The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The start of the fall semester is always teeming with possibilities. I’d been an adjunct professor at the university since I’d graduated and each fall I watched the incoming freshmen arrive on campus full of anticipation. It seemed to me that each semester allowed students to begin a new phase of their lives every fifteen weeks.

With that in mind I had decided to launch a research project of my own lasting fifteen weeks. This fall, one young man would start a new phase of his life he hadn’t planned. He would become—for all intents and purposes—the culmination of my years of study. He would also be much more...

To begin with, however, he would be my research subject.

I was teaching three classes this semester, but it was my course in Psychology and Gender that interested me most. What type of student would enroll in a course dedicated to unraveling the differences in communication and psychology between the genders? And would they be tempted to sign up if they knew one of them would become the greatest living example of my studies?

I had pulled the class roster and begun eliminating possible candidates. Of the eighteen students enrolled, eleven were disqualified because they were female. My study would require a male subject. Then I omitted the seniors, leaving three names. Should I decide to extend my research, I didn’t want my subject graduating this year. After a bit of snooping I deduced I had the perfect candidate to satisfy my requirements.

A junior at the university, he was a performing arts major. Intelligent and creative, he was also very involved in his fraternity. On paper he seemed well-rounded, motivated, and eager. I decided to concentrate my efforts on Nick Phillips.

There was only one thing left to be seen—and that was him. Happily, I discovered on the first day of class that he was also quite attractive—in a blond, beach bum sort of way. He’d be an ideal specimen for my case study.

As the students filed out of my classroom, off to wait in line at the bookstore and read the first chapter I’d assigned (or at least complain about having to and head to a local bar) I made my first move. I felt like some sort of predator stalking his victim. It was rather exciting.

“Mr. Phillips, may I have a word with you?”

A look of surprise colored his tanned face as he approached my desk.

I glanced him over: a T-shirt, board shorts, sandals; typical college boy attire. His blonde hair was plastered to his head, kicking out a bit in front. He tucked his notebook under his arm and looked at me with expectant blue eyes.

I had rehearsed my pitch for several days until it sounded legitimate. “Mr. Phillips, this semester I am planning to take on a student in my class as a research assistant. This student must demonstrate an interest in psychology and gender, and a willingness to learn. He will aid in my research, and receive an extra three credits at the University upon completion of the semester, in an Independent Study capacity.”

I seemed to have captured his interest. Or perhaps it was the extra three credits which appealed to him.

“From what I can gather, you would appear to be the best candidate for this position.”

“What would I have to do?” he asked.

I smiled easily. “Why don’t you stop by my office today at two o’clock? We could discuss the details and see if such an arrangement would benefit us both.”

He shrugged. “Two o’clock. I can do that.”

“I’ll expect you,” I said.

A little before two I was in my office, preparing for my meeting. The office wasn’t grand or impressive, simply a wall of bookshelves, a desk, and a chair facing it. The campus wasn’t excessively large, and the larger offices belonged to professors who’d been teaching much longer than I. At 28, I had only been here a few years, and had grown accustomed to being the youngest professor on campus.

There was a soft knock at the door.

I rose from my desk and opened it.

Nick stood in the hall. He had changed to a polo shirt and combed his hair.

“Come in, Mr. Phillips,” I said.

He smiled apprehensively. “Professor Edwards, call me Nick.”

“As you wish,” I replied, gesturing to the only chair in the office. “Have a seat.”

As he settled into the wingback chair opposite my desk, I closed the door and turned the lock. An interruption would be most unwelcome.

I sat at my desk and looked directly into Nick’s bright blue eyes. “You seem nervous, Nick. Do I make you nervous?”

“No,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’m just not sure what to expect.”

“Why don’t you take a deep breath?”

“What?”

“Go ahead. I find that it helps clear the mind. I’d like to think that this was a relaxed atmosphere. I want all my students to feel relaxed here. I try to put my students at ease. I wouldn’t want to take on an assistant who didn’t feel relaxed here.”

Nick had begun taking deep breaths. I wondered if he’d even realized it.

I slowed my speaking to a low, soothing tone. “See? I’m an easygoing guy. This is a relaxed meeting. I wouldn’t want you to leave here feeling any stress about coming to see me. In fact, all the stress you felt when you came here is slowly melting away. It’s leaving your body. There is no pressure here. Your body feels safe and relaxed.”

Nick’s legs shifted.

“You are completely at ease here with me. Feeling relaxed and safe. Just listen to my voice. It soothes you. It’s so easy to listen to. So easy to just be carried along by my voice as you sit here breathing deeply, relaxing, letting all stress leave your body...”

Nick was beginning to blink rapidly.

“You may feel so relaxed that your eyes want to close, nick. That’s okay. If they want to slide shut, just let them. Don’t try to fight them. Just let the relaxation spread through your body.”

He continued blinking, his eyes opening only halfway.

