The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Quarantine was dragging on, we were already in week 4 and I was getting a little stir crazy. I had already rearranged all my canned goods in alpha order; my sock drawer was stellar as was the underwear drawer. I had just finished detailing my vintage caddy using an old tooth brush, vinegar and baking soda, when I found out a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in several months was sewing ‘custom masks’, and I had happened to have a huge box of unused material sitting around doing nothing… We texted each other and I finally decided to take a ‘necessary’ trip to all the way to Santa Monica and drop off the supplies since: ‘we were all in this together’ during ‘these troubled times’ etc. etc.

After I got that last text, I truly was excited. Any chance to gaze upon Melissa, hopefully in scanty summer wear, to see those legs, her fit body, her beautiful face in person, was exciting. She was a super attractive lady friend who had never gotten beyond friends with me, but we still flirted ever so subtly and enjoyed each other’s company.

Plus, I hadn’t fired up my old caddy in weeks, and I was concerned that the battery might go dead. Since it was so spanking clean now, this was the chance. Gas was certainly cheap enough, so I put on my black elbow length chemical resistant work gloves, my Hobart 50mm welding goggles, and my Leeko Anti-dust Spray Chemical Gas Dual Cartridge Respirator Mask. With a pair of beige khakis and my ‘Bowl Movements black, red and grey bowling shirt, I was ready. Then I dropped the top and got on my way.

Sure the painting mask with dual filtration was overkill, but the way that I dress lends itself to a steam punk ethic anyway. Add to that my penchant for 80’s and 90 metal, and classic rock and I felt great! The first song that came on the radio was Judas Priest, Breaking the Law and the other sounds of the local rock station made the drive even nicer for me. Just as Hotel California ended, I pulled up to the curb.

I preferred using their driveway, but an unfamiliar, beat up old Kia Retona with faded paint, was in the driveway, covered in dust and bird poop.

I removed the mask, goggles and gloves, and grabbed the box from the back seat.

I had the large box in hand as I walked up to the metal screen door and I banged with my foot. I could barely see the silhouette of my friend through the mesh of the metal security door, and even then, I saw only the back of her head. It looked like she was sitting facing her back porch, staring out the window. The sunshine from the porch made the other person sitting at the table across from her an unidentifiable silhouette as well. “That doesn’t look like 6ft distance” I quipped, laughing to myself. Then I knocked.

The person at the table laughed and she said: “It’s unlocked, come on in, just close the door.” I was frankly parched, as the heat was really bugging me. So I put down the box of fabrics, opened the door, picked up the box again and entered. I then closed the door behind me.

“Funny” I thought, “my FB friend hadn’t even said a word yet, that’s very unlike her”.

I then walked over and I placed the huge box onto the sturdy coffee table, as I peered thru the glare and I could finally see.

It appeared that a young woman in her early 20’s sat at the table, across from my FB friend, (and friend in real life for over a decade) but the young woman did all the talking.

My beautiful FB friend, Melissa and I were stuck at the ‘friend level, which of course I accepted but…I wanted more’.

The young woman sitting across from Melissa at the small square table, was pretty average looking, she was someone you might not look at twice if you crossed each other on the street. Don’t misunderstand me: She wasn’t unattractive, but she was just, well…kind of plain and simply just there.

She had average hair, an average face, and was at average weight. It didn’t look like she worked out, as she was in average shape. Use you own vivid imagination to visualize her race, etc. But she was basic. She wore cut off Shorts, an old striped cap sleeve t-shirt (close to sleeveless), and Birkenstock Papillios with a leopard print.

Whatever your mind tells you is a: ‘dime a dozen female college student’ in their early 20’s, well, that was her, personified. She never even said her name to me.

My FB friend Melissa, however: man, she was a ‘looker, a hottie, a former mannequin model’ who had finished her advanced degree and now taught’.

She was rather fit, she had a pretty face, great flowing brunette hair, and bright sparkling eyes. She was now an instructor at a local University, teaching a hands-on history of ceramics class part time, and she had also been working for some firm downtown, doing customer business support. She was in her mid 30’s, had just gotten into weight training about 2 years ago, and she had achieved great results.

She looked really fit and strong the last time I saw her 2 months ago.

She wasn’t competing, but she got accolades for the great shape she was in, nonetheless.

So, as chatty and funny, and gregarious as my friend usually was, regaling hilarious stories of student foibles, difficult clients, people she met at the gym, etc. It was weird that she was silent for so long.

