The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“It’s finished, Rob,” Thomasina Smith exclaimed. “My latest invention.” She held up something that looked like a heavy-duty flashlight with a few odd controls along its sides.

“Gosh, Tommie,” the tall, handsome young man facing her said. “What is it?” He wore a faintly puzzled look. Obviously, what the pretty blonde was holding didn’t look like anything special to him.

“Here,” the girl said, “let me show you.” She raised her free hand to slightly adjust the dark sunglasses she had on, held up the “flashlight” and thumbed one of the switches along its side.

A bright, throbbing light shot out of the object’s lens into Rob’s eyes. The rhythm of the pulse seemed to shift, as if searching for the correct setting. After three or four seconds, a tiny light on the “flashlight’s” casing turned green and the rhythm of the beam from the lens steadied.

Rob Jones hardly noticed these details. All he saw was the pulsating pattern of light which filled his eyes and seemed to pull him forward, deeper and deeper into its dazzling depths. It poured past his eyes into his brain, washing through his thoughts, submerging them. It was beautiful. . . .

Thomasina smiled and thumbed the switch to shut off her invention. Just as she’d expected, it had worked!

In front of her, Rob swayed gently on his feet. His arms hung limply at his sides, and his eyes were wide open but blank. Very obviously, he was out of it.

The young inventor’s smile widened. Poor Rob! He’d had no idea she was going to use him as a guinea pig to test out her latest creation, a device to instantly induce hypnotic trances.

She’d gotten interested in hypnosis recently, after reading some articles about it on line. It wasn’t just a stage act: it had all kinds of uses, from suppressing pain to recovering lost memories.

And then, she thought to herself, feeling deliciously wicked, there’s the really fun stuff.

Convention had it that one couldn’t really hypnotize someone into doing anything against their “basic moral code,” whatever that was. But from what she’d read, it ought to be possible to get someone to do just about anything, if you worked at it right. Hypnotized, people lacked the reasoning power they possessed in a normal waking state. That meant that they could be persuaded to do and to believe things they’d normally reject. The farther whatever it was diverged from what they’d normally do or think, the more persuading one had to do, that was all. As long as one didn’t jolt them right out of trance, they’d eventually give in.

And what she had in mind for Rob wasn’t something he really, really didn’t want to do. Thomasina chuckled. No, indeed.

“Listen to me, Rob,” the sexy inventor commanded. “Listen, and do exactly as I say.”

“Yes, Tommie,” Rob replied in a dreamy voice.

“No, Rob,” Thomasina corrected sternly. “Don’t call me Tommie. You’re hypnotized right now, Robbie, and while you’re hypnotized, you’ll call me ‘mistress.’” She paused, and giggled. “No. You’ll call me ‘mistress baby.’ Do you understand, Rob?”

“Yes, mistress baby.” The words emerged in the same sleepy tone as before.

Thomasina laughed aloud. One of the more unsatisfying things about her relationship with Rob was that he never called her by any pet names. It was always just “Tommie.”

Of course, that wasn’t altogether his fault, she reflected. Her billionaire industrialist father and grandfather could be rather intimidating. They’d scared off every other guy she’d ever tried to hook up with, and Rob was obviously worried about ticking them off by going too far with her.

And he wasn’t the only one worried. Here she was, twenty-two years old, and she’d never even had sex yet! Dad and Mom were so old-fashioned about that stuff, and Grandfather was even worse—and Dad had the whole family compound wired, Big Brother style. It was supposed to be for security, but she knew he used it to check up on her too. It was really quite inhibiting.

Well, she had an answer to that. She’d finally managed to hack into the security monitors’ computer controls, and now, when she wanted, she could feed the system dummy video she’d prepared to make it look like nothing special was happening. It only worked for this office, and she couldn’t use it too often without Dad getting suspicious, but at least it gave her a little privacy.

And now she had an answer to Rob’s inhibitions as well as her own: her newest gadget, which in a moment of whimsy she’d nicknamed the “hypno-whammatron.” She looked at her bedazzled boyfriend and laughed again. It was time to really get going.

