The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I.

The sign on the outside of the social studies building’s lecture hall read simply, “Hypnosis Demonstration Today @ 2:00PM.”

“Let’s go!” Keri Shepherd said to her roommate of the past two years Sharon O’ Conner about the demo. At the moment they were milling about in the SSB’s hallway waiting for a class to begin. Spring break was just around the corner and the campus was emptying out. There was nothing to do around here at the moment. The undergraduate library was already closed. There weren’t any parties that they knew of. Their dorm was half full and the cafeteria pad locked shut.

No information of any sort had been provided on the notice about who would be giving the demonstration. The sign’s cockeyed placement on the hallway wall suggested the invitation might be an afterthought.

“If it gets boring,” Keri said to Sharon anticipating her objections, “we can always leave. We can always say we wandered into the wrong lecture hall by mistake and get up and leave. We can always say we shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”

Probably given the academic context any sort of cluck-like-a chicken stage hypnosis showmanship of the sort Keri once witnessed in Vegas would be completely absent. More talk than entertainment likely, the “demo” was going to be a dud. Many of the professors around here took themselves far too seriously for it to be genuinely enlivening. They didn’t see it their business to be truly diverting so much as elevating and scholarly.

But on the other hand, you never knew. And fun could be had in the least promising of places if you were willing to wait it out.

In the psychology class they were both enrolled in currently, for instance, the professor, Dr. Schmidt, would talk at length about how hypnosis wasn’t real and that a hypnotized person would just merely be playing along with the hypnotist as more or less a matter of common courtesy.

“We can go and see for ourselves,” Keri said to Sharon thinking that at the very least a trance of some sort would be attempted on somebody. There would be some sort of object for comparison to witness up on stage if only for a short amount of time. Or maybe they could experience it for themselves.

No, no. That last idea was too much for either of them to take. In reality, they didn’t know what they would be getting themselves into. For them hypnosis was either real or fake. And if it was fake like Dr. Schmidt said it was it would be a waste of time to watch. It would be embarrassing to even say that they attended. Let alone participated.

And if it was real they would be subjecting themselves to a power they knew very little about. They would be putting themselves at the disposal of the hypnotist’s whims whoever that might be and without really finding out about their intentions beforehand.

Note to self: change into clean undies before attending ;], Keri texted Sharon that morning prior to meeting up just outside the lecture hall. At the Vegas show she had attended with her brother last year indeed there was featured a bit of impromptu stripping by subjects who should best be served keeping their clothes on. On the other hand, such shenanigans if offered might well be the highlight of the lecture. Maybe not for the victim but for everybody else watching! A person ultimately could only tell how real hypnosis was by watching somebody bent to the hypnotist’s will. They needed to be humiliated if only to prove that they weren’t faking. Or so at least Keri Shepherd felt.

When they arrived the demonstration had seemed to have already started.

Now up on the stage’s proscenium a boy from one of their classes stood with locked legs and hands at his sides. These were so stilled that the slight twitch of his heartbeat could be detected through them from the back of the room.

Glassy-eyed and blanked faced he simply stared straight ahead of him. And so it was that the girls had started to consider whether or not they had missed the demonstration entirely.

They knew that he was the football player who sat in the back of some of their classes and was always in motion even while sitting down. He certainly looked hypnotized at the moment to the girls, if only to compare against the clichéd image of what it meant to be hypnotized.

“It said two o clock right?” Sharon asked Keri sliding her long legs into one of the old hall’s cramped seats. Well, the piece of paper to which she was referring didn’t seem like an official-looking sign anyway and maybe whoever was running this demonstration had just decided to move ahead with their presentation. On the other hand people were still arriving. There were nearly a hundred people in the hall by the time the smartly dressed Asian woman strode to the podium confidently at center stage on three inch onyx heels.

She was around five-five without her Jimmy Choo’s and wore her hair tied back in a bun. The heels encased black stockings that disappeared several inches above the knee where her suede skirt ended. Too well dressed (not to mention sexily dressed) to be a professor at least at this sort of stuffy school nonetheless she strode alone to the podium. If she was bothered by the football player’s presence at the stage’s front she did a masterful job covering it up. She walked right by him as if he was a piece of furniture. Like he had no humanity to him whatsoever. The only conclusion anybody could come to was that she was the one who had done this to him in some fashion. He was on display now for all to see, her property. It was like a deer hunter mounting the head of a six point buck on his den’s wall. It was an advertisement also of her power. To the girls she seemed a different kind of hypnotist than the type they had been reading about in Dr. Schmidt’ class. Or at least that was the way she had wanted to present herself for the purposes of this demonstration.

She introduced herself as Dr. Midori Kurumi. She said she was a scholar of hypnotism.

Majokko, read the first slide of her mercifully short PowerPoint deck presented just prior to the demonstration proper. This according to Dr. Kurumi was another word for female witch in Japanese. She went on to say that female witches in all cultures were born from the ability of certain females to exert hypnotic control over men and other non-talented women whenever they willed it.

