The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Listen… I think we should… I think we should take a break. For a little while, at least.”

She was putting away the groceries when he said it, a box of Raisin Bran in her right hand. Long after other memories of the moment faded away—what she’d been wearing, whether the room was cold or hot, the weather that morning—she remembered holding that damn box. It went into the trash the next day, unopened. She switched to oatmeal after that.

But at the moment, they were still in The Before, and she responded by rolling her eyes. “Very funny,” she said, without turning around. “Did you remember to grab the espresso? I totally forgot.”

“Celeste… I’m… uh… I’m serious. We should… I love you, okay? But I’m not, um… I’m not in love with you. I don’t even know how to say it.” He fell silent, as if to prove his own point.

When Celeste retold the story to her friends, she chucked the cereal box at Ed. It hit him square in the chest and erupted in a blizzard of bran flakes. Here in reality, she set the box on the counter and turned around. Her muscles were suddenly too weak to throw anything.

“Wait, you’re not serious, are you?”

Ed nodded. “I… I don’t want to do this any more, Celeste. I thought I did, but I don’t.”

You ass. You Ass. YOU ASS you fucking mother- “Why are you telling me this now? Why are you… you just blurted it… are you fucking Jane? Is that what this is about?”

“No. This isn’t Jane’s fault. I just—”

“Oh, so it’s MY fault?” She felt rage, a rage that seemed to come from everywhere at once, boiling up inside and spilling over the edge, burning through her skin. Every cell was running its own crazy marathon. She felt weak, and her hands continued to tremble. Her tears came almost as a relief.

“These last few months haven’t been good for either of us.” Ed’s face was calm, cool, as white as the fake marble countertop between them. His shaky voice betrayed him. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry. But it ends today, and I’m leaving.”

“If you walk out that door, you’re not coming back. I mean it, Ed.”

“I know.” He zipped up his jacket, and only now did Celeste understand why he hadn’t bothered to take it off when they walked in. “I’m gonna go. My stuff… fuck it, just toss it. I don’t care.”

“Don’t,” she choked, squeezing her eyes and shaking her head. “Don’t leave me… please? Please, Ed… I’ll be better, I promise, and I mean it. Please don’t leave, please?”

She repeated it over and over, without even realizing it, like she was casting a spell to win Ed’s heart and mind and send him back into her arms, their little spat forgotten. “I’ll always love you,” his eyes blank and empty, a machine waiting to be reset.

But Ed was flesh and blood, and Celeste was no witch. At least not the kind who could cast spells and make people fall in love with her.

Please don’t leave me…

When she heard the door slam, her knees buckled and she crumpled into a ball of angry sobs.

“Listen… I think that maybe, for a little while at least…”

“we should see other people.”

Celeste pressed herself against the wall and waited for the words to come. She curled her lower lip under her upper teeth and bit down, hard enough to draw a trickle of coppery, salty blood. She tried sniffing again, but the tears were coming hard, and she was forced into an ugly snort instead. A high-pitched whine found its way through her clenched mouth. I’m so sorry Rebecca I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so fucking sor-

“…you need to lose some of that independence, slave.”

I’m sorry I’m so sorry wait what?The brunette forced her eyes open and tried to blink through the tears. She wiped her wet face with her right hand, knowing and not caring that said hand had just touched the dirty bathroom floor. “I’m sorry,” she said, as if her mouth had yet to catch up to her thoughts. “I mean it. Please don’t leave, Rebecca. I’ll do anything, I promise.”

“Oh, I know. C’mere, get up. That floor is probably nasty.”

Something was hovering in front of Celeste’s eyes. A few hard blinks revealed it to be a hand. Rebecca’s hand. Her girlfriend’s hand. She reached for it, wrapped her hand around it. Held onto it like a rescue rope. “Okay,” she mumbled, wishing that Rebecca’s arm would save her from more than just the dirty floor.

She climbed into a standing position, Rebecca holding her against the wall so that she didn’t immediately slide back down.

“You’re not going to leave me?” Celeste cursed herself for even saying it out loud, but she couldn’t help herself. This never happened. “You don’t want to see other people?”

Rebecca laughed, sweet and light, as if the previous ten minutes had been nothing but a bad dream for both of them. “I’ve been on a plane for ten fucking hours! I don’t want to see any other people for the rest of my life!”

“I don’t understand.” Celeste sniffed a few times before bringing her hand up to her nose, wiping away snot with a wet snerrt. “You’re mad and I was stupid and…”

“And we’re going to fix it.” Tris glanced over her shoulder at the entrance. “We’re gonna have to be quick, though. I don’t think your girl out there is going to keep ’em out forever.”

