The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan had a talent. A natural talent. But she didn’t know it yet.

She was 16, and felt awkward all the time. Not like her older sister, Carrie, who was popular and pretty. Susan was the “smart one,” the “good one,” the “quiet one.” The lonely one.

She envied the ease with which Carrie had navigated the high school social scene. Susan wasn’t willing to let boys tease her, just to be accepted.

“But they’re just doing that because they like you,” her mother would say.

“Knock my books out of my arms? Call me ^Ìfour-eyes’? And ^Ìloser’? I’m supposed to like this?” And she would retreat to her room, shutting the door in her heart at the same time.

She was smart. Brilliant, really, if you believe the tests. And every taunt drove her deeper into her studies. Not that so many people teased her, but she took each and every remark to heart. That ^Ìloser’ comment was from four years ago.

One time, one of the boys who were always hanging around Carrie caught her spying on them in the back yard. Flustered, he told Carrie to tell her “bug-eyed sister” to fuck off.

That one unthinking comment changed Susan’s face. She began to almost squint in public, to conceal her naturally large eyes. The glasses helped, especially when she got her mom to get her the kind that darken in the light.

So no one knew that Susan had a natural talent, buried deep within her eyes.

It’s one of those happy accidents, when the genetic make-up of your parents combine to create beauty. Susan was pretty, and blossoming into full-fledged beautiful. But no one knew it yet, least of all Susan.

Her face was perfectly symmetrical, but she covered it with long hair. Her smile was disarming, but she rarely did that. She had a cool, alluring voice, but she only spoke when spoken to. And hidden behind those smoky eyeglasses were the most hypnotic eyes you could imagine.

They were an impossible blue, big and bedazzling, with a rich texture of lighter blues sparkling away like gemstones in her irises. And with her dark eyebrows arching down, it gave her the appearance of training twin blue lasers on you when she looked your way.

And tucked away inside her mind was a gift for persuasion. It seemed to appear at puberty, and sat there unsummoned for the longest time.

Susan didn’t know she had the gift, just the beginnings of a notion that she had started to get her way lately. She asked her English teacher if PLEASE could she have another day to turn in her essay, and wonder of wonders, the old jerk said yes. She needed a pen in class, and almost before she could ask, somebody lent her one.

And right now, what she wanted most in the world was to be noticed by Dennis Martin. He played football, but he wasn’t rowdy like most of the other players. He was nice, and maybe, he was the kind of guy who’d like her. It was almost a make-or-break moment, because rejections hurt Susan so much that being turned down would have been devastating.

So here she was, standing outside the cafeteria, working up the courage to ask Dennis to a party. As he stood up and headed for the door, she frantically rehearsed what she was going to say: “Hi... you might not know me... we’re in American History together... and I just thought maybe... if you’re free Friday night...”

Dennis almost walked right by her without a glance. But abruptly, he stopped. And turned to look at her. Confused. “You...,” was all he could manage for the first five seconds.

“I’m Susan Thompson,” she began, and then nothing. She couldn’t think what to say next. Her mind had deserted her when she needed it most. She could feel her cheeks flush, and was about to turn and run...

...when Dennis said, “Friday night?”

Things were great at first. But Susan was still unaware of her abilities. Any time Dennis suddenly agreed with her wishes, she chalked it up to destiny bringing them together. My luck has finally changed, she thought.

He pushed her into sex, but it wasn’t anything she didn’t already want to do. There were annoyances, like taking the pill because he didn’t like condoms, and him always having to be on top, but it was worth it, she decided.

Finally, something happened that changed everything.

One Friday night, Susan got mad. He hadn’t showered after baseball practice again, and topped it off by having the remains of three or four beers on his breath. But here they were again, in his car, parked on the hill. He kept groping at her, saying, “C’mon, baby, let’s do it.”

She pushed him away and turned toward the fogged-up window. The resentment built up inside her. All his lack of consideration for her welled up, and she felt tears stinging her eyes. She took off her glasses, and wiped them dry.

She turned back and looked at him, and said with a quavering, “Dennis, this has got to stop!”

For a moment, he began his drunken attempt at a charming smile. And then he looked directly into her eyes. And his face went slack.

The silence stretched on.

“Dennis,” she demanded, “are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Susan,” he said weakly, in a voice that sounded distant.

Something was wrong with Dennis, but Susan hadn’t figured it out yet. “Put your pants back on. I’m not in the mood.”

“Yes, Susan.”

Again that voice. And he was having a hard time getting his pants back on, since he kept looking straight into her eyes. I don’t think he’s ever seen me without my glasses, she thought.

Suddenly, she felt the abyss open up at her feet: he’s hypnotized.

“Who’s the first girl you had sex with?” she asked breathlessly, afraid of the answer.

“Becky Smith.”

That liar! He said I was his first! What else has he been lying to me about? “Have you been having sex with anyone else but me?”

“Yes, Susan.”

“Who?”

“Carla Pickering, Becky Smith. Becky before I came over here.”

Her brain was on spin cycle. She had hypnotized him somehow, and he was completely under her power. But he was a lying bastard who was cheating on her! With that slut Becky. She wears so much black eye make-up, she looks like a raccoon. I could punch him about fifty times, and tell him he fell down in a drunken stupor. He wouldn’t know.

She thought about that one.

Discarding it, she roughly grabbed his face with her hands, and opened her eyes wide. His mouth drooped as his mind emptied, awaiting her command.

“Listen to me. When you go into the locker room to shower after baseball practice, when you take off your clothes, you’ll get hard. Every time. It won’t stop until you leave the locker room. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Susan.”

“You will forget that we had this conversation. All you’ll remember is that I told you I’m not in the mood, and to take me home. When I count to three, you’ll wake up and drive me home.” She thought quickly, am I leaving anything out? No. Screw him. “One, two, three.”

He looked dazed for a moment, and then finished pulling on his pants. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I’ll take you home.”

Susan broke it off with Dennis that night. He quit the baseball team a week later. He didn’t give the coach a reason. He also stopped showering after the practices.

She saw him in the halls a week after that. He was making out with Becky in the middle of the hall. Susan was the only one who knew why he was doing that in public.

But she hardly cared anymore, because she was getting herself ready to start dating again. She waited until she had a chance to corner John Davis, after Study Hall. As she approached him, she slipped off her glasses. “John?”

“Yeah?” He turned. He looked. He looked deeper. “Susan?”

She smiled. A beautiful, magnetic smile. “Meet me after school at the Pizzeria. OK?” Her eyes were glowing with power.

“Sure,” he said hesitantly. And as she walked away, a small part of him realized that she hadn’t really asked him. Man, he thought, shaking the cobwebs out of his head, I never knew she had such incredible eyes!

What Susan had no way of knowing was: John’s father worked for the government. The events she set in motion when she cast her hypnotic spell over John would lead to her fleeing the country.

And Susan thought the senior prom was going to be special for entirely different reasons.