“Fact,” said Dr. Kurumi flipping to the next slide with her clicker, “all true hypnotists are either women or girls and are born with this ability. There has never been a male hypnotist who could induce a trance in anything but the most technical sense of the word. But true hypnosis involves mind control. And mind control involves surrendering one’s will to another. That surrender is synonymous with sexual submission and is to be highly sought out by those who realize that this submission the ultimate form of sexual gratification whether we want to admit that this is the case or not.”

For the first time since taking the stage, Dr. Kurumi’s gaze turned briefly to the vacant-eyed football player in front of her.

“Myth number one concerning hypnosis,” she said, “is the notion that a person cannot be hypnotized against his or her will.”

Strangely enough the audience, at least as far as Keri was concerned, was taking it all in stride. This wasn’t the way an academic lecture was supposed to proceed, was it? The football player on the stage didn’t look hurt in any way but neither did he seem in on the joke if this was what this was meant to be. Rather, he seemed utterly pacified, his mind having collided with some superior, unyielding thing so that he seemed to lack the ability to even recognize where he was at the moment. Rigid as he was he didn’t seem tranquilized so much as missing, empty somehow. His wide open eyes gave no hint that an audience was in front of him. Nothing registered with him. And likely it never would unless she who had taken control of him had given him back his autonomy at least temporarily if only so that it could be taken from him again as a cruel joke.

His name was Thad Lewis, Keri now recalled, and he was the backup quarterback at the university’s 8-4 football team. Half Greek and half-German which gave his otherwise Teutonic features a pleasing type of swarthiness in Keri’s eyes. Never having any sort of academic interest at all, rather Thad had been “volunteered” for stage one of this demonstration by Dr. Kurumi as a result of a two minute, deeply one-sided conversation held on this building’s north stairwell where a little bit of privacy might be gained.

“I stopped him and asked him the way to this room,” Midori told her audience who shockingly, at least according to Keri, took it as a laugh line and responded. “And then for the next minute or so once he said he didn’t I did several things to convince him to help me find it. And then we did some more things together for another minute and then we came here. The last words Thad said to me when his mind was his own was ‘I’m not into that stuff.’ Something like that. Something masculine and plain like that. I smiled and told him that was good because it didn’t matter what sort of ‘stuff’ he was into. It didn’t matter whether he was into this ‘stuff’ or not. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do or even if he wanted to resist doing it because very quickly his mind was not his own regardless.”

Dr. Kurumi’s next PowerPoint slide was a picture of a wall with a red x overlaid on top of it.

“The human will is not a static object like a brick wall that can offer resistance to an on-coming force, and can be supported and fortified to suit defensive needs,” Midori said to her audience and scanned their faces for hints of understanding. Because there were so many nods of assent, Keri Shepherd had begun to think that these sorts of lectures were being given all the time around here but to a select group of people. For all they knew she and Sharon were the only newbies in the auditorium. Therefore, all this was being presented for their benefit alone. And Midori Kurumi knew exactly who they were all along.

Midori went on to say that the human will is not an object at all but a verb, an action of the mind. But the mind may be tricked or possessed in so many ways as to turn the will against itself or handed off to another with the simple understanding that it would be better off in the possession of another. Once somebody’s will is handed to another, Midori said, that person becomes the possessor’s property in so many literal ways.

“The type of hypnosis I prefer to use,” she said to her audience, “is more along the lines of a quick brainwashing than the gaining of a type of trance used for therapeutic purposes. And you may ask about the morality of gaining of such control especially amongst either the unwilling or unsuspecting. I answer that by saying that there’s never been a person I’ve hypnotized who wishes later it wouldn’t have occurred. At a later moment I give them the opportunity to speak freely relieved of my control and they say the thing. They claim the experience to be amongst the most fulfilling of their lives. And from the bottom of their hearts they thank me for choosing them.”

Indeed, the only emotion that could be detected in Thad Lewis’ otherwise blank face was the type of religious bliss that one saw demonstrated in cult members often when in the presence of their leader. So it was an open question to the girls whether Thad was a victim at all. To hear it told he had been made to come here against his will. But on the other hand he didn’t seem to be someone who was suffering very much at all at the moment. He didn’t seem in any sort of discomfort at all. He didn’t seem to be struggling against the state that Midori had forced him into.

The way it had happened for him, the way Midori had taken him, was the same way that was being demonstrated now for the gentleman in the embedded video playing in the presentation. Almost nonchalantly, as if she was unaware of what she was doing, there were a series of repetitive patterns being traced on the man’s forearm by Midori Kurumi with one perfect fingernail. In a few seconds she asked the man to explain to her the meaning of the symbol she had traced. She asked him whether or not he was aware enough to speak on this matter

“Ummm,” the man said thickly on the video and stared down at his forearm with suddenly deeply unfocused eyes.

