The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I saw the problem coming from a mile away. My name is Simon Richland. Years ago, I took Japanese as a second language and moved to Japan to teach English. It (English) was, after all, a subject I know well, better than my Japanese anyway. The Japanese transliteration of my name (at least the way I pronounce it) would be Saimin, which means either a kind of noodles, or hypnosis, depending on how it’s written. Richland (with their way of swapping L for R and vice versa) would be a pain. So, on my way to Japan from America, I practiced writing “Saimin Sensei,” or “Hypnosis Teacher” in kanji.

Yes, I do know hypnosis. It’s kind of a party trick my friends like to see me play on new guests. My older brother, Marvin (or as some know him, The Mesmerizing Marvo) taught me. On my first day, I had a class of nine-year-olds—and no, this isn’t going to be one of THOSE stories. What no one had warned me about was the abject weirdness of Japanese schoolchildren. As they filed into the classroom, my ass was grabbed not less than four times by small but anonymous hands. I wondered what I had let myself in for. Nevertheless, as my brother always said, the show must go on. I was making the Japanese symbols for the name I wanted the students to know me by when alarm bells went off in the back of my head. You know, like that feeling you get when you think somebody’s watching you...only this feeling was telling me my ass was in trouble. I whirled out of the way just in time to avoid having a pair of nine-year-old fingers shoved in my ass crack.

I don’t know what possessed me in that moment, but before I knew it, I had put the boy under with one of my brother’s best speed-inductions. “The next time you try that,” I told him in Japanese, “you will be unable, and instead you will wet your pants.” The rest of the class giggled as I woke the boy up with a snap of my fingers and sent him back to his desk. As I finished writing, that sense came back, but was quickly followed by a trickling sound, followed by peals of laughter. The same boy from before was back, his two fingers poised to strike again, but instead he was staring in shock as his bladder emptied itself without his conscious bidding.

“Gomen nasai, sensei.“ he said, embarrassed. I had him clean up his mess with paper towels, then covered his face with my jacket and escorted him to the restroom to dry his pants under the blow dryer (after instructing another teacher to watch the students for me during the errand). The somewhat belated lesson began shortly thereafter—and of course, I was well and truly “Saimin Sensei” now. Every one of my students tried me at least once, perhaps more out of a desire to see what hypnosis felt like than any actual mischief. Several of the repeat offenders received trigger phrases. That first class, especially the female portion, was the most persistent. I ended up giving them all the suggestion that they would go under instantly when I said the English words “Saimin Says Sleep.” But I never took advantage. I’m not one of THOSE.

Fast-forward ten years. The Japanese diet, combined with being assigned to assist the PE teacher during some classes, had given me a better body, so even though I was in my thirties (and not the low thirties either), I was at the top of my physical game. It was my last class of the day, and I had the children translating passages from a Japanese fable when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something moving. Something female. She wore no uniform; as far as I could tell, all she had on was an oversized T-shirt belted in the middle, socks and shoes. I quietly approached as she stood smiling in the doorway. Before I even said a word, she hugged me, pressing her lean body against mine.

“Good afternoon, Saimin Sensei.” she cooed into the ear that the students couldn’t see, giving the lobe a playful lick. “Remember me?” I almost didn’t. She’d matured so much since I’d taught her, but the wicked glint in her eyes, the one she had once used when she was about to do something naughty, daring me to trance her again...

“Miko?” I asked. She smiled.

“I wanted to see you again, now that I’m old enough...” she said, but was interrupted by a chorus of wolf whistles, cat-calls and other assorted come-ons. I extricated myself from Miko’s embrace and strode to the front-and-center position.

“Saimin Says Sleep.” I said. The students’ heads slumped forward in unison. “You must treat your elders with respect.” I told them. I would have gone on, but I noticed Miko still standing in the door, her head slumped to her chest just like the class. Looking at her, her beautiful face even more beautiful in repose...I was surprised the old trigger still worked after all this time. I held up her chin to look at her for a minute. Then, I leaned close and whispered in her ear. “When I touch your forehead, you will open your eyes, but remain asleep. You will behave as though you were not in a trance, but you will continue to do whatever I tell you. You will pay no attention to the things I say to the class. Do you understand?”

