The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story 5: “I Love This Game”

Leslie is extremely nervous. I can’t say I blame her. She’s losing to me. They’re always nervous when they’re losing, especially when it gets right down to the wire. I made it very clear when we were going over the rules that we would play until someone lost, there would be no giving up, no getting out of it, no quarter given, and none taken. She was down to her panties now. That was all she had left. Her deal. I laid three cards down on the floor, and she gave me three more. Her breathing was heavy. Her nipples were as erect as my penis, but they were erect because she was scared. She’d never played strip poker before. She’d played regular poker, however, so she had thought that perhaps she could win, but not against me. No one ever wins against me, ever. She exchanged two of her cards with two new ones. She might get in a couple more lucky hands, which would bring me down to my boxers, but final victory would go to me, as it always had and always would. Maybe she would be able to beat my straight flush, but I very seriously doubted it.

“Three of a kind.” she said. She had been hoping for at least a full house. I’d been keeping track of the cards she’d kept, and where they’d been in her hand.

“Straight flush.” I replied, setting my cards on the floor. Leslie’s head sagged in shame as she removed her panties. “You played well.” I told her. “Tell you what, why don’t we play one more hand? If you win, I’ll give you all your clothes back. If you lose, you have to do whatever I say.” Here’s where all the young virgins make their biggest mistake. Leslie really would rather not be naked, even for me, whom she’s known for months. She agrees to play the Last Hand. It’s my deal.

Her eyes brighten as she picks up her cards. She doesn’t get any new ones. I grab two, looking at her delighted face without looking like I’m looking at it. I have the perfect poker face as I glance between her naked body and my cards. She takes this to mean that I don’t have as good a hand as her. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ll lose, just this once. There’s a first time for everything, after all. Maybe she’ll be the lucky one.

“Straight flush.” she says. Her cards run from five to nine in the clubs. I lay my hand down.

“Straight flush.” I say. “King, Queen, Jack, Ten and Nine of diamonds.” She stared at my cards, as realization that my hand was once again higher filtered through her shocked brain. Finally, she submitted. She hung her head in shame at her stupidity.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, hoping to get it over with. I told her to get on her hands and knees. She obeyed, expecting an anal fuck, or at least to be penetrated from behind. She certainly didn’t expect an injection. She cried out with an “Ow!” then turned her head to look at me, and no sooner had she gotten an eyeful of the empty syringe in my hand than she began to feel the effects of the njection. Consciousness left her almost as soon as her numbed body hit the shag carpet floor. I lifted her up in my arms and carried her to a bedroom. For three days she breathed in the perfumed air of the room, in which there were one hundred fifty-two blue candles and one hundred twenty-one green candles made out of a special gel I had concocted. They had two functions. The blue candles kept her unconscious and paralyzed. The green candles acted on the mind. After the three days were up, I went in with a gas mask and snuffed the candles, then aired out the room. She lay there for several hours, until finally some of the effects of the chemicals in her system began to wear off. While she could now awaken and move, she had a bad case of what some call the “early morning stares.”

“Good morning, Leslie.” I said.

“Morning.” she replied, rubbing her eyes.

“Sure is a nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” she said, yawning. She hadn’t noticed that she was naked. I watched her face as she sat on the bed. Pretty soon she was blank-faced, staring at nothing. I kept my voice at a soft monotone so as not to break the trance.

“You’re feeling very relaxed now, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm.” she replied flatly.

“Very relaxed and open, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Good girl. Listen carefully, Leslie. Remember the poker game? I gave you a second chance to get your clothes back, and you lost. Remember what we agreed would happen if you lost?”

“I...I would do whatever you said.” she replied.

“Right.” I said. “You always keep your promises, don’t you, Leslie?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Yes, you’re a very good girl. So from now on you’ll do whatever I tell you, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Good. Now listen close, Leslie, this is important. You are compelled to obey me.”

“I am compelled to obey you.”

“You will obey my every command.”