I was now doubly curious as to why I hadn’t even been acknowledged, after cruising all the way up from the ass end of the South Bay to drop off a large box of various fabrics. I mean, it’s 89 degrees outside, how about a beer? Maybe open the door? I thought to myself. I had heard about the six-foot rule, no stop..so I wasn’t expecting my usual hug hello, but seriously?

I piped up: ‘Mind if I grab a beer from the fridge?’

The young woman responded, almost annoyed: “ Um yeah, Yeah go ahead, there’s IPA, but those are for me, and some super dark beer from Trader Joes, that nobody here likes.”

“Nice”, I said aloud. “She keeps a sixer of Oatmeal Stout for me when I visit” I said, causally, laughing, those… are for me”.

I grabbed a cold beer, popped it open and then had a refreshing gulp. It was so cold, so dark, so oatmeal delicious. In a world of light beer drinkers, I was the odd man out. Oatmeal stout was like drinking a meal, for all intents and purposes.

I then noticed Melissa, my lovely long time FB friend, still hadn’t said anything, but I sat down on the couch at the other side of the room, anyway to calmly enjoy my beer.

As I raised the bottle to my lips for another slug, I then saw the oddest thing.

I witnessed the young woman wave a hand in front of Melissa’s face in an upward motion, and then young woman spoke to her, kind of.. flatly.

Young woman: “You have a visitor, go to your spot and then just say ‘hello.’

Then, my friend then immediately stood up from sitting, and without even looking at me, or saying a word, she took two deliberate steps toward the woman, and then she immediately knelt right next to her, both of her arms limp at her sides, facing the same direction the woman faced now, and then she slowly turned partly toward my general direction, and through a rather blank stare, without making any eye contact, just said softly: “hello.”

Then the young woman immediately waved her hand in front of Melissa’s face, but now in a downward motion this time, and Melissa was suddenly silent, staring ahead at nothing, she was completely motionless.

That was weird I thought. Was this a gag? But then it got even weirder.

The young woman then grabbed a cheetos flamin’ hot from a bowl on the table and ate one. Then she looked at me, almost knowingly, and she said. “These are really good, but sometimes… I share” and then she grabbed a second one, and sucked on it for a minute and then she pulled the rather soggy cheeto from her mouth, with a trail of spittle attached to it.

I couldn’t believe my eyes as she then brought the sloppy cheeto toward Melissa’s face.

Then the woman simply touched Melissa’s nose with a finger from that hand and Melissa opened her mouth and allowed the woman to stick the sloppy cheeto right in. It was only when the woman touched her nose again Melissa closed her mouth and then chewed, then swallowed the cheeto, displaying zero emotion.

The woman giggled. She moved all the cheetos in the bowl around with her index finger, then she touched Melissa’s nose again, leaving an orange dot. Then when Melissa opened her mouth, the woman stuck her rather orange index finger, fully covered in cheeto dust right Into Melissa’s mouth, then simply said ‘Clean it”. Melissa then sucked the orange finger, showing zero emotion but then stopped the second it was pulled out, returning to stillness.

The woman then wiped her hand off on Melissa’s hair, slicking it back, and then she turned and looked directly at me with braggadocio. She smiled and then waved her hand in front of Melissa’s face in a down ward motion yet again. Melissa’s expression seemed even more distant somehow.

The young woman must have seen that I was transfixed by the spectacle, and had enough intuition to know I wouldn’t interrupt it, and I wouldn’t freak out.

She finally said to me, while leaning back in the Paloma woven rush seat redwood chair and crossing her legs casually, in an ankle cross: ‘So right before this like quarantine BS, I took her class as like an elective, thinking, easy credit, since I am a psych major right, and it would be totes easy, right?

I mean, it’s a history of Ceramics, a hands-on experience… super easy and it was so boring! Yay, let’s make clay pots, and look at old clay pots from olden times. So to ease my boredom, I started paying more attention instead, to her mannerisms, her speech patterns, her body language, noticing how suggestible she seemed, and then I thought. Let’s see how suggestible she truly was.

I immediately began running some NLP on her, you know, modeling her behavior, speech style, tone and vocabulary, her mannerisms, etc.

Pretty quickly, She was getting her more and more comfortable with me, acting like we were ‘old friends’ chatting with me after class… and I even got her into a light trance just a couple times.

