The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was another quiet night at the hotel bar. A few couples drifted in and out as the night wore on, while a party of businessmen in a back booth slowly transformed from sober and serious to raucous and loud. Five sad souls perched on their bar stools like ravens, staring listlessly into whatever liquid medicine they’d chosen for themselves. The man at the end of the bar took it all in, and jotted notes down in the old college journal he’d rescued, on impulse, from an upper shelf in the hall closet. It was the only thing besides clothing that he’d taken with him when he went into… into whatever this was.

“Exile, that’s what this is,” said James to himself. He flipped to a new page and wrote it down.

Exile. Another day of my self-imposed exile. I miss her so much. But, no matter how many lonely drunks I see here, no matter how many times I’ve been a lonely drunk myself over the past few days, I can’t go back yet. She needs her space. I guess I still need mine, too.

He caught a glimpse of auburn hair and spun on the bar stool, hoping and also fearing that Kate had tracked him down somehow, but it was only an older woman headed to the party in the back. He watched as she dropped her briefcase onto a chair and raised her hands in triumph; the others cheered wildly and offered high-fives. James smiled. Good things still happen to people.

“Say, what’s a barfly like you doing in a nice joint like this?”

He swung around on the stool again, away from the celebration and towards the voice, which belonged to a beautiful young woman. She stood at the bar next to James, glass in hand, smiling at him. Her smile was dazzling. Everything about her was dazzling. She held up her glass as if she were modeling it for a billboard. “Care for a drink? I’m a little wary of joining the frat house over there, if you don’t mind the company.”

He made an effort to scoot the barstool to his right, to give her more room, but it only wobbled for a moment before coming to rest exactly in the position where it started. He knew that she was watching him fail at such a simple task, and, embarrassed, he blushed a bit. “Hi, I’m… hold on…” he gave the stool an extra shove, leveraging himself against the bar rail. It worked, and the stool stumbled back a few inches. “I’m James. Grab a seat.”

“Sarah,” said the blonde, all smiles and sunshine. She held out her small, manicured hand, and James took it into his own as she climbed onto the stool next to his. “Thanks for the rescue, James. You’re the only person in this bar who isn’t drunk or on his way there.”

“Don’t count me out yet,” he said, patting the cover of the journal. “It’s the only thing left in my day planner for today.”

She laughed in a way that sounded both practiced and perfectly natural at the same time. “Well then, let me get you started on your journey. Scotch and soda?” Before he could answer either way, she waved the bartender over and placed an order.

He pointed in the direction of the business party. “Coworkers of yours?”

“Sometimes,” said Sarah, “but not always. I’m a consultant. They hire me from time to time to do their publicity campaigns. This was a good one. I heard they closed with the client today, or tomorrow. It’s a done deal, anyway.” She leaned closer to James. “But my life is boring. What’s your story, Hemingway? Just sitting at the bar with your journal, waiting for moments like this?”

“Journal?” He looked down at the book.

“It says ‘journal’ right there on the cover.” She traced a delicate finger over the book, slowly, almost sensuously. “So, tell me about yourself. You look like you have a good story or two in you. If that’s okay with you, that is. I don’t want to pry.”

“I’m… just killing time here, really.”

She held up her drink. “We all are. It’s what bars were made for.”

“No it’s… I’m just waiting for my wife, that’s all.” He drew out the word wifea bit, raising his voice, giving his ring finger a subtle wiggle. Sarah was breathtaking, but James was a married man, and he intended to stay that way.

She giggled, shaking her head as she did so, her light blonde hair almost glowing under the bar lights. “Oh, you do the same thing I do!” She held up her left hand and showed him her ring. “Just a little subtle wiggle, right? I appreciate that, James. Most married guys will throw their hand in my face like I’m about to wreck their home.” She hopped off the stool and held up her hands. “No no, hot woman! Away, foul temptress! I have a boring wife and a 401K! Begone!”

James laughed. “I have an exciting wife and no 401K, so you’re welcome to talk to me any time, foul temptress.” He patted the barstool and laughed again, smiling as she reclaimed her spot next to him. “You know, it’s good to meet a kindred soul once in a while. Most of the conversation around here is about football and investment banking.”

They made small talk for a while. The businessmen finally wound down their boozy party and stumbled out of the room, leaving only a few stragglers in booths and themselves at the bar. They both enjoyed the newfound quiet.

After a while, Sarah turned to James. Her face was filled with concern and pity. “Look, can I say something? Your wife’s not here, James. And she’d not on her way here, either. I know that look on your face, and I’m really sorry. If it helps any, I’ve been there myself a few times. I hope things get better. I’m here if you want to talk about it. I also understand if you don’t. Sometimes it’s good to have a shoulder, that’s all.”

