The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey Alex, do you want to watch Night Swim?”

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, clearing stray worksheets from the table in front of me.

Joe thumbed through his collection of DVDs. He carried them around in one of those binders, where the discs lived in plastic sleeves. He was such a dork, but hey, I made good money from tutoring him.

“It’s Lexi’s favorite show,” he said as he pulled out a silver disc from the middle of the book.

“Who?” I asked as he fed the disc to the machine. The tray retracted with a whirring sound.

He was too focused on his task to answer. I sighed. We did finish early today, and my ride wouldn’t be here to pick me up for another forty minutes. So, I resigned myself to sitting back and watching one of Joe’s old shows while we waited.

A glowing pool appeared to ominous synthesizers. It sat in center frame, surrounded by darkness. The water’s surface refracted the pool lights, and soft lettering faded in overtop. “NIGHT SWIM.”

“What’s this one about?” I asked. I tossed my bag beside the couch and plopped down.

“You know this one!” He insisted. “It’s your favorite one.”

I wanted to correct him that he had said it was Lexi’s favorite one, whoever she was. And that I was pretty sure he never showed me this before. But something did seem familiar about the music, so I bit my tongue.

The camera cut to some smiling teens in an old-school, 70s styled living room. Two boys, and two girls, sitting cross legged in a circle on orange shag carpet. From the center of the circle, the camera panned right. The blonde, Stacy. The redhead, Dakota. Brady, the all-American boy. George, dark and mysterious.

“Hey guys, let’s go for a night swim!” All-American said.

This was so cheesy. The way the teens pumped their fists and immediately burst into energetic movement almost made me laugh. Talk about over-acting.

Still, I was glad the show didn’t waste any time getting to the point. Something about the cinematography outside by the pool was compelling, in a lo-fi kind of way, and I wanted to see more.

I leaned back into the couch a bit. Might as well get comfortable.

The teens scattered to different rooms in the house. One boy ran to a bedroom, a girl into a bathroom, another girl upstairs, a boy out back. But the camera lingered on the empty living room.

“Is this just about these people going swimming?” I asked.

And what was with this choice to just stay on the empty room? The camera panned across unoccupied furniture in an endless scroll of brown and burgundy.

“Why are they including this part where they get changed?” I asked, feeling antsy. The oppressive warmth of the cinematography started to get to me. Would they hurry up and get in the pool?

“See, you have seen this!” Joe said.

“What—no! I mean, what else would they be doing?” I replied.

But now that I thought about it, this was familiar. Any second now they would all come piling back in their swimsuits.

Stacy in her hot pink bikini with the sheer white cover-up.

Dakota in her black-and-white one piece.

Brady and George in their swim trunks and tees.

And I was right. They all spilled back into the room, laughing and giggling and tripping over themselves.

“Did Stacy and Dakota put makeup on?” I griped. Their faces glinted with freshly applied lipstick, blush, and mascara. How fucking stupid was that? Weren’t they going swimming?

“How do you know their names if you haven’t seen this?” Joe quipped.

“I… they said, didn’t they?” But as the words left me lips, I knew I was mistaken. They never said. I just… knew.

Okay, so maybe I’ve seen this once before. Clearly, it hadn’t made a lasting impression, though.

The teens danced around, and the camera took ample time to present each one in their new outfits. It tilted lovingly down their bodies.

“This is dumb.” I decided.

“Don’t worry, this next part always gets Lexi excited.” Joe said confidently, as if Lexi’s opinion had any bearing on my own.

The characters ran out to the pool. I was glad to leave the stuffy interior behind. And against the backlit moonlight, I had to admit that the characters wore their swimsuits well. They at least looked their age, I conceded. Not thirty-somethings playing young, but actual college freshman with all the litheness and vigor of youth.

They were hot. Probably too hot, for realisms sake.

George pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and squeezed a blob into his hands. He passed it along and turned to Dakota, who had her back ready to him.

George rubbed the lotion into Dakota’s shoulders. Why were they putting on sunscreen? It was night time.

Time to sleep.

Meanwhile, sunscreen in hand, Brady pulled off Stacy’s cover-up.

I remembered that detail. I always thought it was stupid that she wore it for all of ten seconds before letting it fall, forgotten to the floor. The neon pink bikini that was beneath burned brightly into the camera’s lens.

So brightly. Two half-moon cups and a triangle of electric light. It burned into my retinas to the back of my skull, deep into my mind from where a second set of eyes watched. The pink bikini. I should have remembered not to look directly at the pink bikini.

Brady pulled Stacy’s bikini strap back and rubbed sunscreen beneath it. He got awfully handsy, massaging the lotion deeply into her back, and he pulled the strap so far that it nearly snapped.

Dakota’s one-piece suit was made open-sided by two circular windows. George tugged her by her naked waist until her ass backed into his crotch. He caressed her until every inch of exposed flesh glistened.

The synthesizers droned on.