“Hai, wakarimasu.“ she said (which meant, “Yes, I understand”). I touched her forehead, and her eyes opened. “Go sit over there.” I told her, and she obeyed. I continued with my manners lesson for the class, making sure to address each statement to them. Then, I brought the class out of their trance, and resumed the English lesson. The bell rang, and the children filed out. “Walk with me.” I told Miko.

“Hai.“ she said softly, standing up and approaching.

“You should speak English, Miko, to show that you have not forgotten my lessons.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” she responded. I gathered my things and walked out of the classroom. She followed like a puppy. I led her to a conference room where I could be reasonably sure of being able to talk with her without interruption.

“Close the door, Miko.” I said.

“Yes.” she said softly, and closed it.

“Now, lock it.” I said. She obeyed without complaint. I noticed her nipples making themselves known beneath her shirt. I moved closer to her and inhaled the scent of her arousal. “What are you wearing, Miko?” I asked her softly.

“A shirt, a belt, shoes and socks.” she said. She gave a little squeak and a shiver. I’d had a couple of girlfriends during my time in Japan, and usually they made that kind of noise when they were VERY excited.

“Nothing else?”

“No.” she admitted.

“Show me.” I said. She unbuckled the belt and let it fall to the floor, then pulled off the shirt to unveil her bare chest and pelvis. She was bending down to remove the shoes when I said “Stop, that’s enough. Now straighten up.” She stood up straight, almost at attention. “Why did you dress this way, Miko?”

“I...I wanted...you to play...with me.” she said.

“Do you mean play in a sexual way?” I asked softly, whispering in her ear.

“Yesssss!” she moaned, shivering with desire.

“Saimin Says Sleep.” I told her. Instead of merely slumping forward as usual, she went completely limp, and only my closeness and quick action stopped her from falling to the floor. “Deeper, Miko, deeper, relax more deeply with every breath you take. You cannot lie to me, you cannot disobey.”

“Y..yessss...” she moaned, her hips twitching just enough for me to be able to perceive it.

“Does being in trance make you aroused, Miko?” I asked.

“Yesss.” she said, twitching again.

“Why?”

“Help...less...o...bey...” she said, half gasping. “Want...to be helpless...to obey-y-y.”

“To have no choice but to obey.” I said. She gasped and shivered, and juices dribbled down her legs and dripped onto the floor as her hips thrust against an invisible lover.

“Yeeeesssssss!” she said, half moan, half hiss.

“Did you just have an orgasm?” I asked.

“Yes.” she admitted, panting.

“You want to be controlled.” I said. “You want it so much you can cum without touching yourself, just by thinking about it.”

“Yesss!” she said a little more loudly than I would have liked.

“Stand up, Miko.” I told her. She managed, weakly, to get to her feet, wobbling a little, but standing nonetheless. “Open your eyes and look at me, Miko.” I told her. She obeyed. “You have no voice until I tell you otherwise. Completely mute, unable to utter a sound. Nod if you understand and will obey.” She nodded. “When I tell you to cum, you will have an orgasm, so powerful you can barely keep your feet. Cum, now.” Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. Her hips humped the air as the pleasure continued. She tried to stay on her feet, but was beginning to fail. “That’s enough.” I told her. I ran my fingers up and down her shaven slit. “Did you do this for me?” I asked. She shivered and nodded her head. “Close your eyes, you are deep asleep. You have a voice again and can answer my questions normally.”

“Yes, I understand.” she said, eyes closed.

“Do you want more?” I asked her.

“Yes, very much.” she said, grinding her hips with desire.

“Now is not the time, and this is not the place. Two days from now, you will meet me in the park after school. You will sit on the bench beside the pond and wait patiently. Until then, you will not remember this encounter, or my instructions. You will not remember why you are there until I place you in trance once more. You will not visit me during class again until I command it. You will fantasize about what you would want me to do to your body and mind at night, while you bring yourself pleasure with your fingers. You will shave again before you go to the park. Do you still have your old high school uniform?”

“Yes.” she responded.

“Good, wear it when you go to the park to meet me.” I told her, and kissed her on the lips. “Now, open your eyes and put your shirt and belt back on.” She obeyed. “When I close the door behind me, you will wake, putting aside your memories of these events until the appointed time when you will be allowed to remember. You will clean up the mess on your legs and on the floor, and leave as if nothing had happened. You will not concern yourself with the missing time, or why your legs are sticky. Cum if you will obey.”

