The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The lights around the bar dimmed; “no going back now,” Grant thought to himself. He knew there was no reason for him to be nervous; he wanted this, but yet, a pit had formed in his stomach.

A voice boomed over the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, for your pleasure, please welcome to the stage, the one, the only, Ms. Guide.” A polite applause echoed through the bar as the stage lights revealed a woman and a row of chairs.

“Hey, how is everyone doing tonight?” The crowd made some noise. “Good. Good. You guys ready to have some fun?” The crowd roared, louder than the before. “Excellent. Now, before we begin the show, can I get a show of hands, who here believes that this is fake in some way or another?”

A few hands in the audience went up. “That’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings, please be honest.” Ms. Guide repeated her question, “who here doesn’t believe that hypnosis is real?” More hands in the audience went up. She climbed off the stage and started walking through the crowd, taking note of those with their hands up. “This is, as you should all be aware, an adult stage hypnosis show. That said, hypnosis is more meditation than mind control; I can’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I promise if you participate you will have the time of your life.”

Grant’s nerves grew as he watched the entertainer saunter through the crowed. Her confidence was intoxicating, even though most of the audience believed her to be a fraud, she was unbothered; Ms. Guide knew the power she held, after all, she had built a career with it.

“If you are interested in participating in tonight’s show, please close your eyes and hold both of your hands out in front of you like this.” Ms. Guide clenched her fists tight and held her arms out straight in front of her as if she were a zombie with an anger issue.

For Grant, this was the true point of no return. He weighed his nerves against his excitement. For as long as he could remember he had fantasized about this moment. His pants tightened at the thought of being subjugated by a powerful woman like Ms. Guide. Grant sat up and pulled his chair under his table. Even though it was dark, and nobody’s eyes were on him, he still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by his erection, by his fetish. The embarrassment almost stopped him from shutting his eyes, but he knew he would regret missing out on this opportunity.

“It was my friend’s birthday the other day and we were throwing her a party,” began Ms. Guide as she strolled through the audience. Though Grant couldn’t quite place his finger on it, something about her voice was different. “Naturally, I was the one in charge and I had delegated a few tasks to my other friends, the ones helping me throw the party. I asked one, Sam, to pick up a few balloons for the party. Now, there’s something you should know about Sam, she’s not the strongest person in the world. Can you imagine, as she took each balloon from the clerk, her hand rose up ever so slightly towards the sky. The more balloons she was handed, the more she felt the balloons pull her hand up into the air. Soon enough, she couldn’t keep her arm down anymore. I’m sure all of you have held a balloon before. I want you to imagine what Sam felt as she held those balloons. As you imagine this, I want you to focus on that feeling, that feeling of lightness in one of your hands.”

Ms. Guide scouted the audience for any raised hands. The people she brought on stage not only had to be suggestible, but also attractive. Fortunately, there appeared to be no shortage of candidates tonight.

“While Sam was out getting the balloons, I had my other friend, Bob, fill a bucket of water for a game we were going to play. As I handed Bob the bucket, he felt the weight of it pull on his hand. He took the bucket around back to the tap and turned it on. Slowly but surely, he heard the water from the tap trickle into the bucket. As it did, the weight of it grew and it pulled on his arm more and more down until, as you can imagine, even Bob, my strongest friend, couldn’t hold it up anymore. You can so easily imagine that happening to yourself. Feel as your one arm is pulled down down down by the bucket while your other arm is pulled up up up by the balloons. You can feel the sensations get stronger as more and more balloons are added and the bucket fills up further and further. I want you to know that it’s okay to feel these feelings; it’s ok to imagine what it felt like for both of my friends; to feel the pull of the balloons in one hand and the weight of the bucket in the other.”

As was to be expected, people reacted differently to the suggestibility test. For some, their hands barely moved, while others were almost pulled out of their chair from the imaginary balloon, only held down by the weight in the other hand.

One subject caught her eye immediately. A timid looking boy trying to hide himself in the back corner of the bar. She had her first subject. “In a moment I’m going to begin selecting people to go onstage. If you feel me touch your arm, I want you to imagine yourself releasing your balloons. Allow yourself to feel the weight of your bucket throughout your body. Let it drag you down into a deep relaxing trance.”

Ms. Guide lightly touched the back of Grant’s raised hand as she whispered “sleep,” in his ear. Grant collapsed, slumping over in his chair, had Ms. Guide not been there to catch him he would have almost certainly fell onto the floor. His head rested on her voluptuous breast as she guided him deeper down.