His face fell. “Well… you know first I have to… you know, little boys room and all of that. Can you watch my stuff?”

“Read your journal? Learn all of your secrets and dreams? Steal your cell phone and prank-call my boss? No promises.” She winked and patted the journal. “I’ll behave. Scout’s honor.”

She broke into a wicked smile as she watched him head towards the restrooms.

Kate wrapped her hands around the mug and sighed, letting the heat spread happily into her cold hands. She brought the mug to her face and let the hot tea (and just a bit of Stephenson’s Quality Country Bourbon) warm her insides as well. She tucked into the thick blankets and fished out the TV remote.

Drama. Rerun. Reality show. Reality show. Rerun. Dram—christ, this show is still on the air? It’s been like ten years. Stupid sitcom. Lifetime movie of the week, no thank you! Superhero movie. Rerun. Sword and Rose… God, I haven’t seen that in forever. News. More news. Jesus, what the hell am I doing? Kate, you should be doing something. Besides watching TV.

She thought about the metronome upstairs. The last time had been a bust, but surely it had been long enough since the last makeshift session, and it was almost bedtime anyway. Perhaps she could pick up something new to discuss with Doctor Kapoor. Perhaps she might remember something really important. Even if nothing came up, whatever trance she could work herself into was going to help her to sleep better than anything she could find on television.

Reluctantly abandoning the comfy blankets, she grabbed her mug and headed to the bedroom.

“You’re still here!” said James, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

Sarah held up his journal. “Would you believe there’s not a single sex scene in this whole book? So disappointed. Three out of ten, would not read again. Oh, I got you a new drink. You look like you needed one.”

“Thanks. I’ll get the next round.”

Another dazzling smile. “Fair enough. I hope you like scotch and soda, by the way. It’s my favorite, but I forgot to even ask you what you liked.” She continued to smile as he took a long drink and sighed happily. He’ll never taste the drug.

“Okay,” he said, easing back onto his bar stool. “Where were we?”

“Your wife. My husband. Why good people get weird sometimes, and drive the rest of us to drink. A story by Sarah Jacobs, in seventeen parts. Chapter one, I love my husband, but he loves his job more than anything in the world. People said that I was just a trophy wife. I guess I never wanted to believe them.” She watched James carefully as his body slowly began to slouch, and his eyes grew unfocused. She leaned towards him, lowering her voice just enough to be noticeable. “Sometimes my husband isn’t quite as… adventurous… as I want him to be. Sometimes I like to go out and see what other fish live in the sea, if you know what I mean.”

He blinked and looked at her. “My wife… I’m married, you know. I love her. We’re just having a little break.”

She placed her hand on his, running her thumb gently across the tops of his fingers. “I know. I am, too. I understand you, James. I bet your wife is very beautiful, just like me. So beautiful and sensual and loving. The way her lips feel on yours, the way her touch electrifies you.” She squeezed his hand and moved closer, breathing into his ear. “Her breath on your skin… so warm. So soft and gentle.”

“I…”

“The way she looks into your eyes, James. The way she speaks to you, sweet and sexy and hot, just like this. Her touch, just like this.” She ran her hand down his back, tracing his spine with her fingertip. “I bet you miss that right now, all alone here at the bar. I miss it, too. I miss those strong hands on my body, making me melt, making me wet. You’re making me so wet right now James.” She kissed his cheek. “Take me to your room. Take me.”

She took him by the hand and helped him down from the stool.

They made it as far as his floor before she was on top of him, shoving him against the wall, burying her tongue inside his mouth as her hands roamed his body and one of her long, toned legs wrapped around his. “Fuck me, James. Fuck me so hard. I need you inside me. Please. Feel it now, feel how hot you are. Feel how hot I am for you.”

“Sarah,” he gasped. “I… wait… I don’t know what’s…”

She kissed him passionately, and moaned as he responded in kind. She placed his hands on her ass and pressed against him. “Shhhh…,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “You’re going to feel wonderful, James. You’re about to have the best sex of your life. Just relax and let it happen. Relax and listen to my voice.”

“But… no. Kate…”

“There’s no Kate, lover, only me. Only my body. My beautiful, sexy body. You love it so much, don’t you? Feel your hands run all over it, feel it press against yours. I’m so hot for you right now. Just nod and agree, okay? That’s it. Thaaaaat’s it. Good boy. Turn off your mind and let your body do allllll the work. You’ve never been more horny than you are right now. More turned on than you are… mmmm, yes, that’s it… more turned on than ever, James. It’s going to be incredible, I promise. You’re rock hard, and you want to be inside me. So badly, James. Right now.”