“I’ll do anything I can to make it better. I love you, Rebecca. I’m so sorry.” She pushed away from the wall with her boot and took a step forward, only to have Rebecca, arm lowered like a crossing bar, block her path. “Wait, what is it?”

“Look. Look at me.” Tris stared into Celeste’s wide hazel eyes. “Look only at me.”

“I… oh.” The brunette’s mouth fell open. She sagged against the wall. “Miss…”

“That’s right, Celeste.” Tris’s words washed over her helpless girlfriend. “We are your Mistress. We’re Rebecca. We’re your girlfriend, and we command you to look deep into our pretty, pretty eyes. Deeper.”

“Yeah…” Celeste blinked hard, twice, trying to clear away the last of her tears. She wanted nothing more than to look deep into those eyes without any distractions. “So pretty… looking deeper… Mistress…”

“Just like that episode of your favorite show, the one where she got hypnotized so deep, so fast. Drop for me now, Celeste. Go that deep. Then go even deeper. Falling into a trance in three, in two… in one…”

“I’m sor—”

Tris pressed down on Celeste’s head. “Shh. Sleep. Sleep now.”

“Uhn.”

Rebecca stepped back and admired their work. Celeste, arms at her sides, head resting against her chest, breath still coming in uneven, sniffling heaves. Tears, now forgotten, clung to her sleeping face. The brunette had dropped hard and fast, and Rebecca knew why. It felt good not to think. That’s what all of the hypnotists said, what all of the kind controllers drummed into their subjects, willingly or not. Relax. Peaceful and relaxed. Don’t think. Just listen. Listen and obey.

“You’re in a mindless hypnotic trance,” said Tris. She brushed the brunette’s hair away from her face and dabbed at a teardrop with her finger. “So deep and sleepy, just like Lydia on Action Force. Mindless and obedient.”

“Livvie…” Celeste winked her nose, a hint of a smile creeping across her lips. “Her name’s Livvie, Mistress.”

“Shh. Point is, when I tap you on the shoulder, you’re going to open your eyes, but remain so very, very hypnotized, you’ll be like a robot.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

“You’ll stay deep in trance until I tell you to wake up.”

Celeste’s smile grew a little. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Oh no.” Tris crossed her arms and shook her head. “No smiling for you. I’m still mad at you, remember? Go deeper, until you’re completely empty and blank. Let me know when you get there.”

They both fell silent. Behind them, Tris could hear commotion; a gruff voice announcing itself as “maintenance” meant that their brief period of Kayla-enforced solitude was about to end.

“Kayla’s going to fight the maintenance guy, I just know it,” said Rebecca. “We should have planned for him showing up.” She looked towards the entrance in time to see a tall man peer around the corner. He eyed the two women nervously, mindful of being a man in a woman’s restroom, even if he had as much permission to be in there as they did.

“Sorry, ladies,” he said. “This restroom is closed. Are you the only ones in here?”

“I’m completely empty and blank,” Celeste responded.

The resulting pause was probably a half-second at most, but to Rebecca and Tris, it was hours before the man spoke again. “Is anyone in the stalls? I gotta close this restroom up. Sorry.”

“No no! It’s just us! My friend’s a little… she hates flying. Gotta calm down, you know?” Tris turned and grabbed Celeste by the shoulder. “Open your eyes, act completely awake, and follow me. Obey.”

Celeste’s eyes snapped open, beautiful and blank and glazed over. “Okay.”

“Flying sucks, right?” Tris gave Celeste a slight tug, and that was enough to send them both gliding past the slightly confused and annoyed repairman. “Thanks for taking care of that leak, by the way!”

Tris! Just go! He doesn’t give a shit!

Do you want to look normal or what?

It’s not like he’s going to put us in airport jail! Let’s just get out of here!

A moment later and they were free, standing at the entrance to the restroom with their reprogrammed slave at their side. Behind them, they could hear the man double-checking the stalls and muttering. Ahead of them…

“I’m sorry, Misssrrrebecca, Rebecca!” Kayla skittered forward until she was a foot away. “He’s the janitor and so of course he had a right to go in there and I don’t want to shout, because you know? Like why would I do that? So I was hoping you’d hear him and come out and… did I do okay? Are you mad at me? Can I do anyth—”

“You’re fine.” Tris shook her head again. A lot of that going around today. “You did great, Kayla. You did everything we asked you to do.”

“Oh, good!” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, sucking in her lips like someone who had just awakened from a very long and very restful sleep. “I’m so glad! I got really nervous. I’m so happy I could help.”

Rebecca looked around. “Where’s Emily?”