“I will obey your every command.”

“You need me to command you.”

“I need you to command me.”

“It’s hard for you to think.”

“It’s hard for me to think.”

“You want to obey me.”

“I want to obey you.”

“You want to submit to me.”

“I want to submit to you.”

“You want to be my slave.”

“I want to be your slave.”

“The thought of being my slave makes you hot and wet and very very horny.”

“The thought of being your slave makes me hot and wet and very very horny.”

“You will enjoy being my slave.”

“I will enjoy being your slave.”

And it went on like that for almost an hour. I put her to sleep after that so she could soak up what had been told to her. The next day, I repeated the encounter. She repeated what was told to her just as she had the day before. On the third day, I stepped up the commands, increasing her enslavement to me, and the day after, I reinforced the new commands. Finally, on the sixth day, I had stepped her up to the top-level commands.

“You have no will of your own.”

“I have no will of my own.”

“You have no mind of your own.”

“I have no mind of my own.”

“Your body is mine to enjoy.”

“My body is yours to enjoy.”

“I am your master.”

“You are my master.”

“You are my slave.”

“I am your slave.”

“You exist only to serve and please me.”

“I exist only to serve and please you.”

“There is not a thought in your head except my last command.”

“There is not a thought in my head except your last command.”

“You are my puppet.”

“I am your puppet.”

“You are my robot toy.”

“I am your robot toy.”

“I now control every aspect of your behavior.”

“You now control every aspect of my behavior.”

On and on it went, as she accepted my commands without question. Finally, her programming completed, Leslie was ready for a test drive. I had her lay down, and I played a tape with several voices saying “stand up.” She remained in her reclined position until she heard my voice say it, then she was on her feet in one fluid motion, staring blankly ahead and awaiting further instructions. Having firmly, in my opinion, established that she would obey only me, I summoned her to me. I gave her her first service command.

“Yes, Master, I will suck your penis and swallow your sperm.” she said. She took my penis in her mouth and began to suck. She swallowed every drop of the sperm I shot in there. I laid her back on the bed and commanded her to spread her legs.

“Yes, Master, I will spread my legs for you.” she said. Her well-lubricated pussy accepted my cock up to a point, at which time I had to puncture her maidenhead. Her expression (or lack thereof) did not change. Her tight pussy filled me with ecstasy. I had her eight times that way. After a rest, I gave her another command.

“Yes, Master, my ass is ready to be fucked by you.” she said, and her ass received my penis like an old friend. I had her in every way my twisted mind could concoct. Finally satisfied that her programming had held and that she was completely mine for the rest of her life, I had her follow me into another room. After feeding her and letting her relieve herself of wastes, I put her in yet another room, where the other slaves were kept. Seven young women in varying stages of pregnancy, and one who was mindlessly nursing her newborn daughter, lay in that room. With my new acquisition settled, I left the room and went for the phone. After five rings, someone picked up.

“Hello, Barbara? I was wondering if you’d like to come over for a game of poker. Oh, don’t worry if you don’t have any money. It’s strip poker. I’ve wanted to play this game with you for a while now.” With so many lucrative opportunities to nab young women, is it any wonder I love this game?

Story 6: “Circumventing the Golden Rule of Hypnosis”

Bill had never liked the Golden Rule of Hypnosis, which stated that no one could be compelled under hypnosis to do anything which was abhorrent to his or her nature. It had always gotten in the way of his fun. He had tried to get women to undress and get horny under hypnosis, but they had freaked and broken the trance. Now Bill believed he had a way of circumventing this rule. Now all he needed was someone to try it on.

He stepped into a bar and looked around. Aside from the usual hookers and barmaids—all of whom were fatass bitches in this bar—there wasn’t much to pick from. Finally he came across a young lady who was surrounded by half-drunk guys trying to grope her. He walked up, and in less than a minute, had put all of them except the girl into deep trances.