“Rob, you want me,” she informed her hypnotized companion. “You want sex with me desperately, don’t you.”

“Yes, mistress baby,” came the response, a moan this time rather than a mumble. Tommie smiled broadly as she saw the growing bulge in Rob’s pants which proved the truth of his words.

“Then take me, right now,” she ordered. “Do it, Rob honey!” After a moment, she added, “Do it—but keep on doing anything I tell you to do, too, honey, because you’re still hypnotized, aren’t you. And besides, you love me, and you want to make me happy, don’t you, Rob honey?”

“Yes, mistress baby,” Rob answered. He lumbered to her and raised his hands, fumbling at her clothes. Giggling, she went to work on his.

Surprisingly soon, the pair of them were naked. Tommie felt deliciously naughty. If Daddy could see me now, she thought, he’d have a stroke! But of course he couldn’t; she’d started up her fake video feed before hypnotizing Rob. As far as the security cameras were concerned, she was in here doing paperwork. In a way, she had them hypnotized too. Nobody would have a clue what went on here today—not even Rob, once she was done with him!

“Grigori, look at this!” The excited voice drew the attention of a beefy man with flat Slavic features toward the monitor station where his partner Dmitry sat.

Grigori’s eyes widened as his eyes locked on the video monitor.

He and his partner had been assigned by their employer, Lebedev Industrial Combine, to spy on the famous young American inventor Thomasina Smith in hopes of being able to steal technical secrets. They had invested considerable effort and money in getting past the formidable security systems of Smith Enterprises. It had cost them a half million in American dollars to bribe the right people to allow them to install video and computer-data recorders of their own, a parallel surveillance network running under the electronic nose of the legitimate one. And up to now, returns had been modest. Monitor duty here had been dull.

Not now.

The beautiful young Thomasina Smith had inspired her share of fantasies in the bored spies. Today, she was acting one out.

She had done something to that lunk of a boyfriend of hers with the little device she’d called by that ridiculous name, and he’d turned into a puppet of flesh. Now she was pulling his strings in a way right out of a decadent Western porn movie.

The girl and her toy-boy were naked now and lying on the big couch along one wall of the girl’s private office, the young man—Rob, was that his name? It hardly seemed important—on top, clamped between Thomasina Smith’s strong thighs. As Grigori and Dmitry watched, he suddenly arched his back, pressed the girl’s shoulders into the couch cushions with his hands, and, head thrown back, emitted a shuddering cry of release which was echoed a moment later by a higher-pitched one from the girl.

Tommie sighed happily and opened her eyes. Rob was sprawled atop her, left hand cupping her right breast, right hand snaked around behind her and tangled in her glossy hair. She could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing, just as hers was doing.

She raised her hands, finding the sides of Rob’s face where it rested against her shoulder and raising it. Her boyfriend’s eyes were closed.

“Open your eyes, Rob honey,” she commanded. “Open your eyes, look into my eyes and listen to my voice.”

The mesmerized young man did as he’d been told. His eyes opened and locked on Thomasina Smith’s, gazing at her with calm acceptance. “Yes, mistress baby,” he murmured.

“We’ve had fun, Rob,” the mischievous inventor informed him, “but playtime’s over now. We’re going to go back to the way things usually are. Do you understand, Rob?”

He nodded. “The way things . . . usually are.” Even in his trance, he looked slightly disappointed.

“That means there’s something I need you to do, Rob honey. Something very important.” Thomasina framed Rob’s face with her expensively manicured hands.

“In a moment, baby, I’m going to count to three. When I reach three, you’ll get up and we’ll both get dressed, and when we’re both dressed, you’re going to wake up from the deep hypnotic trance you’re in right now, the deep hypnotic trance you enjoy being in right now.”

“Going to . . . wake up.” Rob sounded just a little unhappy. “Yes, mistress baby.”

