The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Flossie! Over here!

Giles! Hi. How nice. Sorry, have I kept you waiting?

It doesn’t matter. Just a few minutes. I have a coffee, can I get you one? Or something else? Please, sit.

That’s very kind of you. Latte, please.

Waiter! A latte, please. So, how are you enjoying Cambridge? Settling in? You’re in Magdalene, have they given you a decent room?

Not bad. A bit titchy. It’s in the modern hall, but there’s a good view over the river. I share with a Japanese girl. She’s very nice. She’s a bit titchy too, doesn’t take up much space.

Really? You must introduce me. I quite admire petite Japanese girls...

Giles! Honestly. You haven’t changed.

... especially if they haven’t discarded their schoolgirl uniforms. But how can you say I haven’t changed, dear Flossie? You really didn’t know me very well at Harrow. I was two years ahead of you. I may have changed immeasurably.

Your reputation preceded you, Giles. And lingered long after you left. By the way, I’ve decided not to go by ‘Flossie’ now that I’m at Cambridge. It’s a good opportunity to change names. I’m ‘Florence’ now.

You had a reputation too. Or, rather, visibility. You were that skinny little redheaded 15-year-old who was always rushing around, arguing with the authorities, winning prizes, editing everything, captaining hockey...

At least I’m no longer skinny.

There have been some changes. Much for the better. You did all right academically, I imagine. You’re at Cambridge.

I was valedictorian.

Of the girls’ side? Or both?

Both. Harrow is completely coed now, Giles. As you know.

It was a great mistake. Still. Of course you’ve noticed that half the students here were valedictorians. You’re a little frog in a big pond. What are you reading?

History.

History at Magdalene. Good choice. Try to take a class with Henry Brandreth. He’s a fine scholar and a very amusing lecturer.

I’ve met him. He interviewed me.

And he snapped you up, eh? Still, a Harrow valedictorian, how could he not? I was only a middling student at Harrow. Bright, I flatter myself, but lazy.

How did you get in, Giles? To Cambridge. I was wondering. On your own merits? Or your family’s?

A rude question. My family’s merit is my merit. And at the interviews I made quite a hit with the admissions tutors. But we were talking about you. You carried on making a name for yourself at the school? And annoying the faculty?

I edited The Harrovian. And yes, there were some scrapes with the powers that be.

E.g.?

Oh, nothing huge. Just little frictions.

With you in charge of the school newspaper? Come, Flossie, there was a huge opportunity for stirring the pot. I can’t believe you didn’t give it a few twirls.

Florence, not Flossie. Ah. Well. There was a little fracas. Some censorship from on high.

Don’t keep me in suspense.

Oh, this is old news now. I wrote a long piece for The Harrovian that... well... that asserted that psionics really exist, and I compared the persecution of accused psionics with the Spanish Inquisition.

Ah. Psionics. Indeed. How interesting. And?

And I speculated on the existence of a cell of psionics at Harrow.

That must have gone down well.

It didn’t go down at all! They suppressed the article! I was summoned to the Head’s study, where I was interviewed by two men in suits.

Mm. Black suits?

No. Maybe. Why, does it matter?

Joke. Old film reference. And what, precisely did you tell these men from who-knows-where?

I think they were the Psi Police. Giles, you must know what that means.

I’ve heard the term. Probably apocryphal. I repeat, what did you tell them?

I’m happy to have your full attention. I told them that I had no evidence of any sort of psionics at Harrow. It was all speculation.

Which was the truth.

Which was the truth. At the time. So I didn’t publish. And that was that. Until later that year, when I had interesting conversations with a couple of girls in my house, that started me thinking. That maybe I was righter than I knew.

May one ask their names? Not that it’s likely I knew them, I didn’t know many girls in your year.

Felice Kiel and Yasmin Pahlavi.

What a coincidence. An interesting chain of events. You get interested in psionics, then you talk to a couple of my old girlfriends—using the term loosely—and now within a week of coming up to Cambridge you decide to look up an old Harrovian whom you haven’t seen in almost three years and didn’t know well even then. Whatever next?

I didn’t really intend to broach this subject so soon.

What did you intend? To discuss the weather? Come, get to the point. What did Yasmin and Felice tell you?

They both had rather similar stories. That they had slept with you against their better judgment. They both felt that what they did was out of character. Felice had been a virgin, and quite religious, and Yasmin only dates Muslim boys. Except you.

I fail to smell a smoking gun here. They were both 16. A couple of girls of legal age were seduced, and enjoyed the experience, one hopes. As Ophelia says,

Young men will do it

If they come to it,

By Cock they are to blame.

What of it? Were they scarred by the experience? Did I spoil them for other lovers?

No, they’re fine. They’ve both had other boyfriends since. They didn’t think there was anything... suspicious involved. But I did. So I tracked down a few other girls who knew you. Deborah Rothstein. Ginny Chang. Tamiko Yamamoto. All with remarkably similar stories to tell. About submission. And obedience. And yet not one of them found their relationship with you odd. And all of them had kept the relationship pretty much a secret for two years. Now why do you think that was, Giles?