She had another gasping climax. I had to cover her mouth with mine to keep her from making too much noise. Regretfully, I disengaged from her, and walked out, closing the door behind me. I watched from concealment as she left, her expression telling me she wasn’t really sure why she was in the conference room to begin with. This would be interesting.

Two days later was the students’ elementary-school graduation. I’ve never been very good at farewells, and the graduation ceremonies were no exception. Soon, they would be going to the intermediate schools—there were several in the city, almost as many of them as there were elementaries. I would probably never see most of them again, unless I was transferred to another grade as well. It was looking like another day of sad goodbyes, until I crossed the doors on my way out, and headed to the park. Miko looked good in her uniform. She smiled as I approached, got up and hugged me.

“Saimin Sensei! I haven’t seen you in a long time!” she said.

“Really?” I asked. “Seems like only days since you came to my class.” I couldn’t resist. “Answer me something, Miko; did you enjoy being hypnotized by me?”

“Yes, actually.” she responded, blushing. “Very much. It...felt very good. I think about it often.”

“Do you remember what I used to say when I had to put the whole class into trance at once?”

“Uh...”

“Saimin Says Sleep.” I said. Her head slumped forward, and she was out. “Do you remember now what we talked about in the conference room?”

“Yes.” she said, her hips twitching again.

“Do you still want it?”

“Yes, very much.” she replied. I put my arms around her nineteen-year-old body, and guided her deeper into trance. She went limp in my arms, like a puppet with her strings cut.

“You’re such a good subject, Miko, so suggestible, so willing, and so beautiful as well. You’re very beautiful, Miko. Has anyone else ever hypnotized you?”

“No, Sensei.” she responded sleepily.

“Stand, Miko.” I said. She obeyed, wobbling again. “Open your eyes, but remain asleep.” I said. Her beautiful, dark eyes opened again. “You want me to control you? To make you mine? To find pleasure in your sweet, willing body?”

“Yesss.” she moaned.

“Then say it. Say that you are under my control. Say that you are mine. Say that your body is mine to do with as I please. Repeat these things over and over, cementing them in your mind, making them as much a part of you as your name. When you have done that, you may have an orgasm.”

“I am under your control. I am yours. My body is yours to do with as you please.” she said, hips twitching in desire. In all, she said it twenty-three times before she had an orgasm. I had to catch her to keep her from falling and banging her knees. I looked around to make sure no one was looking, and put her back on her wobbly feet.

“Show me your panties.” I told her. She obeyed, lifting the front of her skirt. They were soaked through. “Your body is ten times more sensitive to pleasure, Miko.” I said, and touched her through the soaked material, my fingers caressing her labia until she climaxed again, her feminine fluids leaking down her legs like a wanton slut. “Lower your skirt and follow me.” She walked with me back to my apartment. The wind softly wafted the scent of her arousal over me as we walked. It was a short climb up the stairs to my place. I ushered her inside and closed the door behind us.

She stood there waiting for my next instructions. I caressed her placid face, her tight nineteen-year-old body, and, through her panties, her sensitive, engorged labia. “Say those things again, and each time you finish, remove an item of clothing. You will feel your desire build higher and higher with each item removed, but you will await my command before you act on them.”

“I am under your control. I am yours. My body is yours to do with as you please.” she said, and removed her neckerchief. “I am under your control. I am yours. My body is yours to do with as you please.” This time she removed her shirt. “I am under your control. I am yours. My body is yours to do with as you please.” Her skirt came next. Then came her left shoe, then her right, followed by the socks in that order. She was panting, and her skin had an almost all-over blush by the time her bra hit the floor. She took off her panties last, her juices flowing like a river.

“Freeze. You cannot move, you cannot speak. You will stay in whatever pose I place you.” I walked around her immobilized form, taking in all of her charms. It was hard to believe I used to teach this ripe young peach. She really had used her time well, maturing into a prime example of nubile womanflesh. I moved her arms experimentally. As instructed, she remained as I posed her. I straightened her arms out to her sides like someone playing “airplane,” and widened her stance so her feet were a little more than shoulder-width apart. I inhaled the scent of her drooling sex, catching a whiff of shaving cream along with the scent of her. Her slit was smooth-shaven. Her breath caught as I ran my tongue up her flower’s petals, ending with a flick against her clit. She was delicious, and I licked her with a fervor I hadn’t felt in some time. Twice she exploded into bliss, coating the lower half of my face with her juice. I rose up and kissed her, making sure she got a taste of herself. I moved her hands behind her back. “Your arms are handcuffed behind you, and your feet are stuck to the floor.” I told her. “Except for that, you may move, and speak.” Miko wiggled some, testing her imaginary bonds, then looked at me with desire. I moved one of the easy chairs so its arm was directly in front of her, and bent her over it. She watched me undress with undisguised lust.