“How long does.. this scene.. go on..?” The words came out sluggishly. Suddenly, I found my body heavy.

Time to sleep. And time to wake up.

The frame was all hands, lotion and skin. Close-ups faded into close-ups, and the music ramped up. This was getting racy. Far racier than the innocent intro would have suggested.

The girls hopped up on the table spread their thighs for the boys’ roaming hands. In slow, circular motions, they rubbed lotion in tantalizing proximity to the nylon’s edge of their crotches.

My heart sank. This was Lexi’s favorite show.

I remembered now. Every week, we would watch this weird show, and while I wasn’t in to it, Lexi fucking loved it. But whoever Lexi was hovered just out of reach from my recollection.

“Can we turn this off?” I said. “I don’t want—I’m not…”

I tried to explain myself. “I’m Alex. I said finally, not quite knowing what that meant. But I did know that even though Lexi loved Night Swim, Alex did not. And it was important to remember that I was Alex.

But the girls were sunscreening the boys now. They faced each other in pairs, Stacy’s and Dakota’s hands reached around their broad shoulders to rub it in their backs. It was wildly ineffective, and they were missing so many spots.

But even though I hated how nonsensical this scene was, I knew Lexi was watching with rapt attention. She loved how the teens touched each other. How they stood so close that they nearly kissed, and how the camera adoringly captured the light bouncing off their bare skin.

I wanted to get up and leave, but Lexi wanted to watch. She kept me firmly in place, and I had no choice but to watch along with her.

“Joe.. can we please stop?” I said weakly.

“But they haven’t even started swimming yet!” He said. “That’s your favorite part, isn’t it?”

“Yeah..” Lexi sighed dreamily out of my lips.

My hand covered my mouth in embarrassment. I remembered this, now, too. When Lexi got excited, she started talking for me. Thinking for me. Being me for me. And she was about to get a lot more excited.

The kids jumped in the pool in a flurry of cannonballs and splashes. The camera caught them from below the water. Their bodies sunk in pillars of bubbles, the light reflecting and shifting and catching their bare arms, their butts, their boobs, their legs.

The show became a jumble of submerged bodies. They floated beneath the water, sinking to the bottom, and Lexi bit her lip in anticipation of what was to come.

Glimpses emerged from the murky depths.

A flash of pink. Stacy’s hips, her bikini bottom held on by two knots on either side. So easily undone…

A broad shadow. Brady’s chest, radiating heat, calling to be touched by dainty fingers.

Two long, white pillars. Dakota’s pale legs, pointing upwards out of shadow.

As the lithe bodies sank, I too felt myself sinking. Going away. Falling back to the place in my mind where Lexi was trapped. From back here, I was no longer in my body. It still sat motionless on the couch, legs spread wide and the eyes fixed on the screen. But I was here, sinking in the pool. To the bottom of my mind.

This must be how she felt all the time. Experimentally, I tried to say something, to do anything. With great effort, I forced the word “Please..” out of my body’s mouth. It emerged as a hoarse whisper that from down here, I barely heard. And exhaustion washed over me.

The bodies sunk beyond where there was any light. I lost sight of them, the tangle of flesh and limbs that were wrapped together, sinking lower, deeper, out of sight.

It was black now. And it was just me and Lexi in the blackness.

She looked exactly like me. Floating there in the void, her hair weightless, trembling with excitement. She eyed me expectantly as I drifted closer, her arms outstretched. How could I forget that she lived deep inside of me? How could I forget that in watching her favorite show, I would wake her?

She loved this porno. And that’s of course, what it was. A porno. I remembered, now. It got her so wet, so horny, so emphatically aroused. But Lexi was a slut like that. An eager, sex-addled part of me that didn’t exist until…

Until Joe started showing me this stupid show.

I couldn’t change course. I drifted into her, and we collided gently as she took me in her arms. She cradled me from behind, our hearts beating in synchronicity.

“Noo…” I said hoarsely.

“Shhh…” Lexi cooed. She stroked my cheek. I was so tired…

I fought to stay awake. If I fell asleep, I knew what would happen. Lexi giggled softly in my ear. Her hot breath fell on my neck. I had to get back to the surface. Back out of the depths of my mind, away from this other part of me. But I was so tired, and Lexi was getting stronger. She embraced me tightly.

I couldn’t let her out. I needed to… hold on…

I sunk back further, and my eyelids fell. As they did, my consciousness sunk deeper still. Backwards, into the body that held me. Into her. And now I saw out of her eyes.

To her, I was boring, stuck-up Alex, who never wanted to have any fun with our sexy body. To her, I was someone who needed the occasional time-out while she let off some steam for us.

From here, in Lexi’s mind, through Lexi’s eyes, I couldn’t disagree with her. Alex was always so wound up. When watching something like Night Swim, she got caught up in the silly minutia of logic and continuity when she should be focusing on the fun, sexy teens.