“It’s getting late. You should head home. And please, take a cab, so you don’t end up getting in an accident. You can pick the car up tomorrow at seven a.m.” he said. “You’ll come out of your trance and leave in three, two, one.” He snapped his fingers, and all the guys departed.

“Nice trick.” the young lady said once the guys were gone. “I hope you weren’t planning on hypnotizing me into being your fuckslave or something like that.”

“Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule of Hypnosis?” he asked. She shook her head. “It states that a hypnotist cannot force a person to do anything which is abhorrent to their nature.”

“So, if you were to hypnotize me, you couldn’t make me fuck you if I didn’t want to?”

“No one really knows what they really want subconsciously, unless they’re in a trance.” he said. “But, you’re right. If deep down you didn’t want to be fucked, then I couldn’t make you. Oh, where are my manners? My name’s Bill.”

“Tanya.” she replied. Tanya was quite attractive. Her breasts were just a little bit too large for her frame, but not much. She was dressed in a loose-fitting T-shirt and tight shorts. Those breasts of hers were restrained only by the shirt. Her light brown hair came down to her shoulders, and, though straight, had nice, stylish curls at the ends. Her eyes were a deep blue that sparkled in the light from the shaking ceiling fans. Bill watched those eyes sparkle as he kept up a conversation with her that kept her attention focussed on him, and gradually he relaxed her and kept narrowing her focus until she was in the deepest trance Bill had ever put anyone into.

“Listen to me, Tanya.” he said. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I need you to answer in complete honesty. Understand?”

“Mm-hmm.” she replied.

“Good.” Bill said. “Now, Tanya, how do you feel about me?”

“I like you.” she replied. “You’re a great guy. It’s so hard to find great guys in this town.”

“Do you find me attractive in any way?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm.” she replied. “I like your eyes. Green is my favorite color.”

“Have you ever thought about having sex with someone you barely know?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Have you ever done it?”

“Uh-uh. I can’t. That would be wrong. I’d end up feeling all guilty about it later, especially if I enjoyed it.”

“Would you feel guilty if someone else did it?” he asked.

“No. How could I feel guilty if it wasn’t me that did it?”

“Good answer.” Bill said. “Now listen to me, Tanya. When I say ‘switch out,’ you won’t be Tanya anymore. You’ll be Bibi. Bibi exists for the express purpose of pleasing her Master. I am Bibi’s Master. Bibi will do whatever I tell her, no matter what it is. Bibi will never have any conscious knowledge of what happens to you, and you will never have any conscious knowledge of what Bibi does or what happens to her. You won’t even be aware that she exists. Whenever I say ‘switch out’ to you, you will become Bibi, but when I say ‘switch out’ to Bibi, you will be back to normal. Does that sound alright?”

“Mm-hmm.” Tanya said.

“So, who is Bibi?”

“Bibi is your slave. She exists for the express purpose of serving you. She will do whatever you tell her to, no matter what it is.”

“Good. Now, when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, and you will not remember this conversation, but you will still be subject to the suggestions. Understand?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay, good. Now, five, four, three, two, one.” Snap! Tanya’s eyes came open and her head returned to its upright position.

“Sorry, I guess I dozed off there. I don’t know why, you were saying such interesting things.” At his query, she recounted what he’d told her. He checked his watch. 11:30.

“It’s getting late.” Bill said. “Can I walk you home, or do you have a car?”

“I don’t have a car.” Tanya said.

“Then may I walk you home?”

“Sure.” Tanya said, rising from the booth. They left the bar arm-in-arm. They came to Tanya’s apartment, and Bill kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for a wonderful evening. She opened the door and just as she was about to walk in, Bill said her trigger.

“Switch out.” he said. Her face went blank for a second, then she looked at him with a submissive expression. She went down to her knees.

“How may I serve you, Master?” she asked.

Story 7: “Dream Weaver”

Daniel West dropped his soaking bookbag in the corner beside the hall closet. His sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor. Thunder roared through the open front door.

