The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Phil Cordero shook his head. How was he going to deal with his daughter?

Angie had blossomed into a strikingly pretty—and strikingly well-endowed—young woman over the past year. Unfortunately, she didn’t act like a young woman.

It had started with her mother’s death last year. Angie hadn’t taken it well. She had refused to accept what had happened, and over the next few months she had regressed into using a kind of baby talk which disturbed not only her father but the kids and teachers at school. Her grades had fallen off a cliff and there’d been a couple of fights in the girls’ room which had left Angie crying like the little girl she seemed to have become. Finally he’d had to take her out of school. Now she stayed at home, refusing even to try to study, watching TV and reading children’s books she’d set aside years ago.

She hadn’t regressed in every way, though. She liked to dress up in her mother’s clothes, and Maria Cordero had been a very sexy woman who’d favored short skirts, tight blouses and leggings, and glossy high-heeled shoes. Angie was looking more and more like her every day, it seemed, and there were times these days when he caught himself looking at her . . . ! He hoped she hadn’t noticed, or that if she had her regressed condition kept her from understanding.

Angie Cordero smiled as she turned off the TV. She’d been watching a talk show that came on right after one of her favorite cartoons. Most times they were boring, but this one had held her attention. A lady had come on and she had called a couple of men up from the audience, swung some kind of shiny thing on a chain in front of their eyes and talked to them, telling them to watch the shiny thing, and keep their eyes on it, and relax, and do whatever she said until she told them to wake up—and they’d done it! She’d told one of the men to believe he was a bench, and he’d gotten down on all fours and she’d sat down on his back for a minute talking to the audience like nothing was happening before she got up and told him to stand up too and remember he was a man. She’d made the other one think he was sweeping the floor and he’d gone all around the stage making sweeping motions until she told him to stop. After that, she’d told each of them she was going to wake him up but he was supposed to think he’d only been pretending. Then she had given each one something silly to do after they woke up but told them not to remember she’d told them to do it—and they’d done that too! It was like magic!

Angie couldn’t help wondering if she could do it too. If she could, maybe she could make Daddy do things she wanted, let her do things she wanted to that he’d said no to, and maybe make him not remember she’d done it because he might get mad if he knew.

She smiled. All she needed was a shiny thing on a chain like the lady on TV had had, and then if she could get Daddy to look at it while she swung it back and forth, back and forth, and said the right words, maybe the magic would work for her too. If it didn’t—Angie had a flash of cunning—she could just tell Daddy she’d been pretending to do what the TV lady had done, and he’d probably laugh and not think about it anymore.

But where would she get the shiny thing? Angie thought and thought, and suddenly she remembered that Daddy had kept all of Mommy’s jewelry after she’d—Angie’s mind shied away from a scary word—gone away. Maybe Angie can find something good in Mommy’s stuff, she told herself.

Phil heard odd noises coming from upstairs, as though someone were rummaging through the dresser in the bedroom. He climbed the stairs and met Angie in the hallway. “What were you doing up here, young lady?” he asked.

Angie smiled, bright blue eyes wide and innocent. “Angie was just looking through Mommy’s things,” she answered, “looking for something pretty to wear. Angie remembers she had lots of pretty things.”

“Yes, she did,” her father answered, remembering. The smile faded. “But Angie, you’re not supposed to go through Mommy’s things. They’re very private, for me to remember her by. They don’t belong to you, and you’re not supposed to take things that don’t belong to you. It’s bad.” He hated having to talk to his teenage daughter as though she were a little girl, but that was the only way to get through to her these days. If only that damn shrink had been able to help . . . !

“But Daddy,” she protested, “Angie found something really nice! Just look!” She held up her prize, a jeweled pendant on a chain meant to loop around the neck. Angie was holding it between two fingers, the pinched so that the ornament hung from only a short length of chain, just enough to let the shiny jeweled swing back and forth, back and forth, reflecting the light from the overhead lamp as it moved back and forth, back and forth. Phil blinked, but his eyes began to follow the motion.

