The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“But ple-e-ease,” wheedled Candace Barton. “Can’t you make an exception, just this once? I just hafta stay on the cheer squad!” That was true enough. Being kicked off the squad for being too dumb—that was what everyone would think—even to be a cheerleader, an activity not exactly known for needing a lot of brainpower, would be really embarrassing. It might even dethrone her as queen of the, like, popular girls. And she couldn’t have that!

“No,” Coach Wilson replied. “No exceptions. I don’t make the rules, young lady, and I can’t change them just for one girl.” No matter how much her daddy donates to the college, she thought. After a moment, though, she went on. “You’re off the squad until Dean Waterford says you can come back on. And if you want that to happen, you’d better start studying and pull your grades up.”

“But it’s not fair!” Candace—well, whined; even she had to admit that was what it sounded like. “I do so study! I do!”

“That’s not what your grades say, young lady,” her coach snapped. “You can’t possibly be dumb enough to get those marks if you’re really studying.”

“I can—” Candace stopped herself before she could finish that sentence and look really stupid. She sighed. “Okay. I’ll try harder. How long?”

“I’ll speak with the dean,” came the answer. “He’ll tell you when you can come back.”

Three weeks later:

Candace pouted. She’d just gotten another test back. At least she hadn’t gotten a D this time, but a C- wasn’t much better. She’d thought about getting some smart guy in her class to tutor her, or maybe even help her cheat on tests if that didn’t work. There was Archie, for instance; he had a hard time keeping his eyes off her tits. She was sure he’d say yes if she asked, and it wasn’t like she’d actually have to put out for him; just giving him the chance to gawk at her gazongas would do, she figured.

But what if that didn’t work? What if her grades still didn’t go up?

No, she decided. She needed to talk to somebody who could really help.

But who? Not her teacher. There was no way she could talk the old bag into fixing her grades. Trying to do that would just get her in trouble.

No, she decided, it was going to have to be the dean. He couldn’t change her grades either, she didn’t think, but maybe she could talk him into letting her back on the squad anyway. Anyway, it was worth a shot.

“Please,” Candace begged. “Please, sir, you have to let me go back on the cheer squad, you just have to!” As she spoke, she leaned forward across the dean’s polished desk, propping herself with her hands.

Dean Gerald Waterford cleared his throat and responded, “No, young lady, I do not have to do any such thing.” As he spoke, he looked over the girl pleading with him. He liked what he saw: curly blonde hair piled atop a pretty face with bright blue eyes and a tight sweater visibly straining over an amazing bosom before stretching down to tuck into a short skirt. He couldn’t see anything below that, but he’d gotten a brief look when she’d come into his office and his mind filled in the details: long, curving legs in sheer stockings which gave them a tanned look, tapering down to small feet encased in white high heels. A thoroughly adult ensemble—but then, he reminded himself, the girl was nineteen, old enough to vote. His eyes drifted upward and locked onto Candace’s chest. Why not enjoy the view? he told himself. He’d look away in a minute. In a minute. She’d never notice. In a minute.

But Candace did notice. She smiled. She hadn’t counted on this, but maybe she could use it. Keeping her right hand firmly pressed against the desktop, she brought up her left and hooked her pointer finger inside the U-neck of her sweater, stretching it down. Underneath, the top two buttons of her blouse were open, exposing her generous cleavage. Suddenly she let go; the sweater snapped back up.

She heard a gasp and focused on the dean’s face. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open loosely. After a second, he seemed to collect himself, but drops of sweat had popped out on his forehead.

Wow, the blonde babe thought. That really got to him! She pressed her advantage: “Dean Waterford, sir, are you sure you can’t let me back on the squad?” She batted her eyes at him. “Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?” She hooked her finger inside her sweater again and pulled, exposing her cleavage once more, and let go. The dean gasped again and his head seemed to jerk slightly as the sweater snapped back.

Candace’s smile widened. Dean Waterford must be a serious tit man! He looks like he just got zapped by lightning or something! He was still staring, though he was struggling to stop. Well, she wasn’t about to let him just when things were getting really good! She raised her finger to the sweater’s neck again.

“I, I can’t re—re—reinstate you on the s-squad,” the dean stammered. “Not yet.” He drew a shuddering breath and continued, eyes still fixed on Candace’s bosom. “Y-your grades haven’t come, uhhn, up enough.” His face was quite shiny with sweat now.

Candace tugged at her sweater again. “Stre-e-etch,” she purred. She let go. “Snap!” Waterford was clearly stunned by the motion; each time she stretched and snapped her sweater he’d gasp and his head would jerk forward. She wasn’t sure he even noticed anything else right now, except her voice. It was like he was getting hypnotized or something!