“Breathing deeply and evenly, Nick. In and out. You feel so relaxed listening to my voice. It pulls you in and makes you feel so at ease. You like this feeling very much. You want to feel this way again. You can. Just keep breathing in and out, feeling so relaxed.”

His eyes slid shut.

“Nick, I am going to continue talking to you. You will hear my voice and it will feel good just to listen to my words. I will ask you a few questions. You will want to answer my questions. You can. In fact, it will feel even more relaxing to answer my questions truthfully. You feel good when you tell the truth. So good answering my questions. Let’s begin with something easy. What is your name?”

“Nick Phillips.” His voice was a monotone.

“How old are you, Nick?”

“Twenty-one.”

Good, he was legal. He looked quite a bit younger. In fact, he could easily pass for a high school student. “What fraternity do you belong to?”

“Theta Omega.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good.”

“Do you like the university?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, have you ever been hypnotized, Nick?”

“No.”

That was good too. No previous suggestions to encounter. “Are you dating anyone, Nick?”

“No.”

Surprising that a handsome guy would be unattached. “Do you date boys or girls, Nick?”

“Girls.”

“So you’ve only had sex with girls...”

“No.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Have you had sex with a man?”

“No.”

“Have you had sex with a girl?”

“No.”

Astounding. “Are you a virgin?”

“Yes.”

This had exceeded my expectations. Nick was a clean slate. I could start immediately.

“But you are attracted to girls?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

That hesitation sealed the deal. Nick was precisely what I was looking for: a prime specimen of young American repressed sexuality. His psychological make-up and its link to his perceived gender roles would provide the ideal landscape for my study.

“I believe that’s enough questions for today, Nick. You came here to find out about a position as my research assistant. You will be that assistant. When you awaken you will recall nothing we’ve discussed. You will believe we talked about the feasibility of your doing an independent study with me this semester. You have just agreed to do it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I leaned forward on my desk.

“Nick, you like this feeling of relaxation very much. You want to feel this way again. And you will. All we need is a trigger...”

I looked him over. He really was cute, his blond, boyish way. I could just see him at the beach.

“Nick, whenever you hear me say Beach Bum you will feel very relaxed. Each time you hear me say Beach Bum you will feel more relaxed than the last. But only when you hear me say Beach Bum. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I am going to count to three. When I reach three you will feel fully alert, relaxed, and refreshed. You will only remember that we discussed your position as my assistant. But whenever I say Beach Bum you will return to this relaxed state. 1...your breathing is returning to normal. 2...you feel relaxed and happy. 3.”

Nick blinked several times. He licked his lips.

“I’m very happy to hear that you’ve agreed, Nick.”

“What?” he asked. “Oh. To be your research assistant.” He sat up straighter and shifted in the chair. “It sounds like a good way to get three credits.”

“Beach Bum.”

His eyelids fluttered.

“Relax, Beach Bum.”

They slowly closed.

“Remember, Nick, each time you hear me say Beach Bum you’ll feel more relaxed than the last. 1...2...3.”

I stood and offered my hand.

Nick slowly got to his feet and shook it.

“Why don’t we begin Wednesday after class?” I suggested.

“That’d be great, Professor Edwards.”

“You may call me by my first name. It’s Damian.”

His eyebrows raised. “Damian?”

I walked to the door, casually flipping the lock before opening it. “Good day, Nick.”

“You too, Damian.”

I watched him walk down the hall.

He should have taken the omen. His new position as Research Assistant would be more than he’d bargained for.

Much more.

Wednesday it took quite a bit of self-control to teach Psychology & Gender, knowing that afterward I would take Nick to my office to begin my “research.”

The theory I was exploring involved sexual attraction being a result of social expectations of conformity to a preconceived norm. Men seek out the opposite gender in order to propagate the species, and also to comply with longstanding beliefs of acceptable behavior. Following that to its logical conclusion, if the expectations were somehow removed from the equation; i.e. the standard practices caused by societal pressure to only allow oneself an attraction to the opposite gender were eradicated from the mind of the subject, wouldn’t a heretofore heterosexual male open his mind and body to both hetero-and homo-sexual desires?

In other words, if a boy like Nick hadn’t grown up being told he should find a girlfriend, would that open him up to the possibility of finding a boyfriend? Today I’d test my theory...

Nick sat sprawled in his desk, in shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals, with a ball cap covering all but a few unruly strands of his blond hair. He was by no means a big guy, perhaps 5′8″, but he had that athletic look that some men have. He would be at ease throwing a ball around with the guys.

I dismissed the class and gathered my papers together. Nick approached my desk.

“When do you want me, Damian?”

Right now, I thought, a grin spreading across my face. “I’m heading to my office now. How’s your schedule today?”

“I have a class at three,” he said. “So I have a couple hours.”

I shut my briefcase. “Perfect.”

Nick was seated across the desk from me in my cramped office. I had locked the door on the way in. Ostensibly I was about to fill him in on his job requirements. In reality I wouldn’t be able to reveal my true objective to him.

“So what’s your research project about?” he asked.