“But—listen carefully, Rob, this is important—when you do wake up, you’ll feel relaxed, and you won’t remember what really happened here. You won’t remember anything about my invention, or how I used it on you. All you’ll remember is that you came to visit me, and we chatted. You won’t remember what we talked about, but you won’t worry about that, because it doesn’t matter.”

“Relaxed.” The robotic echo emerged in a soft monotone. “Won’t remember . . . what really happened. We just . . . talked. Won’t remember what we . . . talked about, but it . . . doesn’t matter.”

“That’s right,” Thomasina agreed. “It doesn’t matter. Now I’m going to count to three, and as I count, you’re going to wake up gradually. One. You’re beginning to wake up.”

Rob blinked. His eyes began to focus.

“Two. You can feel yourself waking up, and as you do, the memory of what happened here just now sinks into the back of your mind where you won’t even know it’s there.”

Rob blinked again. For just a moment, a shadow crossed his face, as if he were trying to think of something which was just out of reach of his recollection. Then it was gone.

“Now Rob,” Thomasina said, “in a moment I’m going to wake you up completely. But before I do, I want to give you one last instruction. When I say the words ‘Robbie robot,’ you will relax and fall into a deep, deep sleep, just the way you were before I started waking you up, and you’ll do anything I say just as you did before. Do you understand, Robbie, and will you obey?”

“Yes, mistress baby.” The words came out louder this time, in something closer to Rob’s normal voice.

“Good boy, Robbie. Three.”

Rob Jones blinked. What had they been talking about? Oddly, it seemed to have slipped his mind. Oh, well, he told himself, it doesn’t matter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the movie, then?” Tommie asked. They’d made a date to see the new Indiana Jones adventure; both of them had seen the earlier installments on TV and enjoyed them.

“Sure.” Rob smiled at his girlfriend. It was nice to know that someone as brainy as she was enjoyed the same movies as a guy like him. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.

“Oh, one more thing, Robbie robot,” Tommie called out. Rob froze in place.

Thomasina Smith smiled. It had worked! She hadn’t been a hundred percent sure it would, since she’d waited until Robbie was in only the lightest of trances before giving him that post-hypnotic suggestion. Just to be sure, she thought, she ought to reinforce it. “Just a reminder, Robbie dear,” she said. “Whenever you hear me say the words ‘Robbie robot,’ you will fall into a deep trance, just the way you are now, and do anything I say, believe anything I say, remember what I tell you to remember. Do you understand, Robbie robot?”

“Yes, mistress baby,” Rob droned.

“Good, Robbie honey. Now in a second, I’m going to snap my fingers, and you’re going to wake up again. You won’t remember what just happened. You won’t even notice that time has passed. You’ll just wake up and go, just as you were planning to before I stopped you with our secret words. Do you understand, Robbie?”

“Yes, mistress baby.”

“And what are our secret words, the words which make you relax and obey, Robbie? Tell me.”

“Robbie robot,” came the reply.

“That’s right.” Thomasina nodded. She snapped her fingers.

Dmitry looked at Grigori, wide-eyed, as the American youth placidly left his girlfriend’s office. It was obvious the youth had no idea what had just happened. He was obeying the girl’s commands without the slightest awareness that they had ever been given.

“We must have that device!” Dmitry exclaimed. “It’s worth millions! Billions! If we deliver it to the Combine, we will be rich men!”

Grigori looked back, smirking. “And if we don’t, perhaps even richer, is that not so?” He paused, thinking, before going on: “I have a plan. Listen carefully. . . .”

Rob Jones didn’t notice the car until it pulled up beside him and a rough, accented voice called out, “Get in, please. In the back.” And even then, what he noticed most about it was the glint off a nasty-looking handgun one of the occupants was pointing at him through the open front passenger side window.

He took the hint. As he climbed into the vehicle, though, he protested, “What the heck do you want me for, anyway? I don’t have any money! And if this is a kidnapping, my parents don’t have much, either!”