Angie saw, and smiled. It was working, just like it had for the TV lady! Now for the words she needed to say.

Phil blinked. Something was swinging in front of his eyes. Glints of light were coming off it, making it hard to see anything but the swinging . . . whatever it was . . . in front of him. There seemed to be a trail of light following it, forming an arc as it swung back and forth, back and forth. It hurt his eyes a little, but somehow he couldn’t look away; his eyes just kept following the motion, back and forth, back and forth.

“That’s right, Daddy,” murmured Angie. “Just follow the pretty pendant with your eyes, follow it back and forth, back and forth, Angie knows the shiny-shine off it hurts your eyes a little, makes you want to blink, makes you want to just relax and close your eyes, but you need to follow it back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth, Daddy, back and forth. Keep watching the pendant as it swings back and forth,” She knew she was taking longer than the lady on TV had, but she’d never done this before, and besides, the TV lady only had to make it work for a little while. She wanted to make it work forever.

“I know the shiny flashes from the pendant hurt your eyes. Angie knows they make your eyelids feel heavy, so heavy, so that you just want to close your eyes, relax and close your eyes and keep on listening to Angie.” And her daddy’s eyes were starting to close. Angie could see that he was blinking, fighting to keep them open. Fighting and losing, little by little.

“So-o-o heavy, Daddy,” Angie went on. “Your eyes are so heavy, you need to close them now, they’re closing now. They’re closed.” Phil Cordero’s eyes dropped shut. “Your eyes are closed now, Daddy. You don’t see the pendant anymore, Daddy. You don’t see anything, because your eyes are closed.” She took a breath. “But you can still hear Angie, Daddy. Tell Angie if you can still hear her voice.”

“Yes, Angie,” Phil answered. “I can still hear . . . your voice.”

“That’s good,” purred the bewitching brunette. “That’s very good, Daddy. You need to be able to hear Angie’s voice, because right now Angie’s words are your thoughts. Right now, you think what Angie says to think, do what Angie tells you to do. Do you understand, Daddy?”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil nodded slowly. “I understand. Angie’s words . . . are my thoughts. I think . . . what Angie says to think. I do . . . what Angie tells me to do.”

“That’s good, Daddy.” Angie clapped her hands lightly. Phil Cordero didn’t react. “Now, Daddy, open your eyes and follow Angie.” She needed her daddy to be able to see where he was going. She didn’t want him to trip and maybe hurt himself. Or worse, wake up. She led her dazed daddy down the hall and into his bedroom. He had a nice big double bed he’d shared with her mommy before . . . ! Again, Angie’s mind skittered away from a bad thought.

“Sit down, Daddy,” she commanded. She patted the bed and Phil Cordero sat. He turned his face upward toward Angie’s and waited.

“You want Angie to be happy, don’t you, Daddy.” It was not a question.

“Yes,” Phil answered. “I want Angie . . . to be happy.” That much was true even when Phil wasn’t hypnotized.

“Then you’ll do anything Angie says.” Angie began swinging the pendant again, back and forth, back and forth. Her father’s eyes locked onto it and followed the motion. “You’ll believe anything Angie tells you, because you trust Angie and you know she would never do anything bad. Anything Angie does is good. Anything Angie says is good. You trust Angie completely.”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil nodded, his eyes following the back-and-forth movement of the pendant as his head bobbed up and down. “I trust Angie . . . completely.”

Now, his daughter mused, what should Angie make Daddy do? Her face brightened. She laughed softly. Angie knows!

“Daddy,” she said, “Angie is going to go downstairs to her room now. As soon as Angie goes away, you’ll wake up. You won’t remember anything about Angie showing you the nice shiny pendant from Mommy’s stuff, or about what happened after that until Angie went away, but it won’t bother you that you don’t remember, because you won’t even notice you forgot anything. It’s not important to remember that you forgot.” She giggled at how the words had come out. “You’ll come downstairs too and watch some TV.”

“But Daddy,” she continued, “in a little while Angie is going to ring a bell. When you hear the bell ring, you will believe you’re a butler, and you’ll come to find out what Angie wants. You’ll do anything Angie says then, Daddy, and it will seem perfectly natural to you because that’s what butlers are for.”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil nodded. “Perfectly natural.”

