The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kristen glanced one more time at her friend Jean. They sat in a coffee shop, ages twenty two and twenty four respectively, each drinking from a mug that contained their heated up and caffeinated liquid of choice. Kristen had hot chocolate, while Jean preferred black coffee. The coffee shop had its usual level of noise, which is to say the air within it hummed with a low buzz generated by the chatter from a handful of conversations with two to five low energy participants each.

“So,” said Kristen, her thin pale lips pulled into the wirey grin she got so many comments about, “how did your weekend go? Did you do anything fun?” She focused her full attention on Jean.

“Not much in all honesty,” Jean replied with a small laugh. It was kind of like the laugh a mouse might have if they could talk. “My friend Ibis and I hung out Saturday. We watched a few movies I guess.”

“A few?” Teased Kristen, her eyes narrowing at Jean. “A movie is like an hour and a half, a few movies means sitting for like four and a half hours minimum.” Jean rolled her eyes at this “deduction.”

“A few doesn’t automatically mean three or more, you insufferable pedant,” Jean said to her friend as her eyes rolled. “What, are you trying to catch me cheating or something? For the record, I’m single, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware,” Kristen answered. She took a mouthful of her hot chocolate and swallowed it easily. For once she caught it cool enough not to try and kill her but not yet cold. Had she ever done that before, asked a distant part of her brain, in her life? She wasn’t confident that she had. “Well, how was that?”

“She’s sweet,” started Jean, “Touchy feely and gentle. I kind of have a crush on her.”

“That explains your willingness to stare at a glowing wall with her for three hours,” jabbed Kristen with a wry smile. “You gonna ask her out?”

“Well,” Jean sighed. She looked defeated and her eyes dropped like those of a sad puppy. “I tried already. She said she doesn’t really do romance.”

“Mmmmhm.” Kristen said and nodded along. She paused and took another swig. “And you continue hanging around the touchy feely girl you have a crush on, even though she shot you down.” Jean almost physically recoiled from this question and hid her eyes for a moment. Slowly, shamefully, they crept back up to barely meet Kristen’s.

“...yessssss…?” Jean answered, her voice shaky. Kristen sighed. “You work a half shift today?”

“Yeah, said Kristen, audibly annoyed. “I was supposed to have off but...you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, I do,” said Jean. The two women stood up. Kristen was taller, stockier, more muscular. With the poofy winter coats that both of them wore, though, it was hard to tell. Kristen retrieved a hair tie from her purse and used it to put her shoulder length black hair into a ponytail. They took their cups and departed. As they turned to go their separate ways, though, Jean adjusted her coat to itch at her shoulder and Kristen noticed something. She whipped around and focused her eyes on Jean’s neck. It was only for a moment but she swore she saw a bruise.

“Is…” Kristen started to say. Jean regarded her with wide, innocently questioning eyes. A moment of stilted quiet passed between them. Kristen lost her nerve, looked away, and pushed her chair in. “Have a wonderful day. Do you think I could crash at your place for the night? My mom is out of town.” Jean smiled daintily.

“Sure!” Said Jean in response. “Oh, but Ibis will be visiting too. I hope that’s alright?”

“Twice in a row?” Kristen muttered to herself, not quite loud enough for Jean to hear it. “No no,” she added at a more regular speaking volume, “that is perfectly acceptable. I’m excited to meet her.”

“Good to hear!” Jean cried, sort of shuffling her way towards the front entrance as she did. “I’ll see you after your shift! I might be getting groceries so I’ll leave the key in its hiding spot!”

“Text me that next time!” A worried Kristen sputtered as she hurried after her friend. “You can’t just yell in public that you’re doing something like that!” Jean gave an awkward laugh that suggested she heard what Kristen had said, but otherwise she didn’t answer. The two exited the coffee shop and went their separate ways, for real this time.

It was eight PM, or at least it had been ten minutes ago. Kristen’s car came to a stop in the parking lot of Jean’s apartment complex. Not...really Jean’s, she would say, so much as the one where she lived. In any case, she parked her car and got out of it. She checked her phone. There was a text message from her mom telling her she was overreacting and that she should probably mind her own business. Kristen rolled her eyes. She almost regretted not weaving a more dire story to explain this, but she was lying to Jean already. No need to complicate things by also adding her mother.