Sure, that was pretty easy, but it was only for a minute or two… at first. Still I liked it, I really liked it. So then I did simple stuff, like: ‘plant a trigger to go deeper on a cue from me. for a minute or two longer, then to wipe the white board if I used a certain word in a question, or to make her drink water at a certain cue. She took a sip from what she was drinking, which was that seltzer water the kids all drink, my idea. Planting the idea she was miss her mouth and spill a little, getting embarrassed was funny too. It was getting me excited. If I openly asked if the classroom was hot, she would perspire. When I asked why it was so cold, her nipples got hard and her legs got goose bumps. Nobody else even noticed. ”

She continued: “Then I was using this ‘text to seduce method’ I found online, to see if I could really get her to mention random things that I had texted to her before class, to like see if she would talk about subjects totally out of left field, and… she did!

She would be discussing what was relevant to class, some ancient method of using color, and then bring up odd off topic items, just like I planted, and then she’d return to subject. She had no suspicions. Again, nobody in class noticed.

To her, I was just this ‘super engaged student’, really into her class. I had the first 8 weeks of class to slowly increase the duration and depth of her trances, little by little. By the time the Covin-19 fiasco first broke the news, I had her in deep trances for up to 15 minutes alone after class, as I layered several post hypnotic suggestions, things to do automatically without thinking when she saw me or heard my voice, like sweaty hands, or acting inexplicably awkward around me. I even planted a few dreams for when she slept at night.”

The woman then ate more cheetos by herself while Melissa remained perfectly still kneeling next to her, silently.

The young woman looked at me knowingly, “I know you are excited by this already” then she laughed.

She continued: “Then I planted the ‘invite me to come over and discuss my grades.’ I did that the night before the lockdown. And then, right on time as I had specified… she sent me the text to ‘use discretion, as students can’t visit instructors at home, but I am making an exception for my star pupil.’

I knew that I had gotten her to do this, to intentionally break the rules.

So hopped in my trusty old Retona and I got here with a big weekend travel bag of my clothes and shoes, and stuff, thinking it would be a fun little weekend trip, then I could make her forget it ever happened, and head back home Sunday, and she’d have no clue on Monday. Then out of nowhere-the fucking lockdown.

She of course was freaked out and was getting anxiety from watching the news. She thought she found some old ‘xanex’, which turned out to actually be Zoloft, in 100mg tabs, left in her medicine cabinet from an old roommate. They kinda made her a little ‘spacey’ but it helped her mood. Seeing she was ½ way there, I of course, suggested a series of ‘relaxing topics’ to help calm her down from the news even further, then we stopped the news watching completely.

Once I actually got her into that ‘true deepest trance’ for the 1st time you know, ‘sticking a hat pin in her arm and she doesn’t flinch’, it was just a matter of deepening that further, building upon that, and making it faster and easier for me to get her completely under with a super simple trigger. Of course I forbade her from drinking alcohol with the pills.

And… since I was stuck here, I continually planted a shitload of triggers and post hypnotic suggestions, so I could get her to perform certain actions super easy. That weekend it was just giving me foot-rubs, and making me breakfast, and painting my toenails.

Now I’ve had almost 40 days to refine, retune, add responses to triggers, automatic answers to questions etc. I had so much fun and I did stuff that you really only see in movies!’ She said.

The young woman was pretty impressed with herself, and I guess the isolation had been getting to her; because she apparently wanted an audience that would appreciate it, as she was rambling incessantly. I just listened. I was certainly fascinated, as this idea was fricken hot. I was frankly so aroused I was dizzy.

I said so; “This is amazing, and frankly so hot… so please, tell me more, no judgment, no worries, this is right out of an erotic story website that I love, and now I need to see how far you went.”

The young woman laughed.

She spoke to me: “Of course you do, I mean, she told me all about you and your little kinks, after I looked you up on FB. So I totally knew you’d appreciate these too:”

She smiled then stuck her legs out in front of her, showing me the unmistakable underside of her leopard print Birkenstocks, at the end of her short tan legs.

I wasn’t aware Melissa even knew about my little foot fetish (not so little) but I suspected she might, ever since that time Melissa had casually placed her perfect size 6.5 bare feet onto the coffee table while we chatted, and she had regaled a story to me while she was barefoot, then she caught me glancing at them a couple seconds too long, she promptly removed her feet then and she quickly tucked them underneath the table. She never said a word, but I had suspected she knew, ever since then.

“Oh wow” I said, “so you… know about that….” I trailed off.

The young woman smiled at me wickedly “Go ahead, you can take them off for me, see how cute my feet are, go ahead!” Then she giggled.

