The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

He was alone in the dark.

It was not the kind of darkness you see when you close your eyes, when you close the curtains in a bedroom. It was not the darkness of being outside at night when there are stars or a moon and you still can see. This darkness was absolute, darker than the ocean in a moonless night. This darkness felt big, like he was so far away from everything that no light could ever reach him.

It was the kind of darkness where things hide waiting for you.

He was walking. Maybe. How can you know you’re moving if you’re alone in a darkness so complete you can’t even see your own body? Did he even have a body? Or eyes? Or was he just a mind drifting in the dark?

There was something in front of him. He couldn’t see it but he could feel it. It was getting closer... or maybe he was the getting one closer. All he could tel was that at some moment that something was right in front of him.

He couldn’t tell if he was seeing it or just feeling it, or both.

He knew its shape and texture: It was a man.

A naked man, tied to a chair.

He was naked too. Had he always been naked? Was there any way to know? Did it matter?

No.

What mattered was that there was a man in front of him, naked and tied to a chair. His skin felt smooth and warm, and the muscles under it were firm and well defined. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt.

Between his legs there was a cock that throbbed with an urge for release that seemed to speak directly to his mind. That cock needed to cum, but the man couldn’t do it because he was tied to the chair, so there was only one answer.

He knelt and put his hands on the man’s thighs, leaned forward and got that cock inside his mouth. He didn’t think or doubt, he just did it. It felt natural to suck that cock, it felt like the lust of that man was calling a need inside him that he could not resist. The man was calling and he had to respond.

He could feel the entire body of that man, every single small movement, every reaction, everything he felt, and he knew that he was feeling good, that his mouth was giving him the pleasure he needed. He gently tongued the head, finding the most sensitive spots and teasing them, and then went as deep as he could until he felt the cock almost past his throat. It felt like his body was no longer his own, like all it could do was feel what the man was feeling and act upon it, giving in to the desire and the need of that man.

Finally the man tensed on the chair with his whole body like a guitar string, and the release they were both expecting came, and he shook and shivered while that cock shoot load after load of cum in his mouth.

It felt like nothing.

It tasted like nothing.

He realized that he had no idea how cum that was supposed to feel and taste... and he woke up.

Daniel raised in his bed choking a gasp.

His cock was rock hard and before he could do anything or try to stop he shot his own load on his stomach, and all he could do was bite his own hand to avoid making noise and then lay down and shiver until the climax passed.

The house was dark and silent, but it was a much smaller darkness than the one he had dreamed of. There were no men on chairs waiting for him, only two other people sleeping soundly in their bedrooms. Mr. Reginald and Josh. His teacher, and his mate in training and brother in arms.

He scurried to the bathroom and cleaned himself up and flushed the toilet paper feeling ashamed of himself.

What was happening?

These dreams were haunting him since had faced the Tempter and failed two months ago and they were only getting worse. There was a dark place deep inside his mind, and the memory of the man in the chair was waiting there for him the second he closed his eyes.

When he had mentioned his dreams to Mr. Reginald he had only been told that they would eventually go away, he just had to wait them out. Patience, young man. Then two weeks ago an old man came and ran several tests on him and left without a word about what was happening and why, and he didn’t dare mentioning again the dreams and how they were worsening. It made him fell weak. It made him feel dirty, like he was carrying a corruption he couldn’t get rid of.

Mr. Reginald had insisted that he needed to rest it out. He was a harsh teacher while he was training him to become a Hunter, but he was also humane. He could show compassion when he knew his apprentices needed it and he seemed to know that Daniel was struggling, so he gave him a time out to recover.

His bed was no longer a safe place to be, he was too afraid for what would happen if he fell asleep again, so he just laid down with his eyes open until the sun came out and it was time to raise and go to school.

His training as a Hunter was so secret that he still had to pretend to be living a normal life. Mr. Reginald had been very clear about it: they had to blend, pass as the rest of the population because that was where their targets hid, and because they had to stay close to the rest of humanity to remember what they were protecting. And for Josh and him that meant school, even if they were first and foremost students of Reginald.

This was a bad day. He was just too tired to fight that thing inside him, and the memories of the dream kept creeping on his mind. He suddenly realized it was the end of the second period and he couldn’t even remember sitting at his desk. All he could remember was the feeling of struggling against his own mind and he was just too tired to continue doing that.

In the third period, he snuck out and walked home. He just couldn’t deal with school right now. He would have to tell his teacher what was going on. He needed help.

But Mr. Reginald was not home and he laid down on his bed, wanting to sleep more than anything but at the same time not wanting to sleep. He was afraid of the creature waiting behind his eyelids. He just had to wait a little for his teacher to arrive. And eventually he fell in a shallow slumber, too tired to hold on anymore.