Grant awoke onstage. A sea of faces looked up at him and the others who accompanied him. “Let’s give our brave volunteers a round of applause, shall we?” said Ms. Guide. The audience cheered. “Now, another show of hands. Who here thinks that they’re hypnotized?” Grant and another girl raised their hand, but the rest of the participants were either unsure or in denial. Ms. Guide addressed the closest to her, “Hi, what’s your name?” she asked her.

“Amy,” replied the twenty-something, plainly.

“And you don’t think you’ve been hypnotized?” questioned Ms. Guide.

Amy shook her head, “No.”

“Interesting, if that’s true, why is it that when I touch your forehead like this,” Ms. Guide reached out and lightly tapped her on the forehead. As if a switch was flicked, Amy collapsed into the lap of the woman next to her. “you drop back down into trace?”

The audience let gasp of astonishment. Grant sat up in his chair and pulled his shirt forward to try and hide his growing erection from anyone who might be looking at him.

“Does anyone still believe they’re not hypnotized?” asked Ms. Guide. Despite the interaction they had just seen, some raised their hands again. One at a time, Ms. Guide walked over to them, tapped them lightly on the forehead, and sent them back down into trance. The audience laughed as the last one lowered his hand in a futile attempt to stop her from taking him back down. Just like those before him, he collapsed in his chair when her finger met his forehead.

Ms. Guide stood in front of Grant, “what’s your name, hun?”

“Grant,” he replied.

“You guys are carding people, right?” Ms. Guide asked someone off stage, “How old are you, Grant?”

“I turned eighteen a couple days ago.”

“Oh, happy birthday.” She turned towards the others onstage, “everybody, wish Grant a happy birthday.” Those who had been put back under sat up in their chair and wished him a happy birthday in unison. The audience let out a quick chuckle. Ms. Guide couldn’t help but notice Grant’s cock twitch.

“Well, well, well. Is there something you’d like to share with the class?” asked Ms. Guide.

Grant’s face went beet red, but he didn’t respond to the question. He hoped that if he ignored it, she’d move on.

“You wanna do one?” She asked him, rhetorically. “Make a gun with your hand.” Grant held up his hand with his index finger and thumb extended. “Aim it at one of the others, someone still awake, and fire when ready.” She held the mic in front of Grant’s face.

Grant made a sound effect and lowered his thumb. The girl collapsed in her chair as if Ms. Guide had knocked her out herself. The audience laughed again as a smile formed on Grants face. Ms. Guide gestured to continue. Grant continued down the line, until it was just him and the hypnotist awake onstage.

“Now, put it to your temple.” He raised his hand and pressed the tip of his finger against his head. “and pull the trigger.” The sound of laughter quickly faded from his ears as Grant fell off his chair, plunging deeper down into trance.

“Three… wake up,” said Ms. Guide. As if a cold bucket of water was just poured on him, Grant’s head sprung up off of the floor. He looked back towards the others onstage, some of the chairs were now empty but those that remained looked like they too had just been pulled back out of trance. He grabbed a hold of his chair and awkwardly took his seat. “How do you guys feel? good?” asked Ms. Guide.

The participants exchanged glances with each other and nodded their heads. “Relaxed,” said one of the girls.

“That’s good, I want to thank you all for coming up on stage and putting on a show for all of us,” commented Ms. Guide.

Grant watched as the others onstage stood up from their chairs. Music began to play over the venue’s speakers as they all began to dance. He watched as the women gyrated their hips back and forth to the rhythm, shaking their asses for the audience. Grant shifted in his chair as he watched the women’s hands grab at their chests, pushing up their breasts to accentuate their cleavage.

Once again Grant tried to hide his erection from the audience by shifting back in his seat. However, this time, he found the opposite happening. His hands pushed him up and off his chair to his feet, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. He yelled at the top of his lungs “Ms. Guide’s show is making me hard!”

The audience exploded with laughter. Their attention pulled away from the others onstage and focused directly on Grant. He quickly dropped back down into his seat, flush with embarrassment. That explained why he wasn’t up there dancing with the others; Ms. Guide had other plans for him.

The music stopped and dancers returned to their seats, unaware of what had just happened. Ms. Guide approached Amy “So, do you still doubt that you’ve been hypnotized?”

“Of course,” replied Amy.

“If I were to ask you to do something, say, shake your ass for the crowd, would you do it?”

Amy scoffed, “absolutely not”. The audience laughed at her response.

“That’s not going to be a very entertaining show for all these people.”

She shrugged; it wasn’t her fault that they had paid to see a fraud.