“That’s good, Daddy.” Angie smiled. She turned and left the room.

Phil Cordero went downstairs. Whatever the noises he’d thought he’d heard might have been, he didn’t hear them anymore. He went into the kitchen, got himself a beer and came into the living room to sit and watch TV for awhile.

He was just finishing the beer when he heard a bell tinkle. It sounded like one of Angie’s toys, he thought.

The young mistress needs me, he thought next. He set his beer down on the low table in front of the couch and got up.

Angie smiled as her daddy came into her room. He’d answered the bell just as she’d told him to do.

“You rang, Mistress Angie?” Her daddy stood stiff and ruler-straight, arms at his sides, plainly awaiting orders.

“Yes, Philip,” answered Angie. That was her daddy’s real name, she knew, even though he and Mommy had never used it much at home. “Angie wants you to bring her a ham sandwich with lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise, and a Coke. Bring them to Angie on a tray and leave the tray.”

“Yes, Mistress Angie. Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, Philip.” Angie nodded. “After you bring Angie her sandwich and soda, go back into the living room.” Angie knew that was where her daddy had been because she could hear the TV. It was still on. “Sit down on the couch. Then you must forget all about being a butler. You must remember sitting in front of the TV and kind of falling asleep, because that’s what really happened.”

“Yes, Mistress Angie.” Without another word, Philip the butler turned and left. A few minutes later he returned with a sandwich and a canned Coke on a round tray from the kitchen cupboard. He bowed and set the tray down carefully on the bed next to where Angie was sitting. Then, without another word, he marched away.

Angie laughed softly. It had worked! Daddy had done just what she’d told him to. She didn’t know for sure whether he’d forgotten about playing butler, but after everything he’d done so far, she’d bet he had.

She thought a little. Maybe it would be fun to have him play butler again. Maybe even a lot. And maybe she could make him buy a costume for when he did. She could have him put it in his closet, forget he’d bought it and just not notice it until she asked him to be her butler again.

Angie was feeling restless.

She didn’t know quite what was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to settle down. She kept thinking about boys. About—she shivered at the naughty word—sex!

She remembered that Daddy and Mommy sometimes used to do things together in the big bed. She’d hear them sometimes, when she was little and she’d slept upstairs down the hall from them, and once when they’d left the door a little way open by mistake she’d peeked though and seen them moving together under the blankets. She’d only figured out a long time later that they’d been having sex, and what that meant.

That was what she wanted!

But how? Daddy didn’t let her anywhere near any boys. He hardly let her go anywhere unless he was with her. Mostly she didn’t mind; lots of places were noisy and kind of scary. But then how could she do what she wanted?

A wicked thought came to her. Daddy was a guy. He was older, and not really very handsome, but she already knew he liked looking at her that way, even though he tried to hide it because daddies weren’t supposed to like their daughters like that. And she already knew how to make him do things she wanted that he would never ever do by himself, and even how to make him forget stuff she didn’t want him to remember. She smiled, picturing the butler suit in his closet that he didn’t remember buying and never even noticed there unless she showed him her special pendant and told him to play butler. And she had to admit that knowing that doing what she was thinking about doing was very naughty and might get her in trouble if she got caught was kind of exciting. It didn’t occur to her that it would get her daddy in a lot more trouble.

But how could she do it? The butler game was one thing, but Angie knew sex was different. Daddy might not even do it with her even if she used the pendant. It would be very naughty, after all. Daddies weren’t supposed to do grown-up things with their daughters. After learning she could hypnotize her daddy, Angie had gone on the computer to find out more. A lot of the stuff she’d found had been full of big words she didn’t understand, but some places had made more sense to her, and they all said you couldn’t hypnotize somebody to do something they really, really would never ever do, no matter what, when they weren’t hypnotized. But some of them said that hypnotized people were easy to trick into doing things like that by making them think they were doing something else. And Angie had noticed the way Daddy looked at her once in awhile and then pretended he hadn’t.