“Yes! Yes, please!” she begged as my boxers, the last of my clothing, hit the floor. I slid my turgid erection inside her. She came, hard. She was lost in a raging sea of pleasure as my cock drilled into her. I lost count of how many orgasms she had after twenty-five. Pleas and entreaties gave way to mindless animal grunts as the fucking continued. I went off inside her, pumping my seed deep into her womb before at last I relented. She lay there trying to catch her breath and gather her scattered wits. She caught the scent of my cock as it came within reach of her face. Covered with our mixed secretions and still half-erect, it seemed to work better than smelling salts for her. Her eyes locked on it, and she slurped it into her mouth, suckling me until I was hard again.

“Saimin Says Sleep.” I said, and she was out again, going limp except for her arms and legs. “Your hands and feet are no longer bound.” The rest of her relaxed as well. I picked up her slight form and carried her to the bedroom. I caressed her for a moment, admiring her body with eyes and hands. “In a moment, I’m going to wake you up, Miko. Everything will be back to normal, and you will remember whatever you want.” I snapped my fingers, and her eyes opened. She smiled at me, the kind of smile that a woman only gives you to let you know you’re the best fuck she’s ever had. I reached down and caressed her face. She pulled me into bed with her.

“Thank you.” she said, cuddling with me. “I have wanted this...for a long time. Now I don’t want it to end.”

I smiled, and kissed her. She kissed me back, and though we both were too exhausted for much, I think we each got the message.

It was five years later that I disembarked from a Boeing 777 at DFW airport. No longer content with annual pilgrimages home to get my fix (there’s something to be said about the pleasure of sinking your teeth into a thick, juicy piece of steak) and see my nieces and nephews, and since several of my original students were now teaching English themselves (and more than a few were studying to become hypnotists), I had decided it was time to begin a new phase in my life. Marvin was picking me up, and had brought his kids from all seven of his marriages with him. Currently he was single, employing nannies to help with the youngest ones—although my intelligence had it that he was hypnotizing all three of them into his bed, with fantasies of ideal husbands and all the usual tricks. The younglings helped me with my bags, but one suitcase I kept for myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. It was just that this bag had been out of my sight for too long on the flight over, and its contents were too precious to me to relinquish it now.

After fifteen years of teaching English as a second language in Japan, I’d amassed quite a collection of going-away presents from graduating students. Along with the usual stick-figure drawings in crayon, origami lotuses and so forth, were presents from at least one student each year in recognition of my unique teaching style, such as the quartzite pendant on a gold-plated chain given to me by my first class, the metronome given to me by my tenth, and most recently a pocketwatch from my last, as well as all the gifts in between. One that all subsequent classes got a kick out of was the one given to me by my fourth year class, a handheld pocket fan, with the blades removed and replaced with a spinning spiral hypnodisk. This was no suitcase, it was a treasure chest.

My brother made small talk over the noise of the kids in the back as we made our way to the place I would be calling home. Finally, we arrived at a two-story red brick home outside Corsicana, TX. Cozy place, five-acre lot, storm cellar, garage, privacy fence, and no homeowners’ association. The best feature, however, was yet to come. With my luggage on the porch, I rang the doorbell, which was answered by a twenty-four year old Japanese beauty in a dress made out of Christmas paper.

“Ohayo, Miko-chan.“ I said, kissing her lovingly.

“Hi yourself, sexy.” Miko said saucily, putting the luggage in a corner. She kicked the door closed and pulled me against her, giving me a kiss that was full of three months of pent-up sexual energy waiting to be released—she’d come to America ahead of me after accepting a teaching position at Corsicana High School. Her wedding ring pressed against the back of my neck as she pressed herself against me. “Come on, it’s been way too long. You’re not doing anything else until we’ve played Saimin Says.”

I laughed heartily, picked up my lovely wife, and carried her upstairs, more than happy to oblige. She wasn’t the only one who’d gone without for three months, after all.