Kristen ascended the stairs and arrived at the entrance to Jean’s current home. She reached into a little dent on the inside of a potted plant next to the window and, sure enough, found the key there. She unlocked the door, then hesitated. Should she put the key back where she found it, leave the door unlocked, or bring the key in with her and just trust Ibis and Jean to knock?

Kristen sighed. She weighed all three options for a while. With a heavy heart she stepped inside, key in her pocket, then shut and locked the door behind her. She went into Jean’s sparse kitchen and put the key down on the counter next to her friend’s old shitty toaster that nobody ever used. Kristen sighed once again, her entire body heaving this time. She trudged to the couch and collapsed. Her consciousness left her.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang and woke Kristen up with a shock. She shot to her feet and then to the door. “Who is it?” She asked pensively.

“Th-this is Ibis, hello,” answered a dignified feminine voice from the other side of the door. They hesitated a moment before continuing and asking, “may I come in?”

“Y-yes,” said Kristen, feeling caught off guard, “certainly.” She unlocked the door and then opened it, revealing a slender woman to be standing on the other side. She had white hair, dull blue eyes, and long limbs covered by a thick petticoat. She came inside and dropped a brown backpack to the floor before lifting it one-handed by a little handle sort of strap on the top.

“Thank you,” said Ibis with a smile that seemed genuine. Kristen nodded and shut the door. Ibis carried her backpack over to a spot in the hallway and set it down leaning against the wall. “I assume you’re Kristen?”

“Yes,” answered Kristen, “I’m Kristen. You must be Ibis?” Ibis chuckled a little bit.

“I said as much already, dear.” Ibis said, her speech full of playful mannerisms. “You seem stressed, is something the matter?” Her voice conveyed genuine care and concern, but Kristen didn’t trust it. She hesitated slightly before she gave her reply.

“I...as a matter of fact,” Kristen said, taking a momentary pause and a deep breath. She prepared herself to plunge directly into the deep end, head first. “There is. It’s about Jean.”

“I see,” Ibis answered. Her face darkened a little bit and she frowned intensely. “What’s wrong, then?” Kristen felt herself falter. She wasn’t entirely sure about what she’d seen, after all, was this worth it?

Yes. Yes, obviously, it was. There could be questioning that fact.

“I saw a bruise,” Kristen sputtered with an aggressive look on her face. “On her shoulder.”

“Oh,” Ibis muttered and froze. Her face contorted into a strange mix of humor, awkward tension, and...relief, of all things. Ibis’ face became a bright red. “Oh, yeah, I get why-pfff, sorry, pahaha!” Something inside Ibis lost its grip on her laughter and it broke out through her mouth. She laughed at an uncomfortably high volume for a few seconds before regaining composure.

“Well!?” Kristen insisted angrily, insult and frustration making her body hot. “If there’s an explanation, then OUT with it!” She glared. The weight of her posture seemed to set Ibis back on a serious track.

“S-sorry,” Ibis replied, looking a little bit scared, “I um...I underestimated how good she is at escaping knots and she got free and fell over.” An awkward smile. “Poor dear bumped her shoulder on the bedpost on her way down.” Kristen felt like her brain had smashed into a brick wall at sixty miles an hour and been splattered against it.

“Wh-what.” Kristen stammered as she stared, blankly, in Ibis’ general direction. Ibis seemed to freeze again as her brain worked to catch up. For a minute or so, which felt to both young women like an hour, neither participant spoke. It was Ibis who broke that silence.

“How much...do you know about us?” She asked, pausing awkwardly every few words as she constructed the question in real time. Likewise, it wasn’t until after an awkward pause of her own that Kristen gave an answer.

“I know she—” started Kristen before she caught herself. It had seemed like Jean assumed that Ibis didn’t know about her crush. Kristen decided to be polite and omit that part. She started back up, “I know you two spend a lot of time together. You don’t do romance, she says. That’s...that’s pretty much it.”