“You like what you’re seeing, don’t, you, sir.” It wasn’t a question. “You like staring at my chest. You like staring into my cleavage while I play with my sweater. You can’t help it. You can’t look away.” As she spoke, she continued to stretch and snap her sweater’s neck.

“No,” Waterford whimpered. “Can’t help it. Can’t look away.” Visibly struggling to form the words, he protested, “B-but I mustn’t. It’s wrong. You’re, you’re a student! Oh, God, you’re a student!”

“Shhh, shhh,” Candace soothed, continuing to stretch and snap her sweater. “It’s all right. You’re not making me do anything wrong.” She smirked. You’re not making me do anything. I’m doing it to you! “Just keep looking and listening to my voice and don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen. It’ll just be our little secret.” Stre-e-etch, snap!

“Our little secret,” Waterford gasped.

She kept it up for another couple of minutes, stopping when the dean began to chant, “Stre-e-etch, snap! Stre-e-etch, snap! Str-e-etch, snap!” Each time he repeated the words, his head jerked forward and back. There was something funny about his eyes, too. After a moment Candace realized what it was: every time his head went forward their pupils dilated, and every time it went back they contracted.

Finally she stopped. Dean Waterford didn’t seem to notice, except that his head stopped snapping back and forth. His eyes stayed locked on her boobs and their pupils kept on expending and contracting, expanding and contracting. His mouth hung open slightly.

Fuck! Candace could hardly believe it. He looks like he’s really-for-real hypnotized! she smiled broadly. Let’s see if I can really make him, like, do stuff! And I know just where to start!

“Dean Waterford,” she asked, “what’s your first name? Tell me your first name.”

“Chester,” came the answer, pitched so low it was almost a whisper. “My first name is . . . Chester.”

“I don’t like that name,” Candace said, pouting. “Too nerdy.” She brightened. “I know! From now on, when we’re together like this and you’re all relaxed like you are right now, all hypnotized and in my, like, power, I’ll call you Chet. You know you’re hypnotized and totally in my power, don’t you. Repeat after me, ‘I’m hypnotized and totally in your power.’” Once again the dazed dean echoed her words.

Candace’s smile was a smirk now. “Now repeat after me, ‘When I’m alone with Candace Barton, my name is Chet. But only when I’m alone with Candace Barton.”

Dean Waterford did as Candace had commanded, repeating her instructions word for word.

“That’s right.” Candace nodded. “And you can call me Candace.” She had a wicked idea. “No,” the corrected, “you can call me Miss Candace. When we’re alone together like this, with you hypnotized and totally in my power, you call me Miss Candace. But like I said before, only when we’re alone together and you’re hypnotized.”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford answered. Deep in trance, his mind supplied only the minimum words he needed to respond to the girl who now controlled him completely.

“That’s just right, Chet,” Candace purred. She clapped her hands, then froze for a moment until she was sure the noise hadn’t snapped the dean out of it. “It’s so nice when we’re on a first-name basis, even if it’s only when we’re alone and you’re hypnotized.”

“Yes, Miss Candace.”

“Now Chet,” Candace went on, “I need you to turn on the out-of-office message on your phone. I don’t want anyone interrupting us. Will you do this for me? Of course you will.”

‘Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford pushed several buttons on his desk phone and a little red light went on.

The cheer-squad spellbinder looked over at the spellbound man sitting straight up in his big leather chair. He was obviously in his own little world right now, aware of only her tits and her voice. What should I make him do now? she asked herself. Cluck like a chicken? No, that’s just silly! She thought a moment, then brightened. I know!

“Chet,” she asked, “how much money do you have in the bank?”

“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars, Miss Candace,” came the answer.

Shit, Candace swore silently. How come he has that much in the bank? She grinned. “How much of it is in cash?” She’d just had a great idea, but it’d be a lot easier to pull off if he had a lot in his checking account instead of tied up in stuff he’d have to fill out a bunch of paperwork to get at.

“One hundred thousand dollars, Miss Candace,” Waterford responded.

“That’s just wonderful, Chet,” Candace cooed. “Now Chet, listen carefully. There’s something very important I need you to do for me.” She drew a deep breath and continued. “I need you to write a check, Chet. I need you to write a check for me, Chet. Do you have your checkbook with you?”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford nodded. Candace noticed that his pupils were still growing and shrinking, growing and shrinking. She had no idea what he was seeing, but she didn’t care, as long as he kept on doing everything she told him to.

“Then what I need you to do is take out your checkbook, write a check for one thousand dollars and hand it to me.” After a second or two she added, “Make the check out to cash, Chet, make it out to cash.” It might cause a problem if it were made out to her personally, especially if she had to deal with a teller, who might wonder who’d give a girl like her a check like that. Fortunately, there was a way around that—she could deposit it remotely and not have to face a live person at all or even use a cash machine. Nobody would have to know anything about it. “Don’t worry about the money. After all, you’ve got lots of it.”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a packet of checks and a transaction register. He put both on the table, wrote out the top check as he’d been commanded to, tore it off and handed it to Candace. He opened the transaction booklet and recorded the check exactly as Candace had commanded. Finally he tucked the check packet and register back into the pocket they’d come from.