“Shut up.” he muttered to the storm. The thunder replied with an especially loud explosion. “No one else listens to me, why should you be any different?” he sighed.

He shucked off his blazer and his ball cap, cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. The funny thing was, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky that morning, and in Goblin Flats the weather hardly ever changed so suddenly.

Goblin Flats was a small town by any standards. No one in town owned a car built after 1975, and Goblin Flats didn’t even have a fast food restaurant. Daniel ached for some McDonald’s french fries, like he’d had in the city, but NO, his family had to live in a backwater town because of his mother’s migraines.

Still, Goblin Flats had its advantages. No gangs, no drugs more addictive than Tylenol, no Rohypnol rapes or, for that matter, any crime to speak of, the air was much cleaner, and after three and a half years of Goblin Flats food, Daniel had lost his paunch and was becoming quite a muscular young man. And, of course, there were fish in the river that took almost any bait you put in there, be it lure, worm, shrimp, bacon, or even your big toe. The fish weren’t little ones, either, but big ones that seized on your line and dragged your boat upstream, downstream, or in circles until they wore themselves out, then it was a matter of reeling them in and cracking them over the head with the oar. Daniel still hated the mosquitoes, though. They bred in people’s tire swings, dog water dishes and swimming pools and achieved a size roughly equivalent to that of a biplane, then made their best effort to impale humans on their needle-like noses. They had become immune to bug repellant and had learned to survive flyswatters, reassembling their crushed limbs and returning to the air to strike again—or at least that’s how Daniel thought of it.

But Daniel wasn’t thinking about this now. All he cared about was that he was going to end up paying for the schoolbook soup that sat in his bookbag, the water and page-parts running out through the mesh that the school required all backpacks to be made of, out of fear of guns, not to mention his cousin’s Diskman, whose electronics had been zapping him repeatedly throughout the long walk home. His hands had wrinkled and shriveled, and his hair was dripping in his face. It took almost half an hour for him to get dried off enough that he wasn’t physically uncomfortable anymore.

He plopped down onto the recliner in the living room and leaned it way back, calming himself with images of Sandy Harper, a girl from Daniel’s homeroom class, and Daniel’s romantic fantasy. He forced from his mind the thought that she would probably never go out with him, or even pay much attention to him at all. Her long, flowing hair entwined itself around his mind, drawing his attention to her sensual curves, her deep, brown eyes and her full, pouting lips. He fell asleep quickly.

Everything was complete darkness. Daniel knew he was dreaming, but he didn’t know what to do. He imagined a field and he could suddenly feel it under his feet. The stars lit up with a mere thought from his mind. Daniel spied a shadow over some of the stars, moving around as if groping blindly. He hadn’t willed in a shadow. He willed the moon to appear, and it did, illuminating the field and its occupants; Daniel and Sandy. She was without clothing, period, and she seemed frightened.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“In a very weird dream.” Daniel replied.

“Dream? Oh, my God, I fell asleep in the shower!” Sandy exclaimed, trying to pinch herself. Daniel looked at himself and found that he was wearing the same garments he’d been wearing when he fell asleep. Strange. Maybe his dream had somehow been linked to Sandy’s mind. He tried to will her to come to him, just as he’d willed the other happenings in the dream, but nothing happened. He willed harder, and she seemed about to respond, but she stopped herself, returning to the activity of hiding her privates. Daniel willed even harder, concentrating very hard, and she stood, then began to approach him. He got her into his arms and held her gently. He stroked her hair and whispered soothing words into her ear. Soon he worked up the courage to give her a kiss, on the forehead. Her arms twitched, as though she were trying to decide whether to surrender or shove him away. Suddenly the dream started to fade, and Daniel released her.

Daniel’s mother was shaking him like a British nanny. She smacked him three times across the face, screaming “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” before he grabbed her hand to stop her. “Oh, thank God!” she exclaimed “I was getting worried! I couldn’t find a pulse!”

“No worries, Mom.” Daniel replied, rubbing the sore spots on his cheeks.