“Damn,” Ibis practically hissed. “That’s...wow. She was gonna have you here with me around and not explain anything?”” Ibis paused and rolled her eyes. “A-anyway! Thank you for looking out for her like that. I mean it.” Ibis gave Kristen a warm smile. It was gentle, kind, and friendly. “I know she doesn’t have many friends, so...I’m glad you’re looking out for her.“

“You’re...welcome,” Kristen said, “but...can YOU-er rather, MAY YOU explain to me what’s going on with you two?”

“Well, uh, sure, I can do that,” Ibis answered. She spent a quiet moment collecting herself and, presumably, composing the coming explanation in her head. “Do you wanna get a drink? Not, like, alcohol, just, um, water—”

“You’re stalling aren’t you?” Snarked Kristen with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile. Ibis nodded, her expression almost pleading. Kristen shrugged and walked to the kitchen. There she fetched a cup and filled it with water from the tap. “Do you want anything yourself, while I’m here?” Ibis shook her head no. Kristen chuckled and shrugged. She returned to the living room and sat on the couch. “Your time’s up. Speak.” Ibis rolled her eyes, but after that she did begin to speak.

“I’m...I’m a domme,” Ibis said shakily. Kristen nodded emphatically and drank from her cup of water. “Do you know what—”

“I’m a hypnotist,” said Kristen suddenly. “You don’t have to teach me what a domme is.”

“O-oh,” Ibis stammered. “Okay. That actually makes this much easier. I’m a sadist, too. I...I like to inflict pain. In controlled contexts! With consenting partners, of course.” Kristen was squinting at her with a gaze that...well, it wasn’t quite “judgmental.” Cautious would probably describe it better. “And...Jean, your friend-you two are friends, right? She wasn’t terribly clear.” Kristen nodded yes. Ibis swallowed before talking again. “Your friend Jean is a masochist, though...like I said, the specific bruise you saw wasn’t from that. Not directly, anyway. Was it-was it bad?” Ibis looked hurt and worried, almost like a child fretting over a pet.

“I...don’t think so?” Kristen answered as she racked her brain. “I only saw it for half a second. I don’t know if it’s really bad or if I just got lucky. That poofy coat made it hard to tell.”

“Ohhhh I love that coat!” There was a shine in Ibis’ face. Joy. Pure, giddy joy. “The poofy light brown one that’s clearly a little too big for her?”

“That’s the bitch!” Kristen almost squealed, so caught up in the opportunity to gush about her friend. “And she insists it’s not but reaches down over her legs?”

“YEAH YEAH YEAH THAT’S SO CUTE!!” Shouted Ibis.

“RIGHT?” Kristen agreed. There was an awkward moment as the young women caught themselves and reeled back in. Neither looked the other in the eyes for a moment. Then, Ibis found it in herself to press on.

“Well-anyway-I’m aromantic, like she said. I don’t do dates-but that’s not related to the sadism thing!” She seemed genuinely apprehensive. Defensive, too, but Kristen had enough asexual friends to know that there was definitely a background which understandablylent to Ibis getting defensive like that.

“Don’t worry, I know,” said Kristen. She’d never considered that someone could be aromantic but not asexual. Still...it wasn’t exactly shocking. “What I’m more worried about is—”

“Jean?” Ibis finished the thought for her. Kristen hesitated a bit, then nodded. Ibis smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense. You’re worried I’m stringing her along and using hopes of a relationship to get play out of her?”

“That’s…” Kristen said. She frowned. “That’s harsher language than I’d use but more or less, yeah. It implies intention that I don’t think is there.”

“Yet—” Ibis almost growled. “Yet you confronted me today thinking I was physically abusing her. Is that not true?”

“It, um...yes.” Kristen felt ashamed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Ibis cut her off. She sighed. “I’m not angry that you were suspicious. I’m mad cause, like...you came to me first about it, and you were convinced so easily.”

“Well...okay,” muttered Kristen, somewhat ashamed now. “I assumed the backpack was full of BDSM gear.”

“You just...assumed that?” Ibis prodded.

“I did. What is in the backpack?” Kristen asked. Ibis sighed.

“BDSM gear.” She admitted.