I could have been embarrassed… but before quarantine, giving strange women foot-rubs was no big deal, it was my ‘thing’. It was always a great opener on first dates, and bridesmaids always welcomed one, as did one night stands, etc. I almost never met a woman who didn’t appreciate getting a foot rub. The one time I did I walked away.

Of course I quickly finished my beer, and then went right over, breaking the dreaded 6ft rule, then I happily removed the young woman’s Birkenstocks. She really did have really nice feet, and apparently she had owned those Birkenstocks for some time, judging by the dark footprint.

I honestly… found that hot. Her feet didn’t smell ‘bad’ but you know they had that ‘standard scent’ a fetishist would like, from clean feet being in Birkenstocks without being ‘offensive.’ The mix of quality leather and female pheromones immediately aroused me.

She then said:

“Oh come on, don’t be shy, go ahead, get closer, check em’ out, they don’t smell bad..” but I really didn’t want to fully reveal my kink, so I did a halfhearted sniff, and I said something to the effect of “You’re right, you sure do have cute feet, and the silver polish is great, what are you, a size 8, maybe 8.5?”

The young woman laughed, “Oh my god, exactly, but you didn’t have to hold back, she never does…. watch this!”

I was shocked to say the least. I never imagined Melissa showing any interest in another woman’s feet, (except in my own perverted fantasies) cause that just wasn’t her, but I’m a guy, that’s what we do. I

The young woman then stuck a foot back into one of her Birkenstocks, and then bent her leg up close enough, so she could easily grab it right off her own foot.

She then touched Melissa on the nose with an index finger and then she said: “Look you silly girl, stinky linky”, and then she just held the insole of that Birkenstock right up to the 30 something college instructor’s face, pressing it rather tight.

Suddenly, Melissa blinked and then she inhaled deeply, she suddenly smiled widely, and she then she quickly grabbed the sandal with both of her hands, and then she spoke, using an air-headed pubescent sounding voice, which was totally out of character… Melissa said:

“Stinky Linky, yippee!” as Melissa kept intensely sniffing the sandal, pressing her nose right into the insole.

The woman then said: “Now… go for the real thing, you know you want to, ‘silly girl” Melissa looked up at the young woman with what seemed like adoration, as if she wanted permission and approval. She walked on her knees from kneeling next to her, to positioned right at her feet.

Melissa then grabbed the young woman’s tan sturdy ankles and she lifted her feet so she could shove her face right into her soles, sniffing hard right at the base of the 20 something’s polished toes. Melissa moaned and she sniffed the arches as well, and then she looked up at the young woman with a look the young woman knew.

The younger woman then said to her: “Oh.. ok but you will have to do other things for me later silly girl, if I let you do that now…” Melissa then chirped: “Yipee! Num Num Num!” and then she began to lavishly lick the young woman’s feet with abandon. Melissa licked and sucked on the young woman’s feet, like she had been waiting forever to be allowed to do this. She popped toes into her mouth, singly and several at a time, and made sounds like they were yummy.

I was flabbergasted. It was so hot, seeing Melissa so gleefully lick the younger woman’s fragrant feet, behaving like a silly, kinky pubescent. It was fully out of character.

After Melissa had fully licked the soles of the young woman’s feet, Melissa then, suddenly and stiffly slapped her hands onto her knees, and then straightened her back while staring at the woman’s wet soles, and then she returned to being motionless.

The young woman then looked at me: she said: “Check this out” First she waved her hand and Melissa remained still. She then touched Melissa’s nose with her big toe and then she simply said: “Quaren-clean Now”

Without changing her blank expression, Melissa immediately stood up with perfect posture, and then she slowly and deliberately walked directly over to the kitchen counter. She methodically grabbed a towel from a drawer and a purel bottle with a pump from the counter. She then immediately returned to kneeling and then she thoroughly wiped the young woman’s feet with purel, then she thoroughly dried them and she carefully placed the Birkenstocks right back onto them.

Just as Melissa was placing the sandals onto the young woman’s feet, the woman said: “Now—why don’t you go get changed from your yoga pants and sweatshirt, into your ‘stay at home’ outfit for me…and then return immediately.”

Melissa then quickly stood up, and with a blank expression she walked quietly toward her bedroom at the far side of the small home.

Once Melissa left, the young woman then spoke to me:

‘Awesome right? I didn’t waste my quarantine time. I made sure of that.

End part 1-to be continued.