That gave Angie an idea.

“Look at the pendant, Daddy,” Angie murmured. “Watch it swing back and forth back and forth. Let everything go away except for the shiny, swinging pendant going, back and forth, back and forth, and Angie’s voice. Just relax and keep watching the pendant swing back and forth, back and forth, relax and listen to Angie, let Angie tell you what’s true and what’s real. . . .” She went on, watching as her daddy sank deeper and deeper into trance.

At last she decided he was ready. She guided him into the bedroom and gently pressed him down until he was sitting on the bed, looking up at her. “Just stay right there, Daddy,” she instructed. “Angie has a surprise for you.”

She stepped out into the hallway and walked to the other end, where the bathroom was. But she didn’t go in there; instead, she turned to the right and opened the hall door next to it. She went inside.

This used to be Angie’s room, a long time ago, the black-haired beauty remembered. Mommy used to come and tuck Angie in. There was still a bed, neatly made. There were a dresser and a closet too. On the bed were some clothes, some of Mommy’s things: tight black pants, white halter top, white shoes with pointy toes and five-inch heels. Angie had tried them on and knew everything fit, except that the halter was a little tight; Angie’s boobs were bigger than Mommy’s.

She left the room and went into the bathroom. There was a tall mirror there that Mommy had used to check herself out after she took a shower. Looking at her reflection, Angie nodded. As she’d thought, she looked a lot like Mommy now.

Satisfied, she went back down the hall to the bedroom. Her daddy was still sitting on the bed, his face turned up; it was like he hadn’t even noticed she’d gone away.

Angie lifted the pendant off over her head very carefully, held it where her daddy could see it and started it swinging back and forth again. Phil Cordero’s eyes locked on, following the motion.

“Phil, darling,” she said, imitating the grown-up way her mommy used to talk, “listen to me very carefully.”

“Maria?” Eyes still following the pendant’s swing, Phil Cordero spoke up, sounding confused. “Is that you?”

Angie smiled wickedly. It was working! Daddy missed Mommy so much that he wanted to believe she was here, wanted to believe she wasn’t—again Angie’s mind shied away from a scary word—gone, so when he was like this, under the pendant’s spell, she could trick him into thinking she was Mommy, at least for a little while. And after, she could tell him to forget all about what had happened, and he would, just like he always forgot about playing butler.

“I know you’ve missed me,” Angie went on, staying in character. “But I’m back now. And I’ve missed you too.” She stopped swinging her pendant, tucked it away and smiled down at her dazzled daddy. She bent down and kissed him on the head. Then she bent a little more and kissed him right on the mouth.

By mindless reflex, Phil reached up and pulled her down to him. “Maria,” he moaned. His hands slid up her back, under her halter top.

Angie, breathing hard now, thought she knew what was supposed to happen next. But there was something she wanted to fix first.

“No, silly,” she scolded. “My name is Angie. Don’t you know your own daughter’s—your own wife’s name?” She sucked in her breath sharply as she realized what she’d said. She might have ruined everything! But after a moment she relaxed. Her daddy hadn’t noticed her boo-boo.

“Ohh, yes,” her daddy moaned. “Yes, Angie, yes! Underneath her halter, Phil Cordero’s hands clutched at her back.

Feverish with feelings she’d never had before, Angie reached to pull the halter over her head. There was some resistance at first as she pulled it up over her daddy’s clutching hands, but once it had gotten past that it came off easily. She tossed it aside. Underneath there was nothing but flesh; Angie hadn’t been wearing a bra. She didn’t like them and so hadn’t put one on even when she’d dressed up to pretend to be Mommy.

Phil gaped at her bare breasts, clearly enjoying the view even through his trance. Some part of his mind registered that those boobs seemed bigger than he remembered. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that his beloved wife, his Angie, was here with him. He pulled her down to him, pressing her rack against his face. He couldn’t breathe, and it was wonderful.