“If you close them,” Midori Kurumi said to him, “You can see it better than if they were wide open. If you close your eyes you can see the symbol forming and un-forming constantly as if I’m moving it around in your mind.”

So it was that control or the initiation of a trance, if that’s what you want to call it, by these soft gestures of hers, asking him to visualize that strange symbol she had created for him proved devastatingly effective. All for him. But whether or not this unknown man could actually look away was irrelevant, Keri realized, because Midori Kurumi had simply never given him the option of doing so. She wanted him to focus on that invisible symbol of hers completely. And soon her voice and its subtly shifting tones was all he ever thought of or considered. He was in a trance and lost in it. He was utterly captivated by her and all that which she now had made him see.

In the video, just as had taken place on the stairwell minutes ago with Thad, Midori had asked her subject what exactly he had felt at the moment.

“I feel like I’m falling,” the man in the video whose face had been obscured all this time by an intentional awkward camera angle told Dr. Kurumi and leaned forward as if on the verge of collapse.

“Falling or flying?” she said to him. “Sometimes falling is just like flying if you don’t worry about the crash to come. In your mind you could hold out your arms and pretend you have the power of flight. There is no end to this flight,” she said. “The pit you are falling into is bottomless. But temporarily I have removed the danger for you.”

This seemed to calm the man in the film who prior to this point had seemed to be fighting his trance. The furrows on his forehead immediately vanished. And just like Thad Lewis, that blissful half-smile came upon the man quickly.

Suddenly Sharon O’ Connor was elbowing Keri in the ribs.

“Oh my God, don’t you know who that is,” she said to her. “It’s Dr. Schmidt! That’s our Dr. Schmidt,” she said. “I recognize him from his purple bow tie!”

Couldn’t have been, Keri Shepherd thought, but then again nothing that was being presented in this lecture conformed even slightly to ordinary reality let alone her limited understanding of hypnosis and what it meant to be hypnotized.

“Here was a gentleman who, prior to my visiting him, just after class didn’t believe that hypnosis was real,” Midori Kurumi said of the man and smiled and in doing so revealed rows of perfect white teeth. “Now we suddenly find ourselves on the same page concerning hypnosis. But as you know, there are particular thralls that one may possess that become useful to you beyond the obvious. There are many people that for reasons known only to them that have a problem with surrendering control. And so it’s good to have them claim to those so gullible to believe them that reality isn’t real.”

Taking the wireless mike in hand, Midori Kurumi walked over to Thad Lewis center stage.

“You are drifting back to the here and now, to the real world which I choose to show you if only for the moment,” Midori Kurumi whispered to him, holding the mike up so others could hear her words. “Lovely boy, you are mine, and will always be mine for as long as I will it. But even puppets have uses apart from dancing on the ends of strings constantly. They need to mimic liveliness every so often if only so that the drama can be more convincing. They need to perform their mistress’s bidding in a convincing enough way to make it seem that this was their choice all along.”

So it was that Dr. Midori Kurumi put the mike down and began to whisper instructions into Thad’s right ear that went unheard by those in the audience. As she whispered her free hand snaked around Thad’s narrow waist then underneath his shirt where it came to rest momentarily on his flat and hard stomach. Soon it started rotating in tight slow circles lightly over his skin which set up a syncopation with the whispered instructions. Thad seemed to melt into her as a result of this contact. He formed his mouth into the shape of an “O” and breathed deep. He seemed on the point of swooning from everything that she was doing to him, everything that she was giving him just then.

Gradually Thad’s eyes gained focused enough so that he was able to move down the steps and into the lecture hall’s audience.

“Volunteers are requested but not required,” Midori Kurumi said ominously to her audience then quickly as she might, caressed herself under her silk blouse. It was a move so brief only Keri had seen it but it couldn’t be explained away as anything else. Public masturbation. In other words, she was getting off on what she was doing or going to be doing to select members of this audience. Keri didn’t think it could be anything else but this. She wasn’t some sort of disinterested academic in the midst of performing an experiment. Rather there was a lustful obsessive quality to her. She was here not out of professional obligation but because this was where she desired to be.

At least for Keri, s taste, Dr. Kurumi was taking way too much pleasure in this spectacle. She couldn’t be this blasé about it hardly for propriety’s sake. It didn’t seem like a situation where she would want to seem this invulnerable for her own sense of well-being.

With her eyes never leaving the stage, Keri Shepherd suggested to Sharon that now might be a good time to leave.

“Let’s get out of here while we still can,” she said to Sharon. As she said it she was unaware to what degree she was joking with her and to what degree she was serious.

But when she saw Thad Lewis out of the corner of her eye stop at their row she knew she was too late with her warning. Sharon O’ Connor was already in the aisle and seeming to drift toward Dr. Midori Kurumi rather than walking. Presently there was nothing she could do but slump down in her chair and wait. If Keri wore a crucifix at the moment she would have removed it from her neck and held it out in front of her like warding off a vampire. No amount of begging and pleading could make this right. And she sensed she wouldn’t be able to find the words if she tried.