The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1

I know Jesse Miller used to be an ordinary kid, and I really don’t know what happened to him. I don’t think anyone knows but Jesse, and he won’t tell.

It was our senior year. He was always very cool, and I wasn’t the kind of kid who knew a lot of cool kids. I knew something was happening, because people were gossiping about him, but I didn’t pay much attention. My life at the time was all about architectural model building, if you want to know. And learning. I liked school – except for the students of course. But I kept my head down, and mostly people ignored me.

But there came a time when even I had to become aware of Jesse’s power.

Let me start from the beginning. Jesse was a lanky kid, but wiry and strong, with sandy brown hair and a quick, freckly face. He had a salesman’s way of kidding. My name’s Robbie, so he called me “Robin” and pretended to be Batman, like, “Robin, you take the Chemistry classroom, I’ll take the Math room, meet you at lunch.”

But then he changed. He got quieter, it seemed, but people were talking about him more. Three or four girls had crushes on him. Two of them, Marsha and Tilena, got in a terrible fight. I heard Marsha got so scratched up she had to have stitches.

Lots of odd things started happening around Jesse. Jerry Martinson, that used to be his best friend, spent a whole day crawling around the school. He wouldn’t get up no matter what they did. I saw him in the lunchroom with a couple of teachers trying to talk to him. Another afternoon, Shelly Leibowitz was kissing every boy Jesse looked at. Mary Markham stood up in English class and apologized to everyone for being a bitch – this was after she’d had some kind of argument with Jesse.

A lot of boys took to following him around, trying to get in with him. Joey Ingram boasted that Jesse “set him up” with Louise Sherman, who was a shy girl that never talked to boys at all, as far as I knew. She sang in the choir. Other boys talked about being “set up” with girls. I didn’t like the sound of that, but I didn’t pay any more attention than I had to. My friend Jeremy kept saying he wanted to be set up with Tilena, that was a black girl he’d always had the hots for. (I kept telling him to shut up.)

Once I happened to be in line near Jesse for lunch. Larry and Bob were standing behind him, and I could tell they wanted him to talk to them, but he was looking at me. Made me nervous. Then he leaned down to me (like I said, he was tall, I’m short), and said, “what girl would you want to be set up with, Robbie?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” I said, moving away.

He scratched his head. “Are you gay or something?” he said. It didn’t sound like he was being mean, so much as trying to figure me out.

“No. I don’t know what you mean by ‘set up,’ but I don’t need to be set up with a girl,” I said. I didn’t want be rude, so I tried to make a joke. “All the girls got the hots for me anyhow. I gotta beat them off with a stick.”

He smiled. “Uh-huh. What if I could get Mary Markham to show you her boobs? What if she’d let you play with them?”

I looked at him suspiciously. “How could you do that?”

“None of your beeswax. But I can do it. Watch.” He clicked his fingers. Louise Sherman was just sitting down to eat near us, and she bent over the table so we could see down her shirt. I could see her white bra and most of her breasts, even a corner of a nipple. Then she straightened up. I looked up at Jesse.

“You made her do that?”

“You saw it. Want me to do it again?”

“No. I think it’s weird. I mean, I don’t know what kind of magic you have or think you have, but you shouldn’t use it to make people do things they don’t want to.”

“Robin, people do things they don’t want to all the time. Do you want to come to school?”

“Sometimes.”

“Right. But you have to go every day. It’s the rules. Hell, most people spend their whole lives doing things they don’t want to do. People get married to other people they don’t love. They get jobs they don’t enjoy and do them for thirty-seven years. Nobody cares. So what difference does it make if I mess around with people’s heads a little? I even make it so they don’t notice it, or don’t remember, or whatever. So who cares?”

My heart was beating fast. I didn’t even want to think about the kind of power he was claiming to have. What if he turned it on me? “Well, I don’t know about all that. I never had any magic. I don’t know about you, but it’s not for me.”

He could be lying. Maybe Louise just happened to bend over right at that moment, I thought. But she wasn’t the type to be careless about her shirt. I’m not gay, like I said, I noticed when the girls let you see anything. I stared. I mean, I tried not to, but it was hard to remember to look away when you got a chance to see down a girl’s shirt.

I avoided Jesse after that. But I made the mistake of telling Jeremy and Todd about what happened, and that’s when Jeremy started hanging around Jesse trying to get his attention, though I don’t think it worked. He said Jesse set up Larry with Mary Markham, even though Mary always hated Larry.

