn’t have to be in work clothes I decided to wear this pink dress I had, made with material that sort of resembled denim. I put on a pair of my black flats and brushed my hair until it shined. I knew I was dressing up for Mark. I knew I shouldn’t. I looked at the jeans in my closet and pondered changing, and decided not to.

When I showed up at the restaurant, my co-workers were going to have an after dinner drink. Mark was obviously delighted to see me. I hadn’t told anyone I was coming, including him. We talked small talk with everyone for a while, then everyone left, and we stood against my car in the parking lot.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress before,” he said, in obvious admiration. I blushed profusely. It seems no matter how much I long for someone to say nice or flattering things to me; I never know how to handle it when they do. I’m sure the solitude I’d largely kept all these years was responsible for my lack of social skills. He pulled me towards him and we stood there, just kissing. We never talked about what we were doing, or why we were doing it, or why it was wrong.

I suddenly knew I wanted Mark to make love to me, and I wanted it badly. It was wrong, and yet…I wanted it anyway.

“You know, sometimes I just have fantasies of just walking along the beach with you. It would be romantic and I know you would love it. Yet somehow I know if we were left alone together for too long, we’d just end up going crazy on each other,” he said in all seriousness.

I stood there digesting Mark’s words for a moment, he’d once again felt my thoughts. The physical attraction between us was getting to be as strong as the emotional one. I decided that now was not the time to mention that I was still a virgin. Scott and I had gone pretty far, but never quite all the way, and of course, I’d had no relationships since then.

He wrapped his arms around me and began to kiss me again. My heart began to pound as I drew him near me too. I wanted him to be close to me, I wanted to feel him in every way. This feeling encompassed me and I can’t say I was surprised when his hands went to the front of my dress and began unbuttoning (as the buttons were in the front of the dress). Lost in passion, I forgot where we were for a moment as I felt a hand sliding inside my dress and brushing against my breast. I felt my nipple start to harden.

A passing car on the nearby road reminded me of where I was, and inside my head I screamed “No!” very loudly. It was like he heard me, because he yanked back suddenly. It took a moment before I realized we were both breathing very heavily. I commented that as it was 2 A.M., we should probably go home. He couldn’t argue with me, and he seemed a bit shaken by what had just happened. So we went our separate ways without another word to each other.

We had exchanged phone numbers, and now we sometimes talked at night on the phone. It was so odd, we would joke about things. We joked that we should introduce his dad to my mom, and they could drive each other crazy instead of driving us crazy. We talked about his engineering classes. He shared with me the time he’d been involved in a robbery. Someone had robbed his place of work at gun point, and the experience still haunted him to this day. I had noticed he tended to get nervous around closing time at Wal*Mart, maybe this explained why.

It was Tuesday night, and I was off of work. I was home, pondering calling Mark, but thinking it was best if I didn’t. At some point I HAD to start putting distance between us. I longed to do normal things with him, go to dinner with him, see a movie with him. Do things any couple would do. But we were not a couple, he was engaged and the feelings he had for me were not real. I wanted them to be real, and the more I wanted that, the more real they seemed. His love for Chris was real, and the best thing I could do was walk away from the situation. Still, I didn’t walk away, and I continued to live in this fantasy world where things could happen and we’d get a “happily ever after.”

I stared at the phone, and resolved to walk away from it before I picked it up to call him. As if on cue it rang. It was him, it had to be him, and I felt it was him. I wasn’t disappointed. He said since he was off too he thought it would be nice to go to dinner and a movie. I told myself to say no, while my mouth said, “I’d love to.”

Determined not to be too obvious, I put on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I was relieved that he was dressed similarly when he came to pick me up. We went to TGI Friday’s. We were sitting facing each other, and I realized he was wearing a necklace. I’d never seen him wearing a necklace, so I admit I was a bit interested. I was too shy to ask him though.