“I did exactly what you told me to do, Rebecca!” Kayla’s smile was dazzling. “You were so right and so smart! I asked her to go find my phone, and she went out to the car. Um, she said to meet her at Baggage Claim Five.”

“Fuck, Tris.” An unpleasant image popped into their mind, and Rebecca fumed. “We got off the plane how long ago? Our bag is probably the last one on the belt by now.”

“Are you kidding? I bet it’s not even off the plane yet. You know how slow this airport is.”

Kayla’s eyes drifted from her Mistress to the woman behind her. “M—Mistress? Is Celeste… is she okay?”

“She’s blank and obedient, Kayla. Isn’t that right, Celeste?”

“Yes.” They could barely hear Celeste over the background din. “I am blank and obedient.”

“See how happy she looks?” Tris narrowed her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to go that deep, Kayla? Just as deep as you can go, mind empty and ready for me to control it?”

“Celeste gave me the trigger words,” Rebecca added. “Your keys, in my hand.”

Kayla’s response was somewhere between ‘Winning free first-class tickets to Tahiti’ and ‘Emily greeting someone at the airport.’ She had saucers for eyes, a kid asked to sit in Santa’s lap. “W-would you? Mistress? That would be amazing! It’s all I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.”

It’s all she’s ever wanted since Thursday, anyway, Rebecca deadpanned. She liked that she could now crack jokes for a secret audience of two. Do we trance her?

Tris answered that question for them forcefully. “Kayla,” she said out loud, her eyes burning holes into the pretty girl’s head. “We’re going to do exactly that. But…”

“Mistress?”

“But not here.” Tris was mindful of the repairman, who by now had almost certainly figured out that where was no leak to be found, and who was now probably killing a few minutes off the clock before heading off to his next, actual repair job. He’d already seen them, seen how odd they were acting. If he came out to find them still hanging around the restroom… “Not in public. Let’s find someplace private. Rebecca?”

In their mind, Rebecca unfolded a little map of the airport for herself and Tris to pore over, once again feeling grateful for the very real airport terminal maps that Emily had forced her to study before each and every trip. Emily was far better at navigation, of course, but they’d been to O’Hare so many times by now that even Rebecca could run through a quick list of potential quiet spaces. They quickly settled on a likely winner.

“There’s a chapel near Terminal 2,” she said, allowing herself to enjoy Kayla’s awe-struck oh my God you’re so knowledgeable about everything Mistress look. They’d be putting an end to that soon enough. “It’s landside, so that gets us a lot closer to Emily.”

“That’s a perfect idea, Mistress! You’re so smart! Celeste told me all about how smart you are, but wow!”

“Thanks, Kayla. Worst-case scenario, if Emily gets mad because she had to wait, you’ll tell her that you’re super-religious and you made the three of us stop in the chapel.”

“Okay. That’s a perfect idea, too. Although… I don’t want Emily to be mad at me. Or be mad. Can we hypnotize her? So that she forgets all about having to wait for us?”

Oh my God, where did Celeste find this girl?

“Off limits.” Tris didn’t mean it to come out as a growl, but it did. “Not in a million years are you to ever even think about hypnotizing Emily, understood?”

It didn’t take much to defeat Kayla. She sagged. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. We’re going to the chapel now, before we get even further behind. Celeste? Come with us. You’ll follow one step behind. Kayla, at our side. Now.”

“Yes, Rebecca. I am blank and obedient.”

“Call me Mistress,” said Tris. After a beat, she added “Call me Mistress Rebecca.”

“Yes, Mistress Rebecca.”

See, Rebecca? I’ve got us both covered.

They stormed off just in time to miss their maintenance friend, who emerged from the restroom and began stacking little yellow ‘closed’ signs onto his cart. He waved a young woman through, wrinkling his nose and sighing and the unfairness of it all.

“How would you feel, Kayla, if I did that to you?” Tris jerked her thumb backwards, pointing in Celeste’s general direction. “Made you into a mindless zombie?”

“Oh, I… oh! Yes, Mistress! I would do anything you asked of me? So… like, if you wanted me to be that? Sure, I’d let you.”

There was a large party in front of them, a group of very tanned and very happy college boys back from a beach trip, completely unprepared for Chicago’s weather in their board shorts and t-shirts. Unwilling to face the cold or the end of their vacation, they sauntered as slowly as possible towards the main concourse, causing a pileup of travelers behind them. Rebecca. Mistress, Kayla and Celeste were among them, the former peering around the Surfer Boys looking for a way to pick up the pace, the latter content to stay within their assigned formation alongside their Mistress.

“You’d let me? I’ll do whatever I want with you, thank you very much.”