“So, you won’t do anything I ask?” Ms. Guide questioned. “Not even something mundane? Amy, stand up from your chair.” Amy remained firmly planted in her seat. “Okay, if you don’t want to participate, Amy, please get off the stage and return to the audience.” Once again, she didn’t move. “Now you’re just being difficult for the sake of it. Fine, Amy, just sit there then.” The audience laughed as Amy stood up in defiance. “If you want to just stand there Amy, and show the crowd your pretty face, I guess that’s fine with me.” Amy quickly turned to face the back of the stage. Ms. Guide’s control over the young woman was obvious now. “Amy, remain standing straight up.” She bent over her chair and stuck her ass out to the audience. The fabric of her leggings left little to the imagination as they stretched around her curves.

One of the other women on stage said loudly, “She’s got a nice ass.”

Ms. Guide approached the woman who just had an outburst. “What was that, Chloe?”

Chloe looked back at her confused, “I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Never mind,” replied Ms. Guide. She refocused her attention back on Amy, she wasn’t done with her quite yet. “Amy, don’t continue to slap your ass until I tell you to stop.”

Amy’s hand reached around raising up in the air for a moment before coming down hard. The smack reverberated throughout the room.

“And you’re sure that I don’t have any control over you?” asked Ms. Guide one final time.

“No, of course not,” replied Amy as another smack rang out through the venue.

“Fine, I’ll leave you be,” assured Ms. Guide.

With each slap it became harder and harder for Grant to ignore what was going on. He felt his body lift itself up and out of the chair once more, where he loudly proclaimed, “Ms. Guide’s show is making me hard!” This time the others on stage took note of Grant.

“Oh my god, he’s actually hard,” exclaimed Chloe.

Grant had never been so embarrassed. A room full of people were staring at his erection and laughing at him. Once he regained control of his body, he quickly sat back down in his chair and tried to fade into the darkness at the end of the stage.

Chloe tried to slyly examine the other man on stage, to see if it was just Grant that was aroused. Her efforts to do so unnoticed were thwarted when she announced “I hope that’s not hard” for the amusement of audience.

“It’s good to know that at least one of you is having a good time, but I promised all of you the time of your life and I don’t go back on my promises,” said Ms. Guide before snapping her fingers. Those onstage jolted up in their chair at the sound. They exchanged glances with one another, unsure of what had just happened.

Ms. Guide snapped her fingers once more. Again, the performers lurched in their chair. Grant felt the waves of erotic pleasure wash over him growing stronger with each command given. Though he had tried before, he had never been fortunate enough to experience this so vividly. He knew what was coming, there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop it.

Grant sprung to his feet for the third time. “Ms. Guide’s show is making me hard!” He announced once again. However, this time instead of returning back to his seat, he stood there. He felt a numbness climb quickly up his legs, through his chest, out to his arms, and into his head. He was frozen, stuck displaying his manhood to everyone to see.

Ms. Guide made sure everyone had taken notice of Grant before continuing. The snaps came faster and harder now, each one hitting those mesmerised like a jolt of electricity. Grant couldn’t help but watch as the others writhed around in their chairs. Their hands absentmindedly wandering closer and closer to what lay between their legs. They had all either forgotten where they were, or they simply no longer cared.

Ms. Guide held the microphone in front of Chloe as her hands rubbed her crotch over her jeans. “Oh, my god, I’m so fucking wet,” she moaned. Ms. Guide placed a hand on her knee. Chloe’s thrust her legs apart as her moans grew louder; the microphone was no longer necessary for even those in the back of the bar to hear her. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming,” Chloe repeated, as the crowed cheered louder and louder.

Grant could feel the words stuck in his throat. He knew that if he were allowed to move at all, he would once again tell everyone about his cock. The words were truer now more than ever.

Ms. Guide stomped her foot on the stage. The lot of them stopped squirming and looked around the room embarrassed. “How do you feel, Chloe?” Asked Ms. Guide. Exhausted, Chloe only responded with an exhale.

“Glad to see you’re still enjoying the show, Grant,” goaded Ms. Guide. He was helpless to respond. “I wonder,” she placed her index finger on her chin, “are you still embarrassed? We all know you’re hard, but you don’t have the same colour in your face anymore. Is that just because all that blood is somewhere else?” She laughed, as she drew closer to him.

Ms. Guide moved his motionless body into various positions, demonstrating to the audience that he was, in fact, immobile. She took a step back to admire her work, Grant was posed like a superhero: his hands on his hips, legs shoulder width apart, and his chest puffed out. “Something’s not right,” she admitted. Ms. Guide raised her finger in the air for a moment before grabbing hold of Grant’s pants and firmly yanking them down to his ankles. A bead of precum sat on the tip of Grant’s exposed penis, glistening in the stage lights.