More clothes came off after that, Phil’s as well as Angie’s. when the two of them were both naked, Angie spoke. “Pick Angie up,” she commanded. “Pick Angie up and put her on the bed, then lie down next to her and she’ll tell you what to do next.”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil obeyed.

Angie lay on her parents’ big bed, smiling. Beside her lay her daddy, unaware of anything but her and waiting for her to tell him what to do next. She was sure he would do it now that he thought she was Mommy. She did like, though, that she’d been able to trick him into thinking Mommy had the same name as her; it had felt funny to have him call her by Mommy’s real name.

But it was time for the next part, the really fun part.

“Phil darling,” she cooed, “I want you. And you want me, too, don’t you? It’s been such a long time since we’ve had sex. I can’t wait anymore! And neither can you, Phil.” She paused, gasping, and then went on feverishly, “You have to do it with Angie! You have to do it now, and keep doing it until Angie says to stop.” In her excitement, she’d forgotten she was pretending to be her mommy and reverted to the childish way of speaking she usually used.

“Yes, Angie,” Phil Cordero moaned. He reached for her and they moved together. He entered her; she gasped in surprise, then cried out in pleasure. Her body knew what to do after that. Presently there was a final shattering blast of ecstasy and Angie collapsed. She had just enough sense to call out, “Stop, Daddy!”

It didn’t work. After a steamy second or two Angie realized why. “Stop, Phil,” she called out, and this time he did stop, pulling out of her and rolling over onto his back. She’d been calling him Phil, not Daddy, when she’d given him that suggestion, and his hypnotized mind hadn’t connected the two. Wow, she thought, Angie keeps forgetting people are kind of dumb when they’re hypnotized. If you want to get them to do stuff, you have to tell them just right, because they do just what you say, not what you wanted to say.

Angie lay there for a few minutes, recovering. She had the feeling that she could easily go to sleep now.

She didn’t let herself do it, though. Instead she got up, stretched a little and looked down at her daddy where he lay, still in trance but with a smile on his face. She couldn’t just leave him like that; he’d wake up sometime and be really upset that he was naked and couldn’t remember how come. And she didn’t want Daddy to be upset. She loved him, after all.

She thought a bit. She needed to bring Daddy back awake, so the first thing to do was make him get dressed. She told him to, and he did.

“Phil,” she continued once her daddy had finished putting his clothes back on, “your wife’s name is Maria, not Angie, and she’s . . . not here. Angie is your daughter.” As she spoke, she concentrated hard to keep talking the way Mommy used to talk. It gave her a headache.

“Wife’s name is . . . Maria,” Phil Cordero mumbled. Angie is . . . my daughter.”

“That’s right, Daddy,” Angie responded. “Angie is your daughter. Now close your eyes, and when you open them you will see Angie. I’m Angie, Daddy. Now close your eyes until Angie says to open them.”

Phil Cordero closed his eyes and waited.

Angie thought some more. She was going to wake her daddy up now, but there were a couple of things she needed to take care of before she did.

“Open your eyes now, Daddy.” Angie’s father opened his eyes. “Who do you see?”

“Angie,” he said. “I see Angie. I see my daughter Angie.”

“Yes, that’s right,” agreed Angie. “But you did see Mommy, didn’t you, Daddy.”

“I, I . . . but she’s . . . !” Phil faltered. “Yes, Angie. I did see her.”

“And you had fun together, didn’t you? Grown-up fun.” Angie smiled mischievously.

“Yes, Angie.” He frowned. “Mustn’t let Angie know. She’s too young. She wouldn’t . . . understand.”

Angie laughed softly. Daddy didn’t realize he’d just told her he wasn’t supposed to tell her about Mommy and him having grown-up fun.

Now for the other thing, Angie thought. She had needed way too long to hypnotize Daddy. She needed a quick way. And the stuff she’d seen on the computer had given her an idea for one. She held up her mommy’s pendant in front of her daddy again and started it swinging gently. The light from overhead flashed off it into his eyes and he began following its motion again, back and forth, back and forth. . . .

“Daddy,” she said, “keep your eyes on the pendant, that’s right, and listen to Angie. Angie needs you to do something for her. Angie needs you to do something important.”