Something startled him awake. Voices, down in the living room.

— Is it safe talking it here? — that voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t recognize it.

— Yeah, don’t worry. — said Mr. Reginald’s voice. — The boys are at school right now. We have time.

— I’ve always found funny that you from all people insist that they get a regular education and jobs. That’s too... progressive for the Reggie I know. —

Then he recognized the voice. Mr. Jones, the man who had ran the tests on him. Were they going to talk about what was happening to him?

He took his shoes off and got to the top of the stairs. Learning how to go unnoticed was one of the first lessons of hunting, thank God.

— Cut the crap. — was saying Mr. Reginald with an impatient tinge on his voice. — I hope you have an answer because something about this entire thing is rotten.

— Yes, I do have answers . — Replied Mr. Jones. — More answers than you probably want to hear. It took me this long because I needed to rule out any doubts. I don’t like what I’m bringing you today.

— Well, good or not we have to face it, don’t we? Go on.

— Alright. I went back to check the records of the boy... his name’s Daniel, right?

— Yes.

— So, I went to check the records of his test with the Tempter to understand what was going on with him. The fact that he failed in only twelve minutes was already suspicious to me. I told you that, remember? We had our brain monitor zeroing on him...

— I’m still not convinced it’s the proper tool for that. We’ve been doing without that kind of thing for centuries and you still haven’t proved it really works.

— This may be the proof I needed. I had it zeroing on him and I went back to measure the change in his mind when he fell under the influence of the Tempter to see if it was particularly deep or intense, and...

— ...and?

— I found no change in his mind during the record.

— Sounds like your monitor is useless. But I already told you that many times, Jones.

— That’s what I thought, but then I checked the records more in detail. The monitor only measured since we put it on him right before he entered the testing room. I got all his records and look at this.

There was a sound of paper being shuffled.

— These are Daniel’s mental waves. For comparison, these are the mental waves of the test of your other student, Josh. Look at them before and after he was influenced, and look at Daniel’s. There is this shape, see?

— Wait. — said Mr. Reginald. — Are you saying that he had already been influenced before he entered the room?

— Yes. Maybe even before he entered the house, judging by how intense the change in shape is already. And also that’s why he was affected so fast. Twelve minutes.

— But he would have to be extremely sensitive for that, right? Almost like a tracker!

A tracker? Daniel had heard of trackers before: people specially sensitive to Tempters, who would be useful to find them and identify them and to get them out of hiding. He had never imagined he could be one of those, though.

He had been told it was one of the most dangerous roles when hunting Tempters, precisely because of their sensitivity. It was just too easy to lose them during a mission if they were allowed to get too close to the target. They would just lock their minds on the Tempters and fall beyond recovery, or be killed as to avoid losing them.

— That’s why when you told me about his response I insisted on taking these other tests. — continued Mr. Jones. — As part of the tests I made on him, I checked his sensitivity, and he’s on level nine.

— Nine? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Jones. Nine!?

— Nine. Almost nine and a half.

— That’s not possible. He was on level two last year!

— Seems like a case of late development. Most of the time sensitivity appears much younger, but there have been other cases like him. Except that we usually notice them.

— And how did you not noticed before putting him in front of a Tempter?

— Don’t blame this on me. You were the one who was impatient to test his resistance and decided to bypass another sensitivity test before doing it. This is on you, not on me.

— Shit... — Mr. Reginald’s voice sounded truly shaken, almost like a sob. After a deep sigh, he seemed to collect himself. — So now what? Any chance to move him to tracker training?

— We could have, if he hadn’t taken the test and been exposed to the Tempter. For what I can see looking at his readings two months ago and the ones I just made, the change in his mind seems to be permanent.

— No...

— Yes. Sorry to tell you this, but we lost him.

Mr. Reginald sighed again, even more deeply.

— So what are our options now? — he asked after a minute of silence.

— No options. You already know that.

Daniel already knew that: Tempters were the pinnacle of corruption, and a man would be better off dead than being captured and influenced by one of those creatures. If during a mission a Hunter was corrupted in a way that couldn’t be reversed it was a responsibility of the rest to kill him, so he wouldn’t be subject to the degradation and corruption of his body and mind, turned into a puppet without a will on the hands of the Tempters. Fortunately the Hunters trained to enhance their resistance so simply being in the presence of a Tempter or hearing it wouldn’t influence them. They could resist anything but touch or fornication... except in the case of trackers.

And it seemed Daniel was a tracker.

— There has to be an option. I can’t bear the thought of...