I folded my hands on the desk and took a deep breath, locking gazes with Nick. He, too, took a breath.

“It’s a rather large undertaking, actually. The umbrella would be the connections between psychological control and gender roles.” I took another deep breath, as did Nick, before I continued. “I’m looking into a theory that it is through authority and manipulation that we communicate expected gender responses in the people around us.”

“Oh.” Nick looked nonplussed. His breathing was beginning to parallel mine, slowing as mine slowed.

I leaned back in my chair. So did Nick.

“You see, the dominant culture of any period in history has set up a series of limitations on the ways in which man may acceptably conduct himself in the world around him. Many of these restrictions stemmed from the Darwinian principle of survival of the fittest. Aggressive, stoic men were set up as benchmarks against which all other men were judged. The ‘strong, silent type’ of the movies perpetuated this myth in the twentieth century.”

I nodded. Nick’s head bobbed absently. He was probably not aware that he was mirroring my actions.

“Beach Bum,” I said.

Nick seemed to drift a bit, his arms and legs loosening a bit. His breathing was slow and even, and his eyelids slid about halfway closed.

It was gratifying to see that his trigger worked; this was a good sign for future post-hypnotic suggestions.

I leaned forward. It was time to begin. “Nick, you should be feeling more and more relaxed with each breath. The stress is leaving your body, leaving your mind. You feel safe and warm here. Your entire body is relaxing as you breathe in and out. In and out. How do you feel?”

“Hmmm. Good.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Nick, if your position here is going to work out you are going to have to make a few changes. But you’ll like these changes. In fact, you probably won’t even notice them. You’ll just become more open-minded, to start. Yesterday you told be your basic statistics—name, age, sexual history... Today I’d like to know a bit more about you. Remember that not only must you answer my questions honestly, but each answer makes you feel that much more relaxed. What do you do for recreation, Nick?”

“I go out with the guys... Or go dancing... Or go climbing... Or cycling...” His replies had an almost detached quality, as though he were speaking of someone else. His voice was soft and low.

“Cycling?” I repeated. “You ride a bicycle?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever wear bike shorts?”

“Yes.”

I smiled. This was the perfect way to see what Nick’s body looked like without proceeding too far. I was curious to see what was under those baggy shorts and T-shirts he seemed to favor. Friday’s class... Wait. Classes were cancelled this Friday. I sighed. It’d have to wait until Monday. “Nick, next Monday you will wear your bike shorts to class. You will get up in the morning and dress in your bike shorts. You will then ride your bike to class and then here. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Wear bike shorts.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

“Very good. Don’t forget, Nick.”

He sat there, breathing slowly, his chin resting on his chest.

This was a long weekend before I’d see him again. Which gave him four days off before he’d be back in this chair. My goal for today had been to open his mind to suggestions. Now was my chance to plant seeds for real changes.

“Nick, do you masturbate?”

There was a long pause. “Yes.”

“What do you think about when you masturbate?”

“Girls.”

“Have you ever thought about guys when you masturbate?”

“No.”

“Why do you only think of girls when you masturbate?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must, Nick. There must be some reason you think of girls when you masturbate. What is it?”

“You’re supposed to.”

Bingo. I’m sure my face must have been lit with an evil grin. “Nick, suppose I told you it really wasn’t that way. Suppose I told you that you didn’t have to think about girls when you masturbate. What would you say?”

“What else would I think about?”

“I’m glad you asked that, Nick. You see, it is okay to think about girls when you masturbate. Girls are sexy. But that’s only part of it. You can also think about guys. Guys are sexy, too.”

I watched for a reaction from him, but there was none. He simply sat there breathing and listening, waiting for me to impart more of my theory.

“Nick, when you go home today you will masturbate. And you will think of guys. You will picture their strong arms, their broad shoulder, their toned abs, their hairy legs, their hard cocks. It will excite you, Nick. It will be a new experience for you to think about men and sex at the same time. And the more you think about men the easier it will be to cum. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Is your cock hard now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Thinking about men makes your cock hard, Nick. You will find that each time you masturbate it is more natural to think about men, and more arousing. Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“Breathe in and out. You feel safe and relaxed. And excited. You want to return here on Monday after class. You like being here.”

“Yes,” he said.

I smiled. “Nick, we only have twelve weeks in which to complete this project. Therefore I’m going to have to be very aggressive with you. This week has been about induction and trance deepening. Next week the real work will begin. Monday will be an important day for you. Now when I count three you will awaken. You will remember only that we discussed my research project and will begin actual work on it on Monday. 1...2...3.”

Nick sat up in his chair. He blinked several times.

“Well,” I said, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday. Enjoy your long weekend, Nick.”

He got to his feet and stretched his arms a bit. “Thanks, Damian.”

“Don’t forget to do your homework,” I added.

He grinned and adjusted his cap. “I won’t.”

I returned his grin. I wasn’t referring to the chapter he was required to read. I was looking forward to hearing about his first experience masturbating while thinking about a man.