Kayla stumbled, catching herself just in time to avoid falling to the carpet. “O-oh right! Yes! I’m so sorry, Mistress! I mean I’d want you to do it!”

“Be careful, don’t hurt yourself,” said Rebecca, feeling a little guilty. A little guilty. “Our point is, if you didn’t know who we were, and we came up to you and said we were going to hypnotize you into a mindless slave, what would you say?”

“I’d… I probably wouldn’t believe it. Celeste told me that I’m not to remember anything about hypnosis when I’m not around you or her or Zoe. Cuz, you know, we want to keep you safe.”

“But what would you think?” She peered again. Little groups were slipping past the surfer roadblock and moving ahead at a better pace. They’d have their chance to do the same soon enough. “How would you feel, if you knew that I could? That’s what I’m getting at. You can be honest with me, say whatever it is that comes to mind.”

Kayla narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together, apparently deep in thought. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who routinely pondered deep philosophical questions. It wasn’t until Tris finally led them around the Surfer Boys that she came to an apparent conclusion.

“I wouldn’t like it, Mistress,” she finally said, her face open and honest. “I don’t always like myself. Who I am. What I am. When I’m around Zoe, she makes me want to be like her, and so I’ll be mean to people for no good reason. I hate when I do that, but… it’s still me. It’s still my choice to be mean. If I was like Celeste is now, I wouldn’t be anything. It’s like I wouldn’t exist. That scares me. I’d rather be mean than be nothing.”

They were almost at the Chapel. Rebecca spotted the little faith symbols on the directional sign ahead of them, a little arrow pointing to her left. “That’s what I figured. And I get it.” She tapped Kayla on the shoulder and pointed out the set of double doors that led to their destination.

“Don’t worry,” she added. “We’re going to make sure that you’ll always be Kayla, warts and all.”

Rebecca had never been to the airport chapel. She rarely attended church, not so much because of a lack of faith—she called on high powers to save her ass more than anyone, she figured—but because the formality of it bored her. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she’d eventually find herself seeking out this place, especially not in the middle of this madness

But here they were, and it wasn’t bad. It was the smaller of the two available to them, there being a larger chapel for big tour religious groups or lunatics who actually wanted to get married at the airport. This one was cozy, wood-paneled, and to their great relief, empty. Rebecca ushered them all inside and closed the double doors, wishing that they locked.

“Go to the second pew from the front and sit down, Celeste.” There were six rows. Someone slipping in after them would probably hang closer to the rear.

“Yes, Mistress Rebecca.” The brunette did as she was told, moving slowly up the aisle like a bride before sliding to her right and slipping into a seat with a hollow thump.

“Kayla?” Let’s go sit at the front. I want to talk to you first.”

“Okay. You can do what you want to me, Mistress. You’re my everything… I only want to make you happy. I know I said I wouldn’t want things but, if you wanted them? I’d totally let you do them to me. Anything, really!”

Dammit, Celeste! “We meant what we said, Kayla. We’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, and we finally figured out the right path. We’ll be gentle, promise.”

“That’s nice.” A dopey, half-serious smile followed. “Why… why do you keep saying ‘we,’ Mistress? Oh! Is this like a, you know, one of those—”

‘Shh… quiet.” Tris made the mistake of reaching out to Kayla, in the way they often reached ut to Celeste when she got overly excited or emotional. The slightest touch nearly sent Kayla shooting through the roof. “Stay calm,” she added. “I know you’re excited. But listen. My touch is just a normal touch to you. Every time I touch your body here in the chapel, it’ll make you more relaxed. It will remind you of who is in control. And who is that?”

Kayla floated back down from the ceiling. She smiled. “You are, Mistress Rebecca. Always and forever.”

Rebecca and Tris looked her over, suddenly uncertain on how to proceed. The smart thing to do would be to drop her using a trigger; she’d go down instantly, and Celeste had programmed her to desire exactly that. But it was also cold and clinical, the kind of thing that Edwin would use. They had triggers for Celeste, too, and yet they’d gone for the old Hollywood look into my eyes induction back there in the restroom. Kayla deserved the same; if she was going down, they were going to lay her gently on the ground instead of tripping her.

“Kayla, it’s time to listen carefully.” Tris dropped her voice and leaned against the girl, her weight emphasizing her touch is power command. “Just relax. It’s so much hotter and sexier this way, don’t you think? Nothing forceful, just quiet and complete submission.”

She pushed the word complete extra hard. It had an immediate effect on her target, who wilted accordingly. “Celeste has already shown you how nice it is to slip away into a deep, deep sleep, hasn’t she? I can see it in your eyes. Your heavy, sleepy eyes. Are you sleepy, Kayla?”

