The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The young man across the bar looked nerviously in her direction.

Christine licked her lips, she could feel the urge coming on again. A slight red haze hung before her eyes and she knew she must act tonight before it blinded her to all reason. She had gone without too long.

This haze ment lust,

The man opposite was nervous, and seemed to be alone. Was his nervousness a sign he was up to something underhand?

The man looked up again. This time she caught his gaze and held it.

His eyes seemed to ruin this theory. They seemed so innocent.

She walked slowly over towards the young man, and stood but a meter away. His eyes remained locked with hers the entire time.

Christine smiled and broke eye contact.

“What the...” the young man muttered, shaking his head as he awoke from some kind of daze.

She let her eyes survey the target. This man could be a teenager, he was definitely young. His dress code was weird for the bar. A leather bikers jacket, over a red poloshirt and levi 501 jeans. His choice of footwear was army boots. Younger and more common than her usual targets, she suspected he was a student.

“Hi my name is christine.” I said flickering my eye lids in a suggestive manner.

“Err, oh... my name is... I mean to say I am John.".

I smiled. He was nervous and seemed so sweet. Part of me inside screamed ‘don’t do it!’, but that part of me had died such a long time ago. It no longer had the ability to influence my actions. He was attractive and ages ago I would have wanted to date him.

I dipped my finger into his drink. It was some sort of spirit, and ran my wet finger down the ridge of his nose.

He was surprised, but didn’t try to stop me, instead he just watched the finger.

I stroked his nose again, and yet again he just watched. In a rhythmic pattern in sync to the music of the bar, I carried on stroking the nose.

It was so stupid, yet he stood there unresisting and with every stroke his will to resist became less.

I knew as soon as I had transfixed those eyes, he would be mine. Some people are just fated to be prey. They have less will than the others, and become slaves to people with purpose. He was one of those people.

His eyes closed and he started to sway slightly. I grasped him lightly by the arm and whispered into his ear. “Relax, you don’t want to resist. you want to follow me out of the bar.".

Gently I kissed him on the lips.

He half awoke, opening his eyes slightly. I turned and walked towards the door with him in hand.

He mindlessly accompanied me, following my guiding lead. No one else would suspect a thing.

We entered the car-park beside the bar. It was well lit but no one was about.

John was easy to manoeuvre up against the wall. I pulled his bikers jacket down off his shoulders to reside around his arms, restricting their movement. This revealed his red poloshirt. I liked the color, red always excites me.

The color of the shirt caused the red haze of my vision to deepen. In an animal rage, I tore open the opening of his shirt to reveal his hairless neck. A neck I viciously kissed.

After a while I stopped, and withdrew. The red haze had vanished.

John slid down the wall to collapse in a sitting position. He still was now unconscious. I had drunk more that I should have.

My lust had gone, no red haze clouded my judgement and I observed the prey. He had passed out from lack of blood, but luckily still breathed. With time he would recover.

I examined his wallet, It contained little of value. I only took a small amount of cash, before sprinkling him with some whiskey out of my hip-flask. Finally I carefully buttoned up the shirt, to cover my ‘kiss’ marks, and headed back into the bar.

After all the night is young, and someone will find our ‘drunken’ boy soon and get him home. I doubt he will remember, or suspect anything. Afterall, this is such a safe and civilised bar...