In my arms, the body I no longer inhabited became slack.

I stroked the poor girl’s cheek. She never flirted. She never dressed sexy. She never masturbated. She just studied, worked, slept. She read boring books, and talked about boring things with boring people. Holding Alex tightly in my arms, I pitied her. What a silly, stupid, depressing girl.

She didn’t know how badly she needed me to take over.

She breathed deep, even breaths. She was finally sleeping. I lay her down in the inky blackness to rest, and returned my gaze upwards, where Night Swim played.

The teens rose from the depths now, faster and faster upwards, and I rose with them. Lifted as if by sudden, forceful buoyancy, I hurdled back to my mind’s surface, where my body was growing warm and needy. But of course, it was! The very best part of Night Swim was about to happen.

They erupted from the pool and took in the cool air, and I jolted upright in Alex’s body, in my body.

Stacy and Dakota’s tits jiggled and heaved and glistened with water droplets. The boys pounced on them in an instant, grabbing them firmly by the waists, kissing them.

I always loved how Stacy and Dakota wrapped their long legs around the boys, and draped their arms around their necks. They kissed back, hungry, horny.

“You like this part, don’t you Lexi?” Joe asked me.

“Fuck yeah..” I said.

“You can play with yourself if you want to,” he said.

I giggled. Of course, I wanted to play with myself! I always played with myself. I existed to play with myself. I pulled myself out of Alex’s jeans and tugged her panties down.

Joe took his pants off too, watching me with a smile. He was hard.

The couples undressed each other. Wet swimsuits peeled from their skin, and my arousal flared as their naked titties, bare asses, hard cocks came into view. They grinded their bodies into each other beneath the water, kissing and groping.

I moaned as wetness enveloped my probing fingers.

“You’re a horny little slut, aren’t Lexi?” Joe said, stroking his cock.

“Uh huuuh!” I moaned. I was such a wet, eager, happy nympho. I was made to be one.

“Now you remember Night Swim, don’t you?”

“It’s my favooriiiite!” I sang. Because it made me. And every week, it made me again. Without it, I was a dim flame in Alex’s head. Almost nothing. A stray thought, nagging at Alex to finish tutoring early, so that Night Swim could play and it would bring me back in full.

The music. The lights. The colors. They told me what I was. They reminded me who I was. Even if Alex was too stupid to understand.

Side by side, Dakota and Stacy kissed each other as the boys did them from behind. Hard bodies rammed in to soft flesh, jiggling asses which writhed rhythmically to the thrusting cocks.

I fucked myself with two curling fingers. They emerged slick with each stroke, while my free hand tugged my bra down. Fuck, Night Swim was so fucking hot, it drove me crazy! My fingers weren’t enough. I needed more.

Joe must have read my mind. Or maybe he noticed me keeping his hard cock squarely in the corner of my vision.

“Wanna suck my cock, Lexi?” Joe said.

“Aahh..” I moaned. Drool fell from my whore lips. “Yeahh…”

“And maybe if you’re good, I’ll fuck your brains out after.”

“Ohmigod, yes!” I squealed. The promise lit a fire in me. As much as I wanted to suck him, fucking him would be even better. I scrambled to his feet, where he let me take the cock from his hand. I licked my lips.

I was the best cocksucker in the whole wide world. Alex never did it, but Night Swim taught me everything I needed to know. Plant loving kisses up the shaft like Stacy. Channel Dakota’s pleading eyes. Wrap my lips around the head. Take it deep. Take it eagerly. Take it like I was made to.

And then, as the teens swapped partners in the pool, ate each other’s pussies and asses, sucked each other off, and fucked each other silly, I would get fucked silly too. I’d moan on Joe’s cock while he told me how good and tight my pussy was.

His praise would drive me crazy. He’d tell me that I did such a good job for coming out to play, and wouldn’t it be hot if I could play more often? Wouldn’t it be great if, from the recesses of Alex’s mind, I could convince her to be more fun? Sluttier?

If I could get her to finish tutoring early, couldn’t I get her to shave her pussy, or wear sexier clothes? Couldn’t I get her to lighten up? Couldn’t I teach her how much fun it was to suck cock, and fuck? Couldn’t I teach her to be me?

“Yes!” I’d moan, fever-pitched and fuck drunk. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

But for that, I’d need to watch Night Swim every week. It would tell me everything I needed to know to, in my resting state, grow from nagging thoughts to undeniable impulses. I just needed to watch.

And so he’d fuck me from behind, my eyes glued to the glowing screen, as Night Swim devolved into a swirl of colors and shapes and sounds, as it dominated my mind and told me who I was, what I was, and how I could be forever.

And I’d cum. I’d cum and cum and cum and cum, until I couldn’t cum anymore, until my mind was so saturated by Night Swim’s instructions that it couldn’t take anymore. And then I’d sink back down to that quiet place, and sleep, satisfied, happy, and warm. Until the next time Night Swim woke me up for more.