The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kevin used a pocket-sized LED flashlight to lock his back door, to slip the sealed envelope under the concrete frog, then to walk to the dark RV.

He didn’t want to think about Sam retrieving that envelope, or what that would mean for Kevin.

At 7:52 p.m., Kevin started the RV and drove out of his driveway, with only the streetlights enabling him to see. Kevin didn’t turn on headlights till he was a block from his house.

Kevin’s home-made hypno-talker lay on the passenger seat.

At 8:02 p.m., Kevin was where he needed only to drive fifty feet, make a left turn, then drive half a block, and Lourdes Taylor’s house would be on his right. But instead of doing any such driving, Kevin pulled the RV over to the side of the road, and dug out his smartphone.

There was one text message, from McGuy: SHE’S GETTING DRESSED.

Everything is on track so far, Kevin thought.

Five minutes later, Kevin put the RV back on the road. Seconds later, he was coming up on Taylor’s house.

He was moving slowly, because he was looking for an empty beer can to be reflected in the headlights.

If the beer can were laying in the street, this meant that Sergeant McGuy had persuaded Captain Taylor to get in his car. But the beer can on the grass would mean, “She refused to come with me.”

Now in front of Taylor’s house, Kevin spotted the beer can next to the curb. Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. The plan is still “Go.”

The plan was that McGuy, in full dress uniform, was to ring Taylor’s doorbell at eight o’clock, tell her that Colonel Brooks insisted she meet with him now, and then McGuy would drive her to the 4th SMB compound. Captain Taylor wouldn’t dare leave the compound until she was absolutely sure that Col. Brooks wasn’t there; by the time she got back to her house, Kevin would have long since freed his neighbors.

That was the plan, which seemed to be working so far. Kevin didn’t want to recall the old military saying, “No battle plan survives engagement with the enemy.”

The main reason that Kevin didn’t want to think about things going bad, was that things were already bad enough. Kevin was in his sixties, out of shape, needing glasses, and it had been decades since he’d practiced hand-to-hand combat. Kevin had chosen not to rope any old Army buddy into this mad scheme, so tonight Kevin had no partner and no backup.

Try as he might, Kevin hadn’t been able to cook up any kind of Plan B. So what he was about to do, had to work!

Less than a minute later, Kevin stood at Taylor’s front door.

“Kilo Mike Delta, commence operation,” he murmured to himself.

With his right hand gripping a corner of his gizmo, and with right thumb resting on the orange button, he reached across and pressed the doorbell button with his left hand.

Answering the door was Debbie Snodgrass. She was wearing a pink miniskirt and pink high heels, but was otherwise naked. Debbie was holding a stopwatch.

Her eyes went wide, and she said, “Mister MacDonald! I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in Mistress’s house. She is my Mistress, and I must obey—”

As Kevin pressed the orange button on the gizmo, he thought, Something about her voice is strange.

A second later, Debbie was blank-faced and reciting with a robotic voice, “You trust the old man. You believe anything the old man tells you, you’ll do anything the old man tells you to do, and you’ll answer any question the old man asks with the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

“Who are you talking to, Slave Debbie?” called out a woman’s voice from inside the house. Kevin’s blood ran cold—

—till he realized that whoever’s voice it was, it wasn’t Captain Taylor’s.

“Let me in, Debbie,” Kevin ordered. Debbie opened the front door for him, he walked in—and stared.

In the living room, he saw over a dozen women, all of whom he recognized as his neighbors. All of them were dressed like Debbie: pink miniskirts, pink high heels, and nothing else. Pink panties were scattered around the room.

Half the women had their pink skirts hiked up, and were lying on their backs, moaning. The remaining women were eating their pussies.

Kevin saw Judy getting licked by L-Something, the brunette part-time paralegal who lived three houses to the right of Kevin.

Karen—sweet, innocent Karen—had her head between the legs of “BB” Carlin, who had dyed-blue hair and tattoos on her arms and legs. BB was pushing on Karen’s head.

BB said, “Ohh, Slave Karen, be proud. Pleasuring a woman well is indeed what we take most pride in, and is our greatest purpose.”

There was something odd about how BB said that last sentence, but Kevin couldn’t spot what it was.

While Kevin was stunned into silence, Debbie Snodgrass called out, “Time! Switch places.”

Debbie set about adjusting the stopwatch, as the lickers around the room lay back, hiked up their skirts, and became the lickees.

At last Kevin got over his shock at the lesbian orgy, and remembered why he was there. We have to all get out of here before Taylor gets home!

Now he pressed the orange button on his gizmo. Debbie, and four women whose names he didn’t know, all froze, and started reciting the gizmo-mantra.

Kevin commanded, “Stop the lezzie stuff! Get up, get dressed, I’m here to take you home. Hurry!”

But the gizmo had only a five-foot-radius range. Most of the women in the room were unaffected by that first blast—

—including L-Something, the brunette paralegal. She glared at Kevin. “You’ve done something to those slaves! Plus, Mistress forbids you to be in here. I’m calling her!”

The paralegal raised her upper body up (while keeping her hips on the floor; Judy continued licking). The enslaved paralegal reached up, grabbed a smartphone that had been laying on the coffee table, and started punching squares.

“No!” Kevin yelled, and raced toward L-Something—or tried to.

Another still-enslaved pussy-lickee grabbed Kevin around his ankles, tripping him.

Kevin fell down, but he made sure to keep his grip on his gizmo. Once he was on the floor, a press of the orange button got his captor to free him.