The rest of the day was uneventful. There was nothing but reruns on TV, since cable companies didn’t even try to come down to Goblin Flats. There was no way for Daniel to rent video games, because they were so far from the nearest town that was big enough to be considered as a location for a Blockbuster or a C & D Videos. Movies were out of the question, too, so once Daniel’s chores were done and dinner was eaten, there was no reason to stay up late, even on a Friday night.

The dream started out the same way it had for his little nap. This time, he willed a bedroom. Sandy was there, just like last time, but this time she was wearing a nightgown.

“What do you want?” she asked, frightened. Daniel willed her to take off the nightgown, but this time it was a little easier. He willed her into the bed. She panted with fear, but he stroked her hair gently, calming her fears. His caresses migrated down her body until he reached her hips, at which time he decided to take her.

When he had finished, he traced his initials on her breasts with his finger. She had stopped resisting once he had started thrusting into her, but she still seemed unhappy. He asked her what the problem was.

“What is happening to me?” she asked. “I can’t stop thinking of you, even when I’m awake.”

“Just relax.” he said as he gently caressed her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why can’t I control my own dreams?” she asked.

“Maybe they’re not your dreams. Maybe someone else is dreaming this, and willing you to do what you do.”

“Is it you? Are you the one who’s controlling my dreams?” she asked.

“Don’t ask me how I do it, I just do.” he said. “All you have to do is let me dream for us.” he took her again, this time meeting no resistance from her. He had her seven times that night, in the dream.

He woke after about eight hours, lusting for Sandy. He got dressed and got his Saturday chores out of the way before he walked off toward Sandy’s house. She was sitting on her porch, staring at nothing. He could almost see the blankness in her mind. He decided to will her over to him, and to his surprise, it worked! She rose and walked slowly into his arms.

At his touch, she was roused out of her unthinking state, and he couldn’t control her anymore. So, he thought, all she has to be is in any dreamlike or unthinking state. She looked around, confused.

“What do you want?” she asked, frightened. He ignored the question.

“How do you feel about me, Sandy?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean about me, personally, or...” he put his hand on her hip. “...otherwise.” She began breathing heavily, and Daniel could sense her desire. She wanted him badly, but was afraid of what her parents might say. He calmed her fears with a kiss, and she melted into him.

“Hey, you! Get your hands off my daughter!” snarled Aaron Harper, Sandy’s father. He was grabbing a shotgun from its place next to the door. “Get away from here, and if I ever see your face again outside your own yard, I’m gonna blow your head off! Git!”

Daniel knocked the gun out of Mr. Harper’s hands by throwing a brick, and the stock came up and knocked him out. He pulled Sandy past the fence and down the road until they reached his house. They ran up into Daniel’s bedroom. He left her sitting on the bed while he went into the bathroom. She began to daydream, and Daniel could sense she was daydreaming about what her father might do to them later. He willed her to draw the shades and take off her clothes. He willed her into the bed, and he willed her to open her legs. He decided to try something. He imagined a jeweled crown with hypnotic powers, and then he allowed his dream-image to place it on her head. Sandy closed her eyes and reopened them. When she reopened her eyes, they had a glazed look to them. Her face was slack and her body was limp.

“What is your command, Master?” she asked. Her tone was like the ones he’d heard from people who were hypnotized in cartoons, flat and emotionless. Not what he wanted from Sandy. He took the dream-crown off her dream-image’s head, but then he imagined a sorcerer putting her under a powerful geas that forced her to obey, no matter what commands were given to her. It would be much more satisfying taking her when she could react, yet never disobey.

Daniel was about to satisfy his desire when he began to wonder how he had come by this strange dream-controlling power, and voiced these questions to Sandy, who sat there listening intently, her vagina dripping with the juices of her arousal. He could tell by her expression that she understood why he was asking, and could sense that it was making her want him more. Well, there would be time to explore this further tomorrow. Right now, Daniel wanted to explore Sandy.