He saw me looking at it so he told me about it. It was an eagle hanging from a chain. Mark proceeded to tell me that he’d bought the eagle at some convention he’d attended, as he was a lover of birds. The eagle had a place for a chain, but he’d never gotten one for it. At some point a friend of his had given him a chain for the bird and it had become a symbol of their friendship. I thought this was a really nice story and I knew my smile told him so. I still thought it odd that he’d worn it tonight but then again, I only saw him at work and after work, so maybe he just didn’t like to wear it on the job.

Dinner came and we ate and made pleasant conversation. We gossiped about some of our fellow employees. We knew Monica was involved with one of the managers and wondered how many other people knew that too. We chatted about how two of the girls there were squabbling over another guy we worked with. It suddenly occurred to me, were Mark and I the topic of gossip, too? Did people suspect we might be involved? I was so anti-social as a rule that this sort of dynamic was foreign to me and the idea made me feel very uncomfortable.

“I wonder if anyone at work thinks you and I are involved,” said Mark. He must have heard me without realizing it. I was in the middle of taking a drink from my soda and I started to choke as it went down the wrong way. This was enough of a distraction that the topic was dropped.

When the check came and we were ready to leave for our movie, Mark paused for a moment. “Sheila, I wore this necklace tonight for a reason. I wanted to give it to you as a symbol of our friendship.” This choked me up so much that I couldn’t speak. He took it off and clasped it around my neck.

We went to the movie, an action flick. It was ok, though I’m much more one for romantic stories and comedies that make me laugh. At one point some bad guys in the movie raced into a business shouting, “Hit the floor!” When Mark almost jumped out of his seat, I grabbed his hand. I knew he was remembering the night his workplace was robbed.

He took me home and walked me to my front door. I wanted to ask him to come in, but knew I shouldn’t. He looked at me and I could see in his eyes, he wanted me to invite him in. I knew I couldn’t. He kissed me and I had no will to resist. Our tongues swirled together. He pinned me against my front door, almost falling into me in the process. My heart and mind were crying out for him as our hands started to roam. I began to feel aroused and wanting. I felt his hard sex pushing against me as he leaned harder into me. I should invite him in; I wanted him to sleep with me.

“I want you,” he moaned into my mouth.

I thought of how much I wanted him, and then I thought about Chris. He must have heard my thoughts, and yanked away from me suddenly. We looked at each other, as similar thoughts swirled through our minds.

“We’ll have quite a summer of memories,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, as I remember everything,” I told him.

“I’m counting on it,” he replied.

He had no idea how much of a curse he put on me with those words. My memory was another gift of mine. I could remember conversations with people from years ago, as though they happened yesterday. I could recall good and bad things that happened to me, and feel all the emotions that went with him. He didn’t know what he was wishing on me of course, but I almost wanted to cry when he said that.

I watched quietly as he drove out of sight, fingering the necklace around my neck. I knew I’d wear it every day now.

Mark and I were working a rare day shift, and he called me into the back room at one point, looking secretive. When he brought me in I knew why. He had a boom box and I realized immediately that he must have brought the song, just as he promised. He popped in a tape and started playing it. The song, which was called “Temper of Revenge,” had a long instrumental. At some point the instrumental part was playing the tune of the part of the song Mark had already taught me so I sang along.

“I’m impressed that you recognized the tune just from hearing me sing it,” he commented admiringly.

We were getting off at the same time and I decided I better get home quickly before he suggested we do something. Again I was too late; he caught me and invited me to his place. I’d never been to his place before, and my mouth went dry with nervousness. I knew I should say no and yet there I was, getting directions.

We sat on the floor of his living room and he began to take out some 45 records looking for a particular song. I flipped through the ones he laid down, and grinned over some of the titles.

“I love Sister Golden Hair and Operator,” I told him excitedly.

He continued to rifle through the records, his back to me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but knew what I should do was say I had to go.

Finding the record he was looking for he put on Have to Say I Love You by Jim Croce. I wondered if he was trying to tell me something, but I wasn’t about to ask.