Natural discretion, I suppose. But I imagine you have a different theory, don’t you, Flossie.

Florence. Yes, I do. I think you’re a psionic, Giles. You have some kind of ability that you use to control people. It explains the girls, and I think you used it to help you get into Cambridge too.

Fascinating. What a fantasy. And do you imagine that you are a psionic as well?

No. I think I would know.

Well let’s try a little test to see. If you are psionic, and I am too, then we should be able to communicate by telepathy. Bespeaking, I think it’s called. So, I’m about to send you a thought... There. Did you hear anything?

No. Not a whisper.

Then I guess that proves that at least one of us is a muggle.

Muggle?

A non-psionic. From turn-of the century literature. Don’t they teach Rowling anymore at Harrow? They’ll be dropping Crumb off the curriculum next. But I digress. You don’t have any proof of anything, do you, Flossie. I don’t know what you expected to happen; that I would confess to being a psionic and ask you turn me in to the Psi Police, saying ‘Fair cop, Guv, I been rumbled by this genius girl investigative reporter’?

Well... No. Not likely, I suppose. But I wouldn’t turn you in.

No, of course you wouldn’t. Because I’m too interesting to you. You wouldn’t get rid of your very own genuine psionic.

I don’t know what you mean.

Don’t you? I’m sure you’ve done your homework on Psionica. Have you read Ariel Tovyom’s research on the psychology of the popular fascination with psionics?

Um... yes.

Then you know what he says about people who obsess about psionic mind-controllers. He thinks they are like flying saucer contactees, or people who love vampire fiction. The obsession is with a powerful, dangerous kind of alternative authority figure. It’s the same motivation that leads crowds to follow a charasmatic tyrant or guru. Someone who promises to take you out of yourself, to give you release and bliss, in exchange for your will.

Nothing to do with me, Giles.

And yet here you are at Cambridge, looking me up, even though you must realise that if I am really a psionic, you are putting yourself in great danger. I could take over your mind.

I... Maybe I don’t think you could. I’m, uh, very strong-willed. And we are in a public place.

But your ‘strong-willed’ pretence is just a cover, isn’t it, Flossie. You know, or suspect, that inside you there’s a secret submissive, who longs to be told what to do. You want someone to take away all this responsibility, to make all the difficult decisions for you.

Giles...

Hush. Like what to call yourself. Have you noticed that you’ve stopped objecting when I call you Flossie? But there’s more to it. There’s sex. I think that’s what’s going on with you. The desire to submit can be fiercely erotic, don’t you think, Flossie?

Well... maybe for some people...

And maybe for you. I’m sure you found a way to ask my old girlfriends, discreetly, how they enjoyed our sexual relations. Did they say that it was incredibly thrilling, exciting, and that my demand for submission just intensified their pleasure?

Well, not in those exact words, but...

And you believed them. And you wanted, you want, to experience the same. And you’ve fantasised about it too, about the ecstasy of having a lover you are perfectly attuned to, who controls your every sensation. Haven’t you? Tell me.

Well… maybe I’ve thought about it… once…

Of course you have. You believe that the greatest pleasure you can achieve will be when you are controlled by a psionic, in bed with him. You are, to coin a neologism, psi-curious. And now you’ve sought out a psionic male. What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?

Uh... I... I should go...

You will stay. I want you to try a mental exercise, so you’ll understand what we are talking about. Indulge me. Keep looking into my eyes. I want you to imagine something. Imagine what it must have felt like for one of the girls when they submitted to me. Which one of those girls did you empathise with most?

Um, Ginny.

Fine. You are Ginny Chang. You are talking with me, in my rooms in Harrow. You can feel a sweet pleasure whenever I speak, and whenever you agree with me. I mention the word ‘obey’ and you feel a little frisson of excitement. I say how girls should always obey their boyfriends, and you can’t help but agree, with pleasure. It seems such a natural and obvious truth, doesn’t it, Ginny?

Uh, yes.

I tell you to relax, and you do. You find it hard to concentrate on anything but my voice and eyes, but that’s ok. You feel yourself slipping into a trance, a light and gentle trance, and it feels wonderful. You know you are going under, and that’s fine, because you trust me, don’t you, Ginny?

Yes, Giles.

You trust me, and your trance is getting deeper, and that feels so pleasant. You know that this is the best thing you could possibly be doing. You feel very quiet and happy inside. You can’t make any decisions, which pleases you, because you want me to make all the decisions for you. You want to lean on me, to depend on my volition, because your own volition has gone to sleep, hasn’t it?

Yes, Giles.

You think it would be lovely to have me take control. And then you realise that it is already happening. You know that I am taking control of your mind. you are happily and willingly giving your will over to me. It’s the best thing you can possibly do. I tell you that with every breath you will get more and more obedient and you happily agree, don’t you, Flossie?