“Yes, Angie,” her fixated father replied. His eyes went back and forth, back and forth, pulled along by the swing of Angie’s pendant. “Something . . . important.”

“That’s right, Daddy. Something important.”

Angie tucked the pendant into her cleavage. Her father didn’t notice. His eyes kept flicking back and forth, back and forth, following the pendant he still saw.

“Daddy,” Angie continued, “it feels good, doesn’t it, to be relaxed the way you are now. It feels so good to let go, let Angie tell you what to do, let Angie tell you what to think, let Angie tell you what you see and hear and feel. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil Cordero nodded. “It feels . . . so good.”

“If you let Angie do that, you can even see Mommy again. Angie can make Mommy come back for you. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Angie.” Watching her daddy, Angie saw a tear trickle from his left eye and felt a little guilty about tricking him about Mommy. But only a little guilty. “I want that.”

“Then what Angie wants is for you to help her.” Phil’s devious daughter went on. “From now on, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, if you hear Angie say ‘Time out, Daddy,’ you will relax, forget. what you’re doing and let Angie tell you what to do next and what’s true and what’s real, just like she always does when you’re relaxed like you are now. If you do this every time you hear Angie say ‘Time out, Daddy,’ it will feel so good and maybe Mommy will come visit again. Do you understand, Daddy?”

“Yes, Angie.” Phil nodded. “I . . . understand.”

“That’s good, Daddy.” Angie nodded her approval. “Now in just a minute, Daddy, Angie is going to snap her fingers. When Angie snaps her fingers, you will wake up and be like you were before Angie showed you her pretty pendant.” She paused.

“Yes, Angie.” Her daddy nodded again. “Just like I was before . . . you showed me . . . your pretty pendant.”

Angie smiled. “You’ll go downstairs, Daddy, and watch TV till it’s time to make supper. You won’t remember me showing you the pretty pendant, or what happened after that. You won’t remember any of that, because it was just a dream and it all went away when you woke up on the couch in front of the TV.

“You won’t remember, but you’ll do what Angie told you to do anyway. You just won’t remember Angie told you to. You understand all this, don’t you, Daddy, and you’ll do all this for Angie.”

“Yes, Angie.” Her daddy nodded. “I understand. I’ll do all this . . . for Angie.”

“That’s good, Daddy.” Angie snapped her fingers. “’Bye now.”

Phil Cordero obeyed, exiting the upstairs bedroom, going the stairs, settling himself on the living room couch and resting his head against it. His eyes closed. A moment later they opened.

Phil Cordero shook his head, annoyed with himself. Nodding off on the couch was getting to be too much of a habit. He wasn’t that old!

Well, it wasn’t as though he had anything special to do this afternoon. He reached for the book he’d been reading earlier in the day and hesitated. No, he decided. I’d rather watch TV right now. He reached for the remote.

Angie smiled. She’d looked into the living room when she’d come downstairs a few minutes after sending her daddy away, and there he’d been, watching some dumb soap opera he didn’t usually watch and looking bored. He was probably asking himself why he was bothering with it. Angie knew why.

Sex with Daddy had been fun, she thought. Knowing it was naughty made it more fun, and knowing that Daddy was totally under her power and was doing it because she’d made him think she was Mommy gave her a feeling of power that really got her excited. It was even better than the butler game! Angie wonders if the hypnotist lady she saw on TV ever does anything like this? She smirked.

The only thing wrong was that Daddy was so old! Maybe even forty! Angie really wanted to have sex with boys her own age, or at least guys who still had hair.

She’d just have to work on it, she decided. Soften Daddy up with her magic pendant, her magic stone, so he’d let her go out more the way she used to before Mommy . . . went away. Or maybe—who knew?—a boy might come to her house, if she could get Daddy to let her invite one. Or maybe he’d just come, like a prince in a fairy tale. She smiled, imagining a boy climbing in her window. Like that could ever happen, she thought wistfully.

Still, she had her own magic now. Angie’s pendant, she thought. Angie’s magic stone.