“Does he just have infinite power to control others?” asked Todd, who talked like that. “Is there anything he can’t do?”

“I don’t know,” said Jeremy. “But he definitely can do some stuff normal people can’t. He told Jenny Hathaway to kiss Bob’s crotch, and she just bent down and did it, then walked away like nothing had happened. I saw it.”

“You saw that?” said Todd.

“Uh-huh. So, it’s not just hype. He’s got some kind of power.”

“Where does it come from?” asked Todd.

“He won’t say,” said Jeremy.

“It seems demonic,” I said. “Maybe he sold his soul to the Devil.”

“Cool!” said Jeremy.

“Don’t be a jerk.”

“Well, I don’t have to sell my soul to get a little taste of what Tilena’s got…not if Jesse can set me up.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said. “How’d you like it if you were forced to do something for some boy you didn’t even like?”

“Gross!”

“Well, so why should the girls in school have to? Wouldn’t you be worried if you were a girl in our school?”

“I think he makes them not worry about it.”

My last class that day was calculus with Mr. Markowitz, I remember because he told me I was the only one who got an A on the test (he told me after class, which I appreciated, so the other kids didn’t know).

Jesse was waiting for me outside the classroom, though. His home boys – Larry, Bob, Mark – surrounded me. My heart started to pound. I glanced around. They weren’t going to let me go. Mr. Markowitz was not far away, gathering his stuff after class, but he wasn’t going to come out for a while. I was tempted to shout for help, but what if Jesse got mad at me? What could he do? Better shut up and keep my head down.

“OK, Robin, I’ve thought about this,” he said genially. “I’ve been thinking about you. I want to see what you’re really made of. Are you ready?”

I didn’t say anything. He looked at me carefully. “What girl do you like?” he asked.

“I dunno,” I said. No one cared what girls I liked, least of all the girls.

“Tell me,” he said.

I didn’t want to, but my mouth just opened and told him, “I like Cheryl Gantry the best, but I think Mary Markham’s really cute.” His posse snickered: Cheryl’s just a regular girl, a nice quiet girl who even sometimes talks to me, even though I’m shy around girls and I never try and take them out or anything. She’s not that pretty, really, at least, they wouldn’t think she is. I clapped my hands over my mouth, unable to believe it had talked without my permission, and the hangers-on laughed even harder.

“OK, Cheryl it is,” said Jesse. He looked around. As it happened, she was at the other end of the hall, coming out of American History. “Cheryl,” he called, “come over here.” Cheryl had a round face and a long nose, with mousy brown hair and acne on her cheeks and forehead. She was about my height, with wide hips and big breasts. She was just one of those girls that no one pays attention to, but she didn’t seem to mind. She read a lot, same as me, but I didn’t know too much else about her.

When she stood in front of him, he looked her up and down, then put a hand on my shoulder. “Cheryl, spend until five o’clock with Robbie here. Make sure no one else is around. Do whatever he says. Whatever he says or does, don’t notice anything unusual happening. Just have a good time. OK, got that? Oh, wait. If he tries to get away from you, or to have anyone else around, go crazy and tear your eyes out.” My heart was hammering in my chest. His last words made me catch my breath, and I thought I was going to throw up. Could he really do that?

She just nodded as if it were a normal thing to say. “OK,” she said, and turned to me. “Let’s go.” The other kids were devouring us with their eyes, but they stayed behind as we walked away.

“I heard the band playing in the park last weekend,” said Cheryl conversationally, as we left the school. No one was following us. “They were pretty good. Musicals and stuff. Louise Sherman was singing, she’s really good. Do you like that kind of music?” She seemed completely relaxed.

I wasn’t. I was totally tongue-tied. Cheryl seemed to be under some kind of spell. Did it really mean she’d do whatever I said? What would happen to her? Could I ask her about it? Was there any way out? The questions spun around in my head, and I just stammered, “Um…how are you feeling, Cheryl?”

She wasn’t taken aback. “Fine.”

“Can you…do you understand what’s happening to us?”

“No,” she said lightly. “There’s no point in asking me about it. You’ll just have to figure it out on your own.” She smiled. “Sorry.”

“Do you…” I better not push it. Something terrible could happen. “OK, tell me about the band.”