Kevin stood up, and hurried over to the paralegal as fast as his over-sixty legs could move. But by then, she was on the phone—

“Mistress, this is Slave Levina. Our neighbor, Mister. . .You trust the old man—”

Fuck! Now Taylor knows I’m here!

Kevin grabbed the smartphone out of the paralegal’s hypno-frozen hand, jammed the gizmo under his arm, and turned Levina’s smartphone off. He tossed the smartphone on an end table, which he noticed already had the Army-version gizmo laying on it.

Kevin tossed the Army gizmo to Debbie. “Debbie,” he said, “hold on to this, and don’t give it to anyone but me.”

She nodded.

He said to Debbie and the other four women in his first batch of Hypnotized: “Go outside to the RV and get in. Do not come out unless I personally tell you to come out. Get going!”

The five women shuffled out the front door. Jeez, they need to move faster!

Kevin looked around then, with his hypno-talker in hand, and noticed something odd: The lesbian orgy was still going on. Even Judy and Levina, who’d been gizmo-hypnotized a minute earlier, were still licking and getting licked.

Looks like the hypno-talker doesn’t undo previous programming, it just enables me to paint over it with my own commands. Useful to know.

Just about the time that Kevin was figuring out how to use the lesbian orgy to get the women out faster—

The kitchen phone started to ring.

Immediately all the lickers (including Judy!) jumped up, and started walking toward the kitchen.

Kevin said, “Judy, stop! What are you doing?”

Judy stopped, but in an Isn’t it obvious? tone, she replied, “That could be the Mistress, trying to call us. We must answer the phone.”

“No, don’t answer the phone. In fact, Judy and Levina, stop them from answering the phone.” Kevin pointed to the women hurrying into the kitchen.

Judy rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a woman around the waist, trying to drag her out. Levina, meanwhile, was herself heading for the kitchen.

Kevin started to hurry into the kitchen himself—but arms wrapped around his ankles, and he went down.

His gizmo flew out of his hand. Oh, fuck! Fortunately, it didn’t hit the carpet hard.

Kevin looked back. Holding his ankles was—Karen?

Kevin’s young neighbor was glaring at him. “Mister MacDonald, you’re intruding in Mistress’s house. Whatever you’re trying to do, I’m stopping it.”

Kevin thumped the carpet in frustration. Oh, he could easily escape, but he’d hurt Karen. And Karen and Judy were the two women here whom he wanted most not to hurt.

Everything is going wrong! Without his hypno-talker in his hand, he was helpless. Meanwhile, only five women had boarded the RV! Dammit, he’d never figured that Taylor would tell her slaves to resist intruders; he’d figured that he’d be able to hypnotize one batch of slaves after another, without the other women causing trouble.

Worst of all, the clock was ticking. Taylor was coming!

Well, one problem he could fix. “Levina, pick that up and hand it to me,” he said, pointing.

Levina handed Kevin his gizmo, and he reprogrammed Karen enough that she let go of his ankles. He stood up, as his knee-joints made noises.

Hurry! We’re almost out of time! Fuck the kitchen phone, get back to packing your neighbors into the RV.

But before he’d taken one step—

Katie, the real-estate salesman’s wife who lived half a block to Kevin’s left, now stood in the kitchen doorway. “Mistress says that she already was on her way home, and will deal with the intruder.”

“You bet your ass I will,” a female voice growled behind Kevin’s back. Kevin recognized that voice.

He spun around. In the front doorway stood Lourdes Taylor, in dress uniform, with a handgun pointed at him.

Her free hand brought Mickey Mouse ears from her neck to around her ears in a swift motion.

Which meant, Kevin had lost his chance to use his gizmo on her.

Now with her free hand, she pointed to his home-made hypno-talker, then put her hand out flat. Gimme.

“You’ll have to come take it from me,” he said, with stomach in, chest out, and chin up. Show no fear, he had learned long ago.

“Whatever you just said, I can’t hear you,” she said.

She pointed to his gizmo. “I can’t hear that, either.” She smirked.

She pointed her handgun at his chest, but didn’t fire it. She smiled in triumph. “By the time the police show up, you’ll be dead, your homemade A-667KPK will be hidden from policemen’s eyes, and all my honeys will be reprogrammed to say that you burst in here and I had to shoot you dead to save us all from ravagement. You fucked up, Corporal.”

Kevin’s shoulders slumped then, his head bowed, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His left hand dropped limp at his side; his right hand brought up the rectangular gizmo to cover his nose and mouth, as a geisha would use her fan.

To Capt. Taylor and other woman in the room, Kevin looked despairing and defeated.

But Kevin only appeared to be despairing and defeated. With his lips hidden from Taylor’s view, he was speaking quietly, so that with ear-protection on, she couldn’t hear:

“Karen, drop to the floor and roll into Taylor from behind; knock her off her feet. Judy, pull the ear-protectors off her ears. Karen, now.”

Kevin opened his eyes then, and looked into Taylor’s eyes. But Kevin’s gaze now was not that of a coward, but that of a warrior. Taylor’s expression changed from contempt to confusion—just before Karen knocked Taylor on her ass.

“Hey!” Taylor yelled.

She was dazed and confused for half a second, which was time enough for Judy to bare Taylor’s ears.

Seeing that, Kevin rushed forward.

Taylor jerked her gun arm up, with murder on her face—

But then, Kevin’s gizmo got close enough. Taylor’s face went blank, and she started reciting.