He looked into her brown eyes. “Sarah, you’re so… so hot.” He embraced her and kissed her, hard, his hands quickly removing her blazer and moving to unbutton her blouse. “Fuck,” he stammered. “Kate, Sarah, you’re… I want you so bad.”

“I know, baby,” she cooed. “Let’s get you to your room.”

He kissed her again, spinning her around until her back was to the wall. “You’re just so… so… oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my… urk. Gah.” His hands flew up to his mouth. “Urp. Oh God, I gotta… hang on, I gotta…”

With that, he pushed away from Sarah and broke into a panicked run down the hall, fishing out his room key as he did so. The force of the shove knocked her to the floor. “James!” she shouted, struggling to get to her feet. “James, wait!”

She followed him down the hall, slowed by her heels and by her late start. By the time she reached his hotel room door, it had swung shut. She tried the handle, and was met with a red light on the door lock.

She knocked on the door. “James.” More knocks. “JAMES. Let me in!” From inside came the sounds of moaning and retching. She tried changing her tone. “James? Honey?” She looked up and down the hall, watching for onlookers, but no one appeared to notice the commotion. “James? Can you let me in, please?”

“Ugh,” she heard him say. “URK. I’m so… URK. I’m sorry, I can’t. URGHAH.” More retching followed as the scotch, the soda, the drug, and the bar peanuts all made the return journey out of his stomach and into the toilet.

She frowned, and walked away from the door, buttoning her blouse as she did so. At the elevator, she retrieved her blazer and purse from the floor. Reaching into the latter, she grabbed her phone and dialed the number that suddenly appeared in her mind.

“Were you successful?”

“No. The drug made him sick.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Nikki.”

She stared at the elevator door. “Yes, sir.”

“We’ll have to try another approach. You have completed your mission for tonight, Nikki.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will go to your car. When you turn the keys in the ignition, you will awaken, and remember only the programmed events.”

“Yes, I understand.”

She placed the phone into her purse and pushed the ‘down’ button.

Kate set the metronome on the dresser and tried to make herself comfortable. Inside, her nerves and the bourbon churned uncomfortably together. This is not going to be magic. It’s all about focus. She let the arm swing and settled back into the bed, letting her eyes follow the motion as she began chanting to herself. “Back and forth… back and forth. Relax and remember. Relax, and remember. Relax…”

Relax… wait. Wait, I have an idea.

She sat upright and tapped her fingers on her head, wondering just where she’d left the thing that had just popped into her mind. “I haven’t used it in years. Hall closet? Bedroom closet?” She decided to try the bedroom closet first, and in a few moments was on her knees digging past shoeboxes and old photo albums. Spying a familiar plastic tub, she yelped triumphantly and pulled it free from its shelf, leaving behind a small avalanche of old sweaters and forgotten wool socks in its wake.

“There it is,” she said, digging through the tub and pulling out the old handheld tape recorder she’d bought in college. Perfect for lectures, she thought, and perfect for recording a little relaxation speech for myself. She opened the battery compartment, and pried out two ancient-looking AAs from the machine. She shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. There were spare batteries in the bottom drawer of the dresser, along with all of the other bedroom junk that she’d collected over the years.

“Batteries,” she said to herself as she looked through the drawer. “Batteries. Batteries?” She held up her old vibrator, and giggled to herself. “My my, we sure had some fun back on Grant Street, didn’t we buddy? I may have to take you out for a date tonight. But first… let’s see what makes you hum.” Sadly, Mister P was of no help; only C batteries resided inside his cylindrical body. She placed him on the bed and resumed her search.

“Okay. Batteries. Didn’t I just buy… hello, what are you?” She reached for an overstuffed sock that had been stretched into a rectangular shape. Inside was a plastic black box, hinged at the end, like a watch box. She looked at it, turning it over in her hands. “I don’t remember buying a watch. Then again… fucking amnesia! Let’s see what I splurged on.” She flipped open the lid.

Her jaw dropped open and her eyes widened. “What the hell?”

Inside were two clear vials, each about two inches long, each filled about two-thirds of the way full with a white substance. She tentatively reached for one of the vials and turned it over in her hands. The white stuff inside slid and piled against the stopper like sand. A skinny label identified it only as ‘X33.’

She turned the vial over and over again, fascinated by her discovery. “Jesus, Kate, are you fucking dealing crack cocaine? Are you a fucking drug dealer? What the hell is this stuff?”