“HAH! SEE?” Kristen laughed and pumped one fist in the air. “But...um...you just, you seem so sweet and genuine. You care about her, I can tell.”

“Well, yeah, but—” Ibis sighed. “You can’t take my word for it, okay? I am telling the truth but like-say I were mistreating her, right? You confront me, I weave a plausible lie, and what, you believe me just like that?”

“I...I see. Yeah,” sighed Kristen in defeat. “I guess next time I’ll be more cautious. But in my defense, I’ve never seen someone who can talk about someone the way you talk about Jean turn around and mistreat them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Ibis dismissively. “I guess using hypnosis to get Jean to tell you what happened wouldn’t be that ethical, either.”

“I. Oh.” Kristen said, looking like she’d been plowed over by a truck. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Well, good,” said Ibis. “It’d be invasive and unethical.”

“What if I got consent first?” Said Kristen. “Sometimes I use it to help people be honest, if they want to but they have baggage in the way.”

“I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad,” Ibis mused. “Hey, speaking of-you ever hypnotized her?”

“Once, as a party trick,” Kristen laughed. “Why?”

“I can’t believe Ibis talked you into this,” Jean purred. She was blindfolded, so she couldn’t see, but she knew both Ibis and Kristen were standing near her. She wore nothing but her underwear. Her arms were up above her head, and her wrists were tied together by soft lengths of silk.

“Honestly, neither can I,” Kristen responded. She trailed the tips of two fingers across Jean’s face. “Focus on these, okay? How they feel. Nice and gentle and soft.”

“And sofffft,” Jean purred. Kristen nodded, not that Jean had any way to know that.

“Goood girl,” Kristen praised her. “Sooo easy to let your thoughts and worries fade away, like your vision. Everythiiiiing fades. It’s allll slipping away,” she said as she gently brushed ever so slightly up and down with her fingertips, “allll slipping and going, jusssst like your vision.”

“Jusssst like my vision,” Jean purred.

“Good girl,” Ibis whispered in Jean’s ear. Jean moaned and went limper.

“Doing so welllll, sweetie. Now, let yourself faaaaaaaall,” Kristen droned, her finger tips pushing slightly into the soft squishy skin of Jean’s cheek. “Three, two, one...and SLEEP!” All at once, all the tension that remained in Jean’s body vanished. She was limp, unthinking, docile.

“Cuuuuute,” remarked Ibis with a big smile. “Are you sure I can’t hit her with a crop or anything?” She teasingly asked Kristen. Kristen rolled her eyes.

“That’s HER decision, and she can’t properly—” Kristen started. Ibis did not allow her the time to finish that sentence.

“YOU said you were uncomfy with it in your presence. She has consented to it. Blanket. With the usual right to change her mind whenever she chooses, of course.”

“Of course,” Kristen mumbled in agreement. She stroked Jean’s face with the back of her hand. “God, she’s cute when she’s under.”

“She isssss!” Ibis agreed. She was petting Jean herself. “Oh I just ADORE her!” Kristen laughed gently and then stood lost in thought for a moment.

“Alright, you may use a crop. But be gentle, I don’t like watching my friends get hit.”

“Your ‘friend?’” Teased Ibis with a coy smile. “Interesting word to use, in reference to the mostly naked girl who just willingly made herself half unconscious for you.”

“Oh hush,” Kristen rolled her eyes. “Is THIS what talking to me feels like?”

“In my experience?” Ibis asked rhetorically as she dug around her backpack. “No.” She found what she was digging for, and with an “aha!” she yanked a crop out of the backpack. She tossed the backpack onto the bed and walked back into position, where she stood behind Jean. “From what I’ve heard? Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh please, I do NOT sound like that. Right, Jean?”

“Riiiiight, Kristen,” moaned Jean. Her voice was soft and light and vacant. “Not at alll.”

“It absolutely is,” said Ibis with her arms crossed. She grinned mischevously. “Right, Jean?”

“Riiiiight, Mistress, it isssss,” answered Jean.

“HAH!” Shouted Ibis, pointing at Kristen for emphasis using her crop. “She called me mistress! I win!”