— He’s just ripe for taking. The second he’s again in the presence of a Tempter his allegiances won’t matter at all, and you know he will. I proposed to the rest of the council to seclude him for life but they rejected it. Too dangerous, they said, and also too cruel. You owe it to him.

— I just can’t imagine doing it.

— If it was a mission you would have to do it in the spot, remember. Here at least you can make it painless.

Daniel couldn’t really blame Jones: he was just laying the bare reality without trying to soften it, and Daniel in a way agreed with him. There wasn’t a way out, no alternatives, no second chances. They had lost him indeed, and the only thing that was left for them was giving him death as an act of mercy.

And in that split second he decided he wanted to live.

“Ripe for taking”, had said Jones. Maybe. He would see to that when the time came, but he was not going to walk to his death without a fight. He barely heard the rest of the conversation (“Here, put it in his drink. It has no taste and it will be quick”), surprised by how liberating it felt to decide to live with himself, no matter what came or how it came, and if the price of living was carrying the Tempter inside his mind he was willing to do it.

Worse than death, maybe, but he still chose it over death.

He waited breathlessly until they left and he heard the door close, and then returned to his bedroom. It felt like being in a burning building and having five minutes to grab and save what he could. A survival bag, they called him when they talked about preparing for disasters: Your life is burning, pack what you can of it in a bag and run.

It was surprisingly easy. After he had decided being alive was worth sacrificing anything else, even all his childhood treasures, those prizes he had felt so proud of, his books, his games, all the things that had built his life, all of them could be easily sacrificed in exchange of being alive. At the end he just took his clothes, his computer, and a few things he could carry and exchange for money.

He put on his survival bag and walked out of his bedroom, and right when he got to the stairs a couple arms grabbed him and immobilized him against the wall.

— What do you think you’re doing? — asked Mr. Reginald. His voice was steel cold and his face was like a statue.

— What... how? —

— After Jones left I got a message that you skipped school and heard the noise in your bedroom. You heard us, didn’t you?

— Yes. — he would have never imagined standing up to his teacher like this, but now he had just found a new strength. — I heard you deciding how to kill me.

He could feel a knife pressing against his stomach. If Reginald decided to use it, he would have no time to react before finding himself dead.

— I’m sorry, Daniel. I should have avoided this, but now...

— Can’t you just let me go?

— No. — There was an infinite sadness behind the stonelike facade of his teacher. — You don’t know it yet, but the second you find a Tempter out there you will completely fall to him, and you know already too much about us and how we hunt them. We don’t want you to be a tool for them. I taught you why this is necessary. Jones gave me a vial of poison for you, he told me it won’t hurt. It’s your best chance now.

— If it was you, would you drink it?

— Yes. — then watching his face, he corrected himself. — I want to believe I would, at least.

Daniel looked at him firmly in the eyes

— I... I can’t. I want to live. I’m sorry.

— Well, so am I.

Reginald had been a hunter for decades and he was much more experienced than Daniel in hand combat, but on the other hand, he was older and slower and not as strong. While his muscles were tensing to stab him, Daniel managed to push him away and made him lose his footing and fall down the stairs.

Daniel stood at the top of the stairs, stunned. Reginald was laying at the bottom and... and he had fallen on the knife.

— I’m sorry, I’m sorry...! — Daniel heard himself say with tears running from his eyes. It was like his eyes were crying all on their own and he couldn’t stop them.

Grunting, Reginald managed to turn face up and raise his head.

— No, I am. — he said and bit his lip in pain.

Daniel took his backpack and went down the stairs and stopped next to him... and then suddenly remembered something. He fumbled on Reginald’s pockets until he found his keys, and then ran up the stairs again to the master bedroom.

There was a safe there, a safe with a gun and money and the fake IDs they would use on their hunting missions, including one for Daniel. With a heavy sigh, he put the money and the ID’s on his backpack, and then looked at the gun.

Yes, that too. He was going to need it. If his own teacher had tried to kill him he couldn’t expect any mercy from the world.

Reginald was still lying at the bottom of the stairs and a red stain on the floor was getting bigger.

— I’m so sorry. — Daniel said again, kneeling next to him.

— You better be. — he said opening his eyes. — There’s no way back now. You better pray Jones and the other leaders don’t find you, or they’re going to make you wish you had taken the poison.

Daniel looked at the wound. It didn’t look good, but maybe he could try to...

— Don’t think about it. — said his dying teacher. — You already made your choice, now stick to it. Run away now or forever wish you did.

And his head fell back again. Daniel could feel the tears running down his face as he stood up.

— Goodbye, sir.

— Goodbye, Daniel.

And then he walked out the door and ran. And ran.

And ran.