“Yeah.” That was all the girl had left in her, the word slipping out like the last tissue in the box, unexpectedly leaving nothing behind. She fell silent again, her eyelids fighting a losing battle against gravity.

“Which is weird,” Rebecca continued, “because it’s the middle of the day and you should be wide awake, right? But you’re not, it’s the opposite in fact, you’re more tired now than you were when you went to bed last night, just an overwhelming need to sleep. And it’s because we’re all-powerful, Kayla. We’re the most powerful hypnotist in the world, and we’ve got you exactly where we want you to be, eyes so heavy in this quiet little chapel, sinking into the little cushions, letting us take you exactly where you want to go. Down.”

She reached out. She didn’t need to. Kayla was well on her way to trance at this point, almost in a rush to get there herself, letting her head droop about as low as it could go on its own. Her eyes fluttered like she was in a silent movie. But Rebecca could only think of her first time with Missy, just a few years and yet eons ago. How nervous she’d been. The twists her stomach had made. She’d been almost afraid of hypnosis back then.

She wasn’t, now.

Her finger pressed against Kayla’s forehead. “Down.”

Kayla dropped.

“And now we’re alone.”

They were, at that. Even without a hypnotized guard posted out front, no travelers poked their heads through the double doors.

“I guess there’s lack of faith these days,” said Tris. “Not even someone praying for a safe journey? For no turbulence on the flight?”

“More faith in airplanes, I guess,” Rebecca countered. “They didn’t take the same flight to Rio that took with Emily, obviously.” She glanced at the front of the room, where a little alter had been set up. “I kinda wish we had it that easy, Tris. Just say a quick prayer to set things right. ‘Dear God, please make me a better mind controller? If, you know, that’s okay?’”

“Don’t need that. We already have faith, Rebecca. In us. In what we can do. In what we’re going to do.”

Tris slid into the first row, jamming her knees into the seat and curling her arms around the back of the pew to stay upright, the better to stare into Celeste’s beautiful, empty eyes. “Imagine what the three of us can make possible here, Rebecca. You and me, and once we get Celeste straightened out? We can have anything we want.”

“What I want… ugh! My legs are already starting to get tingly. This isn’t going to work. Hang on.” She climbed off the pew and went around the side of it, sliding into the second row until she was sitting directly next to her girlfriend. “This is better. This is what I want.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“This was how we were on the U-Bahn, remember?” Rebecca pressed against her girlfriend, trying to recapture the magic of that bumpy, lurching train. The way they both pretended to be thrown against each other. How they barely made it to the bedroom before tearing off their clothes. A mind controller and her one slave, Tris. Just that. Just perfect.

She waved her hand in front of Celeste’s face, delighting in the lack of any sort of response. They’d dropped her deep this time. “So how do we break it to her? Just straight-up brainwashing?”

“No.” Tris was adamant about that; they could both feel it in their bones. “The plan is still the same. We’re going to tell her like it is, and because she loves us, she’ll accept it.”

“Or not.”

“Look around us,” said Tris, waving her arm. “This is the place for miracles.”

Here we go, Tris.

Do you want to start? I think you should start. Don’t make the Mistress do all of the Mistress-ing. This is your moment, Rebecca, more than mine.

Okay.

“Slave Celeste,” Rebecca said, drawing upon an inner strength she’d only just come to realize existed. Something deep below the pit of nervousness and uncertainty that carried her through all of her previous attempts. She didn’t need bourbon, or beer, or even her pendant. “I’m going to count to three. When I hit three, you’re going to open your eyes, and become fully aware of where you are. You won’t remember how you got here, and you’re going to find that really exciting. Understood?”

“Understood, Mistress Rebecca.”

“Good. You know, one good thing about all of that fake hypno stuff you like is that it’s gotten you prepared for this. A mindless thrall, right? I’m going to brainwash you with some new orders. When you open your eyes, you’re going to find every word that I say extremely fascinating.”

“Yes, Mistress Rebecca. Fascinating.”

I kind of wish we could fuck her right here and now.

Stop it! You’re… we’re in a chapel! Bad Tris, bad! Horny jail!

Sorry. Keep going. We’re doing great.

“Ahem. The other thing that’s going to happen, Celeste, is that when I reach three and you open your eyes, you’re going to listen to everything have to say, and accept it all, and you’re going to respond when prompted.”

The brunette bobbed her head once. “I understand, Mistress Rebecca.”

“We have a lot to say to you. To Kayla, too. So now… one, two…”

Rebecca dug her fingernails into her hand. This was her moment.

“Three.”