The vial turned over and over in her hand. She stared down at it, her head softly rolling back and forth. Over and over and over…

You’re so very sleepy and relaxed now, aren’t you?” she asked.

The woman in the passenger seat sighed happily. “Yeah… so relaxed.”

She spun the crystal again and watched the light dance over the entranced woman’s face. “So relaxed, Jane. After such a long shift, it feels so good to relax like this. Relaxed and safe and sleepy, hearing only my voice, seeing only my crystal. Relaxed and sleepy, and ready for a nice long rest. So sleepy.”

The woman’s eyes fluttered. “So sleepy now. So… sleepy. Want to…”

“Sleep, I know. And in a few minutes you’ll be in your own bed, deeply asleep, finally able to get a good night’s rest. You’ll sleep and forget all about this little talk, because you’ll be so deeply asleep.”

“Sssssoooo deep,” she sighed. “So ssssleeepy…”

“Remember what I told you, Jane. I’m going to make you so relaxed and sleepy, and you’re going to do the little thing I asked you to do, won’t you?”

She smiled broadly, dreamily. “I will. Just a little thing. So I can sleep better.”

“You’ll put this into her creamer every time she asks for it, and you’ll forget all about it as soon as you do so.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“See? It’s so easy to sleep now, Jane. Just by doing this little thing. And by making sure that you work every Wednesday at lunchtime, so that your coworkers can stay home and sleep. You’ll be helping them to get some sleep, too. Isn’t that nice? Everyone is so relaxed and warm and sleepy, just like you are feeling right now. No more sleepless nights, no more feeling tired, just a deep, deep sleep. Every time you do what I’ve asked you to do. Deeply asleep, and wonderful.”

“Yes, so wonderful.”

“When I snap my fingers, you’ll wake up, glad that I’ve given you a ride home, because you’re so sleepy. You can sleep in your warm bed instead of on the bus. Isn’t that nice?”

Another smile. “So nice. You’ve been so nice to me.”

“When I snap my fingers, Jane. Three, two, one…”

Doctor Kapoor let out a sigh, just loud enough to clearly express her disappointment. “I thought we had discussed this. Your memories are there, but if you try to force yourself to remember them, you will only push them further away. You have your whole life to get them back, Kate.”

She sat in the leather chair across from Doctor Kapoor’s desk, tapping her fingers on the armrests. “But… like I said, Claire and I did some research, and a lot of those memories… they checked out. The girls, the guy, the fancy house. It’s real.”

Doctor Kapoor removed her glasses and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Do you have proof that it is real?”

“Well… no. There were no pictures of me, no mention in the paper, but Nikki was—”

“Was a thing that you might have remembered, or maybe you think that you remember it. We discussed this, too. Repressed memories are not iron-clad. You cannot even use them in a courtroom as evidence. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. And I would rather that we help your future instead of your past. What is happening with James? On the phone, you said that there was a fight.”

I tried to kill him, and I don’t know why. I tried to kill my own husband because of something I can’t remember. Why can’t you help me remember it? “We had an argument. I went to the bedroom after it was over, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He left a note and said that he was going to stay in a hotel for a few days.”

“I see.” The Doctor cleaned her glasses and returned them to her face. “Have you spoken with him since?”

“No. I tried to call him. I left him a message. He hasn’t called me back. I didn’t want to keep calling him like a… well, like a crazy person.” She looked down at her legs. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a bad word around here.”

“Kate, you had a fight with your husband and he left you. That’s not crazy. That is you feeling sorrow and regret. And, you are strong enough to know that you don’t need him to come home right away. I would say that you did well for yourself. Let me guess. The fight was over something stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she lied. “Just a misunderstanding I guess.”

“Don’t you think that James is thinking the same thing wherever he is right now? That it was a stupid thing, and that he should probably just come home soon?”

“I guess.” She moved her hands into her lap, and frowned. “But I wish it were today. I wish he were here right now.”

“Tissues are on your left if you need them, Kate. It is going to be okay. You need to remember that. Your husband loves you, and you love him.”

She considered the tissues, then passed. “But Doctor, what if we’re not in love? Not really? What if we actually fight all of the time, and no one else knows? What if he knows, and he doesn’t want me to remember? What if all of this is just a figment of my imagination? That’s why I want to remember my past. So I can come to grips with this. I didn’t even know I was married! Now I have a husband and a marital crisis and I didn’t even ask for it! I don’t know if I even want it! Please. Please help me to remember.”