When the song ended I opened my mouth to say I was leaving, but he turned around and kissed me. All protests left my lips. My mind was screaming out for his touch, and his hands began to undo the buttons at the top of my work shirt. I slipped my hand under his shirt, loving the feeling of his skin. I wanted this, I needed this, and I didn’t think I could stop it from happening.

He began to kiss softly down my neck and I felt goose bumps developing all over my arms and legs. I gasped in pleasure as he softly suckled at the skin on my neck. He slipped his hand under my shirt and ran soft fingers around my stomach and up my chest. I nipped at his earlobe, moaning softly, encouraging him to continue.

He slowly began to lead me to the bedroom, our lips continuing to explore each other. Mark slowly lowered his body down on me as I lowered myself on to his bed. I didn’t want to stop this, I didn’t care.

I pulled the clip out of my hair, so it wouldn’t crush into my head on the bed. As I moved my hand to put it on the nightstand I looked over and saw her. Chris’ picture was on his nightstand. As I looked at her smiling face, a wave of guilt washed over me. I then noticed Mark hesitating too. Our eyes met, and we knew we couldn’t go through with this.

He awkwardly stood up, and I did this same. We couldn’t even seem to look at each other, as I hurriedly pulled myself together. We mumbled goodbyes, and I got in my car and drove home.

The uncomfortable incident did nothing to change our relationship, though. We just pretended it hadn’t happened.

My last weekend before I went back to school, Mark said we should get together and he’d pick me up. He got there, and was wearing these sunglasses that were rather large and had mirrors on the outside of them. He must have noticed me eyeing them because he grinned and said, “My bugman glasses.” We laughed and got into his car.

Mark popped in a tape and “Part of the Plan” started playing by Dan Fogleberg. I sang along a little just to ease my jitters.

Love when you can

Cry when you have to...

Be who you must

That’s a part of the plan

Await your arrival

With simple survival

And one day we’ll all understand...

“I just love this song,” I said.

“I know,” he said. “Now, we are at a turning point and you must decide where we are going.” I felt panicked, what was he talking about? “Tell me which direction to drive in,” he told me.

I sighed in relief; I’d been reading more into his statement than was there. Which direction to choose…hmmmmm. In my head, I started thinking of a park I’d seen once and was thinking that was a good place to go. He hadn’t asked me where to go though, just a direction to turn. Knowing the park was to the left I said, “Left.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I know exactly where we’ll go.” We drove along and talked about how part of us didn’t really want to go back to school and the drudgery of classes. I noticed we were heading in the general direction of the park so I tried to take the park out of my mind, in case I was guiding him there without meaning to.

I can’t say I was surprised when we ended up at the park. It was a lovely summer day and a perfect time to be outside. He reached for my hand and I took it. He led me to a picnic table by the small lake that was there. We sat up on the table, and gazed out at the water.

“We’ll both be going back to school soon,” he noted. I acknowledged him with a nod. We sat together in comfortable silence, just enjoying each others’ presence. I fingered the necklace on my neck a bit and thought about that. No more “after work conversations” in the parking lot. More distance between us physically. It made me sad, but I knew in my heart it was for the best. Mark was getting married in less than a year, and it was time to put my romantic fantasies behind me.

He put his arms around me while we sat on the table, our feet on the bench. “You’re so cuddly,” he whispered as he kissed me softly. I melted into him and felt him melting into me.

I wanted to enjoy myself, I wanted to enjoy being with him, but I knew it was wrong. If I really cared about Mark, I’d just let him go.

“I know I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said. Then he kissed me again. “I just know that this all feels so right, and we are so connected.”

I laughed nervously and said, “Do you remember the dream you about us on a boat headed towards a rocky shore?”

He looked startled and admitted, “I’d completely forgotten about that.” I started thinking about how this might have been a premonition, and could see in his eyes that he was thinking my thoughts without realizing it. We just held each other for the afternoon with no more words. The day still lives in my memory.