“Thank you, Chet.” Candace smiled at him. “That’s so generous of you. So kind.”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford smiled back at her. His pupils were still going in and out, in and out, she saw. The lights are on, but nobody’s home right now, Candace gloated. She picked up the check and slipped it into her cleavage.

What do I do next? wondered Candace. The check now nestled between her breasts was proof that she could make Dean Waterford do just about anything right now.

She looked him over. He’s actually pretty good-looking, she observed. The dean was in his mid-forties, with a trim physique under the suit and tie her wore. His hair was ju-u-ust starting to go gray, but he had a full head of it. and he had a handsome face, too, even though the mindless stare he was wearing just now kind of spoiled it. Except it doesn’t, she told herself. In fact, she realized, it kind of turned her on. She was breathing rapidly now, and she felt hot. A good-looking guy who was supposed to be able to tell her what to do was totally under her power and ready to do anything she said instead. She had to take advantage of the opportunity! She just had to!

She bent across the desk and cupped the deeply-hypnotized dean’s chin with her left hand. “Chet,” she said, “you’re really turned on by my boobs, aren’t you. You want to have sex with me. You want that more than anything. You’d do anything right now to have sex with me.”

“Yes, Miss Candace,” Chet moaned.

“Well, Chet baby,” Candace purred, “now’s your chance.” She slid her sweater off over her head and tossed it aside. “Come out from behind your desk, unbutton my blouse all the way down so it comes open and put your hands on my bare boobs.” She wasn’t wearing a bra; her breasts stayed up without them, and beside, it was hard to find bras in her size in a regular store. She had some fancy ones, covered with glitter, made for strippers with really big tits like hers, but she’d never had the nerve to wear one to school. They were for weekends, for dates and stuff where she could show off. Of course, her parents didn’t know anything about those bras. Her parents wouldn’t like her wearing stuff like that. Or, she corrected herself, maybe her daddy would, but she wasn’t interested in hooking up with him.

While she’d been thinking, Dean Waterford had obeyed her suggestions. He’d come around in front of his desk and was now busy popping open the buttons of her blouse. Her breathing sped up. Something occurred to her: she’d been taking a lot of chances with her suggestions. You weren’t supposed to be able to make soma hypnotized person do one do things they absolutely, positively wouldn’t do when they weren’t hypnotized, but she’d been able to get the dean to fork over a thousand-dollar check and now open her blouse and feel up her tits. What if those suggestions had been too much and he’d snapped out of it?

But they hadn’t been. He hadn’t even blinked when she’d asked for the check, and what he’d said when she’d suggested that he wanted to fuck her—and the way he’d said it, too—it looked like she could have talked him into sex even if she hadn’t hypnotized him. It just probably would have been harder.

But it was getting harder to think, with his hands roaming over her boobs. She moaned, “Stop now, Chet. Put your hands sown for a minute and wait for me to tell you what to do next.”

Chet obeyed. He let his hands drop to his sides and waited.

Candace slid her purse off her shoulder and laid it down on the desktop in front of her. She shrugged out of her blouse, kicked out of her shoes and bent to slide her skirt down her legs. When it lay pooled around her ankles she kicked it away as she’d done with her shoes. She scooched her butt up onto the desk and worked her way out of her stockings, using one hand to prop herself while she worked one off, then switching to the other hand when she started on the other one. Finally she slid out of her panties. Totally nude now, she slid off the desk and faced Waterford, who had stood staring mindlessly while she’d stripped down. She smirked when she noticed that his pants were bulging with a massive erection. Chet-baby’s head may be off somewhere in la-la land, she gloated, but his dick knows what’s going on.

“Now you, Chet,” she instructed. “Take your clothes off, Chet, like I did. Take ’em off, take ’em all off!” She wished she had time to find some strip music on her phone and see if she could make Waterford strip like one of those male dancers, what were they called, oh yeah, the Chippendales—but she didn’t.

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Without another word, Waterford stripped down, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. Candace stepped forward, reached out and wound her arms around his neck. By sheer reflex, his arms came up then, fastened behind her back and pulled, drawing her to him. The two of them sank to the carpeted floor and moved together, locking lips and pumping against each other. At last Candace shivered, clenched her legs around the mindless man pressed against her and shrieked in pleasure. Moments later, Waterford gritted his teeth, moaned and gave one final thrust into the girl who was doing his thinking for him—who at the moment was doing no thinking at all.