We walked through the school grounds and chatted. No one was watching. “Let’s go hang out in the Development,” she said. That’s what we called it, though it wasn’t being developed any more. They’d put up a whole apartment building, and there were other ones started, but the construction company had gone bankrupt, and the site had been sitting abandoned for more than a year now. You weren’t supposed to go there, but lots of kids did. We walked past the soccer field and turned towards it.

“What’s your family like, Robbie?” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met them.”

My stomach was full of butterflies, but I tried to answer normally. “Um, my sister Ellie goes to college in Trenton. She’s going to be a nurse.” I didn’t mention that she hates my guts. I’ve never been sure why. “My dad’s a police officer. My mom teaches high school at West. Pretty boring, I guess. You’ve probably seen my little brother Eddie, he’s in seventh grade. How about you?”

“Oh, my dad lives in North Carolina,” she said, “me and my sister live with my mom…” she kept talking, but for the life of me, I couldn’t concentrate on a word she was saying. We were really alone now, walking down the path in the Development. Sometimes you’d see couples come through here to make out, but it was a cloudy spring day, it looked like rain, and no one was around. Cheryl was taking me into the one building that was finished.

“We can get in over here,” she said. “I know you’re not supposed to, but I heard it’s actually perfectly safe.” A window on the ground floor had been smashed, then boarded up, and vandalized again by kids wanting in. She held up the loose plywood, and I climbed through with my heart in my throat. As I went by her, my arm brushed her breast. It was like an electric shock went through me when I touched her.

I could look at them, if I wanted to. I could touch them. She wouldn’t even remember it. I’d seen naked women on the internet, but they’d never looked real. It was only a few times at Jeremy’s house, because my dad had put software on our network so you couldn’t get porn. I’d never seen a naked woman in person, or even a topless one. My dick was almost painfully hard in my pants. It was hard to breathe.

The corridor smelled of damp concrete. Were there rats here? There were bits of things scattered on the floor, old cigarette butts, leaves, I don’t know what. She took me up the stairs and we found a room with an unbroken window. Someone had brought some logs in here to sit on, and there was a circle of rocks on the concrete floor. It smelled of ash. We sat on the logs, which were very near each other, and Cheryl kept chatting.

I was staring at her breast. I couldn’t help it. She didn’t seem to notice, but Jesse had told her not to notice anything unusual. Could I test that? I picked up a piece of charcoal and put it on her knee of her jeans. I rubbed it around, blacking her pants.

“Have you been down to the new ice cream parlour?” she said. “They’ve got peanut butter ice cream.”

It worked. I didn’t want to do anything to her, but I did want to. I did. Would she do what I said?

“Hold your hands up in the air,” I interrupted, and she did it. Her breasts stood out proudly, rising and falling as she kept talking.

“The people said that you couldn’t have a float without root beer,” she continued. “No ginger ale floats. But Allie really wanted a ginger ale float…” She kept her hands up. I didn’t want her to get tired.

“Put them down.”

Bras always looked so uncomfortable. Certainly Cheryl’s did, I could see it plainly through her knit shirt, it looked heavy and thick, and it constricted her flesh. Could I…?

“Take off your bra.” The words tumbled out of me. I told myself that Jesse had done something to me, but I knew he hadn’t. This was just me.

Cheryl reached under her shirt and took it off. It was thick, plain, and white. “Allie got super mad because Charlie wouldn’t stop teasing her,” she was saying, as she unhooked it and fooled around under shirt. Her breasts dropped down in there, then came back up, in a new shape, even more alluring. Gorgeous. “Finally she stamped out of there. About time, too, I thought.”

I wanted desperately to see the breasts without the shirt, but nothing in the world – I thought – could make me take it off her. It was just wrong. What I had already done was wrong. It didn’t feel good at all.

“Sorry,” I said, with a feeling of stepping back from the cliff. “Put it back on.”

But I was utterly unprepared for the fact that putting her bra back on required her to first take off her shirt. There was nothing that I could do, nothing – in the fleeting moments that followed – that I honestly wanted to do. I didn’t look away.

“What kind of music do you like?” she asked, as her stomach was exposed. Her arms went over her head, and the blue shirt with them. My eyes were helplessly glued to her boobs, with their big nipples, a little bumpy in the cool air. I couldn’t speak. For her part, Cheryl wasn’t in a hurry. She casually picked up the bra, put it one arm through it, then the other, lifted her breasts into it one at a time, latched it behind herself. I swallowed.

“Um. Jazz,” I said.

At five, we headed back to school and separated to go home.

“That was nice,” said Cheryl. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”