Instinctively, he tried to reach down to pull his pants back up or to at least cover himself up with his hands, but his body didn’t react. Grant stood there, hands on his hips thrusting his erect cock out for everyone to see. A brief moment of silence fell over the room, which was quickly broken by Chloe as she spoke, still catching her breath, “wouldn’t kick him outta bed.”

The audience erupted in a mixture of clapping, wooing, and laughter.

Ms. Guide grabbed one of the empty chairs and placed it in the center of the stage. “Now that you’re more comfortable, Grant, come sit in this chair. The rigidity in his legs faded as they carried him to his new seat. He tried to fight it, to run off stage away from the prying eyes of the crowd, but he was powerless.

“I must say, Grant, I’m a little impressed. You’ve managed to stay hard, this entire time. Even when you were deep down in trance, your little friend there was always standing at attention, just begging for me to take control. I know you look embarrassed, and I know you feel embarrassed, but deep down I know you love what’s happening to you. You’ve fantasized about exactly this for as long as you’ve been fantasizing about anything. Being forced to put yourself on display for an audience, powerless to stop what your body is doing, no matter how much you may think that you want to. Do you know how I know all of this?”

Ms. Guide held the microphone up to his mouth, but he was still frozen, unable to answer.

“Oh, of course. I, we all know this because you told us. I’ll admit, this wasn’t quite the show I had planned for tonight, but after I saw your throbbing cock at full mast as you walked to the stage, well, plans change. You and I had a nice, long chat after I had got everyone else up on stage. You told us all about your fetishes and your fantasies. I hope they’re living up to your expectations.

Grant’s cock twitched as a bead of precum, rolled down his shaft.

“I’ll take that as yes,” smirked Ms. Guide. “But we both know that this experience isn’t over for you. We both know that there’s more to this fantasy.” She bent down beside him. Grant could feel her warm breath on his skin. “Playmate,” she whispered in his ear.

The numbness in Grant’s arms vanished. His hand tightly griped his cock as he began to stroke himself. He forced his eyes shut and tried to imagine that he was just at home, that nobody could see what he was doing, but the cheers from the crowd made it impossible. There was no denying it, this was happening.

Ms. Guide stood behind him, snapping to the rhythm that he had set with each pump of his fist. “You must already be so close, but you know, like a good pet, you don’t do anything without your owner’s permission. What do you guys think, should we let him cum?” She looked out to the audience. The few yeses in the audience, were drowned out by the noes.

“Looks like you’re going to need to try harder to convince them. Show them what a good little slut you are. Stroke faster” she said punctuating it with another snap of her fingers. “Stroke harder. Grip tighter. Faster. Harder. Tighter”, she repeated, reinforcing each with a snap of her fingers.

Grant’s knuckles shone bright white as they wrapped firmly around his aching cock. His wrist burned as it worked hard to keep up with each new command to go faster.

A cacophony of moans had begun behind him. The others on stage seemed to be enjoying the snaps just as much as he had, or was it the other way around? He strained to turn his head around, to accept the small consolation of watching the others experience the sexual relief he had been denied. Chloe’s now familiar voice rang throughout the crowd. “I’m cumming,” she announced again.

Grant ached, the pressure in his balls had crossed over from pleasurable into painful. He needed release. He needed permission. To his own surprise, he found himself yelling, pleading for the privilege to cum. “Please? I’m a good little slut. Please can I cum? Please? Can I cum please?” Ms. Guide ignored him. With each passing second, his cries grew more desperate. “I’m begging you. Please can I cum?”

“What do you guys think? Does he deserve it?” Asked Ms. Guide.

The crowed clapped and cheered.

“Okay, slut. I’m going to count down. When I tell you to cum, show all of us what a good pet you can be. These people have paid good money to see you, I can’t have you embarrass me by leaving them disappointed. Three.” Ms. Guide continue to snap her fingers.

“Thank you,” repeated Grant under his breath absent-mindedly.

Ms. Guide continue her countdown, “allow yourself to experience all your deepest, darkest fantasy has to offer. Two.”

The crowd was deafening. Had it not been for the microphone, there would have been no chance he heard Ms. Guide finish her countdown, “one. Come hard for us now.”

As if someone had popped a cork, Grant felt the rush of hot sticky liquid erupt from the tip of his cock. He smiled as the warmth fell onto his stomach and lap. Grant felt his cock soften in his hand as he continued to stroke himself for the audience. His eyes grew heavier as his head slumped over. The pain in his arm dissolved away, all that remained was the pleasure he felt as he sat in the center of the stage.