Her impassioned pleas were interrupted by a sharp series of beeps. Doctor Kapoor looked down at her wrist. “Oh, my apologies, Kate! This is a new watch that I purchased yesterday.” She fumbled with the watch buttons until the beeping stopped. “I feel embarrassed. Technology and me… we are not friends.”

She laughed a bit, and Kate joined in, feeling the tension slip away from her body. Doctor Kapoor always had a way of disarming her at her worst moments.

The Doctor paused to look up at the ceiling, lost in thought, before continuing. “Okay, I think that… yes, you are going to laugh at me, but I think that you are right. I’d like to hypnotize you, and see if we can find out a little more about this vision you recalled last night. If you feel this passionately about your memories, then ignoring them may be just as harmful as trying to remember them. There is an old saying about how amnesia is like a large rock that you must sneak around, rather than run into. Bit by bit, nothing more. Are you okay with that?”

“I guess I’ll have to be,” said Kate.

“You’re in your memory now, Kate. Relaxed and safe from harm, watching yourself like a movie. Tell me about where you are right now.”

“I’m in my car. I’m driving her home. We’re at her house.”

The Doctor began taking notes. “Who are you driving home?”

“Jane.”

“And how do you know Jane?”

“She’s… she’s a girl I know. She works at the cafe. She’s pretty. I like hypnotizing pretty girls.” A smile crept across her blank face. “She’s going under so quickly. So deep.”

“Are you hypnotizing Jane? Tell me more about what is happening.”

“I’m putting the drug into her purse. Telling her when to use it. Telling her… telling her to forget. Sleep and forget. She’s so tired. Went under so easily… because… she’s so tired. Waitresses are always so tired.”

Doctor Kapoor jotted down more notes. “Are you giving her drugs, Kate? What kind of drugs?”

“Special drugs. So I can hypnotize her. That’s why he gave them to me. Make her more open to… suggestion. To help me hypnotize… to make her like me.”

“Did you drug Jane so that you could hypnotize her?”

“No,” she sighed, as if frustrated with Doctor Kapoor’s ignorance. “Not… no, not. Not Jane. He wants Claire. Because she’s smart and pretty, like me. Knows… lots of… people. Important people. She’ll be a perfect slavegirl.”

“Who wants her, Kate? I want you to think about this man. Try to picture his face. His voice. Can you do that? Tell me what you see.”

“He’s older. Very smart. He knows… he knows about drugs. Told me to use it on her. Make her one of… one of us. One of us. A slavegirl. Blank and obedient.”

“You’re relaxed and safe now, Kate. I don’t want to push you. I’m going to bring you out of trance in a moment. Tell me this. Do you feel as if you are this man’s… slavegirl? Yourself?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “I do whatever Doctor Mulroney tells me to do. Blank and obedient. Obedience is truth.”

The Doctor looked wide-eyed at her patient. “Kate. Did Doctor Mulroney, the man who works at this hospital—did he give you drugs? Was he drugging you? Please try to remember. This is very important.”

“Of course. He’s very smart, and very clever. I always obey his commands. He’s always right. She’ll make an excellent slavegirl.”

The doctor eyed the phone on her desk. Her patient was making a serious allegation. All concerns about the reliabilities of memory recall aside, it required the beginnings of a report, perhaps an investigation. “Kate, I want you to relax now, completely relaxed. I’m going to count to three, and you…” She paused, and looked down at her watch. When did I buy… “And you… and you… you’re…”

The pen fell from her hand. Obey.

“You’re going to go deeper into trance, Kate. Three, going deeper. Two, going much, much deeper. One, into a deep hypnotic state, hearing only my voice. Thinking only of my voice. Thinking of nothing but my voice. What do you hear, Kate?”

Kate’s body sagged into the chair. “Your voice,” she said.

“I have just remembered what I must say to you, now that you are in a deep hypnotic trance. You must listen to me carefully.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Call me Disha, Kate. We are friends. You trust me completely, because I care about you. I want to help you. We’re both deeply hypnotized now, deeper and deeper with every breath, listening and obeying. Listening and obeying. Can you do that for me, Kate?”

“Yes, Disha. Listen, and obey.”

“You will call Doctor Mulroney after this session is over, and see him immediately.”

“I will call Doctor Mulroney and see him immediately.”

“You will let him hypnotize you, and take you into a deep trance.”

“Hypnotize me. Deep. Trance.”

“When I snap my fingers, we will both wake up, and remember nothing.”

She nodded slightly. “Remember nothing.”

“Very good, Kate. Now listen to my voice, as I tell you what Doctor Mulroney wants you to remember.”