Yes, Giles.

This is what you really truly desire, to submit yourself to me, isn’t it?

Yes, Giles.

You know that I really am a psionic, and I am taking control of you using my mental powers, and that’s good, isn’t it. Because you don’t have a choice. And you don’t want to have a choice. This is really happening to you whether you like it or not. But you do like it. You want to go deeper. Isn’t that so?

Yes, Giles.

Actually it doesn’t matter if you want to go deeper or not. I am taking you deeper. You can feel your volition eroding away. You deepest desire is to obey and please me. You want me to tell you how to please me. You can feel my mind settling over yours like a warm blanket. There. We can be comfortable together. It feels wonderful, doesn’t it?

Yes, M... M...

What’s that? What are you trying to say?

Felice said you made her call you Master.

And you have fantasised doing the same. You will call me Master, too. But not here. That’s for bed. In public you will call me Giles. But when you say ‘Giles’, you will think ‘Master’. And every time you do that, you will feel a pleasant tingle between your legs.

Yes... Giles. Oh.

Say it again.

Yes, Giles. Mm. Yes, Giles. Ah.

And now we will go to my rooms. Pay the bill, Flossie, and leave a generous tip.

But, but, there’s one thing.

Well?

I know this is what I really want. But… um… did I really want it before? Or have you made me… made me believe that I always did?

You can’t tell the difference between the two. You believe that there is no difference. You will not think about that question any more.

Yes, Giles. Ohh.

You thought you were strong-willed. Ha! You were in denial. How pathetic. And it was stupid of you to assume I couldn’t take you in public. Of course I can, at least sufficiently to put you in a trance and take you to my rooms. When we get there, I need to condition you so that you won’t go about, afterwards, telling the Psi Police that I’m a dangerous psionic despoiler of virgins. Are you a virgin, Flossie?

No, Giles. Ah.

Good. That makes it easier. You’ll enjoy being conditioned, in fact I expect you to cooperate with enthusiasm. Physical pleasure bypasses the will. Apparently it wore off after a couple of years with Ellen and the others; they shouldn’t have been able to talk to you about me. So I’ll have to be especially thorough with you, which will be a pleasure. You’ve really become a very fit young woman. You like my plan, don’t you, dear?

Yes, Giles. Mm.

Let’s see. I need to take you a bit deeper. I don’t want anything to distract you on your walk to King’s. We’ll have to walk separately: if we run into Helen she’ll immediately spot what condition you’re in. We’ll use a mantra to deepen you. Repeat after me: The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper.

The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I... I... um...

I should just submit and go deeper. Say it again.

The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just... um... I should just...

Submit and go deeper. Keep saying it.

...and go deeper. I can’t… um, concentrate. Please say it with me.

(together) The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper.

Keep saying it, Giles.

The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and... and... oh. Merde. You’re... You’re...

Snap.

You’re a psionic. A Controller. Like me. That’s... um... nice.

Yes, it’s nice. My mind is enclosing yours, and that makes you feel very warm and safe. It’s too late to put your shields up, even if you wanted to. And you don’t want to. You want to let me in. You can feel my will merging with yours. There. Done. It’s very comfortable, now that we’re synchronised, isn’t it?

Very comfortable indeed.

Say your mantra again. There’s a little lingering resistance I want to erase.

The Power is so strong, and I’m so weak and sleepy, I should just submit and go deeper. The Power...

Good. You can stop now. I have whole-phase control of your mind. You let your guard down, Giles, when you thought I had submitted. That was foolish of you. But it doesn’t bother you now, does it.

Not at all.

I had to make sure you really were a psionic, before I ambushed you. I imagine you think that was very clever of me, don’t you?

Very clever indeed.

You know that you couldn’t have been taken by anyone less powerful than yourself. You are proud to have been taken by such a powerful psionic as me. Right?

Of course. You’re very strong, Flos... Florence. Your disguise was perfect. Um... I apologise if I was rude to you.

That’s quite alright, Giles. Forget it. And you’re going to forget some other things as well, by the time I’m done with you. You were wrong, you know, to think that your conditioning of Ginny and the others eventually faded. When I met them they were still thoroughly voodooed. All ‘No Comment about Giles’. I had to deprogram them. It wasn’t easy. But they’re all better now. I don’t think I can let you go on doing that to unwary muggles. Casanova is going to become a castrato.

What?

Stay calm, Giles, very calm. I won’t damage your working parts. I’ll just condition you to stay away from muggle girls. And boys, if your fancy runs that way. You really shouldn’t exploit defenceless women. My service to the Sisterhood. You’ll stick to psionic women. They can take care of themselves. A fair fight, anyway. Say you agree.

I agree.

Good. That makes it voluntary. Luckily for me you’re quite dishy. And I’ve done without all summer. We’re both going to enjoy this. Let’s go to your rooms. Now. Pay the bill. And leave an enormous tip.