One of the men in front, a foxy-faced fellow with a Boris Badenov accent and a mustache to match, answered. “This isn’t a robbery, boy. Not a kidnapping, either. We have a business proposition for you.”

“A business—what the hell?” Rob was baffled.

The car’s driver, a bulky figure, glanced back at him and said, “Be quiet, Mr. Jones. Your questions will be answered shortly.” Then, to Rob’s relief, he returned his attention to his driving.

Presently they arrived at a nondescript building in a run-down part of town and parked. Rob was ushered out of the car and into the building, which contained what looked like some sort of electronic command post, outfitted, he noticed, mostly with older equipment.

“What the hell is this place?” asked Rob. It looked like something out of an old sci-fi flick.

His eyes widened as he caught sight of a very familiar view on one of the numerous monitor screens: the inside of Tommie’s office. “What are you guys, anyway? Spies?”

The heavier one of his captors grinned and nodded. “Spies, yes.” After a moment, he elaborated: “Not like in the old days, no. We don’t work for government, against government. We work for business company, corporation, you would say. Interested in inventions of Smith Enterprises.” The grin widened. “Especially, it turns out, youngest member of family.”

“What’s Tommie got to do with you?” Now Rob’s puzzlement was tinged with fear for his girlfriend’s safety. If these goons were after her—!

“Show him, Grigori,” the foxy-faced one ordered. The big one nodded and did something to another of the monitors.

“This is from last time you were in girlfriend’s office,” the hulk—Grigori, evidently—declared. And indeed an image of Tommie’s office did appear on the monitor, its viewpoint apparently from somewhere on the wall next to the door.

But what it showed . . . ! Rob watched, speechless, as the recording played out.

“It’s a trick,” he finally said. “None of that happened! I don’t remember any of it!”

“Of course not,” the foxy-faced one said. “The girl told you not to.” After a moment, he added, “And ask yourself: if it is fake, how did we do it? Does it look like a trick of the camera? How would we do such a thing?”

Rob had no answer to that. But if it were real . . . “Why did you show me this?”

Foxy-face answered. “Come on, Mr. Jones. Miss Smith made a puppet of you, used you as a sexual toy, despite professing to love you. You cannot tell me that after seeing that, you do not wish a bit of, how do you say it, payback. What could be better than to steal the very invention she used on you? Perhaps use it on her, hey? Then turn it over to us, for, let us say, a substantial reward? I am sure our employer would authorize such a thing, for a prize of this nature.”

“I’m sure they would,” Rob agreed. His voice was steady, but inside, he was seething.

The two spies waited patiently. At length, Rob nodded. “All right. We have a deal.” He paused. “But how can I get my hands on it?”

“Easier than you think,” Grigori told him. “Girl has been keeping it in her desk. Counts on office security to keep out would-be thieves in first place, and besides, device doesn’t look like anything worth stealing. Plans for it, she keeps on computer, encrypted, but if you get device, you can get her to give you copy, then forget. And office security will not keep you out. Authorized visitor.” He snickered. “Harmless.”

Rob eyed the big man with new respect. His English might be less fluent than his partner’s, but he was smarter than he’d seemed. “What if I don’t agree? You’re asking me to sell out my girlfriend, her company—hey, even my country; it wasn’t that long ago you guys were our enemies, and we’re still not exactly friends.” Nobody had actually said the two spies were Russian, but with their accents and the big one’s name, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. “I don’t need money that bad. Or revenge either.”

“Better to agree,” advised Grigori. “Right now no one knows where you are. Would be too bad if tomorrow you were found to have had unfortunate accident.” His partner frowned, but said nothing.

“So that’s how it is, eh?” Rob’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Either I hand over Tommie’s invention to you, take the money and keep my mouth shut, or you kill me? Nice guys you two are.”

“In America you have a saying, do you not?” the smaller spy retorted. “Nice guys finish last. We intend to come out first instead. Whether you do as well is up to you.”

Rob nodded sourly in understanding and thought carefully. After several minutes he nodded again. “All right, you’ve got me. I’ll do it.”