Several languorous minutes later Candace came back to herself. Disentangling herself from the limp body of Dean Waterford, she stood up and put her clothes back on as the still-hypnotized Waterford lay quietly on the carpet, eyes closed and a smile on his lips. As she was buttoning her blouse, she noticed that the check he’d given her had fallen to the floor. Big surprise, she thought, smirking, as she bent down to pick it up. This time she put it into her purse, which she then hung over her shoulder again. Looking down at him, she said, “It’s time to get up now, Chet. I know you’re real relaxed now and want to go to sleep, but you need to open your eyes, get up and put your clothes back on.”

“Yes, Miss Candace,” Waterford mumbled. He obeyed her instructions and in a few minutes was standing before her, fully clothed, waiting for further instructions.

“Now Chet,” the cheerleader-hypnotist went on, “go sit down at your desk with your hands clasped on the desktop.” Once again Waterford gave his programmed response, and once again he did as he’d been told.

Smiling, Candace got ready to tell him to forget all about their little get-together as soon as she left his office. Suddenly her eyes widened as she realized she had forgotten something. The whole point of my coming here was to try to talk Che—the dean into letting me back on the cheer squad. She laughed softly. But I got so excited when I realized I’d actually hypnotized him that I got carried away and forgot! Well, I can fix that.

Draping her arms over Waterford’s shoulders, she looked him in the eyes. Their pupils weren’t pulsing in and out anymore, she noted, but it still looked as though nobody was looking out at her. “Chet baby,” she said, “there’s something else you need to do for me, something I really, really want. And you’ll do it, won’t you, because I want you to and you want to do anything I want, won’t you?”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford nodded, keeping his eyes on hers as his head bobbed up and down. “I’ll do it. I want to do anything you want.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Candace cooed. “Coach kicked me off the cheer squad because my grades were bad. I’ve been studying really, really hard since then”—well, really hard for her, anyway; she deserved some time off for parties and like that, didn’t she?—“and I think I should get to go back on.”

She drew a breath and continued. “So what I want is for you to call Coach and say she should unsuspend me.” She took a breath. “You don’t need to talk to any of my teachers”—who might tell him my grades are still bad, she thought, “just to Coach. And if she says no, just tell her again. And if she still says no, say your mind’s made up and that’s that and just hang up, because your mind is made up. Do you understand what I want, Chet, and will you do it?”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Waterford nodded again.

Candace smirked. She’d gotten what she wanted out of Dean Waterford, and a whole lot more too—hot sex and a thousand bucks! And the guy wouldn’t have a clue.

“Chet baby,” she said, “I’ve really enjoyed this appointment”—well, that was one word for it, anyway—“but you know it’s got to stay our little secret, because we both might get in trouble if anybody found out. So I’m going to help you keep our little secret.

“In a minute I’m going to leave here. And as soon as the door closes behind me, you’re going to wake up and forget everything that happened. You’re going to forget I was even here and never, ever remember it unless I tell you to. You’re going to believe you just fell asleep at your desk. But you’re going to do everything I said, you’re going to make Coach put me back on the cheer squad no matter how hard she tries to say no, even though you won’t remember me telling you to.

“And if I ever come here again, you’ll stare at my boobs again when I show ’em off to you, you’re going to get lost in my boobs again and let me hypnotize you again just like this time.

“Do you understand all this, Chet baby, and will you do what I said?”

“Yes, Miss Candace.” Up and down went Waterford’s chin again.

“That’s great, Chet honey.” Candace turned to go. “’Bye now.” She gave a little back-of-the-hand wave before walking over and reaching for the doorknob.

Dean Chester Waterford blinked and shook his head. He glanced reflexively at the wall clock and swore—he’d lost more than an hour! He must have fallen asleep at his desk, something he’d never done before. I sure hope nobody looked in here and saw, he worried. He glanced down at his phone and saw that he hadn’t gotten any messages. At least I didn’t miss any calls.

But about calls . . . there was one he had to make, to the cheer squad’s coach.

EPILOGUE:

Candace Barton met with the dean a number of times. He doesn’t remember any of those meetings and doesn’t worry about the checks to cash he seems to be writing lately. After all, he has plenty of money.

She has also begun a serious study of hypnosis, putting at least as much effort into it as she does into her schoolwork. After all, she’s decided, Dean Waterford isn’t the only person she needs to influence.

Coach Edith Wilson reluctantly lifted Candace’s suspension. She briefly argued with the dean about it, but gave up when he snapped at her that his decision was final. She knew when to cut her losses. She continues to keep a watchful eye on Candace.

Dean Chester Waterford endured several more episodes of falling asleep at his desk. Finally he went to his doctor, who found nothing wrong. The sleeping episodes continued. Eventually he stopped worrying about it; it